jsgssg 
 
 "- ' ■ ■ 
 maa a fea 
 
 Si'i f: 
 
 - 
 •: 
 
 
 
 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 DC 280.L29 1895 
 
 Emperor Napoleon III 
 
 3 1924 028 270 886 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028270886 
 
THE SECRET OF AN EMPIRE. 
 
 THE 
 
 EMPEROR NAPOLEON III. 
 
 BY 
 
 PIERRE DE LANO. 
 
 TRANSLATED 
 
 FROM THE FRENCH 
 
 BY HELEN HUNT JOHNSON. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 1895. 
 
Copyright, 1895, 
 By Dodd, Mead & Company. 
 
 TYPOGRAPHY BY C- J. PETERS & SON, 
 BOSTON. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Emperor — His Private Life .... 7 
 
 II. The Emperor considered as a Politician . 45 
 
 III. Prince Napoleon 90 
 
 IV. Tragic Shadows 136 
 
 V. The Emperor and the Salons 168 
 
 VI. M. Eugene Rouher 186 
 
 VII. M. Emile Ollivier 219 
 
 VIII. The Apotheosis 265 
 
 IX. The Drama .289 
 
 X. The Declaration of War 303 
 
 XI. Sedan 337 
 
 XII. The Close of a Reign 357 
 
TO THE READER 
 
 Did I wish to write a preface to this third 
 volume of the anecdotal history of the Second 
 Empire, the numerous incidents which have ac- 
 companied and which have followed the publi- 
 cation of my previous works, would render the 
 task easy. 
 
 Having, however, replied to my opponents 
 in a special chapter upon the Court of Napo- 
 leon III., I will add nothing to what I have 
 there said. In doing so I should but renew 
 a discussion into which I do not care to enter. 
 In arguments of this nature it becomes neces- 
 sary, in order to affect public opinion, as well 
 as to avoid the appearance of retreating before 
 an adversary unjust through his own violence, 
 to make use of the same vocabulary which he 
 has chosen, to return his attacks — for a dis- 
 cussion is like a game of battledore and shuttle- 
 cock — to return his attacks, I say, with the 
 same cold and intense passion, with the same 
 5 
 
6 TO THE READER. 
 
 ill-concealed anger as his own. None can fail 
 to recognise in this a diversion hardly worthy 
 -of a writer; I prefer, therefore, to complete 
 my work without resorting to recrimination. 
 When all is still in the farmhouse, what does 
 one care for the wind which howls round the 
 barns stocked with wheat, and which is power- 
 less to do more than shake the roof ? There 
 should, however, I repeat, be a preface of a 
 peculiar nature which might serve to settle 
 the controversies roused by my statements ; but 
 such a preface would have an interest alto- 
 gether personal, and for this reason I limit to 
 these few lines the introduction to my third 
 volume upon the Second Empire. I have aban- 
 doned every consideration irrelevant to my 
 theme, that I may strive only for the achieve- 
 ment of the task which I have undertaken, 
 and for the faithful representation of a period 
 which has all the charm, all the sustained inter- 
 est, of a long romance ; which has, too, all the 
 terrors, all the convulsions, of an interminable 
 drama. P. de L. 
 
 Paris, February, 1893. 
 
NAPOLEON III. 
 
 THE EMPEROR HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 
 
 In writing my preceding works upon the 
 Second Empire, I have allowed myself to be 
 carried away by the element of strangeness, 
 and also by the anecdotal interest of the mate- 
 rials which have helped me prepare my history ; 
 I have seldom had reason to be deeply moved, 
 to experience that tremor of the senses or that 
 tragic emotion which is fatally roused by an 
 idyllic poem or by a bloody epic. 
 
 In certain chapters, however, relating more 
 particularly to those events which occupied the 
 latter part of the reign of Napoleon III., I have 
 been unable to conceal the enthusiasm which 
 then took possession of me ; it seemed, as I 
 understood better the personality of the Em- 
 peror, that I was in the presence of one of 
 those heroes of romance or of drama before 
 whom all subsequent heroes of romance and 
 7 
 
8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 drama in the literary world are insignificant. 
 This feeling is now strengthened in me as I 
 write these pages specially consecrated to Na- 
 poleon III., and the emotion which had hitherto 
 but touched me lightly has increased and taken 
 possession of my narrative. To whatever politi- 
 cal party my readers may belong, my standpoint 
 must, nevertheless, be understood. It must be 
 admitted that the character of Napoleon III. is 
 more interesting to study, to watch, to puzzle 
 out, than the character of one — however psy- 
 chological that character may be — who simply 
 comes and goes in the world like every other 
 man and woman, be he honest or a knave, art- 
 less or a dupe, a sceptic or a believer. 
 
 It is not without reason that I suggest a 
 resemblance between the Emperor Napoleon III. 
 and the customary hero of the modern novel. 
 The Emperor was indeed a hero of romance, 
 but a hero devoid of fictitious embellishment, 
 whose actual fortunes are developed and strung 
 together with all the interest, with all the 
 rapidity, with all the logic, of a good melo- 
 drama. 
 
 There is no reason to be surprised at the 
 attitude assumed by Napoleon III., or by the 
 peculiar character which he gave to his reign. 
 Though himself unconscious of it, the Emperor 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. g 
 
 was compelled to maintain, during the whole 
 course of his life, the gloomy bearing of an 
 actor in a leading rdle ; and despite his cold- 
 ness, his reserve, and the accuracy of his obser- 
 vation, he was obliged to live his days like so 
 many chapters of a serial story, filling them 
 with incident and with change, and presenting 
 them to the public linked together by a kind of 
 " continued in our next," both enigmatical and 
 passionate. 
 
 In this attitude of the Emperor, and in the 
 peculiar aspect of his reign, there is nothing 
 unnatural. Did not, indeed, this man and this 
 reign spring up in a moment, as if appointed 
 by destiny ? Was not the Prince Louis Napo- 
 leon thrust upon history with the opportuneness 
 of some legendary creation whose course is 
 immutably fixed, whose career irremediably de- 
 termined ? Victor Hugo sang his name in 
 magic verse ; the works of M. Thiers celebrate 
 his uncle's glory ; the burden of Be>anger's 
 songs, which are softly repeated by the people, 
 stirred the golden dust of the imperial bees 
 which perished at Saint Helena, but which 
 were revived, and are now buzzing round that 
 hive, the Invalides. The Prince Louis Napo- 
 leon, urged by a force independent of his free 
 will, moved by a power stronger than his own, 
 
IO NAPOLEON III. 
 
 under the influence, indeed, of that legend which 
 prophesied the dizzy heights of the throne, 
 longed to be emperor ; the demigod of that 
 legend wished to realise in himself the sublime 
 words of Victor Hugo, to perpetuate the glory 
 of his uncle, to present to M. Thiers another 
 episode in history, to fulfil the prophecy of 
 Beranger. He was a man of Fate, the product 
 of a combination of fatal causes ; he was but 
 what Destiny forced him to be ; he could not 
 have been other than he was. 
 
 Rocked by the waves, the child of a sailor, 
 when he arrived at manhood he, too, took to the 
 sea. His ears filled with the groans of an em- 
 pire in agony, whose voice lingered still as an 
 echo, his imagination excited, despite an osten- 
 sible calm, by the power and beauty of a liter- 
 ature built upon his name, Prince Napoleon 
 wished to revive a great epic, wished to be a 
 Napoleon I. This was one of many dreams ; 
 but he experienced neither Austerlitz, Water- 
 loo, nor Saint Helena. Fate apportioned him 
 instead, Chiselhurst, where men may die as upon 
 that desolate rock, but from which one may, 
 nevertheless, escape and still mount to glory. 
 Fate apportioned him Chiselhurst, which is on 
 the threshold of France, but from which he 
 did not return. 
 
■THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. II 
 
 I have already given a little sketch of the 
 Emperor Napoleon III. Never did a face re- 
 flect more perfectly a soul, never was a man 
 more fully than he the living, breathing embod- 
 iment of his feelings. The mind, the soul, of 
 the Emperor, still enveloped in visions of the 
 past, weary of the deceptions of which he had 
 been dupe, of the humiliations which he had 
 been called upon to undergo, seemed now to 
 falter before possible flight, as though stupefied 
 by the long sleep of his erring and almost 
 homeless boyhood. The bodily movements of 
 the Emperor were laboured, and gave an impres- 
 sion of indolence ; he seemed to be weighed 
 down by a chronic fatigue which he tried to 
 drive away, but which always returned and 
 took possession of him. In public and during 
 official ceremonies he made a great effort to 
 overcome this depression, but its power was 
 often stronger than his will. He then became 
 a rigorous observer of etiquette, an impassive 
 sovereign who received unmoved the homage 
 of courtiers, of officials, of office-seekers ; yet, 
 though he knew so well how to fill the rdle 
 of sovereign, he found the attitude which these 
 circumstances forced upon him wearisome be- 
 cause it deprived him of his beloved hours 
 of revery — revery called forth as much by 
 
12 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 appeals to the past as by delusive visions of 
 the future. He was only happy when he had 
 escaped from" critical observation, and could 
 once more assume his character of philosopher ; 
 when he was free physically, and mentally at 
 peace — a nobleman at home. 
 
 Those who but knew Napoleon III. among 
 the conventional surroundings of the court, did 
 not, in truth, know him at all. It is doubtless 
 interesting to study him in the public acts of 
 his life,' but no less interest attaches to his more 
 intimate personality or to his life as a private 
 individual. As, day by day, the Empress grew 
 more trying and more deceitful, the Emperor's 
 heart and manner alike grew colder. Outside 
 the hours devoted to work, and when he could 
 escape from the anxieties which the unstable 
 policy of his ministers occasioned him, he was 
 always affable and kind, eager to make others 
 happy, and to bring good fortune to all, like the 
 head of a family whose constant thought is for 
 those whom he loves and by whom he is loved. 
 With a pleasant word for all whom he met, he 
 used to wander through the Tuileries, examin- 
 ing and re-examining, as in a museum, the 
 works of art which, through infinite patience 
 and the aid of connoisseurs, he had collected. 
 Often, too, he would pass from his own room 
 
THE EMPEROR— HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 1 3 
 
 into the apartments of the Empress, a cigarette 
 between his lips, and surprise her as she sat 
 among the ladies of the court ; smoking still, 
 he would join in their idle talk, laugh at their 
 remarks, then leave them as quietly as he had 
 come, walking with that measured, swinging 
 step which was habitual to him. Occasionally 
 he would take a friend or an aide-de-camp and 
 drive out in a phaeton, accompanied by one 
 attendant only, and always keeping the reins 
 himself. He preferred, however, to stroll upon 
 the terrace of the Tuileries, along the banks of 
 the Seine ; there, with a confidential friend at 
 his side, more often General Lepic, or General 
 Fleury, he would walk quietly for long hours, 
 gazing now at the river-banks, now upon Paris, 
 in whose gardens troops of careless children 
 frolicked merrily. At his own side, too, there 
 often played a child who, however, was sepa- 
 rated from the others, and whose recreation was 
 controlled by official regulations. This was his 
 son, whom he loved as a fanatic loves his God, 
 for whom he lived after his fall, for whom he 
 twice died when his effort to save the child's 
 life betrayed him. The Emperor was troubled 
 by the restrictions imposed upon his son. He 
 would have loved to see him among the other 
 children, mingling with theirs his shouts of joy 
 
14 N/IPOLEON III. 
 
 or his tears of childish grief, full of youthful 
 spirits, and like them, a joy to look upon. He 
 longed to set him amongst these, but etiquette 
 required the poor, imperial child to sicken and 
 sadden among those friends whom alone con- 
 ventionalities permitted him to love. 
 
 One afternoon the Emperor realised his 
 dream. He took his son by the hand and 
 brought him into the public garden of the Tui- 
 leries. There was some little excitement when 
 the Prince Imperial was recognised among the 
 noisy crowd of little urchins, whose parents 
 were seated near them under the great trees, 
 watching their noisy offspring. The Emperor, 
 however, only laughed, and, bowing to the 
 crowd, pushed his son into the midst of the 
 children. "Go," he said, "go and play." The 
 bashful little Prince hesitated, perplexed by this 
 sudden liberty, by this unexpected contact with 
 human beings. " Go, Loulou," repeated the 
 Emperor, " go and play with them ; you will 
 soon see how kind they are, and they will grow 
 to love you dearly." That day Louis did indeed 
 play with the common children, while his father 
 watched him, his heart full of joy and tender- 
 ness. 
 
 When the Emperor returned to the Tuileries, 
 his face wore an expression of real content, that 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. I 5 
 
 content which may shine upon the face of a 
 true-hearted man. At dinner he told of his 
 little escapade, but a voice, that of the Em- 
 press, interrupted him sternly. 
 
 " You have acted most imprudently," said 
 she ; " why do you expose Louis to a compan- 
 ionship which he should never know, to the 
 companionship of ill-bred children ? " 
 
 The Emperor looked sadly up at the com- 
 pany. " Not all the children," he replied quietly, 
 " who play in the garden are ill-bred." 
 
 He said nothing more, but the joy had sud- 
 denly left his face. On this occasion, as on 
 many others, the young Empress had spoken 
 tactlessly, and, not understanding his nature, 
 had marred her husband's happiness. 
 
 I have already spoken of the lack of affection 
 shown the young Prince by his mother. I have 
 spoken of the way in which she brought him 
 up, with a harsh, conventional care devoid of all 
 demonstration and also of that tender simplicity 
 which makes the love of parents so divinely 
 human. I have also spoken of the Emperor's 
 untold love for his child. It is impossible to 
 emphasise too strongly this affection, or to con- 
 trast it too sharply with the cold indifference of 
 the Empress. It would, in short, be impossible 
 to overestimate the innate kindness of Napoleon 
 
1 6 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 III. The consideration which he showed his 
 child he would have liked to extend to all the 
 world. This kindliness of spirit was not con- 
 fined to his feeling for children ; it character- 
 ised as strongly his relations with men and even 
 those with his enemies. I will quote in support 
 of this statement but one example, an example 
 which is, however, convincing and eminently 
 characteristic. 
 
 When Orsini 1 was condemned to death, and 
 the question of pardon was submitted to the 
 Emperor, the ministers insisted that the matter 
 be referred to the cabinet. A council was 
 called, and when Napoleon III. firmly asserted 
 his right of pardon, in opposition to those who 
 wished his life, a violent discussion arose be- 
 tween him and his counsellors. The council 
 sat all night, and declared itself ready to hold 
 permanent session. It was only when Napoleon 
 III. saw that to persist in his determination 
 would bring about a political crisis, that he 
 yielded his privilege and sadly resigned himself 
 to necessity. 
 
 1 Orsini was one of the most desperate of Italian revolutionists. 
 Considering the Emperor Napoleon III. as a great obstacle to the 
 success of a general revolution throughout Europe, he, together with 
 three accomplices, attempted his assassination on January 14, 1858. 
 As Napoleon and the Empress were approaching the opera-house, he 
 caused several bombs to be thrown under their carriage, which, ex- 
 ploding, caused many deaths, though the Emperor and Empress 
 miraculously escaped unharmed. (Translator's note.) 
 
THE EMPEROR— HIS PRIVATE LIFE. I J 
 
 I am not in this instance judging Napoleon 
 III. as a politician, but rather as a private man. 
 It would be a base injustice, an injustice of 
 which I am, in the face of any circumstances, 
 incapable, to conceal the truth. 
 
 Whereas all the sentiments expressed by the 
 Empress were weak and superficial, the Emper- 
 or's affections and friendships were sincere and 
 deeply rooted. The Empress had sudden and 
 irrational attachments, which died on the very 
 day that they were born. The Emperor, who 
 was in every way the opposite of his wife in 
 character, was slow to give his affection ; but 
 when once given it remained constant, and was 
 only withdrawn under very exceptional circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The court was the scene of terrible jeal- 
 ousies, and of abominable animosities. In this 
 assembly, on the one hand, of men and women 
 newly initiated into grandeur, and an arrogant 
 though subservient aristocracy, surrounded, on 
 the other hand, by a foreign nobility and a 
 sullen bourgeoisie with an uncontrolled thirst 
 for pleasure, — in such a community, I say, 
 plots, competitions, and rivalries were a nat- 
 ural and a logical result of circumstance. The 
 political and the social worlds gave free play 
 to their reciprocal intrigues ; and as each mem- 
 
1 8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ber of society cast aside all thought of the 
 future, an inordinate desire for present pleas- 
 ures sprung up, and an entirely selfish enjoy- 
 ment of them. 
 
 The Emperor, who was often appealed to 
 concerning these secret dramas, held himself 
 aloof from either side. He usually listened 
 patiently to the complaints, and to the claims 
 which were laid before him, but he forgot them 
 as quickly as they were heard. He did not 
 place in his friends thus slandered less confi- 
 dence than before ; and if he afterwards spoke 
 with them of what he had heard, it was only 
 that they might laugh over it together. 
 
 " Do not defend yourself," he said one day to 
 a friend who had been the victim of some jeal- 
 ous rival ; " I love you all the more dearly 
 because unkind things have been said of you." 
 
 It was in this way and with such words that 
 he won the affection of his subjects, who, let 
 it be fairly stated, nobly retained for him, even 
 after his fall, an unalterable devotion. Certain 
 courtiers, however, by their constantly repeated 
 assaults, wearied the patience of honest men, 
 and finally compelled them to retire from the 
 council-boards, and to remain absent from the 
 Tuileries. 
 
 The attitude of the habitues of the court was 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 1 9 
 
 well calculated to distress those who were the 
 disinterested friends of the Emperor. These 
 arrogant noblemen and frivolous scoffers, en- 
 couraged and protected by the Empress, made 
 victims of their sarcasm, their abuse, and their 
 insupportable scorn, all persons who by some 
 special talent for letters, science, art, or poli- 
 tics, had attracted the attention of Napoleon 
 III. The courtiers considered the Tuileries a 
 sort of booty, to whose pillage they were exclu- 
 sively entitled ; every newcomer was regarded 
 as an interloper, and his privileges carefully 
 restricted lest he should, perhaps, rob them of 
 their prerogatives, or win too much favor from 
 the Emperor. 
 
 In speaking of " pillage " I have used a strong 
 word ; but the Emperor's house was, indeed, 
 portioned out in equal shares by its guests and 
 beneficiaries. The indifference of Napoleon 
 III. to money was well known, and this indif- 
 ference was with little scruple turned to their 
 own advantage by the courtiers. To impose 
 upon the Empress was, however, more difficult. 
 They stood in some awe of her own instincts 
 of economy, and also feared the terrible Pepa 
 who kept her accounts, and had an eye on her 
 expenditures, so that none might reap benefits 
 from this field, to whose good things the Em- 
 
20 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 press had sole right. Gaining nothing in this 
 direction, they, however, robbed the Emperor 
 largely, and with little attempt at concealment. 
 The Emperor was not ignorant of these thefts, 
 but he feigned ignorance, silenced by his in- 
 stinctive horror of bickerings and his inex- 
 haustible sympathy for all those in need. He 
 was not the only person, however, aware of this 
 state of things ; General Lepic was one of the 
 few men who could speak with perfect frank- 
 ness to the Emperor. 
 
 " You are being robbed, sire," said he one day ; 
 "if you do not put an end to this squandering, 
 the Tuileries will soon cease to be yours at all." 
 
 The Emperor sadly shook his head without 
 replying. 
 
 " It would be hard to find," added the General, 
 "three thoroughly honest, upright men among 
 those around you." 
 
 Severe as was this statement, truth was 
 written upon the face of it — truth, emphasized 
 by the fact that the very courtiers who openly 
 robbed him, professed absolute devotion and 
 were ready at any moment to sacrifice their 
 lives for him ; it seems, indeed, as though they 
 were almost unconscious of the disloyalty of 
 their own acts, finding in their real affection 
 for him an excuse for its violation. This is, it 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 21 
 
 is true, a paradox, a sort of gambling with the 
 affections. I am, however, convinced that, had 
 it been impossible to extract money from the 
 Emperor, these men would, nevertheless, have 
 remained faithful to him. The morals of the 
 court were peculiar to itself. At the Tuileries 
 good and evil were not, in the eyes of its chosen 
 circle at least, measured by the same standards 
 as in the world outside. 
 
 Not only did the Tuileries have a special code 
 of morals, it also had a religion of its own. The 
 Empress, Spanish in all her sentiments, would 
 have muttered a prayer at the same moment 
 that she was watching a charade. Her court, 
 like herself, worshipped God in the Spanish 
 fashion. The men went with a devotion equally 
 divided, either to mass or to their mistresses' 
 boudoirs. The women were at once frivolous 
 and devout, and would meet their lovers, on 
 issuing from the confessional, looking indiffer- 
 ently upon penance and upon the renewal of 
 their sins. 
 
 There is an amusing story illustrating the 
 religious practices at the Tuileries. 
 
 Mme. de Montijo, the Empress's mother, was 
 extremely devout, and she never failed on seeing 
 her daughter, to ask concerning the state of the 
 Emperor's soul. 
 
22 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 " How does he stand in relation to the good 
 God ? " she would ask. " Is he in favour with the 
 Holy Virgin ? Does he pursue the right course 
 toward them, and is he careful in the perform- 
 ance of his devotions ?" 
 
 The Empress always replied that he seemed 
 to be on pleasant terms with the good God and 
 with the Holy Virgin ; that he went to mass 
 and to confessional, and was always generous 
 towards the Church. 
 
 This was perfectly true ; Napoleon observed 
 his religious duties with a faithfulness easily 
 mistaken for true fervour. He was not, how- 
 ever, a believer, and only carried out these obser- 
 vances in obedience to the State, which required 
 from the head of the nation an example of re- 
 spect toward the Church. He also wished to 
 avoid quarrels with the Empress and the loud 
 lamentations which any other course would have 
 called forth from his mother-in-law. He was 
 not at heart religious, but he did not dare let it 
 appear that he was not so, and through the inter- 
 vention of his wife, he became the defender of 
 Papacy at Rome. He showed great concern for 
 the bishops, and made himself popular with all 
 the curates. Referring to this purely surface de- 
 votion, which was made a real necessity to him, 
 Napoleon III. once told an amusing story to a few 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 23 
 
 of the intimate friends who were gathered round 
 him in the privacy of his own study — the sole 
 retreat where he felt himself at home and free. 
 
 When in the country with the Empress, so 
 the story ran, at the time of a Church feast, 
 Her Majesty persuaded him that good policy 
 required his communing upon this solemn oc- 
 casion. It was of course necessary that he 
 should first confess himself, and as neither 
 the prelate nor the priest • — • one or the other 
 of whom ordinarily acted as confessor — were 
 present, he was forced to ask absolution from 
 the curate of the place. There was in Napo- 
 leon III. a love of mischief which found ready 
 expression in innocent little pleasantries, not 
 without wit, and which caused him infinite 
 amusement. On this occasion the Emperor 
 was seized with a desire to have a little fun at 
 the expense of the priest who was about to 
 shrive him. The poor divine was much agi- 
 tated by the novel duty which he was called 
 upon to perform, and had seated himself in the 
 confessional with much trepidation, almost with 
 terror. What, then, were his feelings when 
 Napoleon III. began to speak! The sovereign 
 had conceived the idea of accusing himself of 
 all sorts of impossible crimes and follies. Each 
 new confidence was interrupted by a sudden and 
 
24 N/IPOLEON III. 
 
 persistent cough, which the priest, fearing to 
 learn the further transgressions of his sinful 
 penitent, had suddenly developed. This game 
 was highly amusing to the Emperor, who, 
 observing that the cough grew more and more 
 severe, paused for a moment. 
 
 " You have a very bad cold, my good curate," 
 said he. " I will wait till that painful cough is 
 a little quieted, before continuing my confes- 
 sion. I am a great sinner, and want you to 
 hear what I have to tell." 
 
 The cough then suddenly ceased, but the 
 priest grew more and more confused. 
 
 "If your Majesty," he said, "will permit me, 
 I will grant your Majesty immediate absolution. 
 That which has been already said satisfies my 
 conscience." 
 
 Napoleon III., however, insisted upon full 
 confession, while the curate expressed his pref- 
 erence for absolution. 
 
 "An emperor," he added with some shrewd- 
 ness, " is, I see, unlike other men. I pray 
 your Majesty, therefore, to permit a somewhat 
 unusual treatment." 
 
 The Emperor, much amused and a little sur- 
 prised at the wit which his confessor had shown, 
 brought the proceeding to a, close, and, on leav- 
 ing the confessional, gave the curate a heavy 
 purse for his poor. 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 2$ 
 
 It has been observed that the Emperor stood 
 in great horror of the recriminations and lamen- 
 tations, in regard to religious matters, of Mme. 
 de Montijo, mother of the Empress. Nor was 
 it only with regard to these that he had reason 
 to dread the Countess. His fears were of long 
 standing. If, indeed, any cause could have 
 arisen before their marriage to separate Napo- 
 leon III. from the object of his passionate devo- 
 tion, that cause would have been, without 
 doubt, the mother of the future Empress. He 
 was not ignorant of her past, of her doubtful 
 morals, of her tendency to confuse good and 
 evil, and to adopt a kind of virtue hardly deserv- 
 ing the name ; he did not wish, indeed, that his 
 young wife should hold too intimate relations 
 with her mother, but he did not succeed in pre- 
 venting these relations. When Mme. de Mon- 
 tijo was at Paris, she saw her daughter every 
 day, and when she was in Spain a vigorous cor- 
 respondence was kept up. 
 
 The Emperor, in marrying Mile, de Montijo, 
 had beyond a doubt given his name and his 
 throne to a pure woman. Certain combinations 
 of circumstances had at one time occasioned 
 doubts in Napoleon's heart, which, though after- 
 wards quieted by the dignified attitude of the 
 young girl, had nevertheless left their traces 
 
26 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 behind them, such as might, perhaps, be left on 
 the heart of any man accustomed to question 
 his fiancee as closely as Napoleon did his. 
 
 Mile, de Montijo confessed that she had loved 
 before she had met him, which confession was 
 true. Having visited with her mother many 
 fashionable watering-places, having lived at Paris 
 and at Madrid, in the midst of a lax society 
 composed largely of foreigners, Mile, de Mon- 
 tijo had frequently met men who had been 
 impressed with her beauty. Indulged and en- 
 couraged by her mother, she had tied and untied 
 several love-knots ; it was the knowledge of 
 this fact which troubled the Emperor, reveal- 
 ing, as it did, with how little scruple Mme. de 
 Montijo had countenanced a doubtful line of 
 conduct. 
 
 Mme. de Montijo is certainly a curious char- 
 acter, and must ever remain so. She is a good 
 representative of that type of woman in modern 
 life who takes little heed of conventionalities, 
 and who, having a beautiful and a marriageable 
 daughter, goes in quest of the desired husband. 
 One encounters this type to-day on the shores 
 of the Mediterranean. During the Second 
 Empire resorts situated among the Pyrenees 
 were in high favour, and it was toward that 
 region that Mme. de Montijo directed both her 
 steps and her hopes. 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 27 
 
 Possessing an income of a hundred thousand 
 francs, she went to the shore in summer, usually 
 to Biarritz, and spent the autumns and winters 
 in Paris. Accompanied by her daughter, she 
 frequented the salons which, thanks to influen- 
 tial friends, such as, for example, the Marquis 
 de la Rochelambert, formerly French minister 
 to Prussia, opened their doors wide to her. She 
 was seen at the Comedie-Francaise, and at the 
 Opera ; and she held, at her home in the Place 
 Venddme, receptions which were not without a 
 certain notoriety. Politicians in large numbers 
 frequented these salons, each attracted by the 
 charms of the young girl, who, by her constant 
 strategy, kept them always on the verge of 
 hope. Mme. de Montijo was at this time very 
 open-hearted and sincere. She had little objec- 
 tion to scandal, even to calumny, if these could 
 be employed in bringing about a desirable mar- 
 riage for her daughter — a marriage which 
 should put an end to her adventurous wander- 
 ings, threatening now to become interminable. 
 With a well-assumed artlessness, she was cordial 
 to every one, but, the candidate out of sight, 
 she would fix his exact value, and weigh him as 
 a jeweller weighs an ounce of gold, and then 
 without pity set him aside if he did not possess 
 the fortune and the future prospects which her 
 
28 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 ambition, and also, be it said, her mother's heart, 
 demanded. This mother did indeed love her 
 child sincerely. Though she expressed her 
 love in a way shocking to us because contrary 
 to our French customs, such violation cannot 
 prove her love to be less, or justify our doubt 
 of it. 
 
 Mme. de Montijo would not have hesitated, 
 had no favourable opportunity of marriage pre- 
 sented itself, to have her daughter become the 
 mistress of some man of note, a prince or a 
 minister. In this arrangement she would have 
 thought only of her child's interests, and would 
 have considered no personal advantage to her- 
 self which she might gain thereby. Her morals 
 were those imputed to certain actresses' moth- 
 ers, except that the Countess was neither avari- 
 cious nor selfish. 
 
 The reader will remember the letter which 
 she wrote to her friend, the Marquis de la 
 Rochelambert, after the marriage of Mile, de 
 Montijo with the Emperor had been arranged. 
 This letter was sincere in its spirit, and gave ex- 
 pression to truly kind and natural feelings. At 
 that time the Countess, overtaken by an unex- 
 pected joy, thought only of the probable fruits 
 of that joy, and gave herself up to the pursuit 
 of those maternal duties from which so much 
 happiness was to result. 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 29 
 
 When her daughter became Empress, her 
 position necessarily changed. The Emperor 
 exacted of her a reserve which she could not 
 hope again to throw off. In her inmost heart, 
 she perhaps longed for her past freedom. She 
 became sullen and tearful, and harassed Napo- 
 leon III., as well as her daughter, with multitu- 
 dinous inquiries, demands, and complaints. She 
 had an inordinate love of jewellery, and her pur- 
 chases were all made known at the Tuileries by 
 a bill which, together with a supplicating letter, 
 was regularly submitted to the Empress. Had 
 she been given free rein, she would have become 
 a very great encumbrance ; but the Emperor saw 
 that she was kept within fixed bounds. Mme. 
 de Montijo was, in short, neither altogether 
 good, nor yet quite the reverse, and exerted 
 but small influence on the life of Napoleon III. 
 She was the unconscious instrument of an un- 
 kind fate, and in the family life of the Em- 
 peror she played the part of many a plebeian 
 mother who has been fortunate enough to 
 have a beautiful daughter. A nobleman one 
 day sees the daughter and marries her; but 
 he carefully hides his mother-in-law. It is a 
 common story in many a family among the 
 aristocracy, and it is that of Napoleon III. 
 
 I have in my previous works told many anec- 
 
30 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 dotes, and stated some facts which give a truth- 
 ful picture of the home-life of Napoleon III. 
 Judging from an external view of my state- 
 ments, this home-life was not, in appearance 
 at least, altogether unsatisfactory. Despite 
 appearances, however, and the affectionate 
 letters which the sovereigns, during their 
 infrequent official separations, exchanged, the 
 union was not happy. It had been hastily 
 made under the influence, on the one side, of 
 a violent passion, and on the other by a line 
 of cold, calculating argument and deliberate 
 determination It suffered the inevitable fate 
 of all such unions. Calm and satiety follow 
 the first feverish hours of joy, and fill the man 
 with a consciousness of disappointment and of 
 mistaken hopes. He sees that what he has pur- 
 chased through many a folly, many a sacrifice, 
 has given him but a material and a transitory 
 joy, the most superficial, the least enduring, of 
 all joys. He sees that there is a spiritual bar- 
 rier between him and his wife, that she can 
 respond to no feeling of his, understand nothing 
 that is dear to him ; and bitterness then replaces 
 love in his heart. In the presence of his cold 
 reserve, the wife, who, though never having 
 loved, is yet accustomed to affection, to com- 
 panionship, and to admiring flattery, rebels, 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 3 1 
 
 and, under the sting of a wounded and an heart- 
 less vanity, becomes moody, irritable and ner- 
 vous, finally giving way to a feeling of honest 
 jealousy. Such is the romance of Napoleon 
 III., such, also, the romance of the Empress 
 Eugenie. 
 
 They had, nevertheless, three years of unal- 
 loyed happiness, which began on January 30, 
 1853, the day of their marriage, and lasted till 
 March 16, 1856, when the Prince Imperial was 
 born. After this time all intimacy between the 
 Emperor and the Empress ceased. Napoleon 
 III. deserted his wife, and bestowed his affec- 
 tions upon whoever called them forth. 
 
 It might, perhaps, have been possible at that 
 time for the young wife to win back the love of 
 her husband, but despite the power which, dur- 
 ing their courtship, she had possessed over the 
 Emperor's heart — the letters which she had then 
 written him and which he had found so charm- 
 ing, were dictated to her by Merim^e — notwith- 
 standing her power at that period, she showed 
 herself essentially tactless in the relations of 
 married life. Of a cold, unimpassioned tem- 
 perament, she had nothing to offer but false 
 protestations of love ; she thus became power- 
 less to keep the affections of her husband, who 
 could no longer doubt that in the first exalta- 
 
32 N/4POLEON III. 
 
 tion of his feeling, in the blindness of his hope, 
 he had given far more than he had received. 
 His wife no longer satisfied him ; and he left 
 her without remorse, as a lover deserts an un- 
 feeling mistress, pursued by the cruelty, the 
 egotism of a lonely, an unreciprocated love. 
 
 With a little conjugal tact, the Empress 
 might certainly have lessened for herself, as 
 well as for the Emperor, the loneliness of their 
 domestic life. She might have aroused in her 
 simple-hearted husband, if not a new love, a 
 feeling of remorse which would certainly have 
 checked the increasing coldness between them. 
 She, however, was no diplomat. Beset with 
 pride, she but followed its promptings, and 
 harassed the Emperor with complaints and 
 reproaches, which wearied him and drove him 
 more than ever from his home. There thus 
 arose a daily warfare between them. Napo- 
 leon III., gentle by nature, tried to avoid dis- 
 cussions, and fled from his wife's anger and her 
 accusations, dreading, indeed, to be alone with 
 her. He lived in constant terror of conten- 
 tious scenes, which seemed endless, and which 
 filled him with disgust of his own home. There 
 was no retreat in the palace where she would 
 not find and follow him. In his own study, 
 the one place where he might hope for repose, 
 
THE EMPEROR— HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 33 
 
 he was only half safe. It often happened when 
 he was studying or, perhaps, talking to some 
 visitor, that a door would be slyly opened and 
 the Empress's head disclosed through the 
 crack, her face wearing an anxious, hard, and 
 inquisitive expression. If it happened that 
 the visitor were a woman, he was certain to 
 receive, after she had left, a multitude of 
 reproaches, and was compelled to endure a 
 sulky face for many succeeding days. 
 
 The Emperor was fond of women, and by na- 
 ture irresistibly attracted to them. There is, 
 however, every reason to believe that he would 
 have sought their society less, had he found at 
 home that companionship and that tenderness 
 for which he had doubtless hoped. A separa- 
 tion or a divorce could alone remedy this state 
 of things ; but these, as I have elsewhere shown, 
 were forbidden the Emperor, and it was with no 
 hope of realisation that he dreamed of this expe- 
 dient for recovering his liberty, and also that 
 serenity which was at once necessary to his 
 personal happiness and to the pursuit of his 
 imperial duties. 
 
 The Empress had a fatal influence upon the 
 political as well as the private life of Napoleon 
 III. We must even believe that the anxieties 
 which she occasioned him at home were not 
 
34 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 without influence in bringing about a certain 
 lack of force and a weakness of will-power, 
 whose result was the omnipotence of the 
 Empress, and which also helped to lay at 
 home and abroad the foundations of a despic- 
 able policy, the formal expression of an author- 
 ity which emphasised the weakness of Napoleon 
 III., to increase the discontent of statesmen and 
 strengthen the claims of the people. These 
 causes contained, indeed, the germs of the war 
 of 1870. This is undoubtedly the psychological 
 analysis of the Second Empire : psychology is 
 not always a romantic word. 
 
 In order to escape a certain kind of criticism, 
 and also that I may avert any possible misun- 
 derstanding as to the purpose of my work, I 
 have already stated that I make no pretence 
 of writing the history of the Second Empire, 
 according to the sense in which the word his- 
 tory is usually understood. My object is to set 
 before the public, in their more intimate rela- 
 tions, certain persons and events which char- 
 acterise that epoch, and to trace their course. 
 If there are some who have preferred to mis- 
 understand my thought, there are surely others 
 who have grasped it. I cannot, however, too 
 strongly emphasise my purpose or establish 
 my position, wishing, as I do, to avoid all use- 
 less discussion and criticism. 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 35 
 
 It is in accordance with my original idea that 
 I have spoken of the private life of Napoleon 
 III. Still in harmony with it I will complete 
 the sketch. 
 
 The somewhat monotonous amusements af- 
 forded the Emperor in his private life at the 
 Tuileries are well known, and also the ingen- 
 ious efforts of wise and devoted friends to 
 lessen their dulness. 
 
 When the public heard that there were cha- 
 rades at court and amusing tableaux-vivants, the 
 habitues of the palace took alarm at the sudden 
 amazement and the severe criticism of the peo- 
 ple. It was, therefore, decided that the news- 
 papers should, as far as possible, be kept ignorant 
 of affairs relative to the private life of the Em- 
 peror and Empress. It was even agreed that 
 foreign papers which gave accounts of imperial 
 life at the palace should be confiscated on the 
 frontier. It will be remembered that the Em- 
 press, sharing the indignation of the courtiers, 
 wrote a letter concerning a much-talked-of cha- 
 rade acted at Fontainebleau, in which she gave 
 vent to her bitterness. 
 
 There is a document not less curious, which 
 reveals this universal dread of publicity, and 
 gives a just idea of the attitude maintained by 
 the court to the people. This mean, paltry, and 
 
36 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 arrogant spirit is represented as fully as pos- 
 sible in this document, which was but intended 
 for private reading. 
 
 " All the papers," says the author of this note, " have 
 published accounts of the hunt which, in honour of her 
 Majesty, the Empress, will be held at Saint-Cloud, They 
 also describe in full the proceedings which are to take 
 place in Compiegne. The Petit Crayon, after consult- 
 ing its council of state, has decided that such mat- 
 ters should not be made public. The following are its 
 reasons : — 
 
 " Should one read the Moniteur of the time of Napo- 
 leon I., such a simple statement as ' The Emperor 
 hunted ' would alone be found. In this we have a good 
 example. 
 
 " Again, the infuriated enemies of the government, 
 who find in every circumstance an opportunity to destroy, 
 undo, dissolve, and annihilate, have here a fine pretext 
 to continue their work; for there is deeply rooted in 
 France a foolish impression that all monarchs who have 
 been hunters have made but poor rulers. There are 
 thousands of stories to this effect which, on the long 
 winter evenings, are circulated in the corn-sheds of the 
 peasants. The first Napoleon knew this, and saw that 
 the Moniteur stated but the bare fact : ' The Emperor 
 hunted.' In many cases even this notice was omitted. 
 A suffering people is jealous of everything ; it feels that 
 its interests are alone to be considered, that its burdens 
 are too heavy to bear ! 
 
 "We consider, furthermore, the descriptions pub- 
 lished of her Majesty's toilettes quite beyond the bounds 
 of decency. She is, in all truth, the victim of sufficient 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 37 
 
 slander, without our furnishing the material for more of 
 that scandal which pursues its pitiless work under cover. 
 
 " This, moreover, is not all. Frenchmen are born 
 poachers, and their envy is aroused by any one who is 
 able to hunt under their very eyes and without them. 
 This is a strange but a true fact. Let us, then, imagine 
 the news spread among thirty-six million poachers, which 
 is what we are, that the Emperor and Empress, instead 
 of inventing means to lessen their miseries, have hunted 
 and killed some thousands of pheasants, etc. This would 
 be but to' nourish envy, and to open the gates to 
 calumny. 
 
 " The Petit Crayon is convinced that accounts of the 
 hunt are furnished by some foolish fellow to one of those 
 sly foxes who are continually prowling round in search 
 of a victim for their hatred. There are many enemies to 
 be found in the court itself. 
 
 " The Petit Crayon begs that journalists shall not be 
 allowed at Compiegne, and believes that its advice is 
 good. The world will then no longer be supplied with 
 accounts of the imperial hunts and diversions." 
 
 These lines are written in pencil, as the pseu- 
 donym of their author would suggest. The chi- 
 rography resembles that of Merimee ; it seems 
 probable that he who gave such good advice 
 to Mile, de Montijo before her marriage should 
 be responsible for them. We must not, of 
 course, exaggerate their importance ; but I 
 think they will not prove quite useless to those 
 who, after me, may seek by philosophical analy- 
 sis to understand the character of the Second 
 
38 NAPOLEON III 
 
 Empire. I can form no estimate of what the 
 future's verdict will be, but can only hope that 
 to it this curious epoch which occupies and 
 often perplexes my mind, occasioning me, by 
 an accumulation of perplexing facts, doubt and 
 surprise — I can only hope, I say, that to it 
 this strange period of the Second Empire will 
 be easier of comprehension than it has been 
 to me. 
 
 What, indeed, is not confused and incoherent 
 in the court of the Tuileries, in the surround- 
 ings of the Emperor and the Empress, whose 
 union was itself a defiance of all reason ? 
 
 We have seen in the preceding paragraphs 
 how great was the fear at the Tuileries of any- 
 thing which might place the public in contact 
 with the affairs of court, of anything, indeed, 
 which could lessen the authority or the prestige 
 of those who wielded the power, and who, at 
 their will, might create a nation's happiness, or 
 call forth its tears. It is strange to find these 
 courtiers, these monarchs, who were made in- 
 dignant by accounts published of their amuse- 
 ments and by the revelations of their daily life, 
 rushing with a thoughtless inconsistency to the 
 representations of the operettas which at that 
 time were in the height of the fashion. The 
 diabolic Offenbach had invented these to the 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 39 
 
 great satisfaction, not only of the people, — the 
 people which felt its power and its pride greater 
 when in the presence of those stage heroes gro- 
 tesquely royal or divine, — but also to the sat- 
 isfaction of the men and women of the court, 
 who, blinded by a stupid vanity, did not hear 
 the laughter of the people, or perceive that it 
 was but amused by General Bourn and the 
 Grande Duchesse, because these were conven- 
 tionalised types of what they knew to be reali- 
 ties ; because under the Second Empire it ob- 
 tained no chance to look upon the great ones 
 of this world, except when these were masked, 
 or else disguised in the transparent tinsel of 
 the carnival. The populace did indeed christen 
 with real names the puppet faces of the opera. 
 There is here a subtle suggestion to be noted 
 in studying the history of the Second Empire. 
 
 Jacques Offenbach appeared at a moment of 
 great psychological interest. Like a skilful 
 handler of a magic-lantern, he threw a strong 
 light upon the minds of the people, inspired 
 them with a sense of their own rights, with 
 strong hatreds, fierce scorn, and sweet hopes of 
 deliverance. He moved in the midst of a 
 great living parody. His long, Mephistophelian 
 shadow crept in and out among a crowd of dis- 
 jointed beings, and is felt in the vortex of a 
 
40 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 whirling mass of humanity. He played the 
 part of sorcerer ; he presided over the orgies 
 of pleasure ; he was the delirious leader .of an 
 orchestra composed of laughter, folly, and ex- 
 travagance, of light and sensual loves ; an 
 orchestra whose first strains were those of an 
 infernal life-march, whose last a noisy chaos of 
 sound, after which came silence and a great 
 void. 
 
 I remember a few years ago, just after his 
 death, standing beside Offenbach's coffin. 
 " That corpse," said a man near me, " is 
 the corpse of the first socialist of our day ; 
 it was he who, in reality, put an end to the 
 Second Empire — that Second Empire which 
 was deemed to be eternal." 
 
 The speaker was right. The work of Offen- 
 bach was a high trump card slipped into the 
 hand of the Empire's opponent. He, more 
 than any, hastened the overthrow of official 
 prestige. In adorning with gilt braid the 
 cuffs of his General Boum and of his fiery 
 Achilles, in placing the captain's plume on 
 the head of Corporal Fritz, Offenbach com- 
 mitted a revolutionary act. The Empire was 
 crumbling under the sonorous shock of his 
 musical cadences, while the footlights in his 
 theatres shone with the reflection of Roche- 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 41 
 
 fort's Lanterne. He laughed no less than did 
 those whom he amused by his own drolleries, 
 dreaming, perhaps, as little as they that the 
 clashing music of his quadrilles and of his 
 boleros should some day be accompanied by 
 the terrible bass of the cannon. 
 
 He prepared with strong spices and with vin- 
 egar the colossal salad of kings and emperors, 
 of princes, marshals, and functionaries, a salad 
 which the future was to devour. While from 
 the heights of the legislative tribunal the 
 " Five " were hurling into the midst of the 
 people words that roused the country, Offen- 
 bach used his conductor's baton as a cudgel 
 with which to deal formidable blows upon the 
 heads of potentates. 
 
 He was Moliere set to draw the bow upon a 
 squeaking fiddle. More than once the shadow 
 of that other honest scoffer must have laughed 
 in the presence of these operatic revolutionists, 
 and shaken the bells on his fool's cap by way 
 of applause and approval. 
 
 This century is accused of giving birth to 
 a sceptical and a pleasure-loving generation. 
 Such a verdict fails to take into account the 
 applause which Mile. Schneider, the first inter- 
 preter of Offenbach, called forth when, with her 
 father's famous sword, she made her superb 
 
42 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 thrust at the person of prince and commoner 
 alike. This sword had a sharp edge, and Mile. 
 Schneider used it marvellously well in cutting 
 down old theories. 
 
 We must not, however, attribute to Offen- 
 bach's destructive and democratic work an 
 exaggerated importance. Though with every 
 drawing of his musician's bow, he overthrew 
 some prejudice and shattered some idol, to as- 
 cribe to him an undue influence upon the events 
 of the Second Empire would be to give way to 
 a childish enthusiasm. Jacques Offenbach cre- 
 ated a fashion for scoffing, and made a whole 
 generation dance the death-dance of doubt and 
 irreverence ; it would, however, be but foolish- 
 ness to believe that the notes of his fife or the 
 thunder of his drum resounded beyond his own 
 generation. His name is, nevertheless, forever 
 linked with the history of the Second Empire ; 
 and in that final shock which overthrew the 
 Tuileries and its court, is heard the ring of 
 his prophetic voice. He is a curious phase 
 of the psychological life of the imperial world ; 
 he was one of those infinitesimal atoms which, 
 when accumulated in vast numbers, formed the 
 fearful avalanche that swept the Emperor and 
 his court into the fathomless abyss of destiny. 
 It was essential from the standpoint of justice 
 
THE EMPEROR — HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 43 
 
 to mention him here, essential that a place 
 should be given him by the side of the 
 many persons who, like worms and butter- 
 flies, swarmed in the Second Empire ; it is but 
 fair that he should be accounted one drop in 
 that great sea which, at times calm and again 
 tossed in storm, rocked the life of Napoleon III. 
 In private life the Emperor was a man like 
 other men, sharing the faults and the charac- 
 teristics common to all. He was, however, dis- 
 tinguished from other men, be they kings or 
 simple citizens, by a deep and a sincere love 
 of humanity, by a spirit of true kindliness. It 
 would surely be ignoble to forget the high sen- 
 timents by which he was so often animated, and 
 to consider only his faults. I know no sinless 
 man. Professional moralists are often less sin- 
 less than are those to whom they preach. I, 
 therefore, have no desire to imitate them in 
 their denunciations or to give way to any 
 indignation concerning the irregularities of the 
 Emperor's private life. These irregularities had 
 no direct influence upon the politics pursued at 
 the Tuileries, if, indeed, exception be made of 
 two or three of the women who at one time 
 or another were mistresses of Napoleon III. 
 These women were no more a vital part of 
 the Emperor's life than were meteors in the 
 
44 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 far-off firmament, meteors whose light illu- 
 mined the immensity, but which were then 
 forever lost within the night. 
 
 There was a charming custom in olden days 
 of covering with rose leaves the heads of lovers 
 and of their fair mistresses. Without requiring 
 such homage for Napoleon III., I would yet 
 beg indulgence for his frailties, and wish that 
 their revelation might be met without indigna- 
 tion, but rather with that smiling philosophy 
 which, more than anger or reproach, is in 
 harmony with the French character. 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 45 
 
 II. 
 
 THE EMPEROR CONSIDERED AS A POLITICIAN. 
 
 We are familiar with the attitude assumed 
 by the Parisian world toward Prince Louis Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte during his presidency. Descend- 
 ant of the greatest name of the century, heir of 
 a legendary history, the Prince was yet the 
 object of raillery and of systematic scepticism. 
 No confidence was placed in him ; he was, in- 
 deed, hardly considered seriously ; his appoint- 
 ment was accepted in the absence of anything 
 better, with the feeling that some other man 
 would soon take the place which he then occu- 
 pied. This attitude of the people is curious, 
 but more curious still is the reception which 
 Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte received when, 
 in 1848, he presented himself as candidate for 
 deputy. An atmosphere of absurdity seems to 
 have surrounded the person of the applicant. 
 The uprisings at Strasburg and at Boulogne, 
 even his captivity and his escape, were set forth 
 in a humorous article, and ridicule followed him 
 wherever he went. 
 
46 NAPOLEON III 
 
 The upper classes of society, the political 
 world — and in this world were included those 
 of no social rank, Bohemians, and even the un- 
 principled — alike turned from him. The popu- 
 lace, made vaguely anxious by the mention of 
 his name, hoped to gain nothing from him, lis- 
 tened indifferently to his appeals, and dared 
 place no faith in that great awakening which 
 he prophesied. 
 
 Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte was alone, 
 absolutely alone, in 1848, surrounded only by 
 strangers, by common workmen, and small mer- 
 chants. The truth of this statement, if we 
 except the army, which was ready to enter the 
 field for his cause, is fairly staggering. The 
 electoral committee of the Prince was composed, 
 when, after his first election he arrived in Paris 
 from London, of two shoemakers, a coal-dealer, 
 a hair-dresser, and an upholsterer. Those who, 
 in the nature of things, should have marched 
 in the van, those who should have cheered 
 him, taken him by the hand and presented him 
 to the people, these and the survivors or the 
 descendants of that aristocracy which had been 
 created by his uncle, — even these, I say, seemed 
 to have forgotten his coming, seemed to ignore 
 his very existence, prudently keeping them- 
 selves out of his way and apart from one who 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 47 
 
 was deemed of little use, and of far too compro- 
 mising a nature. 
 
 Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte was alone in 
 1 848 ; he had neither friends nor money. There 
 was, however, one man of power at his side, a 
 man of true intelligence, and one whose devo- 
 tion is unequalled, who believed in him, watched 
 over him, and worked for him. This was M. de 
 Persigny ; and when, in later days, the Prince, 
 who had then become Emperor, gave him his 
 unalterable friendship, it should be remembered 
 that this friendship was but natural and, one 
 might say, obligatory. 
 
 We have seen how little respect his electoral 
 committee could hope to inspire at the time of 
 Napoleon's arrival in Paris. This committee 
 held its sessions in a small office situated at the 
 back of a dark passage-way ; but despite its 
 extreme indigence, it had, nevertheless, assured 
 the triumph of its candidate. 
 
 Some time before the election, M. de Roth- 
 schild, having positively declined to furnish the 
 imperial candidate with funds, the poor mem- 
 bers of whom the committee was composed 
 were obliged to collect pennies in any quarter 
 where they could, in order that the name of 
 their Prince might be placed on the walls of the 
 capital. They frequented the faubourgs, spoke 
 
48 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 to the people in their own language, and only 
 returned after having increased the number of 
 their adherents, and having won rare promises 
 concerning the vote which was to decide a 
 nation's destiny. The committee was not, in 
 reality, without some apprehension concerning 
 the result of this vote. Its machinations, how- 
 ever, had been more clever than it knew. In 
 stirring the ashes of the Imperial Epic, they had 
 won the hearts of the women. It may also be 
 affirmed that it was the women — the women 
 of the people — who brought about the triumph 
 of the Prince. 
 
 The story of this triumph is indeed a curious 
 bit of history, like the parody of an old-time 
 farce. Labourers' wives, moved by the remem- 
 brance of Napoleon I., and also by that of his 
 son, who, a melancholy shadow, wandered far 
 from him, and by the knowledge, too, of the 
 efforts made by Prince Louis to regain the 
 throne, embraced his candidacy with great zeal, 
 inspired by one of those irrational enthusiasms 
 which are characteristic of all women, plebeian 
 and patrician alike ; and they, by the side of 
 their husbands, conducted a fierce campaign in 
 his cause. They were almost ready, like their 
 sisters of long ago, to lay down their lives for 
 their hero. 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 49 
 
 The common woman has considerable influ- 
 ence over him whom in vulgar phraseology she 
 terms her " man." This expression is not, 
 however, without its poetry. 
 
 On the day before the election, all Paris, 
 and, indeed, all France, was laughing at the can- 
 didacy of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. He was 
 made a subject of mockery, nor was his election 
 ever for a moment considered as a possibility. 
 When, however, the ballots were counted 
 France stood by in consternation. The Prince 
 was elected by a majority of more than eighty 
 thousand. Precedent had been stronger than 
 prejudice. The most refractory bowed down 
 before it, and were ready to accept its conse- 
 quences. From that day the Prince became a 
 power not to be ignored. From that day, too, 
 the Prince, in his innermost heart scorning — 
 though he succeeded in concealing this scorn — 
 the leaders of different political parties, and 
 also the upper classes of society, had but one 
 aim, that of winning the confidence of the 
 poor, of entering into the heart of labourer 
 and peasant, of gaining the sympathy of the 
 army which, in the decisive hour, was to se- 
 cure the victory. 
 
 Encouraged by his first success, he now be- 
 came bold. He resigned his deputyship on 
 
50 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 September 7, 1848, but was re-elected, not 
 only in Paris, but also in several of the de- 
 partments. This act was, on the part of the 
 Prince, a test of public sentiment. 
 
 Despite his dizzying onward march, how- 
 ever, despite even his election to the presi- 
 dency of the Republic, Prince Louis Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, nevertheless, remained a man mor- 
 ally isolated from his surroundings. It was 
 not until after December 2, 1851, that courtiers 
 and office-seekers gathered round him. They 
 then became very numerous, and the Emperor 
 forgot their former self-interested doubts and 
 their cowardice ; he, like another prince in 
 history, forgave, if not the injuries done him, 
 at least the selfish indifference of those who 
 had not at one time believed in him, but who 
 now so suddenly offered their most ardent 
 sympathy. 
 
 There is a curious incident relative to the 
 election of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. The 
 very day after the election, the Count de 
 Morny was recommended to the Prince as a 
 man whose royalist and liberal tendencies 
 would be of great value in the new political 
 regime. The Prince, however, looked dis- 
 pleased by the mention of his name, and 
 struck it resolutely from his list of friends. M. 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. $1 
 
 de Morny was not unknown to him, nor did 
 he doubt his ability, his energy, or the strong 
 support which he was capable of offering him ; 
 but he was vexed and embarrassed by the blood 
 relationship existing between himself and the 
 Count ; he could not forgive his brother's un- 
 seemly and too conspicuous crest, upon which 
 the branch of Hortense's house was subtly 
 but conspicuously suggested. An easy recon- 
 ciliation was, however, effected between these 
 two men, with the consequences of which we 
 are familiar. Despite the repugnance which, 
 before December 2, Prince, Louis Napoleon 
 Bonaparte had shown toward M. de Morny, he, 
 nevertheless, on becoming Emperor, granted 
 him every indulgence. 
 
 Though the Prince in his own heart attached 
 but little importance to the support of those in- 
 fluential personages who were leaders of various 
 political parties, though he had told his parti- 
 sans to depend wholly upon the people and 
 upon the army, he did not, on the other hand, 
 altogether despair of rallying about him a few 
 men of authority from other quarters. 
 
 The political agitation which he felt about 
 him at the Elysde led him to believe for a 
 moment that there was a response to his ap- 
 
52 NAPOLEON III 
 
 peals, that the people were flocking round him, 
 not from idle curiosity or with a courteously- 
 concealed indifference, but with the sincerity 
 of an higher purpose and the firm intention 
 of actively assisting in his labours. He was 
 soon brought to see the vanity of his hopes. 
 When finally convinced that nothing could 
 change the hypocritical hostility which pur- 
 sued him, and which was now but quieted as it 
 were, by a temporary truce, he resolved to act. 
 He made the appeal which is made by all 
 adventurers, all seducers. " He who loves," 
 he said, "must follow me ! " In the year 1851, 
 moreover, the parties became bolder, more 
 clamorous, and more formidable. Having be- 
 lieved that the duration of the Prince's presi- 
 dency would be brief, they were now tired of 
 awaiting its end ; they were troubled by its 
 evident vitality. The strength of the opposi- 
 tion was each day increasing, each day making 
 itself more manifest. The Prince, who at this 
 time had a quick perception and a ready mode 
 of action, wished to temporise no longer. He 
 assembled his friends, and with their aid put 
 at nought the projects of those who could not 
 hide the hatred with which he jnspired them. 
 
 The Coup d'fitat of December 2, 1851, has 
 occasioned many discussions to which I care to 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 53 
 
 add nothing, be it either of praise or blame. In 
 view, however, of the time which has elapsed 
 since this event, and despite the various judg- 
 ments which it has called forth, I do not hesi- 
 tate — bearing always in mind that genesis 
 which, in every century, is common to the 
 events which determine social evolution — to 
 ask that question which a thousand times 
 already has been asked : Was the Coup 
 d'fitat of December 2, 1851, a crime? 
 
 I do not lose sight of nor ignore the fact that 
 on December 2, 185 1, the laws of the country 
 were violated. What historic or social revolu- 
 tion has ever been accomplished along the lines 
 of law? In relation to politics, what is the 
 exact significance of the word crime ? 
 
 The Coup d'fitat is to be regretted inas- 
 much as it placed the destiny of a people in 
 the power of one man, and compelled it to pay 
 homage to a military force with but little intelli- 
 gence ; a force which, by a slavish submission 
 to an implacable power, accomplished its annihi- 
 lation. Viewing it, however, from a purely 
 human standpoint, when we examine the Coup 
 d'fitat philosophically, we cannot fail to see in 
 it all the characteristics of a revolution ; and a 
 revolution can be accomplished only by a logi- 
 cal and almost mathematical course of violence. 
 
54 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 The Second of December undoubtedly caused 
 liberty and progress to take a step backward. 
 It would, however, be childish to believe that, 
 even had it been inspired by the spirit of prog- 
 ress and liberty, it would have found a peaceful 
 development. It is with nations as with some 
 women, one can only hope to influence them 
 through violence. 
 
 There is a faith prevalent to-day in the advent 
 of a social era which shall be built upon justice 
 and an humanitarianism faithfully observed and 
 peacefully accepted by all men. I, together 
 with those who are distressed by the servitude 
 and the sufferings of certain classes, with those 
 who believe in a supreme and an universal pity, 
 have faith in this new era, and even believe that 
 we are nearer it than is generally supposed ; an 
 era when the world, liberated from its bonds and 
 from its oppressors, shall step forth into the 
 future free. Contrary, however, to the hopes of 
 certain eager and generous souls, of certain too 
 visionary minds, we may safely affirm that this 
 coming revolution will be accomplished no more 
 peaceably than the preceding ones have been, 
 that revengeful but fertile hatreds can alone 
 give birth to the relative happiness of humanity. 
 
 This theory is, I think, applicable to the 
 Coup d'fitat of December 2, 185 1, which was, 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 55 
 
 I repeat, a revolution which inaugurated a new 
 social era. This theory is, indeed, so true, it 
 expresses so justly the exact nature of things, 
 that when later Napoleon III. hoped to rebuild 
 his Empire by giving it free institutions, he 
 •failed absolutely in his efforts of reform. He 
 failed because in 1869 and 1870 politics did not 
 possess that impetus which is necessary to 
 social evolution, because he hesitated in the 
 practical application of his ideas, because he did 
 not dare to carry out his wishes. 
 
 The second of January, 1870, demanded the 
 same energy and force which had contributed 
 to the success of the second of December, 
 that energy and force which are the final 
 consecration of all earthly labours, which are 
 the necessary foundation of all building that 
 is to endure into the future. 
 
 Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had in 
 1 8 5 1 reduced to silence the liberal opposition ; 
 in 1870 the ministry, represented by M. fimile 
 Ollivier, should have crushed the dynastic op- 
 position, and thus have secured calm for its 
 deliberations, and means for successfully deter- 
 mining its line of action. It is true that the 
 very underlying principles of the government 
 would have been imperilled by such an act of 
 authority, but politics, like the more insignifi- 
 
56 . NAPOLEON III. 
 
 cant affairs of life, are controlled by an inexor- 
 able logic. It is in the course of this logic that 
 we can vaguely see new eras arise, whose storms 
 and calms must, however, remain unknown to 
 us. 
 
 There are two entirely distinct elements to be 
 studied in the political policy of Napoleon III. ; 
 one concerns affairs of the interior, the other 
 the attitude of the Tuileries toward foreign 
 nations. 
 
 Though the interior policy of Napoleon III. 
 was distinguished by absolutism, it cannot be 
 denied that, despite the intrigues going on 
 about him, despite the covetous spirit of his 
 ministers and their rivalries, so well described 
 by M. Roulland, this man knew admirably well 
 how to carry out his own wishes so long as his 
 personal control over the government lasted, 
 knew how to impose upon the country an ad- 
 ministration keenly attentive to the expression 
 of his wishes. The prefects, indeed, of the 
 Second Empire remain celebrated in the an- 
 nals of officialism, as do the women of this 
 period in the annals of love. The men of the 
 Second Empire administered laws and loved 
 their mistresses with an equal ardour ; the one 
 office was, indeed, often closely allied to the 
 other. The women who, regardless of their 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 57 
 
 social rank, filled so important a role in the 
 private life of Napoleon III., exerted also an 
 indisputable influence upon the course and des- 
 tiny of his government. 
 
 Every prefecture, no matter of how small 
 consequence, was like the court of the Tuile- 
 ries in miniature. The mistress of the house 
 held her salon ; and those women about her who 
 either for their beauty, their wit, or their fri- 
 volity were most remarkable, received frequent 
 summons to Paris on days of public festival. 
 The official and the private gates of the palace 
 were both open to them, and from these they 
 would issue with the envied prestige of personal 
 distinction. 
 
 M. Janvier de la Motte is a type of the pre- 
 fect of the Second Empire who has received, 
 and deservedly so, the most censure, but who 
 was, nevertheless, one of the most popular men 
 of his day. M. Janvier de la Motte acted un- 
 justly toward tax-payers, introduced into his 
 prefecture renowned members of the demi- 
 monde, and quarrelled with the magistrates. 
 In his rounds, however, he knew how to speak 
 to the people in their own language ; he went 
 into their cabins, inquired the condition of their 
 cows, asked the prices that their eggs and their 
 butter were bringing, was interested in the 
 
5 8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 health of their wives, and invariably compli- 
 mented their children ;■ while they, in return for 
 so much courtesy, judged the Emperor by the 
 suave manners of his representative, and at the 
 time of election voted for the official candidate. 
 
 All the prefects did not pursue a similar 
 course. There were some who, less familiar, 
 less ready to place themselves on grounds of 
 intimacy with the people, were more successful 
 in retaining their prestige. M. Janvier de la 
 Motte was, however, valued by all as a power 
 to manage the humble classes, and as a means 
 of procuring work from labourers in the cities. 
 It was thus in winning the constant sympathy 
 of the masses that the government of Napo- 
 leon III. maintained its apparent unity, and 
 could, with so little cause for discomfiture, 
 afford to neglect the occasional adversaries which 
 from time to time dared present themselves. 
 
 It is important to state here that, while the 
 prefects served Napoleon III. with zeal and in- 
 telligence, the ministers, on the other hand, who 
 followed each other in quick succession round 
 him, forgot the welfare of the dynasty, and 
 thought only of their own hopes and interests, 
 of their hatreds and their retaliations. The 
 majority, indeed, maintained this careless atti- 
 tude in the fulfilment of their duties — an at- 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A^ POLITICIAN. 59 
 
 titude which made it easy for others to usurp 
 the real power ; slaves to their own selfishness, 
 these ministers failed to see the abyss which 
 they were preparing under the very feet of their 
 sovereign. 
 
 The most pernicious among them was un- 
 doubtedly M. Rouher, who could do what he 
 chose with the Emperor, and direct his judg- 
 ment into any channel ; but he met with great 
 favour and encouragement from the Empress. 
 Napoleon III. had cause to regret having given 
 this counsellor the title of vice-emperor, and 
 had the public any sense of justice, it would 
 realise that this man — whom I shall consider 
 in a subsequent chapter — was responsible for 
 those disasters which form an epilogue to the 
 Second Empire far more than were the unfor- 
 tunate liberals of 1869 and 1870. 
 
 Despite many statements to the contrary, 
 the political, liberal, and social work of Napo- 
 leon III. was immense, and strongly resembles 
 the govermental theories of Prince Napoleon. 
 
 Imbued with the spirit of the Revolution, 
 and possessing a thorough respect for its prin- 
 ciples, the Emperor, though he repudiated all 
 parliamentarianism, was nothing of an autocrat ; 
 he consented, from the very beginning of his 
 
60 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 reign, that those prerogatives which by the 
 constitution were awarded him — i.e. right of 
 initiative, right to sign treaties of commerce, 
 right to declare war — should be modified by 
 an electoral body especially authorised to vote 
 upon taxes and laws. It may be objected that 
 the deputies of the Second Empire were firm 
 partisans of the Tuileries, and that official candi- 
 dacy insured a power against an apparent legis- 
 lative independence. Official candidacy gave 
 the Emperor, it is true, a certain support neces- 
 sary to him for the accomplishment of his 
 wishes; it would, however, be unjust to suppose 
 that Napoleon III. abused this privilege, and it 
 would be still more unjust to deny that he was 
 more than necessarily careful to establish be- 
 tween his power and the electoral corps an un- 
 derstanding based upon the purest liberalism. 
 This is shown by his sending to the Bourbon 
 Palace ministers authorised to discuss public 
 affairs, as well as in his acceptance of the min- 
 isterial responsibility, and in his choosing his 
 very ministers from members of Parliament, 
 without obliging those among them who were 
 elected to resign the commission which they 
 had received from the people. 
 
 The Emperor, with a wisdom which claims 
 recognition, was careful not to confide to the 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 6l 
 
 Senate the legal prerogative of recognising 
 danger threatening the State. A Senate com- 
 posed for the most part of men thirsting for 
 power, could hardly be an impartial judge in 
 political matters. The Emperor knew that the 
 public always invalidated, and with reason, a 
 sentence passed by an assembly of men whose 
 interest it was to flatter or to serve the govern- 
 ment of which they were the strongest supports, 
 a government which made favourites of them, 
 and paid them for their services. He, therefore, 
 in order to avoid criticism, as well as to give 
 greater authority to future verdicts, instituted a 
 Supreme Court composed of magistrates who 
 were counsellors in the Court of Appeals, and 
 also chose by lot several jurymen from among 
 the general counsellors of the departments. 
 
 Napoleon III., more honest and more cour- 
 ageous than his courtiers, who had an instinc- 
 tive horror of book and newspaper, re-established 
 the liberty of the press. Continuing still on 
 the path of reform, he proclaimed freedom to 
 hold public gatherings, facilitated co-operation, 
 and, in overthrowing the penal laws made be- 
 fore his time, freed labour from the authority 
 of labour unions. 
 
 The Emperor had truly at heart the welfare 
 of the poor. He decreed that when disagree- 
 
62 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ments arose between employer and employed, 
 the former should no longer be acquitted upon 
 his simple statement of the facts ; he therefore 
 insured, better than the Revolution had done, 
 the equality of all men before the law ; he con- 
 demned all jurisprudence tending to the repres- 
 sion of labour unions, he protected workingmen's 
 associations, commercial or civil ; he made laws 
 for the societies of mutual aid, and established 
 a superannuation fund. 
 
 Here, surely, one does not recognise the work 
 of a tyrant, of a man absorbed in his own in- 
 terests. If the reader will, after this brief ex- 
 position of a policy which has too often been 
 censured, call to mind the different character 
 sketches which I have given of Napoleon III., 
 he will, I think, acknowledge that I have not 
 yielded to a mere feeling of personal sympathy 
 in trying to set forth, as I have, the real char- 
 acter of this man in whom was an inexhaustible 
 spirit of true kindliness, or in endeavouring to 
 do him the justice due to the head of the 
 nation. 
 
 A separate volume would be necessary, were 
 I to discuss at length and to analyse the policy 
 pursued by the Emperor Napoleon III. My 
 design is but to sketch its general outline. 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 63 
 
 In exposing, a few pages back, the Empress 
 Eugenie's participation in affairs of state, and in 
 sketching the character of the political and of 
 the diplomatic world which surrounded Napoleon 
 III., I have developed certain of the stran- 
 gest and most important features, both of his 
 internal and of his international policy; and I 
 have based my account upon unpublished let- 
 ters of ministers and ambassadors who were 
 received at the Tuileries. It has been my 
 special purpose to show the attitude of the 
 court toward foreign nations and toward the 
 representatives of certain powers ; I have also 
 spoken of the Empress's infatuation with some 
 of these, and have emphasised the sad re- 
 proaches made her by the Emperor on this 
 score. 
 
 In the midst of adulation and of triumph, the 
 Emperor Napoleon III. could not fully forget 
 that lack of sympathy, that reserve and defiance, 
 which Europe had shown him at the time of his 
 succession or, more truly, after his Coup d'Etat ; 
 he could not completely ignore the hypocrisy 
 and the egoism of the foreign courts ; he would 
 have wished more dignity and more reserve 
 shown the diplomats accredited to Paris, that 
 they might find no pretext for familiarity. 
 Those round him, however, seldom paid any 
 
64 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 attention to his wishes. They were whirled in 
 a mad vortex of folly ; and the Emperor him- 
 self stood so close on the brink of this whirl- 
 pool, that, despite his sorrow and his efforts 
 to escape he was seized, and his course deter- 
 mined by it. 
 
 Did not the Emperor who, in his foreign 
 policy, pursued, as we know, a dream — the 
 dream of national unity — did he not see that 
 this policy, this inevitable vacillation, would 
 give a fatal blow to the governmental edifice, 
 that edifice which had been raised on the Second 
 of December by an arbitrary act of authority ? 
 To this fact he was undoubtedly blind, as he 
 made no effort to avert that great collapse 
 which threatened during the whole course of 
 his reign. Had he been less harassed by pri- 
 vate cares, had he been free from the disturbing 
 influence of an unintelligent and a self-seeking 
 court, he might, perhaps, have perceived more 
 clearly the symptoms of that evil which was to 
 overthrow his work ; he might then have better 
 directed his public policy. 
 
 The ideals which he had formed, and which, 
 in the present state of things, were far too 
 visionary, and whose realisation would have 
 been most dangerous, were, nevertheless, beau- 
 tiful ideals and worthy, though their develop- 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 65 
 
 ment was too rapid for the peace of France, to 
 be considered and pursued by the present gener- 
 ation. 
 
 The theory of national unity, which leads to 
 the violent but the real emancipation of the 
 classes, was in the mind of Napoleon III. the 
 same humanitarian and social problem which in 
 its logical and inevitable development to-day 
 occupies the strongest and the most imagina- 
 tive minds. 
 
 European diplomacy — particularly that of 
 Italy and of Prussia — availed itself of this 
 visionary scheme to conciliate the sovereign. 
 They deceived him with gracious and insin- 
 cere words. Let us, however, not fail to render 
 homage to the generous and the high-minded 
 sentiments of the man who, mastered by his 
 universal sympathy, allowed himself in the sim- 
 plicity of his heart to be misled. 
 
 Prussian diplomacy reaped its own benefits 
 from the dreams and Utopias of Napoleon III. 
 Less self-seeking than the Italian diplomacy, 
 however, it sought to reward the Emperor for 
 his graciousness and for the good-will which 
 he showed in all questions of international 
 policy, by offering him on several occasions the 
 strength of its alliance. He, however, was 
 averse to such alliances ; they seemed like a 
 
66 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 kind of co-operation in behalf of conquest ; and 
 the Emperor, who had not at all a warlike 
 nature, and who never fought except from ne- 
 cessity, or out of a certain feeling of sentiment, 
 rejected these offers. By a cruel and a singu- 
 lar fatality, it was through accusing him of war- 
 like tendencies, of pursuing the policy of a kind 
 of imperial ogre, that, at the final and the de- 
 cisive moment, the sympathies of Europe were 
 turned against him. 
 
 Prussia announced after the interview at 
 Biarritz, that, in the words of Count Bismarck, 
 "nothing could be done with the Emperor." 
 From that time it watched attentively for a 
 moment when it might play with Napoleon III. 
 as a cat plays with a mouse. Having assumed 
 a warlike policy, it now awaited an opportunity 
 to compromise the Tuileries. When Prince 
 Bismarck thought that the proper moment to 
 act had come, he shut himself up with M. Bene- 
 detti, our ambassador to Berlin, and dictated to 
 him the famous project by which Prussia en- 
 gaged, in exchange for a stated liberty of action, 
 to allow France to take possession of Belgium. 
 M. de Benedetti, at Prince Bismarck's cour- 
 teous request, committed into the hands of the 
 Prussian minister the compromising pages which 
 he had just written ; it was this scrap of paper, 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 6j 
 
 this lie so difficult to disprove, which- the cabi- 
 net at Berlin waved in the face of all Europe 
 when war broke out. 
 
 France cannot know the profound emotion 
 which this revelation caused in Belgium. The 
 feeling was intense, and turned this little nation 
 against ours, nor has a friendly spirit ever been 
 revived. It was evident to me, when in Brus- 
 sels a short time ago, that the hostile feeling 
 roused at that time was not in the smallest 
 measure appeased. Belgium believes, or, more 
 truly, chooses to believe, that France once 
 sought by an act of violence to annex it ; if, in- 
 deed, our neighbours, from an instinctive dread 
 of Germany, fear to rejoice too openly over our 
 disasters, they, nevertheless, consider our defeat 
 in its results as an escape for them from a great 
 danger which threatened. 
 
 It is natural to ask why, if Napoleon III. dis- 
 liked the very idea of war, he entered into it 
 with Russia ; why he undertook the Italian 
 campaign against Austria; why he organised 
 the expedition to Mexico ; and, finally, why he 
 so unfortunately entered into hostilities with 
 Germany. 
 
 The Emperor had a secret motive in his war 
 with Russia, a motive which he concealed under 
 the pretext of an international policy, and this 
 
68 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 was to form an alliance with England. Beside 
 this, Napoleon did not like Russia. Strangely 
 enough, he seemed to have forgotten the cruel 
 treatment which his uncle had suffered from 
 the English, whereas he felt a hatred toward 
 the Russians which cannot be intelligently ex- 
 plained by the ignominious and famous retreat 
 of the French army. He neglected no oppor- 
 tunity to express his antipathy to Russia ; yet, 
 notwithstanding the private letters which I have 
 published, and which prove that he loved Eng- 
 land no better or, at least, that he never for- 
 gave Waterloo or Saint Helena, he continually 
 affirmed, for state reasons which remain prob- 
 lematical, feelings of cordiality and of regard 
 for the latter. Beside the personal feelings of 
 animosity which we have sought to analyse, it 
 is important to add that Napoleon III. con- 
 sidered the commercial interests of the French 
 people to be more closely related to those of 
 England. This was undoubtedly the cause of 
 his determined advances to England, and of his 
 scornful indifference at this time to all other 
 European alliances. I do not say that the Em- 
 peror, socialist and humanitarian that he was, 
 had not against Russia, or rather against its 
 autocracy and its institution of serfdom, a, so 
 to speak, sentimental prejudice. If, however, 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 69 
 
 we accept this hypothesis, how can we account 
 for his indulgence toward England, with its false 
 liberalism, the cruel working of its laws, and 
 the condition of subjection in which it keeps 
 its colonies ? 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon III. is a sphinx, an 
 unanswered riddle ; he will remain to history 
 the living synthesis of a subtle philosophy. 
 
 We cannot too strongly emphasise the fact 
 that, in the mind of Napoleon III., the war with 
 Austria was the fulfilment of a promise. Bound 
 by previous agreement to the liberal party in 
 much-divided Italy, he wished to free himself 
 from former pledges by giving that nation, once 
 for all, an active evidence of his sanction. The 
 thought of releasing Italy from the Austrian 
 yoke, the thought of becoming the high priest 
 of its independence and of its unification, 
 seemed a faint realisation of his ideal. Thus the 
 war was undertaken more for the satisfaction 
 of a desire long cherished, but never, as yet, 
 practically applied, than for the sake of faith- 
 fully fulfilling a vow. Did he also think of an 
 alliance which, at some future day, should be 
 useful to him, and prove an ample recompense 
 for his kindly efforts in Italy's behalf, the am- 
 ple recompense for a campaign which promised 
 no practical results ? It may be that he did ; 
 
JO NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 just as he dreamed of a confederation of the 
 Latin races, a confederation which should be so 
 strong in its feeling of unity, and so built upon 
 mutual interests and sympathies, that at the crit- 
 ical moment it might checkmate that confedera- 
 tion of northern nations whose voice was already 
 heard in imperious appeals and loud claims. 
 
 The letters of Prince Metternich have thrown 
 light upon the Mexican expedition ; they repre- 
 sent it as the realisation of a beautiful romance, 
 of a charming fairy tale, and also as the Em- 
 press Eugenie's revenge against Italy in the 
 interest of Austria. This campaign was, in- 
 deed, instigated by the Empress through the 
 urgency of her friend, Mme. de Metternich. 
 It was a long time before they consulted the 
 Emperor at all concerning the plans which they 
 were making ; and when, at last, the Empress 
 decided to reveal their scheme, after having 
 already involved Napoleon, after having used 
 his name on her own authority, it was too 
 late for him to withdraw the promise which he 
 was reported to have given, without occasioning 
 scandal in the court, and provoking displeasure 
 which would have brought with it serious con- 
 sequences. 
 
 It was not, however, without remonstrance 
 that Napoleon III. allowed himself to be dragged 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 7 1 
 
 into this enterprise, of whose absolute futility 
 he was even then convinced. There were long, 
 painful, and violent conferences on the subject 
 between him and the Empress ; it was, so I 
 have been told, after a most impassioned scene, 
 that the Emperor, abandoning any further dis- 
 cussion, resigned himself to destiny. 
 
 " Why should I," Napoleon asked his wife, 
 " why should I go to war with Mexico ? Why, 
 under the pretext of recovering a trifling debt, 
 should I pick a quarrel and involve my country 
 and my soldiers in an inglorious and a profitless 
 enterprise ? My name is trafficked with, in- 
 trigues are formed around me, and you are the 
 willing accomplice of these penny-newspaper 
 sensationalists and sharpers." 
 
 The day after this scene, M. de Morny, whom 
 the Empress informed of the Emperor's remon- 
 strances, and of the danger menacing the " Cali- 
 fornian dream," went to Napoleon and restored 
 in some degree his peace of mind, compelling 
 his agreement, and extracting from him the 
 promise to offer no further opposition to the 
 expedition. 
 
 M. de Morny had a colossal fortune to gain 
 in this Mexican enterprise ; and the fortune was 
 worth an argument to him, as was Paris worth 
 a mass to King Henry. He argued, and his 
 
72 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 eloquence overcame the Emperor's objections. 
 Indeed, preparations were so far commenced in 
 Paris and in Vienna that it would, I repeat, 
 have been impossible to retract at this late 
 hour without occasioning most unfortunate 
 complications. 
 
 This rapid analysis of events, with whose 
 realisation and results we are familiar — events 
 which official documents, destined to remain 
 long ignored, will eventually explain and pass 
 a fairer judgment upon — this analysis, I say, 
 shows that, incontrovertibly, the power and 
 the caprice of this man, supreme in authority, 
 will hold awful surprises for the future, and 
 perhaps involve the safety of nations. The 
 Emperor Napoleon III. possessed both power 
 and will, but he unfortunately confided in the 
 Empress ; and as a man may, according to the 
 feeling of the moment, love or betray his mis- 
 tress, so he, despite his many admirable quali- 
 ties, yielded to present impulse and to that 
 instinctive egoism which rules all men, citizen 
 and prince alike, in the affairs of life. 
 
 The famous words, L'Etat, cest moi, have 
 perhaps their excuse, their logic, even their 
 grandeur, though they are the expression of an 
 abominable despotism, when spoken to a society 
 not yet established, and which is still a mys- 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 73 
 
 tery to itself. They are shocking, even crimi- 
 nal, when uttered in a community of free men 
 conscious of their strength, their vitality, and 
 their intelligence, moved by the consciousness 
 of a common duty to be fulfilled, inspired by 
 the noble doctrine of universal sympathy, and 
 borne irresistibly on toward a long-promised 
 Elysium, toward a destiny irrevocably deter- 
 mined. 
 
 Having briefly recapitulated the warlike en- 
 terprises of the Second Empire, it would seem 
 natural to complete this page of history by re- 
 lating those incidents, unknown to the public, 
 whose results were to render inevitable the 
 Franco-Prussian war of 1870. This would 
 seem also an appropriate place to speak of the 
 events which are connected with this cam- 
 paign, and to analyse their strange genesis. 
 In this chapter, however, which is especially 
 devoted to the personal study of the Em- 
 peror, I will say nothing of the war of 1870. 
 Before treating, as I shall do in another 
 chapter, the problem so intimately connected 
 with this war, I pray that the reader will 
 permit me to complete my sketch of Napo- 
 leon III. 
 
 I have already told an amusing anecdote 
 
74 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 showing the religious feeling of the Emperor ; 
 and I have said that, in pursuing the favourable 
 policy which he did toward the Papacy, and in 
 showing so much concern for the French clergy, 
 he but yielded to the entreaties of the Empress. 
 I repeat that the Emperor was not at heart 
 religious, and was not, in reality, cordial in 
 his feeling toward the priesthood. He feared 
 the influence of the Church upon the State ; 
 and as the clergy, for its part, did not hesitate 
 to show constant hostility to the sovereign and 
 to his government, he would only too gladly 
 have welcomed an opportunity to check the 
 authority which these adversaries constantly 
 assumed, emboldened as they were by the ap- 
 probation of the Empress. 
 
 The bishops knew well the attitude of the 
 young Empress toward ecclesiastical affairs, 
 and stood in little fear of the Emperor. En- 
 couraged by the concessions made them, and 
 becoming day by day more confident of the 
 inviolability of their position, they grew more 
 and more arrogant, more and more exacting, and 
 more difficult to please. 
 
 The position occupied by the clergy under 
 the Second Empire is peculiar. Notwithstand- 
 ing the support which Napoleon III. gave the 
 Papacy, to the detriment even of French inter- 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 75 
 
 ests, notwithstanding the indulgence which dur- 
 ing the whole course of his reign he showed 
 the bishops and the factious priests, the clergy 
 never for a moment recovered from the antip- 
 athy with which from the very first they had 
 regarded him ; the idea of showing any real 
 gratitude for his generosity never occurred to 
 them. It was a dangerous generosity, and cost 
 us more than one disaster, making at last be- 
 tween Italy and ourselves an impassable gulf. 
 
 The majority of the bishops were very velvet- 
 pawed with the Emperor when they presented 
 themselves in Paris, or when they received him 
 in their cathedrals ; but they opposed him ener- 
 getically, spitefully, and slyly at other times, 
 and never for a moment ceased the opposition 
 which they had taken up against him. 
 
 Some among them, as, for instance, Mgrs. 
 Pie and Dupanloup, did not hesitate to pro- 
 voke open revolt against the imperial power, 
 and from this continual conflict arose a national 
 anarchy which should have been vigorously 
 repressed. As soon, however, as Napoleon 
 III. spoke of reproving and bringing to terms 
 some arrogant prelate, the Empress, who had 
 emissaries and spies of the orthodox religion 
 scattered everywhere, was informed of the in- 
 tention ; and then there were reproaches, tears, 
 
J 6 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 and menaces in the Tuileries — expressions of 
 the wild rebellion of a woman whose caprice 
 and whose superstition had been violated. 
 
 The Empress had never truly at heart the 
 welfare of the imperial dynasty, the future of 
 her husband, or the interests of France. She 
 was autocratic, dangerous, and mischief -making ; 
 she followed her personal wishes, regardless of 
 their non-conformity to the demands of the na- 
 tion and to the security of governmental insti- 
 tutions. She made marriages and she created 
 bishops, nor was her judgment always the 
 wisest. Among the prelates whom she thus, 
 despite the instinctive repugnance of the Em- 
 peror, inflicted on the Tuileries, M. Bauer 
 should be mentioned — that strange man who 
 came to her from Queen Isabella of Spain, and 
 whom she appointed moralist of the court and 
 worthy hireling of her chapel, bestowing upon 
 him the honourable title of Monsignor, that 
 authoritative passe-partout in the world. 
 
 M. Bauer was indeed a strange man. A 
 baptised, if not a converted, Jew, he had trav- 
 elled and preached all over Europe, as he was 
 afterwards destined to preach in the elegant 
 court of the Tuileries ; suddenly he appeared 
 in Paris under the patronage of Queen Isabella, 
 who presented him to the Empress. This abb6, 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. JJ 
 
 whose popularity was so great and so sudden, 
 was unique in his profession ; it is said that, 
 before assuming the priest's garb, he had tried 
 every occupation — had been a painter, a com- 
 mercial traveller, a photographer, and a monk. 
 The mystery attached to his person did not at 
 all displease the Empress, who had a strong 
 taste for romance ; and, willing or not, this prel- 
 ate found himself established at court, where 
 for a time he occupied the position of favourite. 
 He arrived in Paris in 1866; and three years 
 later, at the time of the opening of the Suez 
 canal, the young Empress took him with her 
 on the first solemn day of the festivals, that he 
 might bless the sea. He, like so many others, 
 was lost to view in the war of 1870. It is said 
 that after the storm had ceased he wished to 
 continue his sacerdotal, functions and to occupy 
 some pulpit in Paris ; but the archbishop for- 
 bade his continuing in the ministry, and he 
 disappeared, or rather withdrew, from the re- 
 ligious world. He consoled himself by a regu- 
 lar attendance at the opera ; he resumed his 
 civilian's dress, and was an assiduous visitor at 
 the dancing-hall. 
 
 There were, however, priests who were not 
 interlopers among those who mingled with the 
 courtiers of the Tuileries. Royalty received 
 
78 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 eminent men of the Church whose sincere affec- 
 tion for the imperial family cannot be doubted. 
 Such was the Bishop of Nancy, of whose ex- 
 perience with the Emperor I have already 
 spoken ; such, also, was Mgr. Donnet, of Bor- 
 deaux, a thoroughly intelligent prelate who was 
 more than once received at the palace. There 
 is an amusing story told of him also. 
 
 Cardinal Donnet, so the story runs, having 
 on one occasion been delayed quite late at the 
 Tuileries, rose to leave when some women at- 
 tired in low dresses for the evening entered ; 
 Napoleon, however, insisted on detaining him. 
 Having exhausted all his arguments in vain, the 
 cardinal pointed to the group of women which 
 surrounded the Empress. 
 
 "Does not your Majesty see," he asked, 
 "that I am put out by the shoulders?" 
 
 Napoleon smiled. 
 
 " Pardon, your Eminence," he replied, " you 
 should rather feel that you have a warm place 
 in our bosoms!' 
 
 The cardinal, amused by the unexpected and 
 somewhat irreverent pleasantry, forgot his exces- 
 sive austerity and willingly remained a few 
 moments longer. Such affability between the 
 Emperor and the clergy was, however, unusual. 
 There existed between Napoleon III. and the 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 79 
 
 bishops a lack of sympathy which no circum- 
 stances served to lessen. 
 
 Pius IX. never forgave Napoleon III. for 
 refusing to support, in open warfare, his ponti- 
 ficial claims upon Romagna, which had been 
 separated from the Papal States ; and he im- 
 bued the French clergy with a spirit of revolt 
 and of opposition that found daily expression, 
 and which rendered all friendly intercourse im- 
 possible. 
 
 This opposition was felt most strongly at 
 the time of legislative elections. It was not 
 unusual then to see priests of the most humble 
 parishes take part, through the instigation of 
 bishops, in the political campaign, and uphold 
 the liberal who was opposing the official candi- 
 date. In the departments nearest Paris, where 
 opposition always gains a strong hold, where the 
 people are ever ready to support the enemies 
 of all government, this attitude of the clergy 
 was more marked and became more aggressive. 
 
 A sort of fatality, a sort of false pride, caused 
 the Emperor to hesitate at the thought of an 
 open rupture with the Papacy. Made bitter 
 and indignant by the ingratitude of the Court 
 of Rome and of the clergy, he more than once 
 conceived the idea of freeing himself from the 
 religious tutelage which was so burdensome 
 
80 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 to him. He always wavered, however, at the 
 final moment ; and when, as a reproof to Rome 
 and the bishops, he determined to support the 
 movement which was then agitating France in 
 favor of the Gallican Church, a movement led 
 by Mgr. Darboy, he only succeeded in rousing, 
 as was his wont, fierce hatred and bitter resent- 
 ment against himself. 
 
 The Emperor was too often the dupe of 
 his own generosity, of his own good humour. 
 Statesman that he was, however, he should 
 have known that no power could compel the 
 obedience of the clergy unless administered 
 with bold and pitiless authority. A statesman 
 should have realised that no power could hope 
 to conquer the resistance of the Church to the 
 institutions of modern society. 
 
 It required twenty years of opposition and 
 warfare, during which time the civil power was 
 continually in arms, to repulse the demands of 
 the Church, and to overcome the opposition 
 of the clergy to the established government. 
 To quiet that anarchy which hastened the fall 
 of the Second Empire, a pope was needed who 
 should also be a strong politician, and who 
 should command his bishops to accept repub- 
 lican laws. We should not accord the clergy 
 more credit than is its due in this submission. 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 8 1 
 
 The treaty which it signed, and which was, 
 indeed, forced upon it, is only nominal, and 
 through it one hears to-day the mutterings of 
 anger and of threatened revenge. 
 
 One of the most curious pages in the history 
 of the Second Empire is certainly that which 
 concerns the titles of the nobility. Like his 
 uncle, Napoleon III. attempted the dissolution 
 of the ancient aristocracy, and sought to sur- 
 round himself with newly created dukes and 
 barons, hoping to win from them gratitude on 
 account of this social advancement. 
 
 The Emperor, indeed, to speak truthfully, 
 with his eccentricities and his unacknowledged 
 socialism, attached but a relative importance to 
 the nobility, and was not pursued, as was his 
 uncle, by the wish to give to this social caste 
 the prestige, if not the privileges, necessary to 
 it, if it is to retain its power and win the respect 
 of the masses. He looked upon the nobility as 
 a decorative institution, as a useful stimulus to 
 his government, and as a power which should 
 add a certain dignity to his own office. For 
 these reasons he re-established the law which 
 maintained an aristocracy in the Empire ; for 
 this reason he instructed his Keeper of the 
 Seals to draw up a paper designed for the 
 pacification of the rebellious nobility of birth, 
 
82 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 in which were explained the revision of titles, 
 their authenticity, and the regulations of judicial 
 proceedings which should be exercised against 
 those who might take a name or a title not be- 
 longing to them. Before he definitely deter- 
 mined upon this resolution, Napoleon III. 
 wished to consult the most prominent men 
 in the Empire ; many most interesting facts 
 have been furnished me in regard to this 
 affair. 
 
 The sovereign summoned MM. Rouher, de 
 Morny, de Persigny, and Count W., • — who is 
 the author of the information to which I this 
 moment referred, — and having explained to 
 them his project, awaited, as was his wont, 
 their comment in the councils. There then 
 arose a characteristic discussion among the 
 four men. 
 
 M. Rouher, who had not yet become vice- 
 emperor, that fierce mountaineer and convert 
 from democracy, tossed his head and only replied 
 in monosyllables, and in thoroughly non-com- 
 mittal words to the Emperor's questions. 
 
 M. Rouher, in consequence of his descent, 
 cared little for the nobility. In his respect for 
 authority, however, he did not altogether scorn 
 the institution ; and while, personally, he took 
 little account of its existence, he acknowledged 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 83 
 
 it a necessary part of governmental machinery, 
 and a strong check upon the people in their 
 efforts toward freedom. Actuated by such 
 principles, he expressed his feeling : -- 
 
 "I believe," said he, "that the nobility has 
 had its day ; that modern society will act fool- 
 ishly in looking to it for strength in the fu- 
 ture ; I believe that the State can no longer 
 find support in any privileged caste ; that its 
 one support must be a principle of universal 
 equality, and that the world must belong to 
 the man who does most to make it. I also 
 believe, however, that the people need con- 
 stantly to see a light above them, a shining 
 something which they cannot reach. The 
 populace has little reverence, and its absolute 
 submission to authority is necessary to its 
 effacement ; it must not be brought near to 
 power. In creating a nobility loyal to the Em- 
 pire, that is to say, in creating a new social 
 caste, one which will form a closer link between 
 the people and the governing power than does 
 the official class to-day, and which will be more 
 able than it to prevent any dangerous contact 
 between the classes, a peaceable and a neutral 
 spirit toward political affairs will be insured in 
 the masses ; governmental prestige will be aug- 
 mented thereby and the threats of the rabble 
 
84 NAPOLEON lit. 
 
 checked. For these reasons the Emperor's 
 project is excellent." 
 
 M. de Morny said little ; he had already been 
 converted to Napoleon's theory, and he con- 
 tented himself now with a few witty remarks 
 in which was once more displayed his elegant 
 scepticism. 
 
 " To be noble," said he, adapting to his own 
 purpose the celebrated words of a woman of 
 rather loose morals, " to be noble is little trou- 
 ble and much pleasure. So create your aris- 
 tocracy. Those whom we shall adorn with 
 plumes will be neither more nor less stupid 
 now than when they were plebeians ; and if 
 among them there are some clever enough to 
 wear their titles with dignity, all the better, 
 we shall gain just so much from the rabble. 
 The nobility is not absolutely necessary to the 
 Empire ; France has already that of the Fau- 
 bourg Saint-Germain, which is constantly fight- 
 ing it, but with which it may on occasions grace 
 itself. . . . Many nobles to-day," he added, 
 after a pause, "are, alas, so poor that one can 
 hardly distinguish their nobility through the 
 cloak of their poverty. If we create nobles, 
 let us be sure that those whom we thus honour 
 shall have, beyond all things, a field of gold as 
 the base of their armorial bearings." 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 85 
 
 M. de Persigny had seemed very impatient 
 while MM. Rouher and Morny were speaking. 
 When his turn came, therefore, he expressed 
 himself with great spirit. M. de Persigny, like 
 M. Rouher, was an autocrat, but a more upright 
 and a more generous-hearted one than he ; the 
 thought of resorting to these expedients to 
 quiet the people was repugnant to him. He 
 was a man who played his hand openly, who 
 in a duel bared his breast to the enemy ; if, 
 despite the humanitarian dreams which haunted 
 him, he was willing to see the people crushed, 
 he would wish it done in open warfare, without 
 hypocrisy, without ambush. Though he felt 
 that the populace must be kept in its own 
 place, he had no wish to humiliate it ; he de- 
 sired, on the contrary, to see it happy, and 
 perhaps organised into a social body whose 
 needs should be met and whose existence in- 
 sured. The theories of M. Rouher, therefore, 
 which put a sort of halo round the abasement 
 of the people, he found most displeasing, and 
 M. Morny's scepticism irritated him. Himself 
 a parvenu, he had always remained simple- 
 hearted and unpretending; a nobility, that is 
 to say, a class, placed by an official stamp, 
 and a little pageantry, on a higher level than 
 the rest of humanity, could hardly expect much 
 mercy from him. 
 
86 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 M. de Persigny is well known as a violent 
 speaker ; he put great force into his language, 
 and his reply to MM. Rouher and Mofny was 
 vehement. 
 
 " The nobility," he cried, " is a ridiculous in- 
 stitution, and has never been of use to the 
 governmental power. It has burdened the 
 nation with its conceit and its folly, and has 
 done it no good. The Empire has nothing 
 to gain by the creation of dukes and barons, 
 in the exhibition of asses carrying relics. You 
 think as I do, Rouher, and you are not hon- 
 est, you are but flattering the Emperor when 
 you say that the nobility will add a prestige 
 to his authority. As for Morny's little speech, 
 that is not worth considering. Morny talks the 
 same nonsense to us as to the women ; he is 
 a dandy and loves to pose. Frippery and hum- 
 bug do not take the place of ideas ; they may 
 succeed with women, but they will not do in 
 politics. I discard your noblesse, ancient or 
 modern, and you will be wise to follow my 
 example ; for, if that is your only defence, I 
 will give little for your lives on the day when 
 the populace begins to fight and you have need 
 to buckle your armour on. . . . Look higher," 
 he added, with a quick gesture. "We are 
 paid for that. Unite the people ; establish 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 87 
 
 them in peace under the intelligent guidance 
 of authoritative leaders, and resign to others 
 foolish and sneaking methods." 
 
 M. Rouher had remained calm and attentive 
 during this harangue, while M. Morny had ner- 
 vously stroked his chin. The Emperor, an- 
 noyed by the opposition offered his project, 
 and himself still fully convinced of its wis- 
 dom, interposed and again established peace 
 among his councillors. 
 
 "We are talking to no purpose," he said 
 quietly, "and I think you have hardly under- 
 stood my meaning. I do not wish, in creating 
 a nobility as my uncle did, to put a barrier 
 between myself and the people, or to deprive 
 them of their rights. My object is but to 
 honour and recompense, by this means, those 
 who have served me." 
 
 " For that, sire," replied M. de Persigny, 
 "for that the nobility is not at all neces- 
 sary." 
 
 "Ah, Persigny," said the Emperor, "be rea- 
 sonable and a little less obstinate ; at heart you 
 are not so bad, after all ! " 
 
 The awful councillor smiled ; no one under- 
 stood the sovereign better than he, and he 
 knew now that no argument would change his 
 determination. Like a dog, therefore, obedient 
 
88 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 to the voice which rebukes it, he became hum- 
 ble, almost sad, and said nothing more. 
 
 Count W , having no motive for oppos- 
 ing the Emperor, and perhaps finding this con- 
 versation rather futile, approved the project 
 without reservation. 
 
 It was thus that the formation of a new no- 
 bility was decided upon ; it was another act by 
 which the Second Empire became a feeble imi- 
 tation of that of Napoleon I. 
 
 Destiny, too, has its caprices. Of the four 
 men who on this occasion surrounded Napoleon 
 III., M. Rouher alone remained a plebeian ; but 
 he was the most powerful among them. 
 
 In his political policy Napoleon III. was con- 
 tinually led by visionary hopes ; continually 
 under the influence of an illusion, of a mirage ; 
 continually in pursuit of a goal to which he 
 could not attain. Himself a fatalist, his days 
 hung in the balance of fate. He conceived an 
 idea, and then, like a man who, speaking a for- 
 eign language, cannot find the right word to ex- 
 press his thought, Napoleon III. searched in vain 
 for means by which to put his idea in execution. 
 He was kind, yet he drew forth tears ; he loved 
 the people, but he involved them in trouble. In 
 fairy-tales one reads of will-o'-the-wisps leading 
 
THE EMPEROR AS A POLITICIAN. 89 
 
 travellers astray, and bringing them to the 
 verge of great abysses. A will-o'-the-wisp flew 
 before Napoleon III., who watched and followed 
 it with all the simple-hearted faith of a child. 
 A dreamer and a mystic, he was the victim of 
 dreams and mysticism ; he pursued them fatu- 
 itously, as though predestined to do so. If 
 some day the character of Napoleon III. shall 
 inspire a drama, he will be represented as a 
 wandering shadow never at rest — a figure pass- 
 ing through life enveloped in mystery, or, per- 
 haps, as a condemned being. 
 
90 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 III. 
 
 PRINCE NAPOLEON. 
 
 It is well known that Prince Napoleon, son 
 of Jerome Bonaparte, at one time King of 
 Westphalia, and first cousin of Louis Bona- 
 parte, President of the French Republic, was 
 violently opposed to the Coup d'Etat of De- 
 cember Second ; it is known, too, that his 
 political independence very nearly occasioned 
 a serious rupture between him and the man 
 who afterwards became Napoleon III. After 
 the Prince had openly declared his liberal 
 views, a certain coldness arose between the 
 two cousins and kept them apart. This cold- 
 ness, however, was not destined to last ; when 
 Prince Louis Napoleon became Emperor, he 
 summoned his cousin and offered him, if not 
 his full confidence, at least a strong affection. 
 These men had henceforth a true attachment 
 for each other ; and despite all that was said to 
 make the Prince appear ridiculous and odious 
 in the eyes of the Emperor, despite even the 
 unconcealed hostility of the Empress toward 
 
PRINCE N/tPOLEON. 91 
 
 him, Napoleon III. gave his cousin continual 
 evidence of esteem, and ever expressed for him 
 sentiments of profound friendship. 
 
 State reasons sometimes compelled him to 
 disavow or to blame publicly the utterances or 
 the acts of the Prince ; in private, however, he 
 atoned for this severity, and drove from his 
 cousin's memory expressions of an authority 
 which might have wounded him, and whose 
 tendency would have been — so irrascible and 
 combative was his temperament — to drive 
 him to a more active opposition, which opposi- 
 tion was, however, on his side less a rivalry than 
 a political dandyism. One anecdote will serve 
 to illustrate the cordiality which existed between 
 the Emperor and his cousin, and will prove that 
 their public dissensions were superficial. 
 
 One evening Prince Napoleon was at the 
 Tuileries ; and having that day given expression 
 to certain seditious sentiments, which had 
 forthwith been repeated to the Emperor, he 
 was taken aside by his cousin and reproved. 
 
 " I hear, Napoleon," said the Emperor, " that 
 you have been at your old tricks again today." 
 
 " Have I really been as revolutionary," the 
 Prince rejoined, laughing, " as I am reported to 
 have been ? " 
 
 " Revolutionary," muttered the Emperor, " is 
 
92 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a word which may signify anything or nothing. 
 No, you have not been revolutionary, you have 
 been imprudent. I have in you," he added, 
 after a pause, " a terrible cousin, Napoleon. 
 You make me a great deal of trouble — a great 
 deal. My ministers are displeased by my con- 
 duct toward you. In reality you and I agree 
 about many things, but I cannot let them know 
 that. Ah, Napoleon, you have a great advan- 
 tage over me, inasmuch as you may express 
 your thoughts without fearing to shock the 
 world." 
 
 Prince Napoleon had indeed this privilege 
 which was denied the Emperor ; he could, on 
 occasion, though without official sanction, sow 
 seeds of freedom among the people. It was 
 true, too, that the Emperor's secret feelings 
 were often closely allied to those of the prince. 
 
 Prince Napoleon was not blind to his cousin's 
 innate kindness of heart, nor to his rare intel- 
 lectual qualities. He frequently discussed with 
 the Emperor schemes which the latter, unknown 
 to his ministers, took pleasure in elaborating, 
 and which, had he been more resolute, or, let 
 us say, tyrannical, he might have put into exe- 
 cution. If, therefore, there was always a cer- 
 tain restraint between the Emperor and his 
 cousin, this restraint was but the result of the 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 93 
 
 scornful attitude of both courtier and minis- 
 ter toward the Prince, and of the Empress's 
 avowed enmity for him. 
 
 I have already spoken of the Empress Eu- 
 genie's strong dislike of the Prince ; and since 
 the publication of the pages in which I empha- 
 sized this animosity, partial and self-interested 
 writers have sought to disprove my assertions, 
 and to show us a Prince Napoleon and an Em- 
 press Eugenie traversing the imperial reign as 
 enemies, it is true, but representing the Prince 
 as the instigator of all the trouble, and the Em- 
 press as a persecuted woman. To accept such 
 a revised version of facts, and to credit for a 
 moment this perversion of history, must require 
 a truly credulous spirit. 
 
 Though the character of the Empress in- 
 spired Prince Napoleon with a kind of antipa- 
 thy, with anger at times, and again with pity, 
 he would doubtless have preferred, under the 
 force of existing circumstances, to have culti- 
 vated a sort of intimacy with her ; and though 
 a feeling of friendship were out of the question, 
 he might at least have borne with her in patient 
 indifference. Such a course would have been 
 possible had the Empress shown him any sign of 
 friendship, or even of a negative regard, but 
 became hopeless, since in her heart there was no 
 
94 NAPOLEON III 
 
 sentiment which could call forth the slighest 
 cordiality from her cousin. 
 
 The Empress was not ignorant of the fact 
 that, at the time of her engagement to the 
 Emperor, the Prince was one of Napoleon's 
 counsellors most vehemently opposed to the 
 marriage ; the memory of his opposition and 
 his scorn at that time prevented any feeling 
 of friendliness now. 
 
 At the news of the Emperor's violent passion 
 for Mile, de Montijo, not only did the old King 
 Jerome violently remonstrate with the Sover- 
 eign, but Prince Napoleon hurried to him in 
 the hope of successfully representing the folly 
 and the danger of such an alliance. 
 
 The Prince knew Mme. de Montijo and her 
 daughter, and considered them aristocratic ad- 
 venturers ; it seemed to him that the Emperor 
 must realise how he was demeaning himself in 
 marrying a watering-place belle. Though the 
 Prince, when a personal matter was under con- 
 sideration, committed so many political impru- 
 dences, he had, nevertheless, a pretty clear 
 judgment ; more than once during his cousin's 
 reign he pointed out the evils from which the 
 Empire was suffering and suggested their 
 remedy. 
 
 At the time of the Emperor's engagement, 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 95 
 
 inspired by a kind of presentiment, he felt the 
 danger threatening, and expressed himself freely 
 to Napoleon. He called upon him, and in the 
 strength and the sincerity of his convictions, and 
 the despair with which he was filled by the 
 thought of the contemplated union, he ad- 
 dressed him in the second person, contrary to 
 the custom which, since his cousin's accession, 
 he had adopted. 
 
 " You cannot," said he, " think seriously of 
 marrying Mile, de Montijo. She is, I know, a 
 beautiful woman, capable of inspiring a violent 
 passion. Love her, if you will, but do not 
 marry her, do not make her Empress. What 
 will the nation say ? What will all Europe 
 say ? Your own unhappiness and that of 
 France will result from this union. I implore 
 you to break the engagement. You are fasci- 
 nated by Mile, de Montijo. That is natural, for 
 she is a creature to charm a king. Make her 
 your mistress, pay dearly as you will for this 
 folly, but let the romance end here." 
 
 The Emperor took no more notice of his 
 cousin's warning than he did of that of his 
 many friends, who also saw in his marriage 
 with Mile, de Montijo an act which must occa- 
 sion both domestic sorrow to the Emperor, and 
 political trouble to the state. He smiled at 
 
g6 N/iPOLEON III. 
 
 the Prince's remonstrances as he had done at 
 those of others. Touched by the magic wand 
 of a fairy, of a wicked fairy who brought bad 
 luck to all whom she visited, he yielded to its 
 enchantment, and was both incapable and un- 
 willing to escape. 
 
 Mile, de Montijo, having become Empress, 
 had not sufficient nobility of character to forget 
 the Prince's former opposition, and she enter- 
 tained for him an hatred which neither the fall 
 of the Empire, nor exile, nor even the death of 
 her husband and child, served to appease. 
 
 Though this hatred had a fatal influence upon 
 the future of the imperial dynasty ; though we 
 feel it to lie at the root of many disasters in the 
 reign of Napoleon III. ; though it drew wrath 
 upon his coffin, and lied concerning the misera- 
 ble and mutilated remains of the Prince Im- 
 perial, can we, I ask, even in the face of all 
 this, blame her too mercilessly for the feeling ? 
 Is it just to blame Mile, de Montijo for becom- 
 ing Empress of France, for having been beauti- 
 ful, for having known how to master men's 
 hearts, and also how, under the enchantment of 
 her smiles — which were like those beautiful 
 flowers in which is hidden a subtle and deadly 
 poison — to watch unmoved the failure of their 
 joys and their hopes ? 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. ~ 97 
 
 That fictitious story whose truth some have 
 sought to establish, and which claims that 
 Prince Napoleon persecuted the Empress, is 
 based upon several assertions which it is ne- 
 cessary to mention here and to disprove. 
 
 Prince Napoleon, this story says, hoped that 
 the Emperor would never marry, and that his 
 own inheritance, there being no direct heir, 
 would be thus assured. This secret hope 
 blasted, he vowed fierce resentment against the 
 Empress. One evening, it is further said, at 
 a dinner given in honour of the Empress at 
 Compiegne, he gave way in public to a sudden 
 manifestation of this resentment, and when 
 Napoleon III. asked him to offer the first toast 
 to her, he bluntly refused to do so. 
 
 No statements could be more false than 
 these. When Prince Napoleon opposed the 
 Emperor's marriage with Mile, de Montijo, it 
 was purely with the feeling that an affair of 
 sentiment like this attachment should take into 
 consideration the social rank of the woman 
 who inspired it, and find some other conclusion 
 than that of an official marriage. He urged 
 that the Emperor of the French could make 
 many alliances in Europe, even in France, more 
 worthy than that with a woman whose reputa- 
 tion was somewhat compromised, whose beauty 
 
98 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 had been paraded on every side, and had ren- 
 dered her a too notorious character. 
 
 That the anecdote concerning the toast is 
 purely fictitious, is proved by a letter which I 
 have received upon this subject from one of the 
 most influential and most respected members of 
 the Court of the Tuileries. This same letter 
 denies the assertion that the Prince had soli- 
 cited for himself the hand of Mile, de Montijo. 
 
 " It is not true," writes the authority whom I quote, 
 " it is not true that Prince Napoleon ever declined to 
 drink the health of the Empress on the occasion of her 
 birthday celebrations. It cannot be denied that he often 
 failed to conceal his sentiments, for he was frank and 
 open-hearted by nature, hated dissimulation, and was 
 unable to hide his true feelings. He knew, and the fact 
 caused him pain, that, with the exception of the Emperor 
 and of two or three friends, every one at the Tuileries 
 hated him, and that his every word and gesture were mis- 
 interpreted. We can hardly blame him for not enjoying 
 these surroundings. The Emperor was annoyed by all 
 the idle gossip circulated about his cousin, but was 
 powerless to prevent it. His own affection for the 
 Prince was criticised at court and made the subject of 
 foolish ridicule. 
 
 " The story that the Prince had himself wished to 
 marry Mile, de Montijo, is absurd and unworthy of 
 consideration. Such an idea was never entertained at 
 court; and if the Prince was at one time fascinated, 
 like so many others, by the beauty of Mile, de Mon- 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 99 
 
 tijo, he was certainly never in love with her, and still 
 less dreamed for a moment of marrying her. 
 
 " The Empress, aside from any personal dislike, hated 
 the Prince, because she recognized in him a superior 
 mind, and feared his influence upon the Emperor. 
 
 "After the death of Napoleon III. she rejected the 
 Prince as tutor to her son and as director of his educa- 
 tion. Had she, however, retained him, I cannot doubt 
 that he would have proved a faithful adviser, and would 
 have mitigated, in some degree, the sorrow which over- 
 came her. When Prince Napoleon was suggested to the 
 Empress as director of her son's studies, she replied that 
 he would bring misfortune to the poor child. Was it 
 not, alas, rather by her persistence in an implacable 
 hatred, that misfortune was brought upon the Prince? 
 Was it not this which, in truth, ruined the future of 
 the imperial dynasty ? " 
 
 Events prove the accuracy of these asser- 
 tions, whose author was, I repeat, one of the 
 most important personages at the court of the 
 Tuileries, one of the most devoted friends of 
 the Emperor ; during the whole course of the 
 imperial reign, he watched hour by hour the 
 wearying annoyances with which the incessant 
 bickerings of the Empress poisoned the sover- 
 eign's life. 
 
 It was at the express wish of the Empress 
 that, after the death of Napoleon III., the 
 Prince was dismissed from the royal family. 
 After the death of her son, the Empress, with 
 
100 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a discourtesy hardly in keeping with that sol- 
 emn moment, requested him to leave Chisel- 
 hurst immediately after the funeral solemnities. 
 He wished to express his sympathy for the 
 Empress, but was refused admittance to the 
 presence of the lonely woman. He realized 
 then, how, even in the presence of her dead 
 son, this mother could not forget her petty 
 bitterness and resentment, and he left her in- 
 hospitable roof. He understood also the plot 
 which was being formed even at the grave of 
 his cousin, by which he should be deprived 
 of his indisputable claim as the head of the 
 dynasty, and he then and there relinquished 
 his title to the succession. 
 
 " I have no place at the Tuileries,' ' he said to 
 those who were surprised at his sudden depart- 
 ure, "and I have no duties to fulfil here." 
 
 I well remember, one day at Versailles, at a 
 time when the Chamber of Deputies held its 
 sessions there, when Prince Napoleon, repre- 
 senting the people, appeared in the tribune at a 
 moment when there was a debate on the ques- 
 tion of public worship ; in an allusion to the 
 Emperor's policy toward Rome, he cried, point- 
 ing toward the Empress, that if it were per- 
 mitted him to speak and to divulge the secrets 
 of the late Emperor's reign, he would satisfy 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 01 
 
 Parliament as to the cause of the policy which 
 he had pursued, and give it an idea of the fatal 
 and the pernicious influence exercised by the 
 Empress upon the councils of Napoleon III. 
 
 It may be that Prince Napoleon was on this 
 day overcome by a natural resentment for that 
 hatred of which, for so many years, he had been 
 the victim, and gave way, therefore, in that mo- 
 ment to a desire for revenge which he found in 
 accusing, for the first time in his life, the Em- 
 press Eugenie of all those evils which fell to 
 the lot of France and of Napoleon III. I am 
 ignorant as to whether, among the papers be- 
 queathed to his heirs, there were documents 
 in which the accusations as yet but hinted at 
 were definitely set forth, and which should 
 serve to exonerate him in the judgment of the 
 future. Were there such papers, his heirs 
 doubtless made haste to destroy them. He is 
 dead, but in death itself the hatred of the Em- 
 press pursued him ; she won from him his own 
 son, he who might have filled with sweetness 
 the last hours of the dying man — in whom, 
 too, was the chance of political restoration. 
 
 Prince Napoleon had the mask of the Caesars ; 
 we may, indeed, despite the many errors of his 
 life, attribute to him many of their moral and 
 intellectual qualities. Tall and large, with the 
 
102 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 figure of an athlete, he was wont to walk through 
 the streets with a certain solemnity of manner 
 which made him appear a stranger to all his sur- 
 roundings. To see him pass thus with his head, 
 which was shaped like that of a Roman empe- 
 ror, slightly bowed, conjured up a vision of one 
 of those patricians who, at the time of circuses 
 and of heathen rites, wandered through the an- 
 cient city enveloped in a flowing peplum fringed 
 with royal purple. 
 
 His character is more difficult to describe 
 than is his appearance. Though his judgment 
 was both keen and accurate, a kind of nervous- 
 ness and a certain lack of balance led him to 
 commit many errors fatal to his reputation and 
 to the fulfilment of his own wishes. Demo- 
 crat and autocrat at once, he at one moment 
 aspired toward an universal freedom, and at 
 the next showed himself absolute in authority. 
 Such inconsistencies as these rendered him 
 often incomprehensible to his most intimate 
 friends, and, if I may use a simile, placed him 
 in the position of a navigator driven between 
 two seas, the one calm, the other tempestuous, 
 but prevented by some evil fate from embark- 
 ing upon either. 
 
 The same inconsistencies were apparent in 
 his domestic life. This professed democrat 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 03 
 
 entertained his visitors with all the dignity 
 which his social rank justified ; he established 
 in his home a most severe etiquette, so that it 
 was said in the royal household that the court 
 atmosphere was far stronger at the Palais-Royal 
 than at the Tuileries. 
 
 Prince Napoleon had many and great faults, 
 but he possessed in equal measure qualities 
 which made him one of the most remarkable 
 men of the century. 
 
 A brilliant conversationalist, he loved, as did 
 the Emperor, to provoke opposition and to seek 
 argument for the simple joy of displaying his 
 powers, that he might, by a sort of coquetry, 
 by almost feminine artifice, triumph over the 
 arguments of an adversary, and leave him a 
 thorough convert to his own views. For some 
 inexplicable reason, that grace and charm which 
 distinguished the prince in his more intimate 
 relations were lost entirely when he appeared 
 in public. There was in his bearing at such 
 times an unconcealed scorn for all those who 
 were about him ; he would, by his unpleasant 
 manner on such occasions, make enemies of his 
 former converts. 
 
 His contempt for politicians, with whom he 
 was necessarily thrown in close' contact, and for 
 the masses, whose cause he publicly advocated, 
 
104 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 was genuine and ingrained ; it was the occasion 
 of many misfortunes, which saddened his life, 
 and filled his days with controversy and with 
 disappointed hopes. His thoughts, always far 
 loftier than his conduct, and adverse to many 
 acts which through a fatal tactlessness he com- 
 mitted, dwelt among high ideals- — ideals which 
 remind one of those which filled the mind of 
 Napoleon I. 
 
 A certain uncompromising and almost dis- 
 courteous manner, either natural or assumed, 
 kept at a distance those who, though not parti- 
 sans of his policy, would, nevertheless, have 
 gladly pleaded his cause with the Emperor at 
 a time when calumny sought to undermine the 
 affection existing between the cousins. The 
 prince was never consciously unkind ; his heart 
 rebelled with childlike simplicity against all 
 that is morbid, deceitful, and bitter in life, and 
 he regretted the evil he had done, and the ridi- 
 cule and insult which he had heaped on others. 
 If a friend pointed out to him the tactlessness 
 or the injustice of his conduct, he listened with 
 interest to his remonstrances, confessed his 
 mistakes, which he immediately hastened, with 
 no false pride in his heart and no ostentation or 
 princely condescension in his manner, to repair. 
 
 There is an anecdote which illustrates admir- 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 105 
 
 ably his true kindliness, a kindliness which the 
 prince would have taken pleasure in constantly 
 exercising, but which was often concealed by 
 the force of circumstances. 
 
 One day at Compiegne, M. Billault, a minister 
 without a portfolio, who, with MM. Rouher and 
 Magne, had been appointed by the Emperor to 
 defend the policy of the Tuileries before the 
 Chambers, M. Billault, I say, happened to pass 
 the Prince, who was talking at that moment 
 with a friend, and bowed deferentially. It is 
 well known that M. Billault was a frequent vis- 
 itor at the Palais-Royal, and there is, indeed, 
 a story which assigns to the strong affection 
 which the old King Jerome always entertained 
 for him very natural reasons. M. Billault, 
 therefore, having made his obeisance to the 
 Prince, the latter looked at him blankly, and 
 did not return his salutation. 
 
 The lady with whom he was talking could 
 not conceal her surprise, and asked Prince 
 Napoleon frankly the cause of his action, 
 which, insignificant as it seemed, might yet 
 occasion serious trouble. 
 
 " Did you not see, Monseigneur," she asked, 
 "that M. Billault bowed to you? " 
 
 " I saw, certainly, that M. Billault bowed to 
 me," was the reply; "but I prefer that no 
 
106 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 friendly relations shall exist between us, and 
 no courtesies be exchanged." 
 
 " Do you forget, then, Monseigneur, that M. 
 Billault is a true friend to you, that he is a 
 man of rare gifts, and was much loved by your 
 father?" 
 
 " According to my convenience, I forget 
 everything or nothing. Billault made yester- 
 day such a weak speech in the Chamber, a 
 speech so flat and pithless" — it had concerned 
 the question of Rome, a subject which always 
 excited the prince to much vehemence — "so 
 flat and pithless, I say, that I place no more con- 
 fidence in the man. I will have no friend whose 
 political views are controlled by the Empress." 
 
 "Ah, Monseigneur," replied the woman, 
 "you are unjust. We must admit that M. Bil- 
 lault spoke as he did yesterday to please the 
 Empress, and is somewhat too ready to conform 
 to her wishes ; but he loves you, notwithstand- 
 ing this, and you should realise that he who is 
 chosen by the Tuileries as one of their first 
 instruments in this Roman question, could not 
 have spoken differently. Can a musician in an 
 orchestra play other than the notes belonging 
 to his score ? Lay aside your resentment, then, 
 and give him your hand. He will be touched 
 by your apology, and will feel more than ever 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 107 
 
 cordially toward you. You have not so many 
 friends, Monseigneur, that you can afford to 
 neglect those who are brave and faithful." 
 
 The Prince listened attentively to these 
 words, remained pensive a moment, then rose, 
 his face wearing an expression of great sadness. 
 
 " You are right," he said ; " Billault is not his 
 own master, and I owe him an apology." 
 
 With that gracious cordiality, therefore, by 
 which his manner was at times distinguished, 
 he went in search of the minister, and expressed 
 to him his regret for the recent evidence of ill- 
 humour which he had given. 
 
 This anecdote shows how ready was Prince 
 Napoleon to obey the impulse of the moment, 
 and it also gives us insight into the causes of 
 the imperial policy toward the great Roman 
 question ; it throws light upon those secret 
 agencies which kept this problem in a state of 
 continual danger and conflict. The woman 
 whose argument with the Prince we have this 
 moment quoted, was thoroughly conversant 
 with affairs of state, and was among those 
 who exercised the strongest influence upon the 
 Second Empire. 
 
 I have already stated that the Emperor and 
 Prince Napoleon felt a strong attachment for 
 
108 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 each other, and that all the stories are false 
 which represent these men as bitter enemies, 
 as rivals ready at any moment to fall upon and 
 to harm each other. Prince Napoleon had con- 
 stantly to undergo, during his cousin's reign, 
 the hatred of the Empress, which hatred inevi- 
 tably called forth the ill-will and the prejudice of 
 her courtiers. Had the Emperor possessed the 
 courage or the power to interpose between the 
 Prince and his enemies he would have found in 
 this man an useful instrument ; he might have 
 put a restraint on his many unwise actions, and 
 made use of his gifts for the imperial cause ; a 
 political understanding between these two men, 
 an harmony of purpose which the public should 
 have recognised and respected, would have given 
 the government a firm foundation and have in- 
 sured the future of the imperial policy. The 
 most serious charge brought against the Prince 
 was that in his speeches he openly and sys- 
 tematically opposed the Emperor's projects. 
 There is, however, a curious fact relating to 
 these speeches of which it is well to remind 
 the reader. 
 
 Prince Napoleon — I am in a position to 
 verify this statement — never expressed an 
 opinion officially without first submitting his 
 remarks to the Emperor for examination and 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 09 
 
 for approval. Previous to his speaking in pub- 
 lic, the Prince invariably gave the Emperor a 
 written version of his address, which the Em- 
 peror promptly returned him. If he found 
 therein the expression of some sentiment op- 
 posed to his own, Napoleon III. simply sug- 
 gested that a little revision here and there 
 would be advisable. Such suggestions were, 
 however, never given as a command, nor did he 
 ever condemn any part as evil or dangerous. 
 
 The Prince always deferred to the Emperor's 
 wish, and revised his manuscript in a way to 
 satisfy him. It, however, sometimes chanced 
 that at the time of delivery he would astonish 
 his cousin by an unexpected violence, and by 
 spontaneous outbursts quite foreign to the text 
 which they had prepared together. The ex- 
 planation and the excuse for this lie in the 
 fact that between the time of his conversation 
 with the Emperor and that when he delivered 
 his speech — this is a fact to be noted and 
 borne in mind — that in the meantime, I say, 
 intrigues, scandals, annoyances of every kind, 
 had been instigated by the Empress ; there 
 was a foolish and profitless delight taken in 
 provoking his excitable and rebellious nature ; 
 he was persecuted despite his submission to the 
 wishes of the Emperor ; despite his own meek- 
 
IIO NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ness of spirit, was persecuted and hunted down 
 like a goaded beast in the arena which longs for 
 the undisturbed peace of his own lair. 
 
 The indignation of the ministry and of the 
 entire court at the time when Prince Napoleon 
 delivered his famous speech in Corsica will be 
 remembered. This very speech, strange as it 
 may seem, this speech which called forth such 
 bitter criticism in the Moniteur, and was 
 sought by some as a pretext for exiling the 
 Prince, had been read by the Emperor, and 
 returned by him to his cousin without modifi- 
 cation, without comment. 
 
 " Their purpose is," said Napoleon III. to 
 one of his most intimate, one of his most 
 dearly loved friends, *' their purpose is to in- 
 fluence me against my cousin, that I may drive 
 him from the Tuileries, and add one more indig- 
 nity to those which are now heaped upon him ; 
 that I may close alike my heart and my home 
 against him. I will never accede to these 
 wishes. I will never look upon the Prince as 
 an enemy. When not in my presence he 
 seems to disapprove of my actions ; but when 
 with me he is all that be should be. Pie is my 
 friend, and there is no hypocrisy in this atti- 
 tude ; he is alike sincere when he expresses an 
 attachment for me, and when, driven to revolt 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. ill 
 
 by the bitter hatred which pursues him, by the 
 contempt of which he is a victim, he rises in 
 arms, it is not against me personally, but against 
 the men and also the women who surround me. 
 I forgive his resentment ; in his place I do not 
 know how I should act. When humanity at- 
 tempts indifference to abuse and to insult, it 
 finds itself confronted by a force which it is 
 powerless to overcome. At heart Napoleon 
 loves me, and I require from him nothing more 
 than this. Why should I, by withdrawing my 
 sympathy, add another cause of bitterness to 
 the many which he already has ? " 
 
 The Emperor took comfort in feeling that 
 the Prince was no hypocrite, and his judgment 
 of him in this respect was certainly right. 
 Prince Napoleon scorned deceit, was loyal in 
 all the relations of life, was open with his adver- 
 saries, faced obstacles bravely, though at the 
 risk of doing himself harm, and despised sub- 
 terfuge and compromise. In these virtues is 
 power sufficient to influence the destiny of 
 a nation. 
 
 The Prince was, however, neither popular at 
 court nor in the world of politics, nor yet with 
 the masses. Whatever the gifts and the intel- 
 ligence of a man may be, of however honest 
 a nature he is, he cannot counteract the influ- 
 
112 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ence of slander, nor hope to extricate himself 
 from the meshes which calumny weaves round 
 him. Notwithstanding his strong moral and 
 intellectual force, Prince Napoleon thus became 
 the victim of falsehood. 
 
 He understood the theory of government, but 
 the law-makers would have nothing to do with 
 him ; he toiled for the people whose interests 
 he had at heart, and, in return, was ridiculed by 
 them. He was more of a prince, more of an 
 aristocrat, than are many princes and aristo- 
 crats, yet he was despised by the upper classes. 
 He was a democrat, but the democrats never 
 gave him their confidence ; in short, he was 
 opposed, envied, feared — feared in the face of 
 raillery and scorn, because none could fail to 
 recognise his intellectual superiority, and was 
 like the abortive progeny of a gigantic dream, 
 a dream of the Caesars, upon whom a wicked 
 spirit has cast the evil eye. 
 
 Prince Napoleon's role in the Second Empire 
 was that of a malcontent, of a fault-finder, and 
 almost of a factionist. Yet he not only loved 
 the Emperor and was loved by him, but held 
 views on many questions which were in har- 
 mony with his. His liberalism, even his rad- 
 icalism, were not incompatible with those 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 13 
 
 vague socialistic dreams which haunted the 
 sovereign's mind, while his theories of na- 
 tional unity were peculiarly satisfying to the 
 Emperor's ideals. The consolidation of Ger- 
 many was not at all alarming to the Prince ; but 
 he would have wished it accomplished by an 
 understanding with France, and he was among 
 those who most regretted the failure of M. Bis- 
 marck's mission when that statesman went to 
 Biarritz, hoping to win the co-operation of the 
 Tuileries in the fulfilment of his political 
 schemes. 
 
 The Princejs feelings of sympathy and of 
 accord with the Emperor were, alas, often con- 
 cealed by the ill-temper, the irritability, excited 
 in him by the annoyances which he was called 
 upon to endure at court, and also, we must 
 admit, by his temperament, somewhat like that 
 of a spoiled child, and by his tendency to com- 
 mit indiscretions, repeated time after time. A 
 strange fatality prevented his availing himself 
 of his opportunities, and forced him to speak 
 when he should have been silent, and to be 
 silent when he should have spoken. It was, 
 however, more especially the attitude of hos- 
 tility which the Prince always assumed outside 
 the Tuileries, and when surrounded by the 
 splendour of the Palais-Royal, which served to 
 
114 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 belie his real feelings of accord ; the political 
 counsellors whom he chose, and the friends with 
 whom he surrounded himself during hours of 
 recreation, contributed also to the same end. 
 
 His court — for the Prince held a court of 
 his own — was made up of men opposed to the 
 Empire ; this assembly of politicians, of jour- 
 nalists, and writers, who were all enemies of the 
 Tuileries, furnished the Empress daily with a 
 plausible pretext for making both the official 
 and the domestic life of the palace unendurable 
 to her cousin. 
 
 The Emperor himself never seriously feared 
 the friends whom Prince Napoleon chose. 
 
 " No, no," he was wont to say, when these 
 men were represented to him as dangerous, 
 " no, no ; they are but an herd of neglected 
 sheep, which need a little care ; a few good 
 seats in the Senate will make that right." 
 
 It must not be thought that Prince Napoleon, 
 in gathering about him men of this nature, had 
 any desire to make a display, or to fill the role 
 of Dauphin in partibus ; nor did he seek, in an 
 interested and forced allegiance, to gratify any 
 feeling of vanity or of false pride ; he even 
 failed to see in it an opportunity of increasing 
 fortune, or of facilitating an opposition to his 
 cousin's government. He had, on the contrary, 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 115 
 
 a horror of courtiers and of money transac- 
 tions. One anecdote will illustrate his strong 
 sense of honour in affairs of finance, and the 
 fear which he had of money not his own. 
 
 After the war of 1870, Prince Napoleon 
 expressed a wish to establish a paper which 
 should support his views. A rich friend and 
 enthusiastic admirer, approving his project and 
 appreciating the difficulty in the way of its ful- 
 filment, — Prince Napoleon's means did not per- 
 mit the expenditure necessary to such a scheme, 
 — consulted with him on the subject, and of- 
 fered to lend him, unconditionally, the required 
 sum, with freedom to return the amount as 
 should be convenient. The Prince, delighted 
 to put his plan into immediate execution, ac- 
 cepted directly the money of his generous 
 patron. As soon, however, as he came into 
 possession of the desired capital, he grew 
 uneasy. 
 
 "You know that M. X ," he said one 
 
 day to a friend who asked the cause of his 
 
 anxiety, "you know that M. X has lent 
 
 me the money necessary to establish the paper 
 of which I have long dreamed. It is this gen- 
 erous loan, this borrowed capital, which worries 
 me. The money I shall use is not mine ; it 
 may, of course, increase, but it may, on the 
 
Il6 NAPOLEON 111 
 
 other hand, be lost. As I should not be able 
 in the latter case to return what was given me, 
 surely I have no right to use the amount at all. 
 This money troubles me, it burns my fingers, 
 I cannot keep it. I feel that I have no claim 
 upon it, and I shall return the loan to-day. If 
 I find that a paper is absolutely essential, I will 
 sell some land which I own near Prangins, but 
 it shall not be said that I have speculated with 
 the fortune of another." 
 
 The Prince acted as he said he should ; he 
 
 returned the money to M. X , and to 
 
 establish the paper sold a part of his own 
 property, that he might be a debtor to no one. 
 
 This conduct must be acknowledged honour- 
 able and praiseworthy, and should not be for- 
 gotten in our estimate of Prince Napoleon. It 
 gives to his character, which is the object of 
 much controversy and much persecution, an 
 element of loftiness demanding our esteem. I 
 know that the public will never appreciate the 
 chivalrous nature of Prince Napoleon, — that 
 public which finds little interest in simple and 
 unromantic acts, which enjoys only scandals 
 and the apotheosis of the successful villain, or 
 the awful ruin of the honest man. I foresee 
 the astonishment of such a public when it reads 
 these lines. We have become accustomed to 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 117 
 
 look upon the Prince as upon a grotesque fig- 
 ure, around which are grouped ridiculous and 
 unpleasant stories. 
 
 Of Prince Napoleon there remains in our 
 memories to-day only that absurd nickname 
 which caricaturists and penny-a-liners created, 
 and which serves to call forth laughter at the 
 very suggestion of his personality. This sobri- 
 quet did more to ruin his hopes and to weaken 
 his authority than did even the objectionable 
 reputation given him by the world of politics ; 
 he was constantly before the public in the char- 
 acter of a tragic actor who awakened only 
 amusement. 
 
 Prince Napoleon is represented as revelling 
 in low orgies, whereas his dinners, at which 
 were present the ilite among writers and 
 artists, had the charm and the brilliancy of 
 social gatherings in the time of the Renais- 
 sance. He is represented as a man without 
 ideals, whereas — this fact cannot be too 
 strongly emphasised — whereas, in this Sec- 
 ond Empire, which had no sympathy with 
 culture or learning, he stands forth as an 
 enlightened protector of arts and letters, as a 
 lover of the beautiful, and as a man of an almost 
 creative mind. His mask of the Caesars, the 
 mask which Nature had modelled after that of 
 
Il8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Napoleon I., should have impressed the people 
 by the majesty which was recognised in that of 
 his uncle. The public, however, did not see 
 this mask ; did not. recognise in this man the 
 risen figure of him who was the Emperor — we 
 write the title without epithet — it made this 
 silhouette of the Caesars the object of ridicule 
 as though it had been the comic apparition of a 
 Chinese ghost. 
 
 The war of 1870 broke out while Prince 
 Napoleon was travelling in the north of Europe, 
 and filled him with despair. As soon as he 
 knew of the events which were following each 
 other with appalling rapidity, he returned to his 
 own country, and hastened directly to Saint- 
 Cloud, where, as I have already said, the Em- 
 peror, the Empress, and the whole court had 
 removed. 
 
 When the Prince presented himself before 
 Napoleon III. there followed an animated 
 scene, no account of which has ever been 
 given, and of which I am about to speak. 
 
 The Prince, carried away by his excitement, 
 became vehement as soon as he entered the 
 Emperor's presence. 
 
 "We have declared war, have we," he cried, 
 " war, for which we are totally unprepared ! In 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 119 
 
 what condition are we to enter on a campaign ? 
 This is a war against a powerful nation, one 
 which has not trusted to mere chance ; against 
 a nation, I say, which will crush us." 
 
 "Yes," muttered the Emperor, "this will be 
 ■ war indeed." 
 
 " If I have been rightly informed," continued 
 the Prince, " it is the Empress who has brought 
 this upon us. It is Eugenie and the pernicious 
 men who obey her who have involved us in this 
 trouble. I told you long ago, sire, that this 
 woman would be your ruin and that of France. 
 Your reign is strewn with the havoc which she 
 has wrought." 
 
 The Emperor rose, and turning ashy pale, 
 faced the Prince. 
 
 " Napoleon," he exclaimed, " Napoleon ! " 
 
 " Forgive my frankness, but do you not see 
 that the Empress and those who surround her, 
 those whom she inspires with her own hatred 
 of your government and with her desire for ab- 
 solutism, — do you not see that these are filled 
 with joy by the prospect of war, and, be it suc- 
 cessful or the reverse, hope to gain from it the 
 one result, the end of your present policy, and 
 the restoration of the Empire of December 
 Second ? " 
 
 "Napoleon," said the Emperor gently, "your 
 
120 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 words are rash ; your presentiments, which, alas ! 
 perhaps correspond with mine, lead you to speak 
 more strongly than you feel. You are unjust 
 toward Eugenie ; she has faith in our victory ;, 
 let us believe as she does and be hopeful." 
 
 The Emperor paused for a moment, then 
 went forward and took the Prince by the hand. 
 
 "What does it avail," he added, "to regret 
 what has already occurred ? War has been de- 
 clared, and we cannot now change our decision." 
 
 " So be it," returned the Prince, " so be it ! 
 Let us, however, make haste to pack our pos- 
 sessions, for we are already beaten." 
 
 Having thus expressed himself, he left Napo- 
 leon III. alone with his melancholy thoughts. 
 
 The following day the Prince gave an account 
 
 of this scene to the Marchioness de , and 
 
 it is she who repeated it to me. 
 
 On that day the Prince expressed to Mme. 
 
 de almost the same sentiments which he 
 
 had done to his cousin. 
 
 "We are lost," he said. "We are entering 
 the field without an ally, and we cannot hope 
 that Italy or Austria will come to our aid. 
 Italy is not prepared to do so ; and my father- 
 in-law, Victor Emmanuel, could not, at the very 
 earliest, collect his troops in less than a month 
 or two. What reason have we to suppose that 
 
PRINCE N4POLEON. 12 1 
 
 Austria will care to help us ? Did we come for- 
 ward in her behalf after Sadowa? Did not 
 Prince Metternich himself tell you that his 
 nation would remain a simple spectator of the 
 struggle about to take place ? Oh, the Empress 
 and her party knew well how to bring affairs 
 to the desired climax ! One fact, however, as- 
 tonishes me ; that is, that Ollivier should have 
 so easily fallen into the trap which was laid for 
 him. Why did he, who is so patriotic, so wise, 
 so reserved, allow himself to be ensnared like a 
 fool ? You may be sure that there is some 
 snake-in-the-grass, of whom we shall hear later ; 
 but, however that may be, we are lost." 
 
 There is a certain ambiguity, perhaps, result- 
 ing from the accounts which I have given of 
 scenes and conversations concerning this war 
 problem. In a subsequent chapter, called "The 
 Declaration of War," I will explain more fully 
 the meaning of Prince Napoleon's words, and 
 will speak of those intrigues organised about the 
 Emperor, for the purpose of creating between 
 him and the King of Prussia an inevitable cause 
 of hostilities, and of making all reconciliation 
 impossible to the Cabinet of January Second. 
 
 After the fall of the Empire and the death of 
 Napoleon III., and during the short life of the 
 
122 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Prince Imperial, Prince Napoleon maintained a 
 strict reserve and calmly awaited developments. 
 Banished, as I have said, from both the domestic 
 and the political circle at Chiselhurst, he now 
 devoted himself exclusively — though without 
 severing the ties which bound him to his de- 
 voted friends at home — to the education of his 
 son ; he travelled back and forth continually 
 between the Boulevard d'Antin, where he lived 
 in Paris, and the home of his brother-in-law, 
 King Humbert of Italy. 
 
 When, after the death of the Prince Imperial, 
 he was brought to realise that the Empress's 
 hatred had in no wise abated, and that intrigues 
 were still formed among her courtiers and in 
 those parts of France which were obedient to 
 her, by which he should be excluded from the 
 direction of all that concerned the Bonapartes — 
 when he realised this, I say, the Prince assumed 
 an offensive attitude, and presented himself be- 
 fore the people as their leader, though he con- 
 cealed under absolute submission to the will of 
 the people his real hopes and claims. 
 
 The evil fate, which, however, pursued him in 
 politics, prevented his having at any time what 
 could be truly called a party, a firmly estab- 
 lished party, that is strong in its feeling of 
 unity and able to withstand its adversaries ; 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 123 
 
 having, therefore, been elected deputy, he found 
 himself practically isolated in Parliament. 
 
 I can remember him at this time when, in his 
 loneliness, he seemed like some wild animal 
 that has taken refuge in an obscure place to 
 watch for the desired prey, or, not finding it, to 
 die. He sat in the right wing of the Assem- 
 bly, but on the top row of the amphitheatre, 
 near a doorway leading into the lobby. He was 
 seldom in his seat, but wandered back and forth 
 between the Assembly-room and the lobbies, 
 and appeared only interested in the more vital 
 questions of the day. 
 
 I have mentioned elsewhere a discussion 
 upon religious observances in which he took 
 part. It was, I believe, the only occasion when 
 he spoke in Parliament, and his attitude on that 
 day is most curious. 
 
 When he mounted the tribune, his large, 
 athletic figure seemed almost to strike awe into 
 the Assembly ; a low murmur passed round the 
 room, but was soon followed by cries of " hear, 
 hear ! " after which deep silence filled the hall. 
 
 The Prince, apparently unmoved by this ques- 
 tionable reception, whose meaning might be 
 approval or insult, addressed himself to the 
 deputies in language of familiarity such as he 
 would have used in talking to a few friends in 
 
124 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a drawing-room ; in his attitudes even, and 
 in his gestures, there was an air of hail-fellow- 
 well-met. 
 
 His thumbs in his trousers-pockets, his other 
 fingers outside, he spoke for several hours, at- 
 tacking vehemently the Catholic party, and 
 upholding the rights of civil society against 
 the religious world; he called forth shouts of 
 applause from the left wing, while the conserva- 
 tives hissed angrily. Even the latter, however, 
 forgot from time to time their indignation and 
 listened attentively, secretly admiring, it may 
 be, his eloquence. His whole discourse was 
 marked by rare oratorical beauty, and those 
 who were fortunate enough to hear him on 
 that day can but acknowledge and admire his 
 great gift. 
 
 He was too often regardless of his power to 
 charm, and, carried away by enthusiasm in his 
 subject, became violent. Each word clearly 
 enunciated, the accents of his rich, sonorous 
 voice fell upon the ears of his adversaries 
 with its message of studied and faultless logic. 
 His scornful gestures, the shrug of his broad 
 shoulders, told now little weight he attached 
 to their arguments and to their interruptions. 
 When he had finished his speech, and, having 
 descended from the tribune, was returning to his 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 12$ 
 
 place amidst shouts of applause from the repub- 
 licans, he was suddenly forced to pause in the 
 semi-circle. The conservatives, roused to indig- 
 nation, had risen from their seats with loud 
 exclamations, and were advancing toward him 
 with threats and menaces. 
 
 There now followed such a scene as had 
 never before been witnessed, and which will 
 never escape my memory. 
 
 Against this human avalanche which barred 
 his way, Prince Napoleon took his stand at the 
 foot of the tribune, squared himself and waited 
 the attack ; his great frame trembled with fury, 
 his eyes flamed, his nostrils and lips quivered. 
 Some of the deputies were already upon him, 
 doubling their fists in his face ; he was being 
 borne from his position by the on-pressing mass, 
 when, with a great shake of his mighty shoul- 
 ders, he stepped forward, and, throwing himself 
 against the opposing force, made an opening 
 in the ranks of the enemy and in two or three 
 strides gained his seat. Resuming his place, 
 he then crossed his arms on his chest from 
 which his breath came like the blast from a 
 blacksmith's forge, and looked scornfully upon 
 those who had sought to insult him ; he smiled 
 and played the part of a Cassar indeed, — Ccesar 
 imperator. In that moment he showed the 
 
126 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 representatives of the nation a vision of the 
 Prince who might have reigned over them ; of 
 a tribune who, having himself issued from the 
 people, might have laboured in behalf of the 
 people, had they but given him their affection. 
 
 When the decrees relative to religious assem- 
 blies were signed, Prince Napoleon was no 
 longer deputy, and having no right to speak, 
 came out in a famous letter approving the legal 
 measures about to be taken against Catholic 
 associations. The stir and controversy excited 
 by this letter are well known. 
 
 I had occasion to interview the Prince at 
 about this time, and was received by him in the 
 Boulevard d'Antin. My mission related to va- 
 rious provincial journals, and we discussed the 
 question together. 
 
 The Prince wished to win to his cause certain 
 organs of the press representing the depart- 
 ments. I told him frankly that the letter 
 which he had just written made any such co- 
 operation impossible. He listened attentively 
 to what I said, and, as I ceased speaking, rolled 
 a cigarette, then walked up and down the 
 drawing-room for several moments. 
 
 "Monsieur," he said at last, "Monsieur, the 
 meaning and import of my letter have been seri- 
 ously misunderstood. There is nothing anti- 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 27 
 
 religious meant by it, nothing hostile to 
 freedom. It approves and demands the execu- 
 tion of laws which should be the same for all 
 citizens, and whose enforcement I should com- 
 pel had I power to do so. You say that the 
 provincial press, the moderate press, that is, 
 cannot, after this declaration signed with my 
 name, support me. Certain papers have, in- 
 deed, taken a well-defined position, and the fact 
 has given me pleasure ; these have among 
 their readers many Bonapartists, royalists, and 
 church-going republicans, and if these journals 
 should praise me, if they should venture to sug- 
 gest that I am not a great patron of curates, 
 they would not be believed ; as a consequence, 
 their subscribers would go elsewhere, and they 
 would be ruined. This is sad, yet were I to 
 write my letter once more I should still express 
 myself as I have done. The moderates, never- 
 theless, know very well that I am the enemy of 
 all persecution, that I uphold liberty of con- 
 science and the Concordat. They are, however, 
 like frogs which cry out for a king ; I offer 
 myself in this capacity, but they reject me, fear- 
 ing that I may devour them. It is not I, how- 
 ever, who shall enjoy this tidbit. Another will 
 arise and claim it ; then, when it is too late, the 
 frogs will wish for me." 
 
128 NAPOLEON III 
 
 I could but maintain my position, and con- 
 sequently turned the conversation into other 
 channels. The Prince, who was in a conversa- 
 tional mood, spoke of affairs and of men of 
 the times. There was one little sketch which 
 impressed me as peculiarly charming. 
 
 " Gambetta," said the Emperor, "is at heart 
 a kind fellow, and wishes only peace. He has 
 not the cruelty which is so often necessary in 
 politics. He is a sentimentalist, as all fat men 
 are. He will come into power, he will be 
 prime minister ; but he will be like the lion in 
 love ; he will allow his claws to be cut, his 
 fangs to be removed. Oh, he will be politic 
 enough. As for M. Jules Ferry, he is a differ- 
 ent man. M. Jules Ferry has a temperament 
 as cold as that of the surgeon who, unmoved by 
 the cries of his patient, cuts deeply into the 
 flesh. He is made to govern. It was he who 
 created Article 7, and prepared the decrees, 
 nor has he spoken his last word. Will his end 
 be triumph or ruin ? What will be the result 
 of his final message ? I do not know. To 
 whatever extreme, however, he may be led, this 
 man will certainly never allow himself to be 
 buried alive. He is a lean, fierce bull." 
 
 After a pause, the Prince added a remark 
 which I have quoted in the first chapter of 
 "The Court of Napoleon III." 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 29 
 
 "I will not speak," said he, "of M. de 
 Cassagnac. He is a very worthy pontifical 
 Zouave." 
 
 One of Prince Napoleon's last political acts 
 was to cover the walls of Paris with that mani- 
 festo which cost him several weeks of imprison- 
 ment in the Conciergerie. 
 
 When, after this experience, he returned 
 home, he was greatly disheartened, and for a 
 time dropped out of public notice. Then his 
 eldest son, Prince Victor, deserted him, and by 
 this act drew forth, in behalf of Prince Napo- 
 leon, the sympathy, if not of statesmen, at 
 least of all fathers. 
 
 An accurate account of the scene which re- 
 sulted in a final rupture between him and his 
 son has been given me by an intimate friend of 
 the Prince, and I repeat it here just as it was 
 told me. 
 
 The general reasons for this rupture are 
 known, but the public is ignorant of many dis- 
 tressing details in connection with the occur- 
 rence. With whom in this affair lies the 
 responsibility, the blame ? With the father, or 
 with the son ? 
 
 I believe that both were victims of competi- 
 tion, of ambition, and of ill-will, strangely out of 
 harmony with their own natures. I believe that 
 
130 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 this father and son were alienated, as it were, 
 against their own wills and by the mighty force 
 of circumstances. 
 
 Prince Victor had been appointed by the 
 Prince Imperial as successor to the Empire; 
 and so it chanced that, some time after the 
 death of the unhappy boy, the Bonapartist fac- 
 tion divided into two camps, one of which 
 rallied round Prince Victor, the other round 
 Prince Napoleon. 
 
 M. Jolibois and all those who remained of 
 the party which, during the Second Empire, 
 had been known as that of the Empress, rose 
 in arms. M. Jolibois led the anti-Jeromist fac- 
 tion, and aided by a few too-fervent friends, 
 succeeded in persuading the Prince that, in the 
 interest of the cause and in loyalty to the 
 wishes of his dead friend, he ought to break 
 with his father. As Prince Victor seemed 
 adverse to such an act, M. Jolibois and his 
 adherents next attempted a little strategy with 
 Prince Xapoleon, by which they sought to bring 
 about an abdication in favour of his son. It is 
 hardly needful to state the reception which this 
 proposal met. 
 
 The conspirators then changed their tactics. 
 They returned to Prince Victor, and declared 
 that under no circumstances ought he to remain 
 
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 1 3 1 
 
 under his father's roof. The young man suf- 
 fered still a few qualms of conscience ; but when 
 finally it was said that the future of the dynasty 
 depended upon his decision, and that in it, too, 
 lay the chance of a speedy restoration, he ac- 
 ceded to his friends' wishes and endorsed their 
 conduct. 
 
 Prince Napoleon remained for some time 
 ignorant of these circumstances, but at last a 
 moment came when his son could no longer 
 conceal his plans. After breakfast one morn- 
 ing, the Prince remarked to his father that he 
 had resolved to live henceforth independently, 
 and must ask his consent to a separation. 
 Prince Napoleon only half understood his son's 
 words. 
 
 " I have no opposition to make to such a 
 plan," he said ; "you are young, and I perfectly 
 understand your wishes, and even approve of 
 them. I will see that apartments are found for 
 you quite separate from mine." 
 
 The Prince tossed his head. 
 
 "Thank you, father," he replied, "but that is 
 not what I mean by being free. It seems to me 
 wise, in the interest of my cause, that we should 
 be entirely separated ; and for this reason I have, 
 I confess, already rented an apartment. ... I 
 have need to be alone," he added ; " my party 
 
132 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 demands this separation, and it is my duty to 
 obey my friends' wishes." 
 
 Prince Napoleon could hardly believe his 
 ears. 
 
 " Your party," he cried, "your party ; of what 
 party are you speaking ? Our cause is not di- 
 vided ; my party is also yours. What is the 
 matter," he added in a fatherly tone, "are 
 you in need of money ? Are you wearied by 
 the monotony of this life ? I will increase your 
 allowance, I will leave you absolutely free." 
 
 The young prince did not, however, swerve. 
 
 " Thank you, father," he protested ; " but it is 
 not that which I want. Our separation is all 
 that is necessary." 
 
 "Ah, I understand now," exclaimed Prince 
 Napoleon ; " I understand ; there are those who 
 wish to make us enemies, and they place you in 
 a position opposed to mine, in the position of 
 my adversary. This conversation has been re- 
 quired of you by certain colleagues. You are 
 doubtless bribed by Jolibois. Go, sir ; I do not 
 seek to detain you." 
 
 Prince Napoleon rose, and, leaving his son, 
 withdrew to his own room. This is the last 
 hour which the father and son spent together. 
 Prince Victor was henceforth his own master 
 and the leader of his party. 
 
PRINCE N/IPOLEON. 1 33 
 
 I can but feel it well-nigh impossible that he 
 should fill his father's place, who, though he fell 
 behind in the race after power and was guilty 
 of many political errors, yet remains in history 
 one of the most remarkable minds of our day. 
 
 The exile in which Prince Napoleon spent the 
 last years of his life seems to have wrapped 
 his memory in oblivion ; the tomb where his 
 remains are laid conceals his very name from 
 the world. Men of arts and letters cannot, 
 however, forget that this man gave them his de- 
 voted interest and knew how to appreciate their 
 works intelligently. Politicians can scarcely 
 overlook his statesmanlike qualities, — qualities 
 which sought an higher plane for their exercise 
 than that of the small quibbles of the hour. 
 Philosophers, a class of men whose companion- 
 ship he loved and sought and to whose message 
 he eagerly listened, would indeed be ungrateful 
 did they ignore his memory. 
 
 Men of letters should remember, too, that 
 Prince Napoleon was himself a writer of some 
 little power. His book entitled, " Napoleon 
 and his Detractors," which was written in reply 
 to a work by M. Taine, is a masterpiece. That 
 circle of gifted minds, of whose companionship 
 he was so fond and so proud, surely owe him 
 respect and admiration. 
 
134 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 In behalf of the general public — that public 
 whose interest was chiefly excited by his final 
 suffering and by that domestic drama which 
 took place at his death-bed — I allude to the 
 moment when Prince Victor asked his father's 
 blessing, and Prince Napoleon, already a dying 
 man, rose on his pillows and cried, " Begone, 
 begone ! " as though he were uttering a fearful 
 anathema — in behalf of this public to whom 
 Prince Napoleon has always appeared in the 
 character of a damned spirit pursued by aven- 
 ging angels, of a sinner driven without the 
 gates of Eden, I repeat that he was a man 
 gifted with all the qualities necessary to a 
 ruler, but became the plaything of an evil fate 
 which forbade the exercise of his powers. He 
 was like the heroes of fairy tales, to whom are 
 given every good gift, but who are made im- 
 potent to use these gifts by the mysterious spell 
 of some malicious genius. 
 
 That evil fate which hung over all his race, 
 over all who bore his name, did not spare Prince 
 Napoleon. With a personal malignity, it even 
 denied him what it gave others, both the crim- 
 son glory of the battle-field which is like the 
 splendour of the heavens at sunset, and the 
 tragic horror of defeat which is like the dark- 
 ness which covers the earth before a cataclysm. 
 
PRINCE N /IPO LEON. 135 
 
 It destined him to mediocrity, and forced him 
 to travel a road which led to no glory. Fate 
 apportioned to this man, in whom was the spirit 
 of an ancient hero and the nature of a Caesar, 
 the existence of an unfortunate modern gentle- 
 man. Chained to the earth, he spread his eagle 
 wings longing for flight, and became an object 
 of ridicule. He was regarded as a kind of mask, 
 fit for the carnival, a poor, painted thing, at 
 which our hearts may well cry out in shame 
 and anger. 
 
1 36 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 TRAGIC SHADOWS. 
 
 Two men filled tragic roles in the Second 
 Empire, and fixed their sinister hopes upon 
 Napoleon III., as the technical traitors of the 
 drama are wont to fix theirs upon some object 
 of hatred. These men are Prince Bismarck and 
 Count Cavour. Two women exercised a fatal 
 influence upon his life and upon his Empire, 
 and these two stand forth in history like one 
 figure with a double face. They rise like living 
 images, on each side of his tomb, evil spirits 
 from the nether world. These women are the 
 Empress Eugenie and the Empress Charlotte of 
 Mexico. While Europe looks on expectant and 
 submissive, Bismarck and Cavour dare to cherish 
 the hope of overthrowing the Emperor. While 
 Europe bends her knee before the magnificence 
 of Napoleon's name — that name in whose syl- 
 lables resound the rebellion and the glory of the 
 century at its birth, in whose syllables ring out 
 the hosannas which shall be sung for victories 
 still to be gained — these men, Bismarck and 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 137 
 
 Cavour, cherish a hope, which, in the eyes of 
 the people, had they known it, could but have 
 appeared extravagant and absurd — the hope, I 
 repeat, of crushing the Emperor. 
 
 While Europe looks on aghast, a woman 
 appears who is jealous of the power and the 
 authority exercised by Napoleon III., and who 
 resolves, without considering the consequences 
 of such a determination, to turn to her own 
 advantage this power and this authority. With 
 no malicious purpose, for this would be too ter- 
 rible an accusation, but rather in a careless 
 unconsciousness of evil, she weaves her meshes 
 round the Emperor's feet ; this woman is the 
 Empress Eug6nie. The Roman venture was a 
 partial realisation of her dreams, dreams from 
 which she woke, at the close of her imperial 
 reign, to find herself bathed in tears and blood. 
 
 A second woman appeared upon this stage, 
 a stage whose background is the great world ; 
 and this woman is the Empress Charlotte. 
 Like a creature just escaped from Eden, she 
 stepped forth radiant in beauty, a woman hardly 
 awakened yet to life and love, bathed in sun- 
 shine and crowned with flowers. She stood 
 there in her nudity, the innocent victim of a 
 danger which she did not recognise, and into 
 the midst of which she was cast by a power not 
 
138 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 her own. The thunderbolt fell, and she still 
 stood upon the great stage, a sad phantom. 
 Like a terrible spectre, she haunted the Em- 
 peror's life and thoughts, a melancholy compan- 
 ion, a vision of sin from which he could not 
 escape. 
 
 Bismarck and Cavour made use of very differ- 
 ent methods in pursuing their policy with Na- 
 poleon III., though it was their common purpose 
 to win, if not his conscious co-operation in their 
 schemes, at least an unacknowledged sympathy 
 with their ideals, which should reflect upon his 
 whole governmental policy. 
 
 Count Bismarck used Napoleon III. as a tool, 
 with which he would, however, dispense when 
 it ceased to be useful ; but he never converted 
 him to his theories. To him the Emperor was 
 a sort of sphinx ; he never felt sure what he 
 might gain from him in the unforeseen course 
 of events. These circumstances, which placed 
 the Emperor in the power of Prince Bismarck, 
 were of greater force in overthrowing Europe 
 than was the personal genius of the Prussian 
 minister. 
 
 Count Cavour pursued a totally opposite 
 course. He knew marvellously well, and with 
 a sort of mathematical precision, what he might 
 expect from one of the Emperor's visionary 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 139 
 
 mind and humanitarian dreams ; and day by day 
 he sought to direct the Emperor's policy into 
 certain well-defined channels. More subtle and 
 less violent than Bismarck, who, with his ogre- 
 like personality and his voice like the growl of a 
 bull-dog, was too apt to inspire fear, Cavour un- 
 derstood Napoleon's nature, and encouraged his 
 aspirations. We may, indeed, safely affirm, if 
 philosophical deductions are permitted, that, had 
 the Emperor been freed from the bonds which 
 united him to Italy, had he felt himself indepen- 
 dent, and unhampered by debt, he would still, 
 at the instigation of Count Cavour, have laboured 
 for the territorial and political emancipation of 
 this nation. When we consider the progressive 
 development which he wished for Italy, and that 
 fine enthusiasm which drew him toward her in 
 the struggle for greatness and unity, it even 
 seems probable that he would have dealt none 
 too gently with the temporal power of the Pope, 
 had he not been checked by fear of the Em- 
 press's wrath, and of a rupture with his habitual 
 counsellors, as well as with the party in power 
 of which he had need for a support which he 
 could not at that time hope to find elsewhere. 
 
 The consolidation of Germany followed that 
 of Italy. In the history of Europe, Prince Bis- 
 marck appears as the corollary of Count Cavour. 
 
140 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Both men sealed the glory of their countries 
 with the blood of France. They divided be- 
 tween themselves the Emperor's spoils, the one 
 storming his heart, the other his mind. Both 
 visited France, though under differing circum- 
 stances ; both received admiration and homage. 
 The beauties of the court welcomed them, 
 courted their smiles, and kept their sayings 
 fresh in the memories. Those young girls 
 even, of humble station, who read hour by hour 
 to the Empress, shared, so one of them has con- 
 fessed, the universal infatuation, and had their 
 dreams, too, of the great men who had passed 
 so near them. 
 
 The Tuileries was at this time possessed by 
 a strange enthusiasm for what is foreign. The 
 courtiers of both sexes were indifferent to every- 
 thing French ; they cared nothing for the mis- 
 eries and the joys of their own country, for the 
 persecution of the masses, or their hopes of 
 freedom ; whereas, for affairs transpiring in dis- 
 tant lands, they professed strong interest and 
 concern, and directed their attention toward 
 them with that inexplicable lack of forethought 
 which is common to ignorant minds. 
 
 M. Cavour appreciated this tendency in the 
 French people even before Prince Bismarck did 
 so, and reaped from it his own harvest. During 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 141 
 
 Prince Bismarck's visit to Biarritz, and later, 
 when in 1867 he came to Paris for the Exposi- 
 tion, and to take part in the imperial apotheosis, 
 after -which the star of the Bonapartes set, he, 
 too, became aware of it, and found therein a 
 powerful advantage. 
 
 I remember a strange legend told me as a 
 child, the legend of a distant country through 
 which there wandered an evil spirit without 
 abode, and which suddenly appeared where 
 it was least expected ; they told me that it 
 haunted wedding-feasts, family reunions, and 
 places of public rejoicing. Its visit was fol- 
 lowed by the ruin or the death of those on 
 whom it had fixed its eye, nor was there any 
 power which could save the victims thus con- 
 demned. 
 
 This story filled me with terror, and I used 
 to hide my head upon the breast of her who 
 told it me. I am reminded of the story now, 
 and not less frightened by it, when I remember 
 how, in 1867, in the midst of laughter and of 
 universal joy, while a hymn proclaiming the 
 glory and the power of the Empire was being 
 sung, while humanity had given itself over to 
 the folly and mad extravagance of love, and 
 kings, with their subjects, feasted and drank 
 together at one gigantic table ; when I remem- 
 
142 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ber, I say, that in the midst of this there 
 rose a man, Prince Bismarck, whom I can but 
 liken to the evil phantom of the legend, a man 
 who fixed his gaze on each object, each human 
 being, and by one sweeping glance brought 
 death upon all. 
 
 The Italian problem had, during the reign of 
 Napoleon III., a genuine though somewhat mis- 
 leading popularity, and is even considered to-day 
 as the brilliant prologue of a national idyl ; so 
 strong is humanity's affection for an object by 
 which it has once been charmed, so untouched 
 is it by the remembrance of harm which has 
 come to it through that object. If we put 
 aside the great Italian struggle, there remain in 
 the history of the Second Empire two forces 
 which exerted a fatal influence upon the Em- 
 peror and his epoch. These were Mexico and 
 Sadowa. 
 
 At the beginning of this chapter I alluded to 
 the unhappy woman in whom the Mexican dis- 
 aster seems to find its synthesis. She passed 
 through Paris, triumphant and joyous, on the 
 way to her new home, filled with pride by her 
 husband's recent glory ; she returned there, as 
 I have already related, as a fugitive, almost as 
 a beggar, an expiatory victim suffering unjustly 
 
TRAGIC SH/1D0IVS. 143 
 
 for the folly — I dare not call it crime — of the 
 Empress Eugenie and Mme. de Metternich. 
 This woman appeared before the Emperor, 
 whom she accused of her sorrows, like a lifeless 
 statue of Despair, like an image of pending 
 judgment. From this hour her memory dwelt 
 with him, an awful companion. 
 
 I have given an account of the terrifying 
 scene which took place at Saint-Cloud in the 
 presence of the whole court, when the first 
 symptoms appeared of the insanity which after- 
 wards attacked this poor woman. 
 
 There is a scene more dramatic than this, 
 whose actors were the Empress Charlotte and 
 the Emperor Napoleon III. It took place some 
 days later at Saint-Cloud, and has a tragic and 
 inexpressible grandeur, a horror infinitely pa- 
 thetic. 
 
 Many times during her stay in Paris the 
 Empress Charlotte had requested an interview 
 with the Emperor, that she might explain to 
 him the motives of her visit to Europe, and 
 plead for the continuance of the support which 
 he had promised her husband, Maximilian, but 
 which he had subsequently withdrawn. 
 
 The Emperor was not ignorant of the char- 
 acter of the interview which she sought ; but he 
 had resolved to relinquish the Mexican cam- 
 
144 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 paign, and to accept its profits and its losses as 
 they had come to him. He therefore evaded 
 as long as possible the supplications of the 
 young Empress, but there came a time at last 
 when he could no longer refuse her audience. 
 
 Under the influence of the Empress Eugenie's 
 enthusiasm, and through the diplomatic intrigues 
 secretly conducted by Mme. de Metternich and 
 officially by the Prince, her husband, Napoleon 
 III. had perhaps himself become convinced that 
 a certain glory would redound to him through 
 this Mexican campaign, by which a monarchy 
 was to be established on American soil. He 
 sustained the campaign, and preserved his faith 
 in its outcome, just so long as the mirage of suc- 
 cess kept his eyes turned away from the actual. 
 When, however, he perceived that the Emperor 
 Maximilian could never win the affection of the 
 Mexicans, who are a people opposed to every 
 foreign element, when, in short, he saw the 
 error into which he had fallen, he withdrew to 
 his tent, and uttered the words of the ancients, 
 aha jacta est. It was not, perhaps, a very 
 generous course of action ; but the logic of gov- 
 ernment is often cruel, and fails to take into 
 consideration generosity and sentiment. 
 
 When, therefore, Napoleon III. granted the 
 Empress Charlotte the audience which she 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS 1 4 5 
 
 awaited with eager anxiety, he had already pre- 
 pared his reply to her arguments, her tears, and 
 her anger. 
 
 Very nervous, very excited, with a half-wild 
 look in her eye, the Empress Charlotte awaited 
 with mingled feelings of hope and fear the 
 arrival of the Emperor. She dared to hope ; 
 because it seemed to her that Napoleon III., 
 after raising a throne for her husband, would 
 be unwilling that the whole work should be 
 destroyed. She could not but fear ; because, 
 by his evasive wprds, his disheartening actions, 
 and the pity which he showed, the sovereign 
 had made her understand that her story had no 
 longer any interest for him. She suffered from 
 hallucinations, and was now again haunted by 
 a fear which had taken possession of her at 
 Saint-Cloud, that of poison which she should be 
 forced to drink. 
 
 When the Emperor was announced, she went 
 forward to meet him, and speedily cut short all 
 preliminaries by introducing immediately the 
 subject which lay so near her heart. 
 
 " Your Majesty is perhaps moved at last," 
 she said, " by the cruel fate which has over- 
 taken my husband. May I hope that your 
 Majesty will grant him assistance ? " 
 
 The Emperor remained silent a moment, 
 
146 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 then spoke with an accent of great deference 
 and of sincere regret. 
 
 " My action in Mexico, Madame," he replied, 
 " is at an end, and I cannot renew it. Were I 
 inclined myself to do so, my government and 
 the Chambers would oppose such a course." 
 
 "You are Emperor, sire." 
 
 " I am Emperor, madame, and my commands 
 are respected and obeyed when they are in har- 
 mony with the glory and the interests of France ; 
 but " — he became much excited — "I shall not 
 use the power of Emperor to plunge my coun- 
 try into imminent danger, into an interminable 
 war from which France could gain nothing." 
 
 "A short time ago, sire, you spoke differ- 
 ently." 
 
 "A short time ago, madame, I had hope." 
 
 " Ah, you had hope ? " 
 
 " Hope that Maximilian would avail himself 
 of the assistance which I gave him, and win the 
 love of the people ; that he would learn to un- 
 derstand their needs and their natures, and be 
 able to carry on by himself the work which we 
 began together." 
 
 " And now? " 
 
 " Now I have no longer this hope." 
 
 The Empress shuddered, rose, and took one 
 or two steps across the great room ; then she 
 passed her hand over her forehead. 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS 147 
 
 "This is terrible," she muttered, "terrible." 
 
 Once more she seated herself near the Em- 
 peror and resumed the conversation. 
 
 " Sire," she said, in a supplicating voice, 
 " Sire, it is said that you are kind, that your 
 heart is touched by those who are in misfor- 
 tune. My husband and I are both victims of 
 misfortune ; have pity, therefore, upon him and 
 me. I implore you, sire, give us your support, 
 and our hearts will love and bless you." 
 
 She took the Emperor's hand, and brought it 
 to her lips as she stooped to kneel. Napoleon 
 III., however, checked this movement, and, full 
 of compassion, bent over the woman who sup- 
 plicated him. 
 
 " You speak, Madame," he said, touching her 
 fingers with his lips, " as though your husband 
 were in danger. It lies with him to avoid this 
 danger. Let him retreat with my troops, and 
 leave behind him the dream of an empire ; it 
 was an unfortunate dream." 
 
 The Empress Charlotte drew herself up with 
 pride. 
 
 " What is this, sire ? " she exclaimed. " You 
 counsel my husband to fly, to commit an act of 
 dishonour and of cowardice ? " 
 
 "A general, madame, is guilty of neither 
 cowardice nor dishonour when, after having 
 
148 N/iPOLEON III. 
 
 lost a battle, he capitulates. Is not the Em- 
 peror Maximilian in the position of a defeated 
 general ? Let him act, therefore, as such a gen- 
 eral would. Fine phrases have little sense or 
 utility. You are suffering, madame ; you are 
 much unstrung. I pray you calm yourself." 
 
 The Empress had risen, and was no longer 
 listening. " Never," she cried, with growing 
 enthusiasm, " never will Maximilian accept such 
 proposals. He will never seek escape, never 
 turn his back to the rebels who try to rob him 
 of his crown. No, he will, if necessary, die for 
 the cause which he' has espoused and I will die 
 with him." 
 
 Again the Emperor spoke. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " I beg you to examine 
 more coolly the arguments which I have pre- 
 sented, and the advice which I have given. 
 The Emperor Maximilian's future and your own 
 depend upon your doing so." 
 
 Still the young Empress stood there, gaz- 
 ing, it seemed, into space, or at some danger 
 visible to herself alone ; she had no appearance 
 of listening to Napoleon's words, her lips were 
 moving as though murmuring some chant. 
 
 " He will die, he will die, and I shall die with 
 him. They will put us into the same tomb ; we 
 shall lie there together, and we shall love each 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 149 
 
 other, love each other still, despite the cruelty 
 of man. We shall be exalted, and the future 
 shall sing our glory." 
 
 The Emperor made a movement of dismay 
 and alarm. He remembered the attack from 
 which the Empress Charlotte had suffered at 
 Saint-Cloud, and he feared a similar one now. 
 He touched her arm gently, and made her sit 
 down. She obeyed unconsciously, and gazed at 
 him for some moments with no sign of recogni- 
 tion in her manner, and then seemed suddenly 
 to recover herself. 
 
 "Ah, you are the Emperor Napoleon III.," 
 she said at last, "that all-powerful Emperor 
 who raised my husband to a throne ; and I 
 am a wretched woman who implores mercy 
 for a victim who you have condemned." 
 
 Her voice then changed, and assumed a tone 
 of severity. 
 
 " You have, then, made your final decision ? " 
 she added. "You will leave us to our own 
 resources with no hope of assistance from 
 you ? " 
 
 " I have told you, madame," replied he, awak- 
 ened to a consciousness of his painful position, 
 " I have told you that I have no longer power 
 to assist the Emperor Maximilian." 
 
 A second time she rose ; standing motion- 
 
150 NAPOLEON III 
 
 less, she fixed her sad and earnest eyes on Na- 
 poleon III., who, embarrassed by her gaze and 
 by a kind of magnetic influence which resulted 
 from it, bowed his head. Suddenly, and with- 
 out having spoken a word, the Empress Char- 
 lotte became desperate, and threw herself upon 
 her knees at the Emperor's feet ;' and before he 
 could check her passionate supplication, she 
 clasped her hands and pleaded with him as 
 the faithful plead with their God in whom is 
 their last hope. 
 
 " Sire," she said, and the tones of her voice 
 were like caresses, " Sire, the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian has enemies in that country, enemies 
 who do not know what it is to forgive. Un- 
 supported, he is powerless against them and 
 must become their victim. I have taken this 
 journey to save him ; he awaits my return with 
 loving impatience, with the anxiety, too, of a 
 condemned man who counts the hours which 
 separate him from death. Sire, you have loved ; 
 surely the remembrance of your happiness must 
 open your heart and mind to the feelings of 
 others. I love my husband, sire, and he loves 
 me ; we are everything to each other. I en- 
 treat you to have mercy upon him and me. 
 I entreat you not to sacrifice him to the pride 
 of a rebellious people. From him who more 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 151 
 
 than once has granted life to the criminal, I, 
 sire, dare entreat the life of an honest man, the 
 life of the Emperor Maximilian." 
 
 The wretched woman paused, exhausted ; a 
 great sob shook her frame. She had put her 
 whole soul into her prayer ; she collapsed with its 
 last words. 
 
 Gently the Emperor sought to raise her and 
 to offer some consolation. He felt that this 
 heart-rending scene was prolonging itself use- 
 lessly, and hastened to bring it to a close. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " I will do all that lies in 
 my power to secure the safety of, and the 
 happiness of, both yourself and your husband ; 
 but I cannot, alas ! deceive you as to the atti- 
 tude of my government in this affair. France 
 will no longer support Maximilian on the throne 
 of Mexico." 
 
 He had hardly spoken these words when he 
 started back in horror. Empress Charlotte had 
 risen, one may better say leaped, to her feet, 
 and stood tall and majestic before Napoleon 
 III. Her lips were drawn, and her look was 
 that of a mad woman, at once terrible, and 
 superbly beautiful. Thus facing him, she flung 
 out her words of despair, of fury, and of hatred. 
 
 "Sire," she cried, "it is said that you are 
 good ; it is a lie ! It is said, sire, that you are 
 
152 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a magnanimous sovereign ; it is a lie ! It is 
 said that you are great ; it, too, is a lie ! You 
 are, sire, an evil man. You are an Emperor 
 without authority ; a ruler without ideals. You 
 are ruthless fate, and we are your victims. You 
 are the author of evil ; you favour its existence. 
 Evil, however, returns to its source ; it will 
 find you, sire, and at no distant time. You 
 and your throne shall be swept away by a 
 mighty force which you do not understand ! " 
 
 Her frenzy increased as she spoke, and finally 
 took full possession of her. She stretched out 
 her arms with a wild gesture. 
 
 "Move back," she cried three times, "move 
 back, move back ! Sire," she then added, " it 
 is my turn to say that nothing more may be 
 expected of you." 
 
 The Emperor had risen as though struck by 
 a thunderbolt. For a moment he had been 
 filled with anger by the violence of the young 
 Empress ; but looking upon her despair, he had 
 forgiven her wild language, and calmed the feel- 
 ing of rage which had taken possession of him. 
 It was seldom that the Emperor's anger was 
 aroused, but when it was it knew no bounds. 
 In this instance, however, he recovered self- 
 control, and listened without a word, without a 
 gesture, to the imprecations and the curses 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 153 
 
 which were flung at him. When at last Em- 
 press Charlotte, in the final climax of her 
 despair, drove him from the room, he bowed 
 his head in profound commiseration and with- 
 drew. 
 
 When once more within the palace, he re- 
 tired to his own apartments and forbade admit- 
 tance. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon III. feared the ful- 
 filment of these evil prophecies, and was much 
 disquieted by the words of the woman who had 
 thus foretold his doom. It was a relief to find 
 himself alone, and able to look calmly forward 
 into the future. Who knows but that, by an 
 effort of the imagination, that future seemed 
 still to smile upon him ? Who knows but that, 
 in the terror of his soul, he, in that hour, saw 
 the star of the Bonapartes begin to set ? 
 
 The events which preceded and which fol- 
 lowed the disaster at Sadowa are of a less 
 personal nature, and belong more properly to 
 politics so called. 
 
 On two occasions, both in 1864 and 1865, 
 Prince Bismarck conferred with the Emperor 
 Napoleon III. upon the existing state of affairs 
 in Europe and upon the advantages to be de- 
 rived therefrom. Neither of these audiences, 
 
154 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 however, whose purpose was to bring about 
 an understanding with the Cabinet of the Tui- 
 leries, met with results favourable to a united 
 action between France and Prussia against 
 their neighbours. 
 
 In 1864 Bismarck attempted to soothe the 
 disappointment and the uneasiness which the 
 defeat in Denmark had caused Napoleon III. 
 He returned to Berlin, having succeeded fairly 
 well in his mission, and able to bring back the 
 assurance that France would at least allow 
 events to have their course without, for the 
 moment, intervening. 
 
 After his visit to Biarritz in 1865, Bismarck 
 felt less confidence in the Emperor's neutrality. 
 His previous interview with the sovereign had 
 encouraged the hope that he could without 
 much difficulty secure him as an ally in the 
 cause which he had espoused. The Emperor, 
 however, maintained a questionable position, 
 made but a few comments on the general pros- 
 perity of European nations, and refused abso- 
 lutely to commit himself. I have related 
 elsewhere the conversation between Bismarck 
 and Count Walewski, after the famous visit 
 in Biarritz. As a result of this conversation, 
 Prince Bismarck ceased altogether to regard 
 Napoleon III. as a power upon which they 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. I 5 5 
 
 might rely for assistance. As soon as he be- 
 gan to consider the Emperor a person whose 
 influence could be turned to no advantage, he 
 immediately became in his eyes an obstacle in 
 the way of his own policy, of which it would 
 be well to get rid. Prince Bismarck's efforts 
 with the Emperor were, as we know, renewed, 
 and with better success, by M. de Goltz. 
 
 It now became important that Napoleon III. 
 should bring about an understanding between 
 Austria and the Cabinet at Paris in regard to 
 the Italian question, by which the complete in- 
 dependence of Italy should be secured. This 
 was a time in which to realise without blood- 
 shed the famous words once pronounced by Na- 
 poleon III. in the interest of the Italian people : 
 " Free," he had said, " to the very shores of the 
 Adriatic." 
 
 Victor Emmanuel, voluntarily or involuntarily, 
 did not allow the Emperor to carry very far the 
 negotiations which he had begun through the 
 mediation of Prince Metternich. Solicited by 
 Prussia, he pledged himself in case of a disa- 
 greement between the Cabinet at Vienna and 
 that of Berlin, to declare war with Austria. 
 This secret treaty, made known at Vienna by an 
 act of indiscretion on the part of the govern- 
 ment, put an end to all conciliatory negotiations. 
 
I 56 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Austria felt its security threatened, although 
 it had given every proof of good will in the 
 affairs which were now agitating Europe, and 
 had declared itself desirous to settle them 
 peacefully. It therefore abandoned all parley- 
 ing, and intrenched itself behind what it called 
 its rights, that final argument which savours of 
 war and which all nations urge in the hours 
 of political crises. 
 
 It was at this time that Prince Bismarck, 
 fearing the effect of these international prob- 
 lems upon the policy of Napoleon III., invented 
 as an hypothesis the annexation of Luxemburg 
 and of Belgium to France, as a compensation 
 for his neutrality and a balancing wheel to his 
 power. It must, however, be stated that the 
 Emperor never seriously considered these prop- 
 ositions, and was uninfluenced by them on the 
 eve of the Austro-Prussian conflict. 
 
 The Emperor, who was opposed to war, 
 found himself placed in a most trying posi- 
 tion. Face to face with the disagreement be- 
 tween the Cabinets of Berlin and of Austria, it 
 was impossible for him to check the bloody con- 
 sequences of that disagreement without himself 
 taking a positive stand, and making it clear to 
 Prussia that he desired no European war. This 
 would have been an extreme policy, exempt 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS 157 
 
 from all subterfuge and all intrigue ; it would 
 have been a bold game, but it did not impress 
 Napoleon III. as compatible with the authority 
 which he had assumed ; for, if his ultimatum 
 should in this case be treated with scorn, there 
 would remain but one course for him to pursue, 
 that of exchanging his role of counsellor for 
 that of belligerent. 
 
 Subsequent events have proved that the Em- 
 peror should not have hesitated to enter into 
 war with Prussia. We are, however, never able 
 to judge fairly of a circumstance till that cir- 
 cumstance is past ; it is futile to philosophise 
 upon possible results of a course which might 
 have been pursued, but which, nevertheless, was 
 not the one chosen. 
 
 Should a war between Austria and Prussia 
 become inevitable, there were at least two con- 
 sequences which must result therefrom, in 
 which the Emperor had every reason to rejoice ; 
 these were the confirmation and organisation of 
 Italy's independence, and the weakened power 
 of Austria and of Prussia ; this last result would 
 procure for Europe a long season of peace, and 
 permit France, not only to collect her forces, but 
 to prepare without interruption for future compli- 
 cations which were almost sure to arise through 
 the agency of Bismarck's troublesome genius. 
 
158 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 The Emperor's arguments seemed to be of 
 the strongest ; and he was regarded by the peo- 
 ple as their supreme mediator, as the builder of 
 their future destinies. 
 
 Public opinion was, in 1866, after the Aus- 
 trian defeat at Sadowa, entirely in sympathy 
 with the Emperor ; it was indeed even more 
 violent than he in the expressions of an unre- 
 flecting hatred of Austria and a childish en- 
 thusiasm for Prussia and its needle-guns. The 
 Emperor was, therefore, urged by public opinion 
 to pursue the course which he had adopted, and 
 forced by it to maintain his attitude of arbiter 
 in this problem which involved, in reality, the 
 reconstruction of European policy. 
 
 Among the politicians who at this time sur- 
 rounded the Emperor, there were those who 
 did not feel the same assurance, or see in the 
 violent development of events the same cause of 
 satisfaction, as did the people at large. Some 
 counselled him not to settle, by a Solomon-like 
 judgment, the conflict which had broken out at 
 Sadowa. Others advised him to arrest Prus- 
 sia's encroachment upon the whole of Germany, 
 to check her demands, and, in case his arbitra- 
 tion were not successful, to take up a position 
 on the Rhine. Others felt that the role of 
 arbiter which was offered the Emperor gave 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 159 
 
 sufficient dignity to the attitude of France in 
 this matter, but would, nevertheless, have wished 
 the Cabinet in Paris to require, as conditions of 
 peace, guarantees from Prussia against the re- 
 turn of present difficulties and against the disas- 
 trous results of that ever-increasing influence 
 which her victories throughout Europe secured 
 to her. The scheme for the annexation of Bel- 
 gium having been set aside, it now became 
 necessary to formulate the demands which 
 should be presented to Berlin. 
 
 The Emperor, still pursuing the ideal of the 
 unity of nations, and cherishing those human- 
 itarian dreams which were its natural fruit, 
 made few remonstrances against the project for 
 Germany's unification, a project which, never- 
 theless, was not without its disturbing compli- 
 cations. It was decided that no objection 
 should be made to this unification, and that 
 France should simply present to Berlin the 
 claims made by the Cabinet of the Tuileries 
 in its own interest. 
 
 These claims were formulated as follows : The 
 reinstatement of French boundaries as defined 
 in the clauses adopted by the Powers in 1 8 1 4 ; 
 the annexation of Luxemburg and of Mayence, 
 and the preservation of the kingdom of Saxony 
 in its entirety. It was decreed that Count Ben- 
 
l6o NAPOLEON III. 
 
 edetti, our ambassador in Berlin, should be 
 charged to support these claims, and to sub- 
 mit them to the consideration of Prince Bis- 
 marck. 
 
 When Count Benedetti, charged with instruc- 
 tions from the Cabinet of the Tuileries, arrived 
 from Vienna, where he had explained to the- 
 Emperor Francis Joseph the humiliating con- 
 ditions of peace and presented himself before 
 Bismarck, the Prussian minister was billeted at 
 the King's headquarters in a small town on the 
 way to Vienna. An armistice had been arranged 
 in order that negotiations could be pursued, and 
 the Prussian army was awaiting the results of 
 this armistice, ready at any moment to resume 
 its march against the Austrian capital. 
 
 Count Benedetti found Prince Bismarck fa- 
 vourably disposed toward his mission ; he made 
 known to the Prussian minister the result of his 
 visit in Vienna, and said that he had found the 
 Emperor Francis Joseph, though not prepared 
 to yield his position entirely, yet resigned to 
 a cessation of hostilities under the conditions 
 which have already been stated ; the confedera- 
 tion, that is, of the northern states of Germany 
 independently of the authority of Austria, and 
 the surrender of Venice to France, which nation 
 would cede it to King Victor Emmanuel. 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. l6l 
 
 Bismarck was much encouraged by this suc- 
 cess, and the interview would have been in every 
 way most friendly had Count Benedetti spoken 
 only of the conditions just enumerated. When, 
 however, our ambassador made it clear to his 
 interlocutor that France required as a recom- 
 pense for her share in the disintegration of 
 Europe, and for her absolute neutrality, the 
 annexations of which I have spoken, and the 
 guarantee of her own security in the future, 
 Prince Bismarck's joy was somewhat abated. 
 With his impulsive temperament, and that in- 
 stinctive violence which he had never been 
 able to conquer, Bismarck assumed an indig- 
 nant attitude before the claims presented by 
 Count Benedetti, resented his demands, and 
 replied that he could not pronounce upon 
 them without first consulting the king. In a 
 moment, however, he resumed his character of 
 diplomat. 
 
 " It is difficult," he added, in a most suave 
 manner, and with that smile again upon his lips 
 which a moment ago had disappeared, " it is 
 difficult to discuss at one time every item in- 
 volved in so serious a matter ; there is ample 
 opportunity for satisfactory arrangements to be 
 made, and I have no doubt that our views, will 
 be in perfect harmony." 
 
1 62 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 Having received these vague and halting 
 assurances, Count Benedetti withdrew. 
 
 When, a short time after this interview, our 
 ambassador was able to report to the Emperor 
 the partial failure of his mission, it was already 
 too late to subdue the pride of Prussia, and to 
 impose upon it the conditions supplementary to 
 peace, for which it had at one time stipulated. 
 
 Bismarck, who knew how to make the best 
 use of time, had, in the interim, secretly en- 
 listed the sympathy of various states with the 
 new political regime which he was about to 
 establish ; and these states, which a few days 
 before had stood in the relation of belligerents 
 against Prussia, now declared themselves satis- 
 fied with the conditions set forth in the treaty 
 of peace which had been submitted to them. 
 It is probable that they would have rebelled 
 against the renewal of a war which had already 
 weakened their power ; but the prospect of 
 obtaining the privileges and the glory of a 
 separate nationality did not appear to them 
 altogether undesirable. They had, on the other 
 hand, nothing to gain by a war with France, 
 and would not readily have consented to it. 
 
 It was upon an intimate knowledge of these 
 facts that Bismarck relied in concluding peace 
 with Austria. The Cabinet of the Tuileries, 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 163 
 
 however, failed to appreciate them, and neg- 
 lected to assert its claims in the imperative 
 manner which circumstances required. 
 
 Prussia having by a hasty peace freed itself 
 from Austria, and intrenched itself behind a 
 national power as strong as German pride could 
 demand, now directed hostilities against France, 
 and refused absolutely to accede to the proposi- 
 tions presented by the Cabinet of the Tuileries, 
 as formulated for the second time by Count 
 Benedetti. She even declined to discuss these 
 propositions, or to permit any annexation to 
 our territory or any change in our existing 
 borders. 
 
 These new complications produced great con- 
 sternation in the political world of France. It 
 was as though the Tuileries had been struck by 
 the first blast of a mighty storm, which had 
 awakened those who were sleeping in peaceful 
 oblivion ; it was like one of those squalls which 
 spring up in open sea, and toss vessels hither 
 and thither, sweep their decks, and fill with 
 terror the hearts of those on board. 
 
 There was, however, no time to be lost in the 
 expression of fruitless fear. It was important 
 that prompt resolutions should be taken ; and 
 the Emperor, who a few weeks previously had 
 opposed war, was now made uneasy by the 
 
1 64 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 state of affairs, and felt that the welfare and 
 the dignity of France depended on decisive 
 action. He therefore recalled Count Benedetti, 
 who hastened directly to Paris. 
 
 Prussia had granted our demands no con- 
 sideration whatever, and it became necessary 
 to determine immediately upon our course. 
 
 The period which now approached was full 
 of ill omen, full of tragic possibilities, and is 
 memorable in the life of Napoleon III. as one 
 of the most crucial periods of his reign, as the 
 beginning of a long moral agony. 
 
 He was urged by the minister of foreign affairs 
 to declare war against Prussia, even at the risk 
 of incurring the hostility of united Germany, 
 and of seeing Austria abandon his cause, and 
 watch, impassive, the defeat of France ; at the 
 risk, too, of being forgotten by Italy, which was 
 covering itself with laurels easily won, and which, 
 in the strength of its unforeseen success, — a 
 success born of defeat, — was already becom- 
 ing indifferent to the policy of Napoleon III. 
 Urged, therefore, by M. Drouyn de Lhuys to 
 declare war against Prussia, without waiting to 
 strengthen his resources, which had been ex- 
 hausted, or nearly so, by recent campaigns, the 
 Emperor Napoleon III., under the influence of 
 his own anger and of the indignation excited 
 
TRAGIC SHADOIVS. 165 
 
 in him by the treachery of Prussia, resolved to 
 march upon the Rhineland. 
 
 When, however, he gave the command to pre- 
 pare for war, when he communicated his inten- 
 tions to his counsellors and to the captains of his 
 army he was brought to a startling realisation 
 of public sentiment upon the question. 
 
 A sudden terror had taken possession of those 
 round him. Politicians shook their heads, and 
 muttered that France, not in reality seriously 
 threatened, was, on account of a little wounded 
 pride, entering a campaign which involved the 
 heaviest risks. Military men discussed the 
 question among themselves, and were at vari- 
 ance as to the possible results of such an 
 enterprise. 
 
 Our armament was compared with that which 
 Prussia had recently had an opportunity to test ; 
 it seemed doubtful whether our forces would be 
 able to resist a probable invasion. A committee 
 was appointed to examine the military condition 
 of France as opposed to that of Prussia, before 
 a definite conclusion should be reached ; and the 
 Emperor inferred from this action that his coun- 
 sellors feared the responsibility of advising war, 
 and evaded his appeal. 
 
 He stood alone — alone with his faith in some 
 kind providence, abandoned by the rightful sup- 
 
1 66 NAPOLEON 111 
 
 porters of his throne and of his dynasty ; alone 
 in all France, which he was about to involve 
 in war against Germany. He did not dare take 
 upon himself the responsibility of an action 
 upon whose results depended the glory or the 
 dishonour of his country ; and bowing his head 
 in the humiliation of defeated hope, he resigned 
 himself to inaction, with a bitter sense of disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 It was, however, agreed that the position in 
 which France was placed by the sudden devel- 
 opment of Prussia's power required the nation 
 at least to feign an unity of sentiment, and to 
 direct its attention toward means whereby the 
 triumph of its claims might at no distant day 
 be assured. 
 
 Henceforth, however, claims and victories 
 were little talked of. The Emperor Napoleon 
 III. was doomed to drift as does a wreck which 
 is driven from shore to shore, and which is cast 
 upon many a reef before it disappears forever 
 into the depths of some great sea. 
 
 One glorious hour was, it is true, given 
 him ; one hour of peace and consolation, the 
 hour, we might almost say, of his apotheosis. 
 The hosannas and the Te Deum of 1867 were 
 heard in the distance like the low tones of an 
 
TRAGIC SHADOWS. 167 
 
 hymn, like the full, rich harmonies which fill 
 the great vaulting of a cathedral ; they were 
 heard, too, with the noise of victory, ringing 
 with the notes of wild triumph, like those which 
 in the silence of night seem to pass from flag 
 to flag in the idle arsenal — those flags which 
 are never for a moment motionless, but ever 
 wave their tattered colours, eternal emblems of 
 a nation's glory, and also of the dire hatred of 
 man under the smoke of battle. The hosannas 
 and the Te Deum of 1867 rose in their loud 
 strains of praise toward the star of the Bona- 
 partes, as of old the thoughts and the eyes 
 of the Magi were raised to the wonderful star 
 of Bethlehem. Claims and triumphs, however, 
 were henceforth silenced. Through hymns of 
 rejoicing broke the discord of a lie; the star 
 of the Bonapartes was about to set, the Em- 
 peror to perish, a desolate spirit, alone in all 
 Europe. To him whose heart was full of kindly 
 interest for all humanity, no affection was given ; 
 to him who knew so well how to love, no love 
 was given. He died without a nation, he who 
 had ruled one of the greatest nations of the 
 earth. 
 
1 68 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 V. 
 THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 
 
 The Second Empire, both during its period 
 of autocracy and during that of liberal govern- 
 ment, awakened in the nation a spirit of impla- 
 cable hatred, which no circumstances served to 
 lessen ; and this hatred was born and bred in 
 the salons. I have, in my volume entitled " The 
 Empress Eugdnie," and also in " The Court of 
 Napoleon III.," alluded to the animosity felt 
 by the leaders of the Faubourg Saint-Germain 
 toward Napoleon III. These dislikes and pre- 
 judices, which the Emperor, in his excessive 
 generosity, feigned to ignore, will be dealt with 
 more fully in the present chapter. 
 
 It was, perhaps, during its period of autoc- 
 racy that the Empire had most to suffer from 
 the salons ; in them were nourished the doc- 
 trines of absolutism and of aristocratic forms of 
 government, though they hypocritically affected 
 great sympathy with the republican opposition ; 
 the warfare which they waged against the Tui- 
 leries was continuous and without mercy. 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 1 69 
 
 There were, during the reign of Napoleon III., 
 various distinct parties opposed to the existing 
 government ; without entering into too minute 
 analysis, we may at least recognise three such 
 parties, which were animated by totally diverse 
 principles, but united in their onslaught against 
 the common enemy. 
 
 There were staunch royalists, disciples of the 
 Comte de Chambord ; there were the Orleanists, 
 who maintained the claims of the exiled sons of 
 Louis Philippe ; and there were also the repub- 
 licans. 
 
 The royalist party was led principally by 
 women, and gave expression to a rather negative 
 opposition by assuming an attitude of scorn 
 toward the Emperor, the Empress, and all the 
 court. The Faubourg Saint-Germain is not 
 wont to express its sentiments in vigorous 
 action ; a general appearance of activity satis- 
 fies its aspirations. In this instance it took 
 refuge in the customs and the etiquette peculiar 
 to itself, and in the regulation of its own enjoy- 
 ments. Accounts of all proceedings at the 
 Tuileries were received by it with most expres- 
 sive frowns and pouts, which, however, were not 
 dangerous. The women, in the strength of 
 their recently emblazoned heraldry, set the ex- 
 ample of these frowns and pouts as they mur- 
 
170 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 mured, with all the sanctified manner of priests 
 pronouncing holy orisons at the altar, the word, 
 king. The men speedily adapted their views to 
 those held by the fairer sex. 
 
 The comparative respect shown the Emperor 
 and his family, and especially to the young 
 Prince Imperial, by Comte de Chambord, as 
 well as this nobleman's hatred against the 
 princes of Orleans, caused great annoyance to 
 the royalist opposition. If among the legiti- 
 mist party, there were some who regretted such 
 respect and consideration, they nevertheless 
 acceded to it in public, and consoled them- 
 selves in private by directing against the Em- 
 peror and his court that ridicule which originated 
 in Coblentz. Their spirit was that of the 
 tmigrte who made Robespierre the object of 
 their wit. It was not a novel game, nor was its 
 humour the most subtle ; it smelt of Spanish to- 
 bacco, of the musty face-powder worn by a ball- 
 room dame ; and it was not alarming. In short, 
 the royalist opposition under the Second Em- 
 pire had in it less of political conviction than of 
 social sulkiness ; and the Faubourg Saint-Ger- 
 main, in assuming opposition to the Tuileries, 
 gave expression to an extreme elegance, rather 
 than to any high principles of government. 
 
 The relations, therefore, between the court 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 171 
 
 and the Faubourg Saint-Germain were most 
 peaceable. The Emperor kept himself informed 
 concerning the exigencies of the royalist aris- 
 tocracy, and was not ignorant of its tottering 
 position ; he quieted its claims by granting to 
 those whom he felt would be appeased thereby 
 favours and government positions with large 
 salaries, without requiring such persons to aban- 
 don their convictions. He invited to various 
 entertainments at the Tuileries those high-born 
 women who were eager to see once more, if 
 only for a moment, the palace which they had 
 never ceased to consider their rightful property. 
 
 It must be admitted that the men who distin- 
 guished themselves under the Second Empire 
 always maintained a deferential and a submis- 
 sive attitude, and were guilty of no breach of 
 courtesy. The women, on the other hand, lack- 
 ing in all sense of honour, envious of the radiant 
 beauty of the Empress, embittered because they 
 were given but a secondary place where they 
 would have wished to be mistresses, these 
 women, I say, who were by nature malicious, 
 and envious by instinct, preserved their dis- 
 like of the imperial family despite the kindness 
 shown them, and issued from the Tuileries with 
 derision on their lips and anger in their hearts. 
 
 In the intimate circle of their friends and rela- 
 
172 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 tions they delighted to parody the conversation 
 and the gestures of the Empress and her court. 
 Such recognition as this of a truly delightful 
 hospitality is certainly open to criticism. Had 
 self-respecting plebeians been guilty of it, they 
 would have met with severe criticism from the 
 very classes which, as it was, committed the 
 offence ; high-bred women of the aristocracy, 
 however, were greeted with praise for their wit 
 and intelligence. 
 
 From time to time, in order that the royalist 
 opposition should maintain a sort of dignity and 
 seriousness, a duke, a marquis, or a count of 
 good repute in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, 
 would leave Paris in the character of conspir- 
 ator, and hold conference with the king at 
 Frohsdorff or at Goritz. The best way in 
 which to conduct such interviews was carefully 
 considered in the Faubourg, and its probable 
 results discussed there with all the grace and 
 courtesy of long ago. After the nobleman who 
 had been charged with such a mission returned 
 to Paris, bringing with him that letter which 
 Comte de Chambord never failed to write on 
 such occasions, a letter in which he thanked 
 the messenger for his faithfulness, recom- 
 mended him to the gratitude of his co-workers, 
 and expressed his faith in the future, there was 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 173 
 
 an unusual stir in the aristocracy ; heavy car- 
 riages rolled through the streets drawn by horses 
 caparisoned with armorial bearings, and for a few 
 days Paris thought less of the Tuileries and more 
 of the splendour of times long passed. 
 
 These supernumerary roles and parts for 
 comic heroes were well adapted to the members 
 of the aristocracy under the Second Empire ; 
 great enjoyment was found in them, and the 
 Faubourg Saint-Germain had no wish to change 
 these pleasures for more perilous enterprises. 
 Caring little for the true interests of the coun- 
 try, they were at heart indifferent to the form 
 of government established ; their thought, their 
 aspiration, their ideal, was but concerned with 
 the decorative element of the attitude assumed 
 by them. 
 
 The Comte de Chambord was in harmony 
 with their views on this point, and the princess 
 whom he had married sought in every way 
 to establish their aesthetic position. 
 
 I once had occasion to give a little sketch 
 of the Comte and Comtesse de Chambord ; and, 
 believing my criticism to be in the main just, 
 I beg permission to repeat it here. 
 
 " The Comtesse de Chambord," I wrote, "who was an 
 Italian married to a French prince, exerted a fatal in- 
 fluence upon the spirit of European society ; she not only 
 
174 N/1POLEON III. 
 
 had strong power over her husband, but more than once 
 interfered with the policy of France, both in its internal re- 
 lations and in those with other countries. Anti-French in 
 birth and feeling, she did not at all modify her prejudice 
 when she married Comte de Chambord. This animosity 
 was displayed in the most trifling concerns of life as well 
 as in the momentous affairs of government. Possessing, 
 as she did, complete power over her husband, she was 
 able to conceal his true views. Thus blinded and de- 
 ceived, this pitiable king without a crown obeyed her, 
 regardless of the good or evil which might result there- 
 from. Much has been said concerning the noble life of 
 Comte de Chambord, and many are the flowers of elo- 
 quence strewn before his memory. From a literary 
 standpoint rhetoric is certainly fine, but it becomes ob- 
 jectionable in politics when it is but the expression of 
 hypocrisy. The true cause of the admiration felt for 
 Comte de Chambord is the fact that no one feared him. 
 He was, in reality, a kind of heathen prophet, a god 
 Buddha, a selfish man who preserved toward the inter- 
 ests of his country an haughty indifference ; there is for 
 him but one excuse, and this is brain weakness ; he re- 
 ceived impressions whose consequences he had no power 
 to measure. He was a kind of king's effigy, a miserable 
 man, occasionally arrayed, by his wife's orders, in the 
 emblems of power ; nourished by the delight of a barren 
 dream, he lived on, a pitiable character, having accom- 
 plished nothing in his own interest or in that of the 
 country which, in theory, he pretended to love and 
 govern ; he died, having bequeathed nothing to humanity 
 or to history, not even that commonplace example of 
 courage which has distinguished every other claimant to 
 the throne, every other hero disowned by his nation." 
 
 There is a fact which should be noted in 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 175 
 
 regard to the opposition of the royalist salons 
 under the Second Empire. Though this op- 
 position had no effect on the internal policy of 
 the Emperor, its influence upon his foreign 
 policy was most disastrous. Through its rela- 
 tions with foreign diplomacy, the legitimist 
 party had a large share in bringing about many 
 disturbing events during the Second Empire, 
 and can with difficulty exculpate itself. Led 
 by the Comtesse de Chambord, this party con- 
 tinually opposed the imperial plans, and waged 
 unceasing war against the Cabinet of the Tui- 
 leries. On one occasion, to cite an example of 
 its mode of action, it obtained from Prince 
 Metternich and the Austrian government a 
 fatal interposition in the Roman question, and 
 made use of this, and of the religious fanaticism 
 of the Empress, as well as of its own authority, 
 against the decisions of Napoleon III. 
 
 That noble feeling of patriotism by which a 
 nation is exalted, by which it is led to the ruin 
 or to the cruel glory of war, that high senti- 
 ment which fills all true hearts, did not exist 
 among the politicians of the day or among 
 the representatives of the aristocracy. To pol- 
 iticians, France was but a great table round 
 which they gathered to play their game ; they 
 threw down their cards with reference to a 
 
176 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 certain stake, as a gambler throws down his 
 with an eye on the heap of gold before him. 
 The aristocracy, to whatever country it may 
 belong, regards patriotism as a kind of sport. 
 It is a bond between its members, be tbey 
 French, English, German, Italian, or Russian, 
 a bond which, like that of the Freemasons, for- 
 bids hatred. The aristocracy fights no less 
 valiantly upon the battle-field than do the 
 soldiers, yet a different ideal is ever before 
 it. It goes to war as it goes to the races, 
 and falls as willingly under a ball, a bullet, or 
 a stroke of the sabre, while wrapped in the 
 national colours, as it falls in the race-course 
 while taking a hurdle, arrayed in its costume of 
 jockey. Born and bred at a great distance 
 from the people, the aristocracy cannot feel 
 with the people ; but as in the supreme mo- 
 ments of life, its acts are like those of the 
 whole mass of humanity, it is not well to cast 
 too much reproach on that somewhat original 
 philosophy which is peculiar to itself. 
 
 The Comte de Chambord was king of this 
 world, which, I repeat, we do wrong to condemn 
 and to stigmatise before having studied and un- 
 derstood. He shared neither the virtues nor the 
 defects of his race, but was an alien, an ingraft- 
 ment as it were, upon a different species of 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 177 
 
 tree, whose branches are unlike those of the 
 tree itself. He was not, however, without re- 
 finement and kindly feeling, nor can we justly 
 condemn him as a man altogether without 
 noble sentiments. There is cause to believe 
 that he disliked his mock-kingship of an idle 
 aristocracy, an aristocracy unwilling to abandon 
 the faultless conventionality of its convictions, 
 and that decorum in which was no peril or dis- 
 quieting element. 
 
 The salons of the Orleanists caused more 
 annoyance to the government than did those 
 of the Legitimist party. The former were not 
 content to express vague theories, but held 
 serious doctrines, and gave evidence of these 
 in acts of more alarming import. They fol- 
 lowed the leadership of men famous for their 
 intellectual gifts, men renowned for their argu- 
 mentative powers, and versed in the contro- 
 versial questions of government ; they thus 
 rapidly became a power which the Cabinet of 
 the Tuileries could not afford to overlook. 
 
 At the head of these salons stood the young 
 exiled princes, who presented themselves, if not 
 to the nation at large, at least to the lower 
 classes, first under the prestige of misfortune, 
 and later under that of a liberalism whose sin- 
 
178 NAPOLEON HI. 
 
 cerity was, however, ultimately doubted. The 
 tragical death of the Due d' Orleans, father of 
 the Comte de Paris, who was regarded as a 
 possible successor to Napoleon III., was still 
 fresh in all minds, and dwelt there, a kind of 
 sentimental legend inspired by the popularity 
 of this prince, who was indeed full of virtue and 
 of charm. 
 
 The exiled princes by no means remained 
 inactive, but added their influence to that of 
 those who maintained their cause in France. 
 They assumed an offensive position before the 
 Empire ; they made their voices heard in the 
 discussions of the day, they supported journals 
 which proclaimed the justice of their principles 
 and of their claims. They reigned over the 
 salons, which willingly bowed to their authority ; 
 nor was their rule that of the potentates of a 
 comedy, as was that of Comte de Chambord 
 over the Faubourg Saint-Germain ; they gov- 
 erned with all the assurance of leaders certain 
 of victory, and remind us somewhat of the 
 mighty vassals of feudal days, who assigned the 
 king his tasks. 
 
 Of the Comte de Paris little was said at this 
 time. He appeared in the world as a young 
 man of average intelligence, well qualified for 
 the life of a parliamentarian, to which he was 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 179 
 
 destined, and inclined to support the theories 
 and the claims of his uncles, sons of the King 
 Louis Philippe. Of these sons, the Prince de 
 Joinville, the Due de Nemours, the Due de 
 Montpensier, and the Due d'Aumale, much, on 
 the contrary, was spoken. 
 
 By a still-life deception, by a kind of sleight- 
 of-hand, the name of the Prince de Joinville was 
 always associated with the Napoleonic legend ; it 
 called forth the remembrance of the return of the 
 Emperor's remains from Saint Helena upon the 
 Belle Poule, which was accomplished through 
 the intervention of this nobleman. His nature 
 was contrasted with the ingratitude of Louis 
 Bonaparte, whose kingdom had been prepared 
 by the monarchy of July. The proud and high- 
 bred manner of Comte de Nemours, his personal 
 beauty, and his chivalrous nature, were constant 
 subjects of praise. 
 
 The Due de Montpensier was also extolled, 
 and his intimacy with the Spanish princes was 
 made a source of rejoicing. Yet, of the four 
 uncles of the Comte de Paris, the Due d'Au- 
 male was undoubtedly the most popular. It 
 was he who inspired the Orleanist party in its 
 political acts ; it was he whose counsels were 
 respected and obeyed. 
 
 The Due d'Aumale was more of a soldier 
 
180 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 than were his brothers, and during his father's 
 reign and his own exile had roused an enthu- 
 siasm which placed him on a somewhat higher 
 plane in the eyes of the people. Acts of wild 
 bravado were attributed to him, and escapades 
 of love ; this character of a Don Juan was most 
 attractive to the masses, which in France are 
 ready idolaters of any wild adventurer. The 
 story which represents him at the head of his 
 army waging furious war in Algeria was told 
 and retold ; nor did the salons ever tire of hear- 
 ing how he passed in review in Courbevoie in 
 the character of colonel, and how there rode by 
 
 his side his mistress, Mile. Alice O , attired 
 
 like him in a magnificent uniform of colonel. 
 There was in the life of the Due dAumale a 
 resemblance to that of Henry IV., which pro- 
 cured for him a certain popularity. He was, 
 moreover, young, brilliant, bold, and a devoted 
 admirer of women, able in every way to justify 
 the character with which public sentiment had 
 invested him. He held regular correspond- 
 ence with his partisans in France, studied the 
 diverse questions which agitated the nation, 
 watched carefully the course of events, and 
 wrote letters which, when made public, assumed 
 the importance of manifestoes. 
 
 The leading partisans of these princes in 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 181 
 
 Paris and throughout France, those who exerted 
 influence in the salons, were men of true valour, 
 or descendants of illustrious personages who 
 had won renown in the monarchy of July. 
 These were MM. de Broglie, de Remusat, 
 d'Haussonville, de Montalivet, Decazes, and de 
 Montalembert. These men not only made their 
 voices heard through the social world, but they 
 wrote, and established newspapers ; their voices, 
 joining with those of the republicans, sounded 
 like the distant rumbling of a coming storm. 
 It was in the salons Thiers and Galliera that 
 the Orleanist party usually held its meetings. 
 It was here that the Due de Broglie, young at 
 that time, and imbued with liberal principles, com- 
 municated to his friends the somewhat vague 
 ideals which filled his mind, and, with his eyes 
 raised dreamily toward heaven, read to them 
 the strange papers which he had designed for 
 publication. It was here that M. de Remusat 
 proclaimed his royalist convictions, convictions 
 which were, however, tempered by doubts and 
 evasions in which an observer might have 
 foretold the republican of to-morrow. It was 
 here that M. d'Haussonville discussed, with 
 his unflagging good-humour, the virtues of the 
 princes ; and here, too, M. de Montalembert, of 
 more violent temperament, hurled forth his 
 
1 82 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 anathemas against the Empire, while the Due 
 Decazes gave vent to his hatred of Napoleon 
 III. and of all which concerned him. 
 
 Due Decazes, even after the war of 1870, 
 was one of the politicians of the National 
 Assembly who showed the most bitter feeling 
 against Napoleon III. It would have been 
 becoming had he remembered that his mother, 
 the Duchesse Decazes, had, in 1861, solicited 
 favour, and begged assistance of the sovereign, 
 and had met with compassion from him in her 
 misfortunes. 
 
 This incident calls for some mention here, 
 inasmuch as it proves, as I have stated in my 
 previous book, " The Empress Eugenie," and 
 in the chapter of that book which is entitled 
 " The Empress and Society," that, though 
 the Royalist party was in continual and fierce 
 conflict against Napoleon III., it did not 
 scruple, on convenient occasions, to make use 
 for its own ends of the kindness and the power 
 of the Emperor. Honesty and pride would 
 have seemed to forbid this party the use of 
 imperial favours ; honour would seem to impose 
 silence on certain men who had been recipients 
 of these favours. To forget kindnesses received 
 is, however, too vital an element of human 
 nature to admit of much astonishment. 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 1 83 
 
 It was M. de Sainte-Aulaire who, in February, 
 1 861, undertook to negotiate with one of the 
 ministers of Napoleon III. for the assistance in 
 behalf of the Duchesse Decazes to which I have 
 just alluded. It was he who made public the 
 letter in which the widow of that most popular 
 minister, who had been compromised in the 
 Restoration, solicited financial aid. 
 
 On March 7, 1849, Prince Louis Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, President of the Republic, had 
 granted the Due Decazes a pension of six 
 thousand francs. M. de Sainte-Aulaire, in his 
 letter to the Emperor's minister, recalled this 
 fact in support of the request which he 
 transmitted. 
 
 " My dear Count," wrote M. de Sainte-Aulaire, " the 
 enclosed note will prove the accuracy of the statements 
 which I made to you a few days ago. That which we 
 ask is the continuance of an act which has already given 
 evidence of your great goodness. I can but feel that, 
 setting aside all political considerations, this proof of 
 sympathy bestowed on the widow of a man who occu- 
 pied a position of importance in our nation will meet with 
 universal approbation. 
 
 " Accept, in any case, my gratitude for your interest in 
 this affair, as well as my most affectionate regards, which 
 spring from a friendship of long standing. 
 
 " Friday." 
 
 " Monsieur le Comte," ran the letter of the Duchesse 
 Decazes, " In 1849 an annual and life pension of six 
 
1 84 NAPOLEON HI. 
 
 thousand francs was accorded my husband, the Due 
 Decazes, to be paid from the revenues received by M. 
 Odilon Barrot, at that time minister. 
 
 " The financial position in which I am left leads me to 
 ask you, sir, to obtain from his Majesty, the Emperor, 
 permission that this pension be continued to me. 
 
 " I shall receive this favour with a feeling of true grati- 
 tude, of which gratitude, sir, I trust you will be the 
 faithful interpreter. 
 
 " I have the honour to remain, sir, your excellency's 
 humble and obedient servant, 
 
 Desse decazes." 
 
 It is with no hostile intent that I publish 
 these documents. Had not the Due Decazes, 
 son of the author of the preceding letter, as- 
 sumed the offensive attitude which he did 
 toward Napoleon III. after 1870, I should 
 never have made them public. Such records 
 as these, however, confirm too strongly my es- 
 timate of the Emperor's character to permit my 
 withdrawal of them from the legitimate curios- 
 ity and the impartial appreciation of the reader. 
 Facts of a personal nature like this, form, when 
 accumulated, the philosophy of history ; and if 
 this philosophy presents to the sentimental mind 
 only vain and awful cruelties, it, nevertheless, 
 possesses for intelligent men certain claims 
 which we have no right to neglect. 
 
 Unlike the Legitimist party, the Orleanists had 
 few women in their ranks whose influence was 
 
THE EMPEROR AND THE SALONS. 185 
 
 strongly felt. Men of courage, energy, and ini- 
 tiative were numerous among them ; and their 
 opposition was dangerous because it manifested 
 itself not only in words, but also in deeds ; be- 
 cause it organised a merciless war, at once 
 political, social, and academic, against imperial 
 institutions, and preached liberal doctrines at a 
 time when the government of the Tuileries was 
 opposed to all progress, all concessions, all relin- 
 quishment of its absolutism. The Orleanist 
 party, with an incontestable shrewdness which 
 it afterwards lost, foresaw the evolution of the 
 Empire, and checked its course by monopolising 
 prematurely its doctrine. In this act lay its 
 strength for the conflict which it had under- 
 taken ; the manoeuvre would have insured its 
 success at the critical moment had the men who 
 represented the princes been at a less distance 
 from the people. These men were but disguised 
 aristocrats, and wore with little ease their car- 
 magnoles of fine cloth ; in politics, they were 
 but dilettantes ; they conspired in lace and per- 
 fumes ; they hated the people, and were, in 
 return, if not hated, at least absolutely ignored 
 by them. 
 
1 86 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 VI. 
 
 M. EUGENE ROUHER. 
 
 The Second Empire is marked by two dis- 
 tinct phases : one is its power and absolutism, 
 the other its liberalism. If we set aside all per- 
 sonal prejudice in regard to governmental theo- 
 ries, and seek but to understand justly the true 
 nature of politics at that time, we can hardly 
 fail to acknowledge that the Tuileries knew 
 marvellously well how to put its doctrine of 
 absolutism into execution, or that it chose with 
 admirable wisdom the men whose office it was 
 to propagate its principles. In its phase of lib- 
 eralism Napoleon III. showed far less ability. 
 This period of his reign seems less like a well- 
 defined political era than it does like a transi- 
 tion period. We feel in it a spirit of hesitancy ; 
 its movement is clumsy, and shows lack of expe- 
 rience, reminding us of the work of an artisan 
 in whose hands is placed a tool whose use he 
 does not understand, but with which he is told 
 to make an article whose manufacture is not 
 included in his craft. During its liberal period 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 187 
 
 the Empire was like this artisan. Liberty was 
 a new tool, which it did not know how to 
 handle. 
 
 Setting aside M. de Persigny, who was a 
 warm friend of Napoleon III., and who, as such, 
 co-operated in all his schemes with more or less 
 willingness and good humour, the authoritative 
 Empire finds its personification in two men 
 whom events brought continually into prom- 
 inence, and who reaped rich harvests from such 
 events. These men were MM. de Morny and 
 Rouher. 
 
 I have already sketched the character of M. 
 de Morny, and I will not repeat myself here. 
 It is, nevertheless, impossible for me to write 
 the name of this politician without recalling the 
 indignation roused by my estimate of his his- 
 toric role, at the time when I first made public 
 my convictions. Friends who were somewhat 
 too fervent sought to invalidate my statements ; 
 they flatly contradicted the story which repre- 
 sents the Emperor's brother as involved, not 
 only in all the financial problems of the day, but 
 also in a thousand petty intrigues. 
 
 Despite the high regard in which his admirers 
 and allies hold him, M. de Morny is, neverthe- 
 less, a man whose character justifies such a 
 story ; the following letter which, in 1 8 50, that 
 
1 88' NAPOLEON III. 
 
 is, toward the close of his political career, as he 
 stood on the threshold of the great fortune 
 which was to be his, he addressed to M. de 
 Ruoltz, inventor of the famous jewellery, will 
 prove to the reader that I did not deceive my- 
 self in regard to him, or collect my data at 
 random. 
 
 In the margin of this letter was written, 
 "Received September 6th, 1850." 
 
 " Wednesday." 
 (Here was affixed a count's coronet.) 
 
 "My Dear Ruoltz," — the letter continued — "I 
 have seen the Devaux. They, together with myself and 
 Brown, propose to buy your business in thirds, paying 
 down now ten thousand francs, and in a year or two fifty 
 thousand more if the enterprise succeeds. You under- 
 stand that you will, in this case, have the certainty of 
 said amount and the probability of one-third with me in 
 the English concern. I have been asked to lay this pro- 
 posal before you. Let me hear from you directly. Reply 
 that, despite the arguments which I present, and the con- 
 fidence which I feel in the power of the Maison Devaux 
 to make the scheme succeed, and the difficulties which I 
 have presented, you nevertheless feel that the success 
 obtained in France warrants great expectations in Eng- 
 land ; that certainly you have need of cash, but are not in 
 such sore straits that you can afford to sacrifice an offer 
 like this. Say, in short, that you consent, out of consid- 
 eration for me, to interest yourself in the English busi- 
 ness, and to receive twenty-four thousand francs in cash, 
 while you leave to MM. Devaux, de Morny, and Brown, 
 permission to buy out the business here within eighteen 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 189 
 
 months at sixty thousand francs additional, or to give you 
 twenty-five per cent of the net proceeds. 
 
 " You understand that by such a reply you reject my 
 proposals and offer me new conditions. Write me such a 
 letter as early as possible, that I may close up affairs with 
 the Maison Devaux upon this basis. You perceive how 
 necessary it is to settle upon some definite sum, for the 
 interest which you retain through me is the same. Write 
 a judicious letter and address it to me. 
 
 Tully Allan, 
 Kincardine on the Forth, 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 " I shall show your letter to the Devaux, so be careful to 
 say nothing in it which they should not see. If you have 
 anything of a private nature to write, use a separate sheet. 
 
 " Good-bye ; I write you in great haste. 
 
 " Most cordially yours, 
 
 " MORNY. 
 
 " Keep this letter." 
 
 It will be seen that before placing one's con- 
 fidence in M. de Morny, it was necessary to 
 know him well ; nor was this easy to do. It 
 will also be seen that none understood better 
 than he how to betray those who trusted in his 
 honesty ; that none understood better than he 
 how to make use of an annoying associate, or 
 one from whom gold was to be had. He knew, 
 too, how to instruct his coadjutors when the 
 question concerned, according to his own ex- 
 pression, " some definite sum." 
 
190 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 The preceding letter hardly admits of further 
 illusions regarding the personal morality of M. 
 de Morny. It will, I trust, put an end to the 
 efforts made by the public for his rehabilitation, 
 efforts which, if persisted in, are likely to be- 
 come grotesque or na'ifs. 
 
 In this chapter I shall not, however, pause to 
 consider M. de Morny, but rather seek to repre- 
 sent the character of M. Eugene Rouher, a man 
 who, starting as a small lawyer in Auvergne, 
 became vice-emperor ; a man whose broad 
 mountaineer's shoulders were not yet strong 
 enough to bear the weight of the many respon- 
 sibilities which, in consequence of his own 
 talents, devolved upon him ; a man who, gifted 
 with tenacity of purpose, courage, and power, 
 attained his heaven ; but, whether angel or 
 demon, was one day hurled from Olympus by 
 a mighty blast of that wind of which Victor 
 Hugo sings, a wind which breaks the wings of 
 the eagle, and interrupts the course of the most 
 brilliant meteors. 
 
 When M. Rouher came to Paris to seek his 
 fortune, it was not in the character of a local 
 celebrity, or of an hidden genius that he ap- 
 peared. He turned, however, with disdain from 
 his lawyer's career, and directed his attention 
 immediately toward politics. Of humble birth 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 191 
 
 his sympathies were called forth by the class to 
 which he by parentage belonged. He pro- 
 claimed liberal doctrines and was a fervent 
 democrat ; emperors and kings had no more 
 ardent enemy than he. We should not be too 
 bitter in our criticism of public men whose 
 convictions change somewhat with the course 
 of events. I mention the political revolution of 
 M. Rouher's views as a simple fact, and add no 
 comment on it. 
 
 M. Rouher's personal appearance remained 
 for some years, despite the cares which filled 
 his subsequent life, much as it was when he 
 first appeared before public notice. He was 
 a fine-looking man, with a stalwart figure and a 
 much developed chest. His aspect would have 
 been agreeable, had not his carriage been some- 
 what ponderous, and his manner in strange con- 
 trast to the dandified clothes which he wore. 
 He was not elegant at any time. He was one 
 of the few public men who were firm in their 
 allegiance to the Empress Eugenie, and obedi- 
 ent to hei every command, without having, as 
 an excuse for submission, either a secret or an 
 avowed passion. This is an historic fact of some 
 psychologic importance. 
 
 At the time that he pleaded before the tri- 
 bunal at Riom, M. Rouher held advanced prin- 
 
192 N/IPOLEON III. 
 
 ciples of liberalism ; but when he established 
 himself in Paris his feelings became even more 
 emphatic ; and when in 1846, and later in 1848, 
 he presented himself at the elections, his con- 
 fession of faith indicated a marked progress in 
 this direction, and a strong sympathy with the 
 masses. 
 
 M. Rouher was defeated in 1846, but was 
 elected to the Chamber in 1848, and became 
 from this time a prominent figure in the world 
 of politics. 
 
 Certain letters have been placed in my hands 
 which were written by M. Rouher after his 
 election as representative of the people in 1848. 
 At this time the future Minister of State under 
 the Second Empire was uncertain whether he 
 should love or hate Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, 
 and the letters show such a curious state of 
 mind on the part of their author that I shall 
 quote them here. The first of these was writ- 
 ten in June, 1848, and is addressed, as is the 
 subsequent one, to M. de Latour, mayor of 
 Clermont-Ferrand. 
 
 " French Republic. 
 Mayoralty-House of Paris. 
 
 " I am writing you," runs the letter, " in the H6tel de 
 Ville, during the few moments left before the departure of 
 the post. My day has been spent in visiting the field- 
 hospitals and the advance stations. What horrible butch- 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 1 93 
 
 ery! The victory, however, is ours, or will be ours. 
 The troops are arriving from every side. Of all wars a 
 civil war is the most hideous. All will be over this evenr 
 ing or some time during the day to-morrow. The custom- 
 house has been razed by Lamoriciere with incredible 
 dauntlessness. The Faubourg Saint-Antoine, that mighty 
 fortress, has been taken after a long and brave resistance. 
 At this very moment — it is half-past four o'clock — news 
 of a complete victory is brought. The insurgents made 
 use of a frightful stratagem. The houses along the block 
 communicated with each other, and our captains were 
 secretly murdered. If they have done us much injury, 
 they have also brought upon themselves awful retribution. 
 At our very side fifty of these were shot, and it was but 
 by dint of great effort that we saved one of the wounded 
 from being thrown into the water. 
 
 " The killed and wounded on our side number about 
 seventeen hundred at the present moment. By close of 
 the day the insurgents will have lost an equal number. 
 
 " The firing continues in the city, and all about us, as 
 I write. The victory gained by our troops is announced. 
 The Garde-Mobile showed sublime courage." 
 
 Two months after these events — August 13, 
 1848 — we find M. Rouher's interest engrossed 
 by the external condition of the country. 
 
 " These questions, 1 ' he writes, after having spoken of 
 the elections to the general council; "these questions 
 are, no doubt, of importance, yet they can but appear 
 secondary when compared with those which occupy our 
 attention in the Assembly. I do not know what will be 
 the issue of the Italian problem. War, that awful scourge, 
 seems to me imminent. Our course in the matter has 
 been most unfortunate. Instead of letting things rankle. 
 
194 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 as we have done, the question should have been fairly 
 submitted to Austria. ' Your war in Italy,' we should 
 have said to her, ' will involve you in inextricable diffi- 
 culty. Vanquished by Charles Albert, you will be forced 
 to abandon your rule in Italy; are you victorious, you 
 will win France as an adversary. Is it not better to nego- 
 tiate?' Austria, disturbed in its interior, uncertain of 
 success, would in this case have accepted diplomacy. 
 To-day, however, the victory of the army is assured, if its 
 march upon Turin is not impeded. Our relations with 
 England will remain as they are for some time ; but when 
 we begin to speak of liberty, she will grow indifferent, 
 and slowly withdraw, leaving us to face Austria and Rus- 
 sia, or else to beat an ignominious retreat. 
 
 ' ' The debates on the subject are not of a nature to 
 help the situation. This struggle which to-day has be- 
 come inevitable, unless, indeed, we purchase our escape 
 by an act of cowardice, will be one of great violence, for 
 it is at once personal and political. I fear, too, that the 
 vote will not show us to be the stronger power." 
 
 We find, dated during the same month, the 
 following lines, written in a somewhat bitter 
 spirit, and yet with a certain tone of satisfac- 
 tion in them. 
 
 " The pretended conspiracy of Girardin has ended in a 
 liberation. In return, the executive power has decided to 
 repress the paper which is called the Representant du 
 Peuple, and which is edited by our dear colleague, Citizen 
 Proudhon, who in a series of articles had resumed the 
 development of his anti-socialistic doctrines. How much, 
 however, can we hope to accomplish by these measures 
 when confronted by the immense evil which we are called 
 upon to overthrow ? The government is acting as though 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 1 95 
 
 it were half asleep. This is a moment when, to encourage 
 the outbursts of confidence which are making themselves 
 felt, measures should be taken to increase the credit and 
 the circulation upon public works. Twenty projects of 
 different committees have come to a standstill through 
 the announcement of yet another scheme which shall 
 combine the advantages of all the preceding ones ; but 
 no conclusion is reached. It would be an act of strange 
 self-deception to believe that order is fairly established, 
 and in delaying its consolidation great danger is in- 
 curred." 
 
 • 
 We feel in these lines the strength of the 
 
 man so soon to become a public authority. M. 
 
 Rouher did not long hold the liberal views which 
 
 he entertained at this period. One year after 
 
 the Revolution of 1848 — on April 14, 1849 — 
 
 he turned against the ultra-revolutionists. 
 
 " La Montagne," he writes, " grows more and more 
 violent as we approach the goal. We stand facing each 
 other, waiting for the enemy to demand leave-of-absence, 
 that we may disband. 
 
 " Consid6rant is before the tribune. He has read us a 
 tremendous socialistic discourse, to which we had the 
 patience to listen. Indulgence and sympathy in this 
 unfortunate country are only called forth by follies." 
 
 In July of this same year, 1849, M. Rouher 
 again turned his attention to the foreign policy 
 of France, and gave expression to most pes- 
 simistic sentiments. 
 
196 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 "Our diplomacy," he cries, " has been strangely pol- 
 luted by the revolution of February. Our present repre- 
 sentatives to foreign nations, those, at least, who occupy 
 subordinate positions, bring us far less honour than dis- 
 credit. Should M. de Tocqueville cleanse the Augean 
 stables, there would be numerous vacancies made. 
 
 "Politics are still in an unsteady condition. They 
 lack air and horizon. Despite the storms which have 
 burst over our heads, the atmosphere remains heavy, and 
 I do not see what we can do to clear it." 
 
 This correspondence is curious and interest- 
 ing, inasmuch as it gives evidence of M. Rou- 
 her's accurate and keen judgment of affairs. 
 History will show us whether, having attained 
 to power, he preserved in the execution of his 
 political designs the same calm insight and 
 practical intelligence which at this time dis- 
 tinguished him. 
 
 M. Rouher, despite the liberalism of his early 
 life, and despite the Olympian mask which later 
 circumstances forced upon him, was during the 
 whole course of his career a plebeian living in 
 constant fear of the Revolution. His private 
 life, at least, reveals him as such ; and it is said 
 that nature finds its truest reflection in our 
 more intimate relations. 
 
 Of simple habits and a lover of old traditions, 
 the powerful minister of Napoleon III. was 
 wont, after public and parliamentary discussions, 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 197 
 
 after hours spent in studying questions of 
 government, to withdraw to his own fireside 
 at the hour of curfew, and to resume there the 
 game of cards interrupted yesterday. To see 
 him then, one would have thought him a mer- 
 chant, who, his warehouse closed, had come 
 home to put on his slippers and rest, feeling 
 well content with the day's sales. There was 
 nothing in his bearing at such times to sug- 
 gest the orator who a few hours ago had held, 
 by the power of his language, the attention 
 of a great audience ; nothing to suggest the 
 statesman who had united and severed nations, 
 or the mighty functionary who had held vehe- 
 ment discussions with the sovereign. The 
 doors closed, he dealt and shuffled the cards 
 in his great fat hands. M. Rouher was like 
 the good plebeian of the story, who, when even- 
 ing came, locked himself within the house, fear- 
 ing thieves ; and who, if he allowed himself to 
 speak at all, uttered only curses against the 
 disturbers of public peace, who, he imagined, 
 were constantly seeking means by which to 
 rob him of home and sustenance. 
 
 M. Rouher' s bourgeois temperament colours 
 his whole political life. He strove for author- 
 ity and he' gained it ; but was his motive that 
 of most men who reach after riches and power ? 
 
198 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Did he seek through these the accomplishment 
 of great things ? Was his the spirit of the 
 artist who but sees in his advancement, in 
 the authority which he wins, the progressive 
 and the increasing power of his art ? No ; M. 
 Rouher had no ideal before him ; he played 
 his part in the Second Empire with no trans- 
 port of feeling or subtle joyousness of soul. 
 He took a bourgeois satisfaction in power as 
 other men of his rank and temperament do 
 in commerce, or in a profession ; with him 
 as with these the joy lay in amassing a for- 
 tune and in the selfish interest of a goal to 
 be attained. 
 
 As I have already said, M. Rouher was at 
 the outset a liberal ; yet so dry and methodical 
 were the workings of his mind that he failed 
 to understand Liberty. The ring of the word 
 enticed him as it does all youthful spirits ; but, 
 born old, his allegiance could be but of short 
 duration. The passionate words which Liberty 
 breathed forth frightened him ; her needs and 
 her claims filled him with dismay ; and he was 
 glad to escape from her tight embrace, from 
 that fierce caress which had very nearly brought' 
 ruin upon him. He trembled as a child trem- 
 bles on the breast of a stranger ; he grew rigid 
 in her arms, and never ceased to feel that tight- 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 1 99 
 
 ening of the skin and quiver of the nerves 
 which her kiss had occasioned. It was like 
 a little spot of goose-flesh which never passed 
 away. 
 
 Having arrived at his goal, having attained 
 the legitimate kingdom of his personality, his 
 every step was now characterised by an almost 
 irrational hatred of liberty ; his days were 
 passed in a routine of duties which flattered his 
 love of authority, and was in harmony with the 
 tastes which he had inherited by birth. This 
 hatred and this routine were indeed the well- 
 springs of his oratorical power. 
 
 Magnificently eloquent M. Rouher was, with- 
 out a doubt. At the outset of his career, how- 
 ever, there was nothing in his speech to foretell- 
 the power which was in him, to suggest that 
 marvellous gift of language which became so 
 mighty a factor in the influence which he at- 
 tained. At the time when, without sincere 
 conviction or enthusiasm, M. Rouher advocated 
 liberty, his voice was without ring, his accents 
 fell cold and lifeless, and no voice was raised 
 in answer to his appeals. It was not until he 
 took up the campaign in favour of absolutism 
 that he developed his oratorical gift. From 
 this time, however, he showed himself a mag- 
 nificent master of rhetoric. He had to combat 
 
200 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 men of immense talent, such as Jules Favre, 
 Jules Simon, and Emile Ollivier. He was not 
 content to use against these men merely the 
 weapon of his own governmental endorsement 
 signed by an official majority ; he resolved to 
 rise to their level, to crush them. In this 
 attitude he is magnificent, and the eloquence 
 with which he met them is superb. 
 
 His attitude was that of a wild boar before a 
 pack of hounds. Squaring his great shoulders, 
 he faced them, and stood there, an object not 
 to be moved, an impassable barrier between the 
 Emperor and the masses, between the people 
 and the throne ; he stood like a living rock, in- 
 tercepting the paths which led to the Tuileries. 
 ■When he raised his great fist, and set free the 
 thunder of his voice, the world knew that an 
 enemy of the Empire was about to fall to the 
 ground, as though felled by the stroke of a 
 mighty Titan. 
 
 His eloquence was in harmony with his spirit 
 and his attitude. Violent and argumentative, 
 made up of anathemas and again of heart-stir- 
 ring sentences, it overpowered completely the 
 oratory of the enemies of Napoleon III. ; it 
 held the attention of the public, it dramatised 
 the dictates of conscience, it exalted loyalty, it 
 carried imagination into realms where are built 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER 201 
 
 the air-castles of the world, where are born 
 those wild enthusiasms in which is no ration- 
 ality, and which preclude all argument. 
 
 M. Rouher's oratory was, to speak justly, 
 strong, but coarse and less intellectual than 
 what is popularly called "taking." He sung 
 the praises of the sovereign whom he served, 
 he waved the red flag before the nation ; and 
 in his every harangue used this double-edged 
 sword, which had been sharpened against the 
 whetstone of rhetoric. At a period when 
 the glory of the Napoleonic legend filled all 
 minds, at a period when the masses hesitated 
 on the threshold of a future which should have 
 no Bonaparte as master, it was, no doubt, easy 
 to win public sympathy by rousing the fear 
 of a to-morrow holding no certainty, and by 
 catering to those sentimental feelings which 
 clustered round the names of certain historic 
 characters. That M. Rouher, however, knew 
 how to turn to good advantage the somewhat 
 commonplace methods of oratory which he em- 
 ployed is indisputable. As he showed so much 
 talent in the adaptation and use of these meth- 
 ods, it surely would be vain to discuss their 
 intrinsic worth. 
 
 It was not till after the death of M. Billault 
 that M. Rouher occupied a place of any great 
 
202 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 importance in the Tuileries. M. Billault stood 
 before him in the relation of a rival, one who 
 understood the position which he wished to 
 occupy, and who remained an obstacle in the 
 way of his political development. When, how- 
 ever, he died, the power of M. Rouher declared 
 and emphasised itself. Confident of his own 
 abilities, assured of docile minds in the super- 
 numeraries who paraded the stage upon which 
 he had now stepped, he placed his great, nerve- 
 less hand on the shoulder of Napoleon III., and 
 from this time forth never separated himself 
 from the Emperor. He mounted steadily, step 
 by step, toward power, and each day which 
 passed saw his influence increase. He was 
 helped, too, in his schemes by the Empress, 
 whose tyrannical ideas were in harmony with 
 his own. He became her habitual and loyal 
 counsellor ; he organised not only in the politi- 
 cal world, but in the court itself, a party which 
 swept everything before it, whose rule in the 
 Tuileries was absolute, and which later, when it 
 acquired the name of the Empress's party, and 
 adopting an almost official etiquette, plunged 
 the country into ruin. 
 
 The Emperor, whose ideals were higher than 
 those of his government, whose heart was nobler 
 than his absolutism, became uneasy when he 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER 20$ 
 
 found himself thus taken possession of. Des- 
 pite, however, the philosophical dreams by which 
 he was haunted, he fell a victim to M. Rouher's 
 charms. He still stood too close to the Coup 
 d'Etat to discard the services of a man in whom 
 the whole doctrine of December Second seemed 
 to find its synthesis ; he was still too widely 
 separated from freedom to impede this man in 
 his work. He placed the nation in the power 
 of M. Rouher, and awaited the results of his 
 own effacement. 
 
 From this time M. Rouher held the reins of 
 government, and reminds us of a charioteer, 
 who, regardless of the ditches which may inter- 
 cept his road, drives his horses on at a mad 
 speed. 
 
 The masses were full of discontent, and 
 through them was felt a slight stir of revolt. 
 They aspired toward a political state more con- 
 formable to public sentiment ; M. Rouher re- 
 fused to adopt the policy for which they longed, 
 and received with haughty disdain the denuncia- 
 tions which made themselves heard round him 
 like the distant roll of thunder when yet only 
 an occasional flash is seen in the sky. 
 
 At a moment when the role which France 
 had filled in the Roman question seemed to be 
 approaching its end, he encored the act, and, 
 
204 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 submissive to the wishes of the Empress, led 
 it on to its most tragic scenes, and nearly in- 
 volved us in trouble with King Victor Emman- 
 uel. Called to speak publicly concerning the 
 abandonment of Rome by the Cabinet of the 
 Tuileries, an action which was much desired by 
 statesmen, and also by the nation at large, he 
 pronounced that terrible word, he thundered 
 forth his famous " Never," which plunged the 
 Emperor and the nation into difficulties from 
 which they were not to emerge. 
 
 In analysing even superficially the course of 
 action pursued by M. Rouher, we can hardly 
 fail to ask ourselves whether this man were 
 truly a statesman or capable of directing a 
 government. 
 
 Though in doing so I place myself in opposi- 
 tion to the majority of those who have studied 
 M. Rouher in his long career, I do not hesitate 
 to reply that this all-powerful minister, this vice- 
 emperor, was not capable of ruling a nation 
 wisely, was not a statesman in the truest sense 
 of the term. 
 
 He marched toward power accompanied by a 
 pride unexcelled in the annals of history ; that 
 same pride it was which torments the parvenu 
 when he has attained unwonted riches. He 
 marched toward power accompanied by the 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 205 
 
 martial strains of dauntless determination not 
 to be subdued. He broadened his own person- 
 ality that there should be no place at his side 
 for another to occupy. Egoistic and avaricious 
 of authority, he appropriated to himself all 
 political benefits, and was unwilling to share 
 with others, whoever they might be, any portion 
 of them. He was like those who, having with 
 much difficulty acquired a fortune, no longer 
 take thought for others, but fear to spend one 
 penny of their hard-earned savings. 
 
 His politics were personal ; his enjoyment of 
 power lay in no wish to bring his country glory, 
 or to ward from it threatening harm. As some 
 men are selfish in their love, looking upon its 
 object simply as a means of personal gratifica- 
 tion, and having in their heart no wish to share 
 their joy, so he was selfish in his devotion to 
 politics. 
 
 A statesman or a great ruler is moved by 
 motives other than these. To such, too, is per- 
 mitted that consolation for the weariness, the 
 struggle, the bitterness of life, which is to be 
 sought but in one place, the holy of holies ; yet 
 his thought and ideals should be directed else- 
 where. In them the destiny of the universe 
 should find its reflection. Born in the heart of 
 the mountains, M. Rouher had constantly before 
 
206 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 his sight, like a gigantic screen, the towering 
 ranges of his native mountains ; his view had 
 no horizon, no expanse, and he was one of 
 those who measure humanity by their own 
 shadow. 
 
 A day came when France found itself in- 
 volved in disaster. Time rolled on, and brought 
 in its train the memorable year 1870, the echo 
 of whose voice was lost in the sound of lamenta- 
 tion. M. Rouher was, at this time, as I shall 
 better explain in a subsequent chapter, Presi- 
 dent of the Senate, and less occupied than usual 
 with political responsibilities ; the hour seemed 
 favourable for him to resume power ; and, able 
 to avert through his counsels the dangers which 
 threatened the country, he promised to lead the 
 people on to victory — a victory which to him 
 meant the fall of the liberals who had checked 
 his authority in the government, and the real- 
 isation of his own schemes. M. Rouher became 
 henceforth the grave-digger of the Empire ; he 
 weaved with his own hands the funeral veil 
 which now replaced upon the imperial brows 
 the diadems and flowers of former days. He 
 became a criminal, for he sought war ; and to 
 seek war for any cause but the one greatest 
 and highest cause, is to commit a criminal 
 act. 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 2Q"J 
 
 Though the authoritative period of the 
 Second Empire seems to find its embodiment 
 in M. Rouher, there were, nevertheless, others 
 who co-operated with Napoleon III. There 
 were in the Emperor's court men whose diverse 
 but incontestable powers have brought them 
 before public notice. Among these were such 
 names as those of MM. Chevreau, Duvergier, 
 Riche, Jolibois, Vuitry, Haussmann, de Parieu, 
 Persigny, Walewski, Magne, Buffet, de Royer, 
 Pinard, Pi^tri, Alfred Leroux, Segris, Devienne, 
 Emile Ollivier, La Gueronniere, and others. 
 M. Rouher amused himself one day by analys- 
 ing the characters of these men. The paper on 
 which he jotted down his estimate of them for 
 the inspection of the Emperor has been found, 
 but I will cite here only a few of his comments. 
 
 In M. Chevreau, M. Rouher saw "the justi- 
 fication of hope for true parliamentary ability ; " 
 but he accuses him of being too easily led, and 
 adds that " T odor della femina will lead him far 
 from the true path." 
 
 In regard to M. Riche" he inserts the follow- 
 ing criticism : — 
 
 " He is a fine orator and a man of philosophical and 
 fertile mind, yet lacking in decision and too much of a 
 dreamer ; he suffers from disorder of the stomach, which 
 manifests itself in unnatural appetites. 
 
208 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 " The nomination of M. de Persigny or of M. Walew- 
 ski," he continues, "as ministers of the interior, could 
 only be accomplished by a reversal of the political views 
 at present held. These men would certainly introduce 
 into the ministry elements of trouble and of dissolu- 
 tion. 
 
 " M. Buffet has the spirit of a doctrinaire, and yet is 
 always undecided, never willing to lend himself wholly 
 to any enterprise." 
 
 M. Rouher is more explicit in regard to M. 
 Pinard, who was a favourite of the Empress, and 
 whose influence he feared upon her whom he 
 had himself undertaken to govern and over 
 whom he kept jealous watch. She sometimes 
 resented his tutelage, and tried on numerous 
 occasions, despite the sympathy of feeling ex- 
 isting between herself and the minister, to free 
 herself from it. 
 
 "M. Pinard," said M. Rouher, "is a magistrate and 
 an orator, who has won some reputation at the palace 
 and in the Conseil d'etat, and will probably give evi- 
 dence to the Legislative Corps of his oratorical powers. 
 As a parliamentarian I recommend him to the Emperor's, 
 notice. To launch so young a man, however, in admin- 
 istrative affairs " (he was alluding to the ministry of the 
 interior) "in a personnel, in labours unfamiliar to him, 
 to give him a voice of authority in a difficult problem, 
 before his moral sensibilities are thoroughly developed 
 and established, seems rather to injure than to serve him. 
 The choice of M. Pinard would involve great risks. I am, 
 however, convinced that, should he follow a less danger- 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 209 
 
 ous and more gradual ascent, and hold himself aloof 
 from administrative affairs, for which he is generally con- 
 sidered incapable, he will in time occupy a prominent 
 place in the Conseil d'Etat and later in politics." 
 
 As our attention has been incidentally at- 
 tracted by M. Pinard, I beg permission to de- 
 vote to him a few words of a personal character. 
 
 M. Ernest Pinard, former Minister of the 
 Interior under Napoleon III., published only 
 a few months ago some memoirs, after the read- 
 ing of which I am forced to conclude that the 
 anecdotal portions of my preceding works, 
 " The Empress Eugenie," and " The Court 
 of Napoleon III.," have not been altogether 
 without influence on the statements there 
 brought forth. 
 
 M. Pinard, however, not satisfied with having 
 drawn upon me for much material, directs an 
 attack against me on page 142, § 1, of the first 
 volume of his work. 
 
 " I hear," writes he, " that some old stories are being 
 re-edited to-day, and have been singularly changed since 
 1870. This is no matter of surprise to me. An enter- 
 taining narrative, one which its author colours to suit his 
 own taste, is pretty sure to find readers. It is well for 
 the author who wishes to coin money out of small scan- 
 dals ; for the Court of Napoleon III., so misjudged by 
 those who have not known it, possesses an ever fresh 
 interest for the public." 
 
210 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 M. Pinard, one of the most powerful and 
 most unwise ministers of the Second Empire, 
 has remained faithful, faithful to the verge 
 of blindness, to his comrades of past days. 
 We can only praise so excellent a loyalty, but 
 even this high quality of soul does not prove 
 him able to correct the documents which I pos- 
 sess concerning the Second Empire. 
 
 M. Pinard, during his ascent to power, re- 
 mained much at the ministry and did not fre- 
 quent the court. As his views were puritanical 
 in the extreme, he held himself aloof from the 
 frivolities which pervaded the habitual circle 
 of friends surrounding the Emperor and Em- 
 press. Though competent, except for his sys- 
 tematic indulgence of persons and things, to 
 speak of the political world to which he be- 
 longed, he is in no way competent to discuss 
 the attitude of the social celebrities of either 
 sex which crowded the Tuileries. 
 
 I have for some years been in the habit of 
 meeting M. Pinard at the home of the Comte 
 
 and Comtesse de J D , whose hospitable 
 
 drawing-rooms, situated in Rue du Mont-Thabor, 
 were open to their devoted friends, and which 
 have been but lately closed on account of the 
 tragic death of the Countess. 
 
 M. Pinard knows, being aware of my family 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 2 1 1 
 
 connection with one of the keepers of the seals 
 under Napoleon III., that I am well informed 
 concerning the affairs of the Second Empire. 
 He knows also the authentic value of the docu- 
 ments in my possession. His attack is, there- 
 fore, but a conventional defence, inspired by 
 feelings of gratitude toward his former co- 
 workers. 
 
 Why, however, in the lines which he devotes 
 tp me, does he bring forward the question of 
 money, which is certainly of an importance quite 
 foreign to that of history ? 
 
 It is no secret that a writer negotiates with 
 his publishers, and receives from them the pro- 
 ceeds which, as an author, are due to him. Will 
 M. Pinard permit me to ask whether, in his own 
 case, he has refused all remuneration for his 
 work ? To suppose that he himself undertakes 
 the expense involved in the publication of his 
 books, would be to suggest a lack of confidence 
 on the part of his publishers. His own attitude 
 surely proves the foolishness of the argument, 
 and I wonder that M. Pinard did not make use 
 of a better one. 
 
 I return to the character sketches of M. 
 Rouher. 
 
 M. Emile Ollivier is the object of severe crit- 
 icism. 
 
212 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 " M. Emile Olliver," says M. Rouher, " is full of en- 
 thusiasm, and labours heartily in the cause which he un- 
 dertakes ; his is a versatile nature, whose liberality is 
 checked by an unfortunate infatuation, and whose useful- 
 ness is impeded by certain hostile and advanced views 
 which he holds upon political questions. Far from con- 
 forming to my feelings, he has become more strongly 
 than ever partner of the hostilities directed against me by 
 M. Walewski. He singled me out for criticism in the 
 Chamber, at the time when the former President of the 
 Legislative Corps came out against me in a journal. I 
 know, however, that these are but straw fires, which a 
 few favours will serve to extinguish." 
 
 Of M. Gueronniere he speaks highly. 
 
 " His fortune is," writes he, " somewhat embarrassed." 
 He then advises the government to give him an embassy ; 
 "for," he adds, " he is a man whose support the nation 
 cannot afford to lose." 
 
 These are the principal features of the criti- 
 cisms made by M. Rouher of the politicians by 
 whom the Emperor was surrounded, and whose 
 access to power he himself had cause to fear. 
 His scheme was to cast upon them no real dis- 
 credit, but to place them, by this rapid analysis, 
 on a decidedly secondary plane in the estima- 
 tion of the Emperor. His bourgeois tempera- 
 ment was, indeed, consistent in all its parts, and 
 was characterised by prudence as well as by 
 excessive joviality. 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 21 3 
 
 In a chapter specially devoted to the declara- 
 tion of war in 1870, I shall, as I have already 
 stated, make known the role which M. Rouher 
 rilled at that time. He was one of the most 
 fervent advocates of war ; and it was he who, 
 summoned before the Emperor after a first de- 
 feat, prevented his re-entering Paris, drove him 
 toward the frontiers, and forced Sedan upon 
 him — Sedan, where the Emperor met with po- 
 litical death, where he was crushed by the most 
 cruel misfortune of modern times. 
 
 On the 4th of September, having returned 
 from his travels, M. Rouher occupied the presi- 
 dential seat in the Senate ; ignorant of the 
 troubles which were agitating the nation at 
 large, blinded by the pride which always char- 
 acterised him, he denied the disturbed condi- 
 tion of affairs, denied the revolution, and finally 
 closed the session, despite the voices of the 
 anxious dignitaries who surrounded him. 
 
 " Messieurs," said he in a tone of fine irony, 
 which betrayed, however, startling ignorance, 
 " Messieurs, we will discuss this question to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Having pronounced these words, which have 
 in them a certain ring of grandeur, and which are 
 among those which history records with pride, 
 it might have been deemed praiseworthy to pre- 
 
214 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 sent himself before the Senate on the morrow, 
 and to force the door of the chamber of delib- 
 eration, which had been closed against him. 
 M. Rouher, however, did not wait till the mor- 
 row, but rested his dignity on the words we 
 have quoted, and on the very evening of Sep- 
 tember 4th fled, evading the search of the in- 
 dignant people, that people which for so many 
 years he had scorned and trampled on. 
 
 Why, however, should we dwell too much 
 upon the failings of humanity ? Do not these 
 form the basis of the philosophy of empires ? 
 Is it not these which tarnish the gilt of thrones ? 
 The lion is glad to emerge from his den, the 
 eagle to descend from his eyrie, and to rest for 
 a moment on the dunghill. In the palaces of 
 emperors and of kings, crimes and shame are 
 found as elsewhere, and we are foolish to be 
 surprised or indignant at them. 
 
 After the war and the fall of the imperial 
 dynasty, M. Rouher came up before the elec- 
 tions of the National Assembly, and was sent 
 to Versailles in the quality of deputy. I have 
 already told a story relative to that memorable 
 session, in which he dared with much courage 
 to defend the sovereign whom he had served. 
 His political role was, however, at its end, and 
 he made no attempt in subsequent years to 
 
M. EUGENE ROUHER. 2 1 5 
 
 resume his former career. His voice was, how- 
 ever, heard in affairs of commerce and in eco- 
 nomic questions ; and his true abilities in these 
 directions secured him, despite the hostility pro- 
 voked by the bare mention of his name, respect 
 in parliament, and praise from his most bitter 
 enemies. 
 
 He was at this period the chief counsellor of 
 the exiled sovereigns, and became, when the 
 Emperor died, the mouthpiece of the Empress. 
 All his powers were directed toward the resto- 
 ration of the Empire, and his energies employed 
 in preparations which would make this restora- 
 tion possible. For this reason he disapproved 
 of the departure of the Prince Imperial for 
 Zululand, and in his despair implored the Em- 
 press to oppose the scheme. Destiny had, 
 however, cast the dice, and M. Rouher had no 
 longer control over its ruling hand. 
 
 I have already given, with the independence 
 and the impartiality by which I always seek to 
 characterise my writing, my estimate of M. 
 Rouher. It is, however, important to state 
 that this man, through whose hands passed 
 thousands of millions of francs, had a high 
 standard of honour and was of unimpeachable 
 honesty. Poor when he entered political life, 
 greatness and power left him at the last without 
 
21 6 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a fortune, and it was with empty pockets that, 
 in the downfall of 1870, he sank with the 
 Empire. It may seem strange to extol a man's 
 honesty ; it may be deemed unnecessary to search 
 his clothing lest, haply, there should be hid in 
 its lining money dishonestly acquired, and to 
 visit his home and force his safe, there to seek 
 the source of his revenues. At times, neverthe- 
 less, of public agitation, at times when the 
 clink of gold is accompanied by the sound of 
 many disturbances, curiosity is natural, and 
 the homage paid to an honest man comes to 
 have a double worth. 
 
 Through the midst of the luxury and of the 
 riches of the Second Empire, through the midst 
 of that luxury by which so many were made 
 dizzy, and of those millions which were show- 
 ered on the nation's representatives, M. Rouher 
 passed with uncorrupted honour, taking with him 
 only his paraphernalia of bourgeois excellence. 
 If his politics were not faultless, if his attitude 
 before the masses was criminal, though by pro- 
 fession he was a slave-driver of consciences, and 
 a bitter enemy of liberty, though in his blind- 
 ness and in the final expression of his pride he 
 failed, standing in the shadow of the Empress, 
 to see the disasters which were threatening our 
 country, he still remains, in the sight of history, 
 
At. EUGENE ROUHER. 217 
 
 unsullied by his contact with money, his char- 
 acter free from the stamp of the coin. 
 
 Through the sensual extravagance of the 
 Second Empire he also passed calm and in- 
 different. Of Puritan principles, the license 
 practiced in the Tuileries, which he only visited 
 officially, met with his disapproval — or was he, 
 perhaps, unconscious of it ? Of an unimpas- 
 sioned temperament, and unenticed by the pleas- 
 ures of the flesh, it would not be strange had 
 he been ignorant of the wild extravagances of 
 love which pervaded every corner of the Tui- 
 leries. Is not, indeed, the very perception, the 
 very condemnation, of sensuality, an expression 
 of that same quality ? 
 
 There are men whom death seems to exalt, 
 whose graves one views expecting to see rise 
 from them some mighty spirit. M. Rouher is 
 not one of these. As an object is magnified in 
 a mirage, so in triumph his personality appeared 
 colossal. In the moral agony of the Empire it 
 assumed its just proportions, which, in the 
 years to come, are destined to shrink little by 
 little. 
 
 I have said that M. Rouher remained a ple- 
 beian, even in the most vigorous expression of 
 his authority. He was, in the midst of his 
 power, like a jolly peasant, who, having on one 
 
2l8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 happy day gained an immense fortune in a 
 lottery, places it under lock and key, caring 
 little to put it into active circulation, or to find 
 for it an useful expenditure. To M. Rouher, 
 who thus hoarded the power which was his, 
 history, scornful of vain enthusiasms and of 
 party exaggerations, accords but one luminous 
 ray in that firmament of suns where is reflected 
 the genius of those who have travelled over the 
 earth, and who, like flashing meteors, or else in 
 the calm course of their orbits, have crossed the 
 path of humanity. 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 219 
 
 VII. 
 
 M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 
 
 The name of M. Emile Ollivier is among 
 those which one can but write with fear and 
 trembling; it provokes, even to-day, feelings of 
 resentment and words of malediction. Those 
 who judge men only by the external aspect of 
 their lives, persist in associating the name of 
 M. Emile Ollivier with the disasters of 1870 ; 
 they hold him responsible for the horrors of 
 that year; through the ignorant and foolish 
 prejudice by which they are controlled, they 
 make him the cause of their despair, the object 
 of their hatred. It requires, therefore, some 
 courage to present him in a true light before the 
 public, and to state at the outset that this man, 
 falsely judged, falsely understood, or else the 
 victim of hypocrisy and of political lies, which 
 in the parliamentary world are far too frequent, 
 merits neither hatred, curses, nor resentment ; 
 that he is above every insult which has touched 
 him ; and that he was, and is still, one of the 
 greatest legislators of our time. 
 
220 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 It is known with what freedom from prejudice 
 I have studied the men and the affairs of the 
 Second Empire. The more dangerous my 
 subject, the more faithful to my convictions I 
 feel that I should be. I shall not, therefore, 
 on this occasion abandon my habitual mode 
 of treatment, but, holding myself aloof from re- 
 criminations as from excessive praise, I shall 
 express with all that impartiality which I have 
 imposed upon myself, my true feeling in regard 
 to M. Emile Ollivier. In so doing I not only 
 satisfy my sense of self-respect, but must hope 
 to win the confidence of the public as I could 
 not do by entering into an impassioned argu- 
 ment. 
 
 Before personifying the liberal spirit of the 
 Empire, M. Emile Ollivier was for a long time 
 the authoritative and eloquent advocate of un- 
 qualified liberty among the people. The oppo- 
 sition which he waged against the Empire was 
 of a peculiar nature. While his political co- 
 workers adhered to their former programmes 
 and to republican principles, M. Emile Ollivier 
 preserved his independence from any too dis- 
 tinctly organised line of conduct, and never 
 ceased to affirm that the war which at the pres- 
 ent moment he waged against the Tuileries was 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 221 
 
 by no means without promise of happy termina- 
 tion, and that he was willing to relinquish it the 
 first moment that the imperial government con- 
 sented to modify its regime in accordance with 
 the progressive ideas of the time. When, at a 
 future day, M. Emile Ollivier expressed his sat- 
 isfaction with the liberal policy adopted by the 
 Emperor Napoleon III., he was accused of aban- 
 doning his former principles. Such an accusa- 
 tion is, however, a great injustice ; he was at 
 that time thoroughly consistent with his atti- 
 tude in the past, and but put into practical 
 execution sentimenfs which he had hitherto 
 expressed. 
 
 The famous " Five," whose leader, together 
 with M. Jules Favres, he was, shared his feeling 
 at that time. MM. Henon and Darimon were 
 frequent visitors at the Palais-Royal, but felt no 
 fear in appearing in the presence of the Em- 
 peror, while M. Ernest Picard, a man of intelli- 
 gence, and ungoverned by prejudice, would not 
 unwillingly have become a co-worker with Napo- 
 leon III. When, indeed, war broke out in 1870, 
 he was nominated as senator, and his name pre- 
 sented to the sovereign. 
 
 It should, however, be stated that among these 
 men M. Jules Favre alone maintained to the last 
 the convictions of his life, and made no pretence 
 
222 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 of making peace with the Empire ; he held firmly, 
 under the new order of things, as in the old days 
 of December Second, to his republican creed, 
 and neither his words nor his public acts ad- 
 mitted of the slightest equivocation. 
 
 The voice of M. Jules Favre carried with it 
 great weight in the parliamentary discussions 
 of the Second Empire, and was one of strong 
 influence in the opposition movement. Although 
 this chapter belongs properly to M. Emile Olli- 
 vier, at one time his friend, but who afterwards 
 became his rival and his enemy, it has seemed 
 to me necessary to pause and consider him. 
 
 M. Jules Favre was an orator of true power, 
 and the charm of his voice is still remembered. 
 This voice was, however, capable of fierce tones 
 in which a vehement and savage oratory found 
 expression ; at a time when men were still liable 
 to parliamentary challenge, and when the enthu- 
 siasm of the masses was unroused by the course 
 of events, his eloquence stirred them, and in- 
 spired their minds with hope and with ambition ; 
 their eyes magnified him who was thus their 
 friend, as a child's thought magnifies the great- 
 ness of some fabulous hero whose wild adven- 
 tures have been recounted. 
 
 Sessions of any solemnity at the Palais-Bour- 
 bon, sessions during which political questions 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 223 
 
 were exclusively discussed, were most rare under 
 the Second Empire ; but when they did occur, 
 M. Jules Favre assumed a curious and interest- 
 ing attitude. 
 
 This man, who knew so well how to address 
 the people, had an instinctive dislike of a multi- 
 tude. On the days when he was to speak, he 
 hastened to the Legislative Corps before the 
 doors were opened, and withdrew to an ante- 
 room, where he sought to collect his powers. 
 Stretched on a lounge, or reclining in an arm- 
 chair, his large portfolio upon his knees, he 
 meditated upon his coming address. From 
 time to time an awful grimace would distort 
 his mouth — that satanic mouth, in which the 
 tongue of anger would seem to play, and at 
 the same time kisses to linger ; that famous 
 mouth, which could express with equal force 
 hatred and love. With his right hand, white 
 and delicately veined like that of a woman, he 
 stroked gently his long beard, in which were 
 some streaks of grey. From time to time he 
 would shake back his long, thick masses of hair, 
 and then become motionless once more, absently 
 listening to the distant stir of life, cradled vo- 
 luptuously in his dream, in his power and in 
 his popularity. 
 
 He would then emerge from his retreat, and 
 
224 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 proceed toward the assembly-room, to see if his 
 audience were fully gathered. Satisfied as to 
 this, and winning more than one admiring 
 glance, as also more than one expression of 
 hostility, he would slowly traverse the semi- 
 circle. The public responded eagerly when it 
 heard that he was to speak. Ambassadors, 
 statesmen, princes of the blood, electioneers, 
 noisy financiers, the great women of fashion, 
 women prominent in politics, enthusiasts from 
 the lower classes, and the great courtiers of the 
 day, alike bowed down before him, and cast upon 
 him glances of admiration and smiles of favor 
 as he passed. He heard every slightest remark 
 which was exchanged ; and under this rain of 
 words and of tender glances, he drew himself 
 up with a delicious sense of satisfaction, as if 
 he would encore it all, his heart exalted by the 
 force of pride. The perfumes which filled the 
 room, the toilettes which were about him, 
 the bated breath, the women who waited in 
 eager expectation and with heaving breasts, in- 
 toxicated him. He breathed in the fragrance 
 of the room, his lips quivered as under the pres- 
 sure of a kiss, when he saw the approving smiles 
 which were showered upon him ; a sensual ecs- 
 tasy took possession of his mind and body ; he 
 stumbled in passing out of the hall, and when 
 
M. EMILE 0LL1VIER. 225 
 
 he was once again in the ante-room, he sank 
 down, exhausted, with a long, deep sigh. 
 
 He was superb when standing in the tribune. 
 His huge figure commanded the admiration of 
 the Assembly ; his broad shoulders seemed to 
 fill, nay, to outflank, if I may so speak, this 
 tribune, which grew too narrow for him. His 
 sleek white hands played along its edge in ner- 
 vous unrest. He directed one glance toward 
 the crowded benches of the hall, toward the 
 galleries filled with those who had come to 
 hear him, then gathered himself together, and 
 in accents dull and monotonous at the outset, 
 and vibrating with emotion as he continued, 
 M. Jules Favre spoke. 
 
 Slowly and at length he unfolded the sub- 
 ject of his discourse, considering in its minutest 
 details the subject which interested him. At 
 times his mouth was distorted by that strange, 
 characteristic grimace, and he would break out 
 into violent expressions. He revelled in the 
 sound of applause which filled the left wing of 
 the room. His voice became more urgent, 
 more bitter ; and it was with a sort of death- 
 rattle in his throat that he described the 
 tyranny, the moral agony, in which he claimed 
 that the country was dying. A smile would 
 then return to his lips as he assumed a tone 
 
226 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 of mockery, and exchanged the dagger of hatred 
 for the corded lash of sarcasm ; then, suddenly, 
 he would break forth once more into fury. He 
 walked up and down in the great tribune, which 
 creaked under his steps. His arm extended 
 as though to indicate an enemy, had an awful 
 fascination ; his nostrils dilated, his eyelids 
 opened and shut in a weird, grotesque way, 
 while his chest heaved and swelled like a 
 smithy's forge. Every now and then one of 
 his strange, rough gutturals would interrupt a 
 sentence, breaking into it like an hiccough. 
 His body thrown backward, his hand thrust 
 forward with a threatening gesture, none knew 
 better than he how to curse and to imprecate. 
 His dark face became purple, the blood mounted 
 to his neck, his hair fell in tangled masses over 
 his foreheadj while the grimace on his mouth 
 became convulsive. 
 
 His perorations were marvellous. His ex- 
 citement increased toward the close of his 
 discourse, but it was no longer anger or hatred 
 which inspired him ; he abandoned for a mo- 
 ment the narrow radius of his subject, and 
 generalised the whole problem which he was 
 treating, his accents growing gentle as he spoke 
 of liberty. He felt a thrill of voluptuous joy, 
 he caressed liberty as does a man the woman 
 
M. EMILE OLLIV1ER. 227 
 
 whom he loves ; he adorned it and made it 
 beautiful, he depicted it under its most seduc- 
 tive aspects, he loved it as a serpent loves a 
 bowl of milk. His audience listened to him 
 astonished. Suddenly he raised a last cry, a 
 shudder shook him, a spasm controlled his 
 whole frame. He then brought his address to 
 an end, and in his final sentences rang, as it 
 were, prophetic despair and anguish. He for- 
 got the great hall and his colleagues. The peo- 
 ple, however, could hear him none the less, and 
 it was well for them that he spoke. When 
 at last he was silent, he still remained for a 
 moment in the tribune as though riveted there, 
 as though fascinated by the strange ecstasy 
 which had taken possession of him. 
 
 There were few republican salons under the 
 Second Empire ; and the men of the opposition 
 gathered for conference either in the offices of 
 some of those few journals which were bold 
 enough to oppose the policy of the Tuileries, 
 or else at the home of one of the members. 
 M. Jules Favre was among those who thus 
 received his friends, studying with them the 
 questions of the day, and determining their 
 attitude in public debates. 
 
 He was the recognised and respected leader 
 of the liberal party, to whom the heads of cer- 
 
228 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 tain cliques and many parliamentarians came, 
 especially during the last days of the Empire, 
 to receive orders before giving battle. They 
 issued from such conferences armed and in- 
 structed, moulded according to his wishes, 
 submissive to his views, charmed, too, and 
 anointed for the battle like the athletes of 
 ancient days. Old and young listened to his 
 sacred words — the young for the sake of im- 
 buing their hopes with a new enthusiasm, the 
 old to strengthen their convictions, which, 
 through a continual course of disappointments, 
 at times wavered. 
 
 When the Empire adopted its liberal policy, 
 and when M. Emile Ollivier took direction of 
 the new movement, M. Jules Favre was filled 
 with both surprise and fear, — with surprise be- 
 cause his rival had outstripped him in the race 
 after power, with fear because new complica- 
 tions threatened, whose results he could not 
 foretell. 
 
 When M. Emile Ollivier, son of the pro- 
 script, became an advocate of the Empire, the 
 ranks of the republican opposition felt that they 
 had received their death-blow. He had a com- 
 manding figure, a large, thick mouth, and eyes 
 hidden by enormous glasses ; but behind his 
 cold personality lay a violent temperament and 
 
M. EM1LE 0LL1VIER. 229 
 
 terrible passions. His attitude in the tribune 
 was as authoritative as was that of M. Jules 
 Favre, who, from the outset, realised that he 
 should sometime hate this man. 
 
 There was another obstacle in the way of M. 
 Jules Favre's personal aggrandisement. On 
 the horizon of the political world, or more 
 properly of the republican world, a dangerous 
 man arose, whose earnest and powerful words 
 attracted the attention of the public, and gave 
 birth to new hopes and enthusiasms. This 
 man was M. Ldon Gambetta; and M. Jules 
 Favre, though he received him with every ap- 
 pearance of joy, was frightened by the popularity 
 which he won, and by the consequent lessening 
 of his own. 
 
 M. Leon Gambetta was such a character as 
 one calls a "type." He arrived in Paris from 
 the south of France, where he was born ; and 
 there, for a time lost in the crowd, he watched 
 and waited. A Jupiter Tonans of breweries 
 and of wine-cellars, he won the reputation of a 
 statesman in the narrow streets and small hos- 
 telries of the Latin Quarter. One fine day, 
 however, he went before the bar to plead in a 
 political suit, and one evening he made his 
 voice heard in an electoral reunion, where he 
 exposed a complete programme of social re- 
 
230 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 forms. He won on these occasions the appro- 
 bation of the people, helped somewhat by his 
 southern bombast. He insured his nomination 
 to the deputation, and was at the end elected. 
 Despite his fretful voice and his emaciated 
 body, he acquired an immediate and a real 
 authority. 
 
 His manners in society were peculiar to him- 
 self. He walked on wax floors with his legs 
 wide apart to prevent slipping. When he per- 
 ceived a friend or an acquaintance across the 
 room, he would call out, " Te ! " He was very 
 familiar in his gestures, and would seize those 
 to whom he was talking under their arms, and 
 pull them about roughly, often playing with 
 their coat-lining, and tapping and thumping 
 their bodies. When he encountered a political 
 adversary, he had always at his command subtle 
 methods of changing his spirit to that of a friend 
 and partisan. He entrapped him in his bom- 
 bast, in that never-failing southern bombast, 
 until at last one was ready to forgive his inde- 
 corum and his bad manners, and to excuse every 
 failing, conscious only of his kind spirit and his 
 good comradeship. 
 
 He was often wonderfully fortunate in his 
 choice of language ; it was he who invented 
 that famous word " irreconcilables " to desig- 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 23 1 
 
 nate the militant element of the opposition ; 
 this epithet travelled through the country, and 
 ensured his social success better than an hun- 
 dred discourses would have done. 
 
 The world of Bohemia entered the Chamber 
 together with him in 1869. This Bohemia, 
 however, bore no resemblance to that of former 
 times ; it nourished neither love nor vague 
 dreams, and had in it no spirit of sentimen- 
 tality. It was the popular Bohemia which spoke 
 through Leon Gambetta ; and it became terrible, 
 hip-shot and ragged as it was, when he made its 
 voice heard in the parliamentary tribune. It 
 acquired a rough vigour like that of a working- 
 woman ; it spoke with boldness, and in accents 
 of intoxication, like those which are heard in 
 the street, and became like a swarm of enraged 
 hornets escaped from the hive. 
 
 M. Jules Favre was afraid of the boldness of 
 Gambetta. He tried to keep him always in 
 view, to make of him a sort of lion. He argued 
 that his only safety lay in maintaining control 
 over this man, in having him, as it were, under 
 his thumb ; for, did he escape, he would have 
 everything to fear from him. 
 
 M. Jules Favre was ready to endure Gambetta 
 just as he was, with his careless habits and his 
 disordered hair. Gambetta did not know it ; but 
 
232 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 he was made to pass under the yoke by M. Jules 
 Favre, who awed by his aristocratic bearing this 
 rugged revolutionist, and who petted and ca- 
 ressed him, feeling it far wiser to be on his 
 guard, and to defend himself against this pro- 
 duct of street-life, against his power and au- 
 thority. Gambetta, the Bohemian, would be 
 looked upon as a gamin in Paris, an object from 
 whom the social world would turn away, and 
 from whom there was little to dread ; Gambetta 
 adorned with conventionalities would become a 
 rival, and M. Jules Favre had already as such 
 M. Emile Ollivier. 
 
 M. Leon Gambetta, nevertheless, became one 
 day just that power which M. Jules Favre had 
 feared to see arise ; he became the controlling 
 voice in Parliament and throughout the whole 
 nation ; it was his influence which caused the 
 downfall of the government which succeeded 
 the Empire, that ill-conceived and detested gov- 
 ernment of Marshal Macmahon. Social and 
 diplomatic worlds were opened to him. He 
 was no longer that colossal anomaly of former 
 days, no longer the intemperate politician, un- 
 controlled in word and in deed, and newly im- 
 ported from the south. He was eminently 
 conventional ; his hair, which of old fell over 
 his shoulders like a lion's mane, was now exqui- 
 
M. EMILE OLUVIER. 233 
 
 sitely brushed and curled. He no longer called 
 " Te ! " when he entered the luxurious drawing- 
 rooms whose hospitality was freely extended to 
 him ; he was able to keep his balance on waxed 
 floors without spreading his legs apart. He 
 remained, however, enthusiastic and excitable ; 
 and it happened occasionally that, carried away 
 by his interest in a discussion, he would seize 
 his interlocutor by his coat-collar, which he 
 pulled and shook as though he would tear it to 
 pieces. Gambetta, however, was celebrated ; 
 Gambetta was powerful ; and his social lapses 
 were attributed to his fiery temperament, and 
 were tolerated. They were laughed at good- 
 humouredly, with a flattering sense of conde- 
 scension and a blissful vanity on the part of 
 those who were his social superiors ; but Gam- 
 betta, perceiving the smiles, became suddenly 
 cold, assumed his polished manners, and would 
 have deceived the most careful observer. He 
 was a clever man, and one of true intellectual 
 calibre. Starting at the very base, he had 
 climbed the highest peak, and attained a power 
 not to be overlooked. From below, the world 
 might look up and salute him. His life was 
 certainly not commonplace. It had advanced 
 by means of long, high flights ; it was full of 
 charlatanisms, of cowardice, and again of cour- 
 
234 NAPOLEON III 
 
 age, and is an almost unanalysable compound. 
 Whatever the verdict of the past, whatever that 
 of the years to come shall be, it is worthy of 
 some degree of admiration and also of envy. 
 This democrat, this product of an obscure cor- 
 ner of France, had a subtle sense of distinctions, 
 and a statesmanlike foresight and judgment. 
 Europe and the foreign courts feared at the out- 
 set his flushed face and his imprecating voice 
 with its tones of martial command, its low 
 thunder like that of cannon, and, withal, its 
 irresistible magnetic power. He had, however, 
 the good fortune to charm the Prince of Wales, 
 as, indeed, he charmed little and great who 
 came into contact with him. His pride and 
 self-consciousness were calculated to reassure 
 those who were inclined to doubt. He, on the 
 other hand, feeling himself obeyed, admired, and 
 applauded by his very opponents, hurried on 
 toward glory, intoxicated by popularity. Gam- 
 betta was a patriot ; and France loved him, re- 
 membering that in hours of affliction he had 
 consoled, he had revived its courage, by telling 
 it falsehoods perhaps, but with a spirit of true 
 righteousness, and by giving to such falsehoods 
 the sacred character of dauntless resolution and 
 of noble hopes. Gambetta was generous and 
 good. His friends adored him ; and he, despite 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 235 
 
 the constant praise and approbation which were 
 showered on him, was more gratified by their 
 proofs of affection than by the voice of public 
 eulogy, which made itself heard round him like 
 the sound of a rising tide. 
 
 M. Jules Favre was unwilling to share with 
 others any portion of his political success. He 
 had earned, by the sweat of his brow, the posi- 
 tion which he occupied, and he was jealous of 
 its possession. He wished for himself its full 
 and undivided occupancy, and would have pro- 
 tested to the very death against the participa- 
 tion of others in his privileges. He had been 
 cast naked and unknown into the streets of a 
 great city. His heart had often suffered from 
 cold in the midst of his work ; he had met with 
 outrageous scorn from that great class of nin- 
 nies and of egoists by which the world is popu- 
 lated, a class made up of the rich and the 
 fortunate, and whose stormy tide carries with 
 it great blocks of gold which bar the way to 
 thinkers and to ambitious men whose hearts 
 are filled with longing to reach their goal. He 
 remembered now with bitterness this phase of 
 his life, and the remembrance furnished his 
 heart with claws. What could modesty accom- 
 plish in the world of ease and luxury at whose 
 threshold he stood ? Nothing. It was through 
 
236 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 work alone that he could attain the existence 
 for which he longed, and it was as a reward for 
 work that he claimed his share of life's pleas- 
 ures. He could have divided his time as others 
 have done, and consecrated one part to study, 
 the other to rest, to the joys of love, and to the 
 satisfaction of the senses ; but he was among 
 those who make no false resolutions. He had 
 crushed in himself every youthful aspiration, 
 all thought of pleasure, and had nailed mind 
 and flesh and nerves to his desk, resolving 
 neither to close his books nor to raise his eyes 
 till he had attained his object. This self- 
 inflicted abuse embittered him ; and now that 
 he had become a power and an object of envy, 
 he remembered with a feeling of resentment his 
 former isolation and his hours of moral suffering 
 and of hard struggle. His life had been one of 
 unspotted chastity, and his determination that 
 it should be so rose like a lump in his throat 
 and choked him with rage and with regret. It 
 was, however, through his purity of life that he 
 acquired his strength. From the outset of his 
 career he exerted complete control over his 
 feelings, and was unflinching in this self- 
 imposed mortification of the flesh. He had, 
 it is true, moments of feverish and passionate 
 revolt ; his heart was touched by sensual 
 
M. EM1LE OLLIVIER. 237 
 
 beauties, and his nature more than once 
 breathed in the fragrance of some fair woman 
 who passed him by. The burden, however, of 
 his pride, of his studies, and of his ambition 
 soon crushed in him the fugitive passion ; and 
 it was with a steady and an even step that he 
 entered his own door, and seated himself ,at his 
 table which was covered with papers and books. 
 The barrenness of his youth had given his face 
 the pinched and bloodless look of an ascetic, 
 and an expression of unrest like that of one 
 who has suffered from poverty and disgrace. 
 To see him walk through the streets with his 
 great shoulders thrown back, his black hair 
 hanging in profusion, his face wearing its ex- 
 pression of severity, was to be reminded of a 
 wild animal seeking prey. 
 
 His hour came at last. He suddenly rose 
 from the crowded and dirty streets and salons 
 of Paris. Through the midst of the Empire's 
 deep silence his voice was heard ; and its echo 
 was carried far, like the howl of a hungry 
 wolf prowling the forests by night. He saw 
 ahead of him a multitude drunk with its pleas- 
 ures, and this multitude sought to keep him 
 back. He, however, elbowed his way through 
 its midst, he raised his clinched fist and over- 
 threw every obstacle. He understood that 
 
238 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 there was a great work to be done at the begin- 
 ning of this epoch of struggle and of visionary- 
 dreams. The imperial sun shone in full splen- 
 dour, and threw floods of light upon the past, 
 whose legendary spirit had been revived. The 
 sunrise gun of the Bonapartes saluted each 
 morning the dawn of new glories ; men shouted 
 the praises of the sovereign, and women laid at 
 his feet their hearts, which were woven of the 
 threads of worldly desire. The spirit of luxury 
 used its corded lash on reformers and on philos- 
 ophers. From one end of France to the other a 
 great chain extended, composed of the fools and 
 extravagant pleasure-lovers who had been fright- 
 ened by long years of austerity, but who rose 
 when the reveille sounded at the Tuileries. 
 Life was good ; humanity ate and drank and 
 made love. Wine and blood mingled ; and 
 bodies were made to dance to the music of an 
 invisible orchestra, the death-dance of voluptu- 
 ous indulgence. Thought, however, was dead. 
 It lay far away in the corner of some cemetery, 
 buried in the common grave where are laid 
 misery and shame. Soul had flowed from the 
 veins of the nation, veins severed by the knife 
 of materialistic pleasure. The spirit of sensu- 
 ality now stretched itself out, and fed upon the 
 lips of false love as a courtier upon those of a 
 
M. EM1LE OLLMER. 239 
 
 fair virgin. Laughter was the order of the 
 day. The world was made to laugh at any 
 cost, and those who allowed themselves the 
 luxury of weeping were sent away. 
 
 M. Jules Favre was conscious of all the ben- 
 efits which he might reap from this half-mad 
 world. It required some courage to seek to 
 check a movement which was carrying the 
 people with it. He had the necessary courage, 
 however, and he rose before the nation. He 
 turned toward the graveyard, where he found, 
 in misery and the agony of death, thought and 
 liberty. He descended into the grave where 
 they lay not quite motionless, gnawed by the 
 worms of oblivion ; and taking in his arms what 
 remained of the two bodies, he cast them one 
 fatal day on the steps of the imperial throne. 
 A strange terror took possession of the nation. 
 The odour of the tomb, mingling with the seduc- 
 tive perfumes of the women, slowed for a moment 
 the dizzying dance of the century. Society was 
 astonished, and asked who this man was, this 
 new Hamlet, who went by night to graveyards 
 to play with the dead. Spirits of the past rose 
 at the voice of M. Jules Favre, and through the 
 nation there was felt the stir of life like the 
 restless movement of caged beasts longing for 
 liberty. 
 
240 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 During the last days of. imperial Rome, when 
 the laughter of partricians was suddenly inter- 
 rupted by the voice of a reformer, the nation 
 sought out that voice, and took possession of 
 the rising tribune, and cast him into the circus. 
 The Caesars, having fallen into an unwholesome 
 sleep, did not wish to be disturbed in the 
 satiety of their pleasures. Those who were 
 content with life as it was, were surprised by 
 the sudden apparition of M. Jules Favre, and 
 tried to imitate the Caesars of former days. 
 They cried shame at him, for he was, a revolu- 
 tionist whom it was essential to suppress. 
 Though there was no arena into which they 
 might throw him, there was still the galley ; it 
 would be very simple to send him to the col- 
 onies. Every act of folly which anger can in- 
 spire was suggested and countenanced. The 
 Emperor alone remained ignorant of public sen- 
 timent, holding himself aloof from all the follies 
 which eddied round his throne. He left M. 
 Jules Favre entire liberty to insure his authority 
 and to attain his goal. M. Jules Favre, for his 
 part, was little disturbed by the insults which 
 the papers each morning heaped upon him and 
 which in the evening were repeated in the 
 drawing-room. He ignored, or feigned to ig- 
 nore, the forebearance shown him by the sov- 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 24 1 
 
 ereign, and followed his straight path without 
 pause or digression. He spoke in the Palais 
 de Justice ; he monopolised every political pro- 
 ceeding which attracted public notice, and his 
 power increased with conspicuous rapidity. He 
 had made a great leap from the bench where 
 he had once sat, and at the time of elec- 
 tions he now set his great body down in the 
 popular tribune of public reunions. His suc- 
 cess had been tremendous. Having attained 
 the first halting-place in his career, he paused 
 for a moment and took time to consider the 
 best course ; then, with a sense of assurance, 
 defied with renewed vigour the governmental 
 majority which rebelled at his advance. 
 
 The elevation, the triumph, of M. Jules Favre, 
 had certainly exerted no check on the enticing 
 follies by which the generation was led. Vague 
 anxiety was roused by his extraordinary success, 
 and the people realised that a new and terrible 
 power had risen ; but so slight an event could 
 hardly serve to change the tide of life. They 
 even rushed on more rapidly than ever in their 
 race after joy, love, and largess ; they raised 
 their laughter louder than before when this 
 great orator spoke, preferring not to hear his 
 voice, which sounded like the roll of thunder 
 rising above the orchestra of a dance-hall. 
 
242 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 i 
 
 He, however, valued but little the praise 
 which he won, and was little disturbed by op- 
 position. He counted, weighed, and classified 
 the feelings of hatred which he roused, not for 
 the sake of satisfying any feeling of anger or of 
 bitterness, but merely that he might understand 
 the conditions surrounding him, and be ready, 
 should necessity arise, to combat them. 
 
 Faith in virtue and in friendship seemed to 
 him, in this age of selfishness and of delirium, 
 vain and deceptive. To give one's love to any 
 human being, to consecrate to anybody the best 
 that is in one, without having even the satis- 
 faction of believing that at death this person 
 will come to press the cold and rigid hand, 
 seemed to him an act which involved much 
 unnecessary suffering. M. Jules Favre was a 
 sceptic, and a pessimist in his methods of reason- 
 ing. In politics he would have demanded 
 nothing better than to belong to no party ; 
 but such a line of action would have been dan- 
 gerous ; and it was necessary for him to choose 
 his side, whether he did so from earnest and 
 passionate motives or with a spirit of calm 
 indifference. He chose the former, and di- 
 rected his sympathies — for he had thorough 
 control over his nature — toward revolutionary 
 doctrines. He became the advocate of liberty 
 
M. EMILE OLLIV1ER. 243 
 
 through no heart-felt conviction, but because he 
 found in liberty a mine not yet worked, or at 
 least but insufficiently worked, and from which 
 he hoped to gain some riches. Had austerity 
 been the order of the day, he would, perhaps, 
 have preached a life of pleasure, and with his 
 soft and aristocratic hands have shaken the 
 bells upon the jester's cap. Never having truly 
 lived, M. Jules Favre was yet blast. There 
 was no hypocrisy in his nature. " Force is 
 stronger than justice," was the motto of his 
 life, the device which he had ever before him. 
 He felt that logically and inevitably the strong 
 must impose upon the weak. The success of 
 his plans was largely due to the fact that he 
 built on this basis, and to attain his purpose 
 abandoned every prejudicial scruple. He was 
 shrewd and far-seeing, and in this and in no 
 other qualities lay his power. 
 
 Judged according to the social conventionali- 
 ties which regulate our political and moral con- 
 dition, M. Jules Favre was a dishonest man, 
 capable of committing any roguery conducive 
 to the realisation of his wishes and to the at- 
 tainment of a fortune. Should we, however, on 
 this account judge him severely ? Should we 
 not take into consideration the circumstances 
 under which he was born, and by which he be- 
 
244 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 came the natural product of a spirit of ill-will 
 and of vulgarity ? The virus of hatred had 
 infected his blood ; but was it not the long 
 period of mourning through which he passed 
 in his solitary, his ascetic life, and the battles 
 waged against his violent and passionate nature, 
 which had engendered this venom, or which, at 
 least, had determined the evolution of his na- 
 ture ? He was undoubtedly a philosopher ; his 
 doctrines were based on ancient cynicism, had, 
 indeed, but cast off the mantle of antiquity, 
 and adorned themselves in that of an advanced 
 civilisation. 
 
 His authority had been long in developing ; 
 he had the opposing force of the Empire to 
 overcome, but, once gained, his power was no 
 mockery ; it rose like a threatening spirit on 
 days of solemn festivity, and it passed to the very 
 foot of the throne. From the top of the legis- 
 lative tribune M. Jules Favre placed his author- 
 ity in opposition to that of the sovereign, and 
 was master of a pack of howling rebels. He 
 was invulnerable from many sides, yet he was 
 not thoroughly consistent in his Jacobite sever- 
 ity. There was in his refined and sensitive 
 nature a sort of veiled mysticism which he 
 himself had never thoroughly analysed. This 
 quality, which his purity of life served to ex- 
 
M. EMILE OLUV1ER. 245 
 
 alt, led him toward a religious idealism, and 
 prompted a life of renunciation and of contem- 
 plation. Having denied himself sensual joys, 
 and believing that he had destroyed all fleshly 
 desires, M. Jules Favre still felt a need of the 
 extra-natural which takes possession of the as- 
 cetic with all the imperative force of a mono- 
 mania. He required a safety-valve for his 
 overflowing thought, and made the church a 
 confidante of his secret ecstasies, for he was sin- 
 cerely religious. At seven o'clock each Sunday 
 morning he went to the Madeleine, where he 
 listened piously, his nose in a great prayer-book, 
 to the orisons of a priest. This curious trait 
 of character, which was universally recognised, 
 called forth no mockery from his political 
 friends. They were afraid of him, and well 
 knew that were he once irritated he would be 
 slow to forgive. Only one man, a Don Quixote 
 born of the Revolution, dared to criticise him. 
 
 "He is," said this man, "a Marat turned 
 Jesuit." This remark, which described him 
 most truly, had an immense success, and has 
 retained its celebrity. 
 
 M. Jules Favre of his own free will conse- 
 crated his whole being to the selfish satisfaction 
 of his political ambition, and yet politics made 
 of him an object of hatred. Unknown to him- 
 
246 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 self, his weary soul sought to quench the thirst 
 from which it suffered ; it asked of the church 
 the rest and peace supplied by its shadowy vault- 
 ings, and there it breathed in great draughts of 
 life which he denied it. The spirit of sensual- 
 ity, checked and restrained by a terrible will, 
 groaned still within this pure man, in whom 
 were yet many sleeping passions. The spirit 
 of sensuality was not dead, but only bound, and 
 it waged constant warfare with his self-interested 
 ambition. A warfare such as this is both cruel 
 and hideous. It is a monstrous thing to see a 
 soul struggling in the tight embrace of an insa- 
 tiable egoism. M. Jules Favre never spoke of 
 the secret struggles of his life, of his nights 
 without sleep, of the nervous sufferings by 
 which he was tortured, or of those wild pas- 
 sions which interrupted the peace of his solitary 
 hours. He kept such trials secret to himself. 
 On the day succeeding a great moral crisis he 
 was just as cheerful, just as calm and authorita- 
 tive, as before. His heart was a sealed book, 
 and it was in his excessive reserve that his 
 power lay. He had truly cause for pride ; for 
 despite every failing, every weakness, he re- 
 mained a great and an awe-inspiring man. He 
 was, perhaps, a " Marat turned Jesuit ; " but such 
 an epithet seems still to say, " This is indeed a 
 man." 
 
M. EMILE OLLMER. 247 
 
 I am, perhaps, allowing my thoughts to be 
 carried far from the original subject of this 
 chapter, but I repeat that M. Jules Favre occu- 
 pied under the Second Empire a place of too 
 great importance to admit of neglect. It has 
 seemed to me equally natural to mention M. 
 Gambetta here. My sketches of their charac- 
 ters will certainly not be unwelcome to the 
 reader ; for, if he has lived during the time of 
 Napoleon III., they will call to his remembrance 
 the physiognomy of the principal men who di- 
 rected the liberal movement at this period ; if 
 he is too young to remember this reign, they 
 will give him an artistic appreciation of the 
 celebrated people and events which have now 
 passed away. 
 
 I return now to M. Emile Ollivier. 
 
 Of all the men who, under the Second Empire, 
 by their earnest language and their political ac- 
 tivity, held the attention of the people, M. Emile 
 Ollivier should rise in startling relief, should be 
 granted an high place on the horizon of history. 
 There was in his life an element of mystery and 
 of fatality, which pursues him even now in the 
 false appreciation which attaches to his name. 
 It was, indeed, by a mysterious fatality that he 
 was chosen as an instrument through which 
 Napoleon III. should speak to the people. 
 
248 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 M. Emile Ollivier was not a plebeian like M. 
 Rouher, for his tastes were literary, and he was 
 himself a writer of some little power ; nor was 
 he, like M. Jules Favre, an ascetic constantly 
 exposed to the danger of losing the fruit of his 
 abstinence by a sudden and imperative passion, 
 by a sudden revolt of the senses, for he had no 
 terror of women ; yet he remained faithful to his 
 home and family, only abandoning the field of 
 political battle that he might enjoy the repose 
 of his own hearth and devote his thoughts to 
 the welfare of his household. 
 
 His political career began early ; and, by a 
 strange coincidence, this career, which ended in 
 sorrow and disaster, also opened with the noise 
 of calamity. On the day succeeding the second 
 of September, when he was hardly grown to 
 manhood, he saw his father dragged from case- 
 mate to casemate, saw him barely escape ban- 
 ishment to Cayenne, which was the penalty 
 imposed on many of his co-religionists. Thanks 
 to the friendly intervention of Jerome, the old 
 king of Westphalia, uncle of Louis Bonaparte, 
 thanks also to the friendship of Prince Napoleon, 
 M. Emile Ollivier was able to obtain the release 
 of his father and to procure him a place of safety 
 abroad. 
 
 Owing to his strongly philosophic spirit, his 
 
M. EMILE OLL1VIER. 249 
 
 memory of these days was mingled with no 
 sense of bitterness, though they had brought 
 such keen suffering to one whom he adored, 
 and by whom he was intelligently and tenderly 
 loved. His opposition to the Empire was in no 
 sense due to the trials which he had suffered or 
 to feelings of personal resentment ; and I am 
 among those who, far from condemning this 
 absence of bitterness as blameworthy or politic 
 indifference to the claims of affection, find in 
 it a spirit of stoicism which can but inspire 
 admiration. 
 
 This man seems, in truth, to have thought 
 little of popularity or power as far as these 
 remained a mere personal gratification ; his aim 
 seems to have been to attain a political ideal 
 which should be as far as possible conformable 
 to his convictions and to his theories of liberal- 
 ity ; never, however, did he, in seeking the 
 realisation of his hopes, place himself in con- 
 spicuous opposition to the authority of the 
 Emperor Napoleon III. His attitude before 
 the public was never that of an irreconcilable 
 enemy of the Tuileries, nor was his position 
 before the Tuileries that of a candidate for any 
 favour, or of a man hoping for a ministry ; he 
 waited quietly, absorbed in the pursuit of his 
 own purposes, the advent of a new order of 
 
2 SO NAPOLEON HI. 
 
 things to which he would not be loath to give 
 his approbation and his succour. Such an atti- 
 tude as this was full of danger ; and to maintain 
 it required all the charm of language, all the 
 authority which his name commanded. 
 
 From the time of his election to the Legisla- 
 tive Corps, and, indeed, from that of his entrance 
 into the Palais-Bourbon, he was fully aware of 
 its consequences. He wrote to his father, who 
 was in exile in Florence, to ask if it were right 
 for him to take the oath of allegiance to the 
 Emperor, whether he could with a free con- 
 science swear fidelity to a man who had taken 
 from him that which was dearest on earth ? If, 
 in short, his duty were not to refuse an oath 
 which seemed a violation of conscience, and 
 whether by taking it he would not necessarily 
 sacrifice his independence ? His father replied 
 that he was at liberty to take the oath which 
 was required of him ; that in so doing he would 
 not abandon his independence or his convictions, 
 but that it would impose on him certain conse- 
 quences ; that it would, for instance, forbid 
 traitorous designs, and compel him to pursue 
 his labours, though not under the patronage of 
 the Emperor, at least without enmity against 
 him. 
 
 Henceforth M. Emile Ollivier, strengthened 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 25 1 
 
 by his father's sanction and approval, saw 
 clearly the course which he was called on to 
 follow through life ; and no circumstances led 
 him to diverge from the path which he had 
 chosen. 
 
 I feel it necessary to give here an impartial 
 account and explanation of the line of conduct 
 pursued by M. Emile Ollivier under the Second 
 Empire. My judgment is, I know, in opposition 
 to that of most who have studied the character 
 of this man. It will, perhaps, astonish those 
 who are the too violent partisans of a system 
 which grants no indulgence to the acts com- 
 mitted by mankind, and wound the unpropitiat- 
 ing faith of those who, having wept, have no 
 pardon in their hearts, no power to forget the 
 cause of their tears ; yet it will, I hope, con- 
 tribute to a better comprehension of the per- 
 sonality of M. Emile Ollivier, and to a more 
 accurate observation of the phases of his politi- 
 cal career. 
 
 The eloquence of M. Jules Favre was justly 
 the object of much pride during the Second 
 Empire, and its academic qualities much ex- 
 tolled. The eloquence of M. Emile Ollivier 
 was no less celebrated, nor did he have less 
 enthusiastic admirers ; that faultlessness of lit- 
 
2 52 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 erary quality, so rare among orators, distin- 
 guished him always. 
 
 M. Jules Favre advanced, as we have seen, 
 toward the tribune in the strength of his com- 
 manding physique and of his deep voice with 
 its vigorous and vehement tones ; M. Emile 
 Ollivier was, on the contrary, held back by the 
 correctness of his person, by the preciseness of 
 his sentences, by the sweetness and charm of 
 his intonation, and by the musical accents which 
 dropped from his lips. It was said of him, as 
 it had been said of a famous tragedian, that he 
 had a voice of gold. The description was accu- 
 rate. Even to-day the voice of M. Emile Ollivier, 
 despite a slight Provencal accent, which, indeed, 
 adds a sort of beauty, like the lisp of a brook 
 flowing over pebbles, has in quiet conversation 
 a metallic sonorousness, a sound of ringing gold, 
 thin, caressing, musical. The Empress, who 
 was not fond of this man, and who, in contrast 
 to her beauty, had a shrill and disagreeable voice, 
 made fun of his tones, and vowed, with frank 
 coquetry, that she was truly jealous of them. 
 
 It would, however, be a mistake to believe 
 that M. Emile Ollivier preserved a constant 
 sweetness of manner, that his language never 
 departed from that special grace which charac- 
 terised it. On occasion he lent to his language 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 253 
 
 all the heat of a fiery eloquence ; and though his 
 gesture remained correct and elegant, though 
 his phraseology lost none of its literary quality, 
 he then rose to the very summit of oratorical art. 
 The present generation, which hears the pub- 
 lic debates of the Chamber, which sees succeed 
 each other daily men well versed in the science 
 of language, in the art of speaking to the masses, 
 remains calm or indifferent at the mention of 
 those orators who triumphed before the war of 
 1870, and cares little to recall their eloquence. 
 It should, nevertheless, be remembered that the 
 Second Empire witnessed oratorical contests as 
 stirring and in every way as fine as those of 
 which the Palais-Bourbon is at present the the- 
 atre. The eloquence, it is true, which moves 
 the public to-day is little like that which a short 
 time ago stirred it to passion. It has changed 
 its tone : it has become violent, aggressive, and 
 malignant. There was formerly more urbanity, 
 a more graceful setting to the attitude and lan- 
 guage of politicians ; there was less independ- 
 ence in their language ; and the constraint 
 which, either by legislative regulations, or by a 
 regard for courtesy which was at that time less 
 scorned than now, had as a result a mode of 
 discussion more refined, and savouring less of a 
 street brawl. 
 
254 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 When M. Jules Favre rose to speak to the 
 Legislative Corps, the warlike attitude which he 
 assumed gave to the debate on which they were 
 entering a character which rendered its results 
 uncertain and perilous. The governmental ma- 
 jority, stirred to opposition, if not at the very 
 outset, at least before the close of the address, 
 by the manner which the speaker adopted as 
 he continued, entrenched themselves behind ob- 
 stinate opposition, and listened, impassive, and 
 with a spirit opposed to every modification, to 
 the apostrophes of the speaker. 
 
 Through the gentleness of M. Emile Ollivier's 
 language, and his lack of party prejudice, this 
 majority felt itself touched, and a vague fear 
 took possession of it. To repel by disdain the 
 arguments presented by him was almost impos- 
 sible, for they seemed to be offered in a spirit 
 of friendliness ; it was still less possible to 
 drown his voice in insults, for he gave no cause 
 for offence. In this mode of gaining the atten- 
 tion of adversaries refractory to conviction, lay 
 for a long time the power gained by M. Emile 
 Ollivier in the official Chambers of the Second 
 Empire. He, however, abandoned this system 
 at last ; at the time, that is, when he took the 
 power into his own hands. 
 
 After this he seemed to lose his self-control, 
 
M. EMILE OLLMER. 255 
 
 unnerved, perhaps, by the events which in quick 
 and disordered succession crowded on each other 
 and harassed his life. He was no longer con- 
 tent with a rhetoric which had undoubtedly 
 possessed much charm, but which had been 
 powerless to produce peace, or to prevent the 
 governmental dislocation which was now un- 
 avoidable, and he became irascible and almost 
 violent. He made short work of those who 
 battered in breach his authority. He raised 
 cries like those of an hunted animal, and his 
 spirit was full of revolt and of fury ; his atti- 
 tude became menacing ; his voice, which seemed, 
 if I may so express myself, to mourn its lost 
 gentleness and grace, became harsh, and rang 
 out like the funeral-knell of his dreams and of 
 his hopes, like the funeral-knell of that freedom 
 for which he had sacrificed so much personal 
 feeling, for which he had undergone so many 
 unjust suspicions. He was, perhaps, very cour- 
 ageous at this moment, but he was certainly 
 most unfortunate. 
 
 The story, or the adventure, which is com- 
 monly called the conversion of M. Emile Olli- 
 vier, is most simple and easy of comprehension. 
 
 M. Emile Ollivier having entered politics free 
 from party prejudice, without thought of satis- 
 
256 NAPOLEON III, 
 
 fying personal hatred or resentment, had no 
 reason to avoid a change of opinion, or to fear 
 an agreement with the men who governed in 
 the Tuileries, or even with the sovereign him- 
 self ; it was in thorough consistency with the 
 attitude which he had assumed that he finally 
 reconciled himself with the Emperor. 
 
 It was through Count Walewski that his 
 first interviews with Napoleon III. were ar- 
 ranged. I have already published conclusive 
 letters on this point. It may, however, be af- 
 firmed that M. de Morny first dispelled in him 
 any fear of an understanding with him whose 
 authoritative government, rather than his own 
 personality, he opposed. 
 
 Many years before he had held any intercouse 
 with the Emperor, M. Emile Ollivier had talked 
 with M. de Morny, who was at that time 
 president of the Legislative Corps, and as a 
 result there had arisen in his heart a sort of 
 sympathy with this bold adventurer, who had 
 played his part in the Coup d'Etat of Decem- 
 ber Second. In his book, Le ig Janvier, we 
 find that he does not forget M. de Morny, 
 but presents him in a light not altogether 
 unfavourable. 
 
 M. de Morny died ; and with him would, per- 
 haps, have perished the projects which he 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 257 
 
 had originated, and the hopes which he had 
 placed in M. Emile Ollivier, had not Count 
 Walewski availed himself of these plans and 
 hopes, and given them a sanction. 
 
 Count Walewski, whose convictions were of 
 the most liberal, liked M. Emile Ollivier. He 
 admired his oratorical gifts and approved their 
 nature. He took no pains to hide his admira- 
 tion from the Emperor, and, indeed, easily per- 
 suaded him that in the more or less distant 
 future this young deputy would be useful as 
 one of his co-workers. 
 
 Napoleon III., who sought strong men at- 
 tached to no political system, and who was 
 glad to gain to his cause men formerly known 
 as adversaries, who, indeed, with a charming 
 coquetry, was rejoiced to run across an enemy 
 for the sake of converting him and for the mere 
 joy of making him a victim of his own charm 
 and wit, received with delight the communica- 
 tion of Count Walewski, and arranged with him 
 for the reception of M. Emile Ollivier at the 
 Tuileries. 
 
 There then came to pass just that which was 
 most in harmony with the temperament of M. 
 Emile Ollivier. He talked with the Emperor, 
 and he listened while the Emperor spoke, and 
 was conquered. In this there is surely no for- 
 
2 $8 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 saking, no betrayal of principles ; and I believe 
 that we may justly ascribe to false exagger- 
 ation and to party bitterness the reproaches 
 and the maledictions called forth by his rec- 
 onciliation with the Emperor. 
 
 If examined calmly and philosophically, it is 
 impossible to gainsay the spirit of sincerity 
 which dictated to M. Emile Ollivier his conduct 
 in this matter. The same sincerity is notice- 
 able in the acts which followed his reconcilia- 
 tion with the Emperor, and especially in those 
 which lend a peculiar character to his short 
 ascent to power. He remained a liberal to the 
 last, and pursued liberty without causing any 
 disquietude to the governmental etiquette, 
 which, indeed, insured him the realisation of 
 his projects, and which protected that liberty 
 which he sought. 
 
 This attitude was one of apparent danger in 
 a country where the spirit of the men who 
 direct public affairs is not always understood 
 or treated with moderation ; in a country, too, 
 whose nervous system is always in a state of 
 excitement, or at least in a state ready to be 
 excited, whose passions are not easily appeased, 
 and which is refractory to all change and adap- 
 tation, to everything which seems like an aban- 
 donment of the faith in which it was cradled. 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 259 
 
 M. Emile Ollivier called forth special bitterness 
 from those who sought to obey their own con- 
 sciences and to keep themselves free from any- 
 party. He saw arise that movement of revolt 
 which led France to renounce her old traditions. 
 
 It must, however, be admitted that his role 
 was that of a man active in government and 
 of a statesman ; it must be admitted, too, that 
 those circumstances which are necessary to the 
 development of the best leaders were lacking to 
 him, and that, having become a minister of 
 Napoleon III., he was far more the victim of 
 circumstance than of the weakness of his own 
 political system. 
 
 Having attained to power, he had to oppose 
 not only his old friends and the falsehood of 
 a legend which represented him as a rene- 
 gade, but also the authorities of the Empire 
 who grouped themselves round the Empress, 
 and a class of misguided men and women who 
 were pursued by the shadow of Napoleon III., 
 and who, with a yet unsatisfied thirst, hastened 
 to recall a political era which had offered them 
 the unalloyed joy of existence. 
 
 Though he was never intimate at court, and 
 though he held himself apart from its frivol- 
 ities, its intrigues, follies, and maliciousness, 
 M. Emile Ollivier was, nevertheless, cruelly 
 
26p NAPOLEON III. 
 
 sensitive to the hostility shown him by the 
 habituis of the Tuileries, and a moment came 
 when he found himself fairly enveloped in this 
 hostility. 
 
 Such a detail as this may appear insignificant 
 in the life of a statesman ; but it has, neverthe- 
 less, its importance. It is necessary to have 
 lived among courtiers, and to have talked with 
 those who have been the objects of their 
 hatred, in order to appreciate the mighty in- 
 fluence that this little world of men and women 
 which moves round a throne has on the affairs 
 of government, and in order to understand the 
 many disasters which, in the destiny of nations, 
 are due to it. 
 
 When, therefore, M. Emile Ollivier became 
 President of the Council in January, 1870, and 
 when he wished to apply to practical ends the 
 policy which he had made his ideal, he found 
 himself confronted by a formidable opposition, 
 composed of those whom he was reported to 
 have abandoned, and also of those whom his 
 origin and theories annoyed. Even the plebis- 
 cite which followed his entrance into the ministry 
 had no power to calm the disturbance ; and 
 after, as before, this appeal to the electors, he 
 had constant warfare to wage against resolute 
 and obstinate adversaries. 
 
M. EMILE 0LL1V1ER. 26 1 
 
 He had for some time been in constant oppo- 
 sition to M. Rouher, and had condemned both 
 the words and the deeds of the vice-emperor. 
 When, therefore, M. Rouher seated himself 
 quietly in the presidential chair of the Senate, 
 M. Emile Ollivier understood that the most 
 violent attacks which were levied against him 
 proceeded from this man, and that it was he 
 who, with a power and influence encouraged by 
 the high approbation of the Empress and by 
 her overwhelming patronage, directed against 
 him the entire army of discontented spirits. 
 He accepted the battle which his rival offered, 
 he resumed the warfare of past years, and the 
 wounds were deep which these two men inflicted 
 on each other. 
 
 These were hours of storm and anguish ; and 
 M. Emile Ollivier, who had courage to assume 
 authority on the very eve of a revolution, at a 
 moment when the fabric of the Empire had 
 already begun to give way, had no chance of 
 victory. A mighty tempest made itself felt 
 from one end of France to the other ; the 
 storm-bell rang through the air, and raised to 
 the very sky its loud notes of warning. M. 
 Emile Ollivier, because he had been unable to 
 check this storm in its course, because he was 
 powerless to master so mighty a force, fell as a 
 
262 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 tree falls when struck by lightning; he was 
 borne away, a shattered wreck, and hurled 
 across space like some stray object seized by 
 the wind. 
 
 The Empire assisted in his annihilation, pub- 
 lic opinion seeking then, as always, some scape- 
 goat on which to lay the burden of errors and 
 crimes, glad to cast on him the responsibility of 
 an Empire's death and of the disasters which 
 France sustained in its heroic struggles against 
 Germany. 
 
 In a subsequent chapter, entitled the " Decla- 
 ration of War," I shall show the true attitude 
 of M. Emile Ollivier at this period, and I shall 
 name without hesitation, basing my statements 
 on fact, the authors really responsible for the 
 campaign of 1870. It will not be difficult to 
 render to him the place which is due him in 
 history, and to remove from his name the accu- 
 sations and the anathemas of which he has 
 been the victim. The task is made more easy 
 by the fact that the prejudice which, till a short 
 time ago was absolutely implacable, has to-day 
 been somewhat modified ; there is accorded to 
 him, as to the memory of Napoleon III., not 
 only absolute freedom of vindication, but also 
 an attentive interest, a feeling of sympathy, and 
 a tardy justice, toward which he may still look, 
 
M. EMILE OLLIVIER. 263 
 
 not for rehabilitation, indeed, for such an ex- 
 pression is hardly appropriate, but for consola- 
 tion and for peace, which will add serenity and 
 pride to his gray hairs. 
 
 I write these things, and am not afraid to do 
 so, because I know that they are true, because 
 falsehood repels me, because I am glad to pay 
 homage to misfortune when that misfortune is 
 unmerited. 
 
 After that fatal hour in which he disappeared 
 from the world of politics, M. Emile Ollivier 
 remained in almost absolute isolation. The 
 Academy, which had received him with joy at 
 the time of his success, and which is usually 
 little influenced by the spirit of the people at 
 large, declined to authorise his inaugural dis- 
 course, because there was in it an eloquent and 
 a courageous eulogy of the sovereign* whom he 
 had served and loved. He resigned after this 
 fresh affront ; and his voice was henceforth 
 seldom heard except in private gatherings, 
 where he spoke to a select audience, of diverse 
 religious questions which he was thoroughly 
 competent to discuss. 
 
 Silence had fallen, or nearly so, on his name, 
 when an incident provoked by Prince Bismarck 
 recalled it to all lips. He then appeared before 
 
264 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 the public, happy in the absolute and unexpected 
 justification which he had received. 
 
 Will, however, this hour, which has put an 
 end to his unpopularity, be followed by those in 
 which M. Emile Ollivier will triumph over the 
 evil stories which have attached to his memory ? 
 Will it be followed by a time when he will once 
 more enter the world of politics and make the 
 nation hear again his voice, that voice of gold ? 
 
 I do not believe that he will ever resume 
 active work in the problems which agitate 
 France. I do not believe that he will become 
 the partisan of that liberty which betrayed him. 
 There are some men who never forgive an un- 
 faithful mistress, and M. Emile Ollivier im- 
 presses me as a man of this nature. Old 
 to-day, in years if not in capabilities, he will 
 remain the impassioned spectator, for passion 
 flows in his blood, and the melancholy spec- 
 tator, too, it may be, of our struggles, our fail- 
 ures, and of the subsequent recovery of our 
 power. His voice, if it is ever raised again, 
 will be but like the soft tones which, according 
 to the faith of mystics, come up from the tombs 
 to console those who still live on the earth, and 
 who are usually unable to understand their 
 message. 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 265 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE APOTHEOSIS. 
 
 When a great drama is approaching its close, 
 when the curtain is about to fall on the heroes 
 and the heroines of a world of imagination, or 
 on the splendours of a ballet, a last scene sud- 
 denly unfolds itself ; it is in this that is found 
 the synthesis of all the words, all the acts, all 
 the charms, which have previously moved and 
 amazed the public ; it is in this that is found 
 the symbol of the idea which was the inspira- 
 tion of the entire play. This supreme revela- 
 tion of a thought fraught in moral agony has 
 its name ; we call it an apotheosis. 
 
 The year 1867 had just opened. The lux- 
 uries, the loves, the follies, and the glories of 
 the Second Empire were about to die. Before 
 passing out, however, from the great gates of the 
 Tuileries, never to return again, before issu- 
 ing thence as a swarm of bees which has lost its 
 queen issues from the hive, and fills the air with 
 stragglers, which beat blindly against trees and 
 walls, — these follies, loves, and spirits of sloth- 
 
266 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 ful luxury raised a loud cry toward heaven and 
 toward mankind, giving the world a last proof 
 of their vitality, inviting it to the final scene of 
 that comedy which night after night had been 
 acted in the great theatre of kings and nations. 
 
 The year 1867 had just opened. The cur- 
 tain rose on the apotheosis of the Second 
 Empire, and revealed, like so many living lies 
 created to conceal the great darkness which was 
 about to succeed the brilliancy of the past, and 
 the storm which was to follow long years of 
 peace, men with crowns on their heads kneel- 
 ing at the feet of Napoleon III., offering him 
 their homage and that of the droves of human- 
 ity, which, like themselves, were prostrate before 
 him and were part of that gigantic and dazzling 
 picture which had the universe as an admiring 
 spectator. 
 
 The year 1867 had just opened. The Second 
 Empire, like a great drum-major, marking time 
 with fife, clarion, and drum, marched before the 
 kings and the emperors of Europe, and bade 
 them sound their trumpets and call the roll of 
 their glories ; then the emperors and the kings 
 sounded their trumpets and called the roll of 
 their glories, as though they had been poor 
 trumpeters, or humble sutlers measuring out 
 the rations of a regiment. The apotheosis was 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 267 
 
 complete and dazzling. The Second Empire 
 seemed to fade away within it, to vanish and 
 give place — itself a thing too paltry for so 
 great a spectacle — to an enormous shadow, 
 a formidable spectre, a spectre which was not 
 unsightly but which rose bright with the glo- 
 ries of the past, and, standing in the soft haze, 
 assumed the figure of that Power which with 
 one thrust of its sword scarred forever at its 
 birth the brow of the century. It seemed as 
 though all the splendours and the glories of the 
 present moment were but the uninterrupted 
 splendours and glories which had filled the 
 reign of Napoleon I., of him who remains for 
 all ages The Emperor. 
 
 The year 1867 had opened. The imperial 
 legend was revived. History was made to lie, 
 and the past was proved a forger ; for that 
 legend which had stolen the voice of fame, hov- 
 ered now in the air with the sound of stirring 
 wings, and the buried glories of the past rose in 
 triumph. The snow and the ice of Russia had 
 vanished, for Alexander, who was their master, 
 is here, bowing before the Emperor; the duke 
 of Reichstadt was not dead, was never buried 
 alive and taken from his father by Austria, for 
 Francis Joseph is here smiling before the Em- 
 peror ; Waterloo is a nightmare, and Bliicher a 
 
268 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 fabulous character, for William of Prussia is 
 leaning on the arm of the Emperor ; Saint- 
 Helena is a melodrama, a product of the fancy, 
 for England sends the son of its queen. to lay 
 his youth at the feet of the Emperor. The 
 century belongs to the Empire ; and the Empire 
 fills it with its power, for the nations now, as of 
 old, are the vassals of the Emperor. 
 
 The year 1867 was at its birth. Its dawn 
 made bright an apotheosis. This apotheosis 
 was, however, a mirage, an illusion. If the year 
 1867 seems to be the synthesis of the reign 
 which it celebrated, it was, nevertheless, power- 
 less to efface the gloom which preceded it. The 
 disasters which it sought to envelop in oblivion 
 had, nevertheless, known actual existence. An 
 abyss was between it and the events which it 
 wished to expel from history. These facts are 
 real and fearful, despite the painted scenes and 
 the bright lights which for a moment concealed 
 them. The chain of continuity between them 
 and the events then in evolution was not 
 broken. When the curtain falls on the last act 
 of the Second Empire, they will come out from 
 the darkness, and once more step upon the 
 stage of the world, and crowd it with their great 
 numbers, sweeping all before them, and strew- 
 ing the boards with ruin, casting at their feet, 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 269 
 
 before the foot-lights, the Emperor, the Em- 
 press, the Prince Imperial, and the whole court, 
 carrying away the eagle from the nation's flag, 
 administering a death-draught to light loves and 
 to laughter, — to the glory and the joy of a 
 nation's existence, — plucking out the very heart 
 of this people, and displaying it, a bloody trophy, 
 in a desolate place. 
 
 There was certainly much falsehood and vain 
 glitter in the imperial magnificence of the year 
 1867, magnificence which had the Exposition 
 as its pretext. We cannot, however, remain 
 true to history and yet doubt that, despite the 
 superficiality of that splendour which character- 
 ised the reign of Napoleon III., and gave to its 
 events an appearance of strength and of vitality 
 which in truth they did not possess, he who 
 reigned at the Tuileries had yet a certain power 
 and renown, that he won the respect of em- 
 perors and kings, and inspired with real fear 
 the nations of Europe. 
 
 It is possible that King William of Prussia 
 and Prince Bismarck had even at this time a 
 wish to lessen the authority of the Empire and 
 to involve Napoleon III. in some imprudent 
 enterprise ; it is not, however, likely that, con- 
 fronted by this Empire which seemed to rest 
 
270 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 on foundations which could not be moved, and 
 by an Emperor who defied destiny, they had 
 any feeling of certainty that a day would dawn 
 when the sovereign whose master they had then 
 become would fly from their attacks, a vanquished 
 power. 
 
 King William and Prince Bismarck had no 
 friendly feelings toward France, and would have 
 asked nothing better than to disarm its author- 
 ity ; but they, like the whole world, were deceived 
 by its appearance of strength, and, like the whole 
 world, yielded to the influences of its imposing 
 personality. They made their plans with a 
 spirit of fatal hesitancy, for it was impossible 
 for them to estimate accurately the state of our 
 military resources. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon III. was not ignorant 
 of the sentiments, more or less sincerely affec- 
 tionate and kindly, entertained for him and his 
 government by foreign monarchs, and he felt 
 that a great display of his army would tend to 
 increase the prestige of France before the 
 nations of Europe. This display took place at 
 Longchamps on the sixth of June, when there 
 gathered on the plain of Boulogne, under the 
 scorching rays of the sun, about one hundred 
 thousand men. 
 
 A review, the great review of the masters of 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS.. 27 1 
 
 the earth who now assembled round Napoleon 
 III., gave the world the assurance of power, and 
 filled it with the honoured glory of a military 
 force at the very zenith of its power. Magenta 
 and Solferino, though now in the background of 
 contemporaneous history, gave to the wild notes 
 of the clarion the flourish of victory, and under 
 the flaming sky the blackened gold of the 
 ancient flags shone with the scintillations of 
 powder. The entire Guard was there, and all 
 the regiments from the various departments of 
 France. In front of the tribunes, where the 
 voice of the crowd was heard like the humming 
 of bees round a hive, the long line of grenadiers 
 and the light companies waited. From behind 
 and toward the right, in the direction of Saint- 
 Cloud, the heavy cavalry emerged, and, made 
 restive by its stationary position, gave vent to 
 its impatience by the neighing of horses and by 
 the clanking of swords. In the centre of the 
 panorama the stern and motionless artillery stood 
 in symmetrical line, a great mass of black. At 
 the left, half lost in the chaos of gilt braid, of 
 plumes, military coats, and cuirasses, the in- 
 fantry, with grounded arms, gave to the plain 
 of Longchamps, which for a day was like the 
 many-coloured palette of an artist, a note of 
 sombre colour and also the austere moral of 
 
272 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 humility. A hundred metres from the tribunes 
 lay a long expanse of yellow and trampled grass, 
 spotted with dry mud. 
 
 The open fields of Suresne looked like one 
 enormous ant-hill ; and the railroad station, with 
 its wild eddies of smoke and the roaring of 
 engines, let the people rush in as a sluice-gate 
 when opened leaves waters free in their course. 
 High up on a narrow and perpendicular cliff 
 Mont Valerien rose and lowered over Paris, 
 expanding its great brass lungs, that at the 
 right moment it might shout forth the glory of 
 the sovereign. 
 
 There was the stir of eager expectation in 
 the crowd. Every one held his watch in his 
 hand, trembling with feverish joy. Seats were 
 brought, arranged, and fastened to the ground. 
 People elbowed and pushed each other, eager to 
 see more ; men cried out to the women to shut 
 their parasols ; and there was a Babel of tongues 
 and voices, of laughter and oaths, an uproar 
 like the tuning of the instruments of an orches- 
 tra. Suddenly a cloud of dust rose to the sky, 
 the sound of a cannon-discharge filled the air 
 and echoed far over the the plains of Suresne, 
 and the people, silenced by the vibrating air 
 which had been rent by powder, waited with 
 bated breath. A great silence reigned over the 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 273 
 
 plain of Longchamps. Then, like a mighty 
 whirlwind, with the sovereigns of Russia and 
 Prussia at his side, the Emperor appeared on a 
 black horse whose gilt trappings glittered in 
 the sun. It was a wonderful moment. From 
 above the cannon resounded, cleaving the air, 
 thundering forth its hundred and one salutes, 
 while, as though electrified by the same com- 
 mand, the hundred thousand men upon the 
 plain presented arms and shouted loudly. The 
 skin of the drums grew tense under the beating 
 sticks, the clarions gave forth their metallic 
 notes, and the shadow of the flags, lowered in 
 salute, slowly stretched itself out along the 
 ground. Trotting rapidly on his black horse, 
 the Emperor passed before the grenadiers and 
 the light companies. He was preceded by 
 Spahies, who caracoled in Oriental disorder, and 
 who, enveloped in the flowing folds of their man- 
 tles, seemed to advance through a snow-storm. 
 Behind him came the staff, made brilliant and 
 imposing by the marshals, generals, and foreign 
 officers who escorted the Cent-Gardes. As it 
 passed before the tribunes, the Empress, who 
 was in the central loggia, rose, and with her 
 the whole court. The three sovereigns then 
 raised their caps and thus passed in front of 
 the troops. These three men traversing the 
 
274 N/IPOLEON III. 
 
 plain, their heads bowed low, as though in 
 homage, over the necks of their horses, never 
 knew a more glorious hour. The crowd, scep- 
 tical and scornful a moment before, now drew 
 itself up in wild enthusiasm ; heads were un- 
 covered, and great cheers rose from the people, 
 mingling with the hurrahs of the army. Alexan- 
 der and William grew dim and faded away in 
 the aureole which expanded round the passage 
 of the Emperor. They seemed but taken in 
 tow by the glory of this man, who, according to 
 the expression of his very enemies, had plunged 
 into the flood in the midst of a storm, and sought 
 to recover his name from the depths of those 
 waters whose waves bathe, and lap with their 
 tongues, the rock of Saint Helena. 
 
 Mont Valerien was silent, reposing for a mo- 
 ment before again shouting forth the hosannas 
 of war. The long line of troops trembled in 
 mute expectation. The Emperor, after having 
 visited all the ranks, had described a semicircle 
 and taken up his place in front of the official 
 loggia. A marshal left for a moment his escort 
 and approached him ; then, having received his 
 orders, in a voice ringing with enthusiasm and 
 with authority, made the field resound with the 
 command of the sovereign. A low, volcanic 
 rumbling ran over the seared plain of Long- 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 275 
 
 champs. The hundred thousand men, tired of 
 their stationary position, proud of the victories 
 written on their torn flags, began to move, happy 
 to live for a day the life of a Napoleon. 
 
 Like a ball of twine, the troops unwound 
 themselves and drew out like one long thread, 
 ready to pass before the Emperor. Six horse- 
 men of Saint-Cyr advanced ahead of them, and 
 were followed by the battalion from the military 
 school, whose automatic and admirably regular 
 step called forth much applause. Suddenly a 
 cloud of hot dust rose, and a loud noise was 
 heard. A chaos of red turbans, black faces, and 
 blue jackets rushed pell-mell on the field, run- 
 ning in savage or childish disorder, crying and 
 gesticulating, and filling the air with their rough 
 and uncivilised voices. The Turcomans, those 
 gamins of the East, those spoiled children of 
 the Empire, obtained that day a place of honour, 
 and took their position immediately behind that 
 of the Saint-Cyriens. How proud they were, 
 those emigrants from a limitless desert, to trav- 
 erse with their free and undisciplined steps 
 the great fields of Longchamps ! It had been 
 told them in the morning that they were to see 
 the Emperor, that they were to speak with him, 
 and now that the moment had come they rushed 
 on in feverish hurry. The Emperor, who was 
 
276 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 touched by the childlike joy which hastened 
 toward him the steps of those adopted children 
 of the French fatherland, seemed to caress 
 by his kindly regard their tumultuous onward 
 march ; and when, with an outburst of heartfelt 
 enthusiasm, they leaped toward him, waving 
 their guns and their black arms, he saluted 
 them with a long, low sweep of his hat, a salute 
 which seemed to carry with it an expression of 
 comradeship. Deeply moved, he then followed 
 for a moment with his eye the hellish crowd 
 which yelled his name : " L'Emperour ! " . . . 
 it cried, " l'Emperour ! " . . . 
 
 Beyond the enclosure reserved for the privi- 
 leged public there arose, where were assembled 
 the common people, great shouts and cheers. 
 They pushed and elbowed each other with ter- 
 rible force, and the guards were obliged to cross 
 their bayonets in front of the on-pressing mass 
 of plebeians. All at once the crowd spied its 
 favourite colours, and with a movement of sym- 
 pathetic curiosity people stretched their necks 
 and rushed forward toward those who were seen 
 advancing on the run. " The soldiers ! " they 
 cried, " the soldiers ! " Voices were raised in 
 loud exclamation and in song. The crowd 
 joined in the airs played by clarion and drum. 
 " Did you see the cap ? " was the oft -repeated 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 277 
 
 question, " the pretty cap ? " Every one wanted 
 to see and to salute the little red breeches 
 which the labourer's child had made famous 
 through Paris. The line had drawn up abreast, 
 and now stretched from one side to the other of 
 the field, beating with its mighty tread the hard 
 ground. In unbroken silence it passed, receiv- 
 ing the bravos which greeted it, with the same 
 stoicism with which it had received the balls of 
 the enemy, while over the whole plain the sound 
 of human voices and the neighing and stamping 
 of horses was felt, and served to excite more 
 and more the crowd, which was already half 
 crazy. 
 
 It was a beautiful sight. The sombre colours 
 had retreated to the background, and now the 
 entire Guard, grenadiers, and light companies, 
 advanced, followed by the cavalry, which flashed 
 its steel across the fields, making them glow like 
 beds of live coals. 
 
 The full glory of the Empire laid itself down, 
 alive and trembling, on the yellow verdure of 
 Longchamps, like a beautiful woman stretched 
 out upon her couch. The Empire showed to 
 the world its flashing breast-plate, and drew it- 
 self up proudly in the dazzling light which 
 enveloped it, trembling in every nerve through 
 its imperious need of the joys which it had 
 
278 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 made its own. Women went to the reviews at 
 Longchamps with spirits weary and rebellious 
 at the poverty of existence, and returned full 
 of undefined desire, their eyes kindled by the 
 brightness of those golden spangles which 
 shone on the officers' coats, their hearts aglow 
 with newly born passions, while they breathed 
 through dilated nostrils the unknown delights 
 of life, and passed gaily through the streets. 
 Their thought was little for the victories whose 
 story the flags told. They wore their gloves 
 out in clapping, but their bravos were addressed 
 far more to the beautiful uniforms than to the 
 renown of the great army. The supernatural 
 spirit of the Empire stood there in marvellous 
 draperies. A legend took root and began to 
 grow round the Guard, which waited in splen- 
 dour and magnificence ; and it seemed as though 
 even the sun cast on this Guard its brightest 
 rays. It seemed as though the star of the 
 Bonapartes, which had set on the day which 
 followed Austerlitz, had risen now on another 
 Napoleon, and would follow the voice of his 
 wishes as faithfully as it had done that of his 
 great ancestor. Confronted by the huge bear- 
 skin caps of the grenadiers, sweet memories 
 were revived in the minds of the old, and hopes 
 kindled in the hearts of the young. Over the 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 279 
 
 field of Longchamps, where little by little the 
 vision faded away, eyes travelled far, far into 
 the distance, till, rising above the Bois de Bou- 
 logne, they sought the dome of the Invalides, 
 under which the crowd remembered that " the 
 other " slept his eternal sleep. The glory and 
 the mighty thunder of those days resounded 
 like echoes of war in the ears of those who 
 were assembled there. The legend expanded, 
 it crossed the field at a giant's stride, and men, 
 forgetting their political dissensions and bit- 
 terness, accompanied its echoing step by the 
 rhythm of their enthusiastic cheers. 
 
 A noise of rattling iron and lead suddenly 
 rose over the plain, accompanied by the sound 
 of rumbling wheels crunching the ground. 
 From the direction of Saint-Cloud a black mass 
 became visible. It was the artillery, which in 
 its turn had begun to unwind. The cannons, 
 with their yawning mouths, advanced through a 
 flood of sunshine, and the low crackling sound 
 of grape-shot was heard. Some of the waggons 
 were drawn by pure white, others by dark 
 horses, and this harmony of colours pleased the 
 spectators. It was truly a monstrous exhibi- 
 tion of murderous machines ! The brazen 
 pieces cast reddish reflections and left behind 
 them the lurid light of a stormy sky. The 
 
280 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 long ramrods hung over the flanks of the car- 
 riages, and were knocked up and down on the 
 bruised and battered wood. Behind these came 
 the powder and bullet-carts, and following them 
 strange carriages with top-awnings, which serve 
 as kitchens in time of campaign. This long 
 line passed on rapidly and disappeared on a full 
 trot, its noise dying away like that of a sudden 
 clap of thunder. 
 
 For a moment the troops paused in their 
 onward march. The silence which had pre- 
 ceded the arrival of the Emperor was again felt 
 over the field of review. It was thought that 
 the exercises were finished, and the crowd pre- 
 pared to scatter, when it was checked by an 
 imperious command. From far in the distance 
 ten thousand cuirassiers rushed forward in a 
 furious charge upon the tribunes, then, facing 
 about, they described a semicircle and passed 
 like a hurricane before the imperial staff, mak- 
 ing savage leaps and bounds like Titans. This 
 was the final moment, the climax as it were, 
 of the whole. A nervous tremour passed 
 through the crowd ; skin and muscle were 
 felt to tighten, and with cries like that of wild 
 animals, people rushed on the barriers, which 
 gave way before them. It seemed as though 
 the tribunes must sink under the cheers and 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 28 1 
 
 hurrahs. A world was there, which watched 
 with pride and satisfaction this frightful charge. 
 The cuirassiers bore with their flags the true 
 spirit of war, and this spirit passed from them 
 to the people. If the grenadiers had awakened 
 memories, these men evoked legends. The 
 dire story of Waterloo rushed onward with 
 them, and its awful name was repeated over 
 and over as though it recalled hymns of victory. 
 The imperial epic was revived by these regi- 
 ments of steel. The glories of the past pressed 
 forward, at once bloody and radiant as though 
 they had issued from the colossal womb of 
 some menacing chimaera, and with their metallic 
 cries cut the air, which was thick with smoke 
 and warm with battle. 
 
 When the last cuirassier had disappeared, 
 the staff reassembled in its turn, and the three 
 sovereigns, taking the field, advanced slowly 
 till they were within ten metres of the official 
 loggia. They then paid their homage to the 
 Empress in a salute, and, followed by the es- 
 cort of princes and marshals, wheeled about, 
 while Mont Valerien once more took up, in its 
 basso profundo, and brought to its close, the 
 hymn of war. 
 
 This, then, was the review of Longchamps, 
 which will remain famous in the annals of 
 
282 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 France. Though it commenced under a bril- 
 liant sun, it nevertheless closed in darkness. 
 After Napoleon III., the King of Prussia, and 
 Emperor Alexander of Russia, had dismounted, 
 and were returning in a carriage across the 
 Bois de Boulogne, a shot resounded which had 
 been directed against the Emperor of Russia, 
 who was seated by the side of Napoleon III., 
 and a ball struck the head of the horse 
 which M. Raimbaud, one of the equerries of 
 the Tuileries, was riding. The poor animal 
 fell ; while the two sovereigns, covered with 
 blood and very pale, insisted that they had 
 received no injury. 
 
 This event is well known, and I shall not 
 describe its dramatic circumstances. It had as 
 an almost immediate result, however, an inter- 
 view between Napoleon III. and the Emperor 
 Alexander. It is this interview, an account 
 of which was given by Napoleon III. to Count 
 
 W , but which has as yet never been made 
 
 public, that I am about to reproduce here. 
 
 A few days after the review of the sixth of 
 June, Napoleon III. and Alexander II. shut 
 themselves in a little study in the Tuileries, 
 and there conversed together alone. After 
 having discussed the attempt on the life of 
 Alexander, which had taken place in the Bois 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 283 
 
 de Boulogne and which was occupying the 
 mind of the public, they began to speak of 
 liberty, that liberty which at this time was 
 struggling for supremacy in certain parts of 
 Europe. Alexander II., who was by nature 
 liberal, approved of the movement, of which 
 he was, indeed, one of the promoters. He, 
 however, approved of it with a practical real 
 isation of the dangers which it would neces- 
 sarily create round him, ready, nevertheless, 
 through his generous spirit, to face these dan- 
 gers. Napoleon III., also a socialist at heart, 
 rejoiced in that current of public opinion which 
 was destined to change the present policy of 
 his government ; but in his rejoicing he denied 
 the presence of peril, his heart filled with the 
 fervour and the mysticism of a believer. A 
 dialogue therefore ensued between the two 
 men, which Alexander opened. 
 
 " We live," said he, " in an age when it is 
 said that we must love freedom ; and I do, as do 
 those who believe that freedom will regenerate 
 the world, that is, I love it. What benefit have 
 I to reap, however, by being liberal ? It will 
 result for me in the constant fear of assassina- 
 tion on the street corner. I should like to 
 forget the attempt made against my life only a 
 few days ago in France, but how can I ? Does 
 
284 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 not our very conversation recall it fatally to my 
 mind ? It is in vain that one seeks to attenuate 
 the horror of assassination under the false pre- 
 text of an exalted patriotism. Berezowski was 
 led by no race prejudice when he took his aim 
 at me ; he but yielded to that mighty spirit of 
 liberality which is rising against us who are 
 emperors and kings, and, as it is believed, open 
 and unflinching enemies of all progress. What, 
 however, does regret avail ? The people claim 
 their independence, their freedom, and I am 
 among those who are ready to give them what 
 they ask. I will create a liberal Russia, and I 
 shall hope to make it as strong under the regime 
 of liberty as have my predecessors under that 
 of autocracy. My purpose, however, ceases 
 here ; I see too clearly the dire condition of 
 affairs to raise any air-castles for my own 
 future. I hope to gain nothing either for my- 
 self or for my people by liberty ; and were I 
 called upon to express my whole feeling in this 
 matter, I should say that I expect but evil to 
 result therefrom. The new spirit, Sire, will 
 kill the old. Liberty will lay on us the hand 
 of a master, and who knows but that I shall be 
 the first among the sovereigns of Europe to fall 
 under the stroke of the fanatic ? The ball which 
 to-day swerved from the path toward which it 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 285 
 
 was directed will to-morrow hit its mark ; this 
 ball is speeding along my way, and I feel it in 
 the air." 
 
 Napoleon III. was somewhat surprised by 
 these words. 
 
 " Our political education," he replied, " has 
 not been the same. Yours, having diverged 
 from its source through a love of humanity, is 
 yet influenced by early anti-liberal tendencies. 
 While hastening toward it, you still fear liberty. 
 Comfort yourself, nevertheless. The people are 
 good, and by no means ungrateful. Though 
 the populace hides in its ranks a few such mon- 
 sters as he who lately attacked your life and 
 outraged the hospitality which I have extended 
 to you, it is not just to feel that, on this account, 
 it must be entirely made up of monsters. Alms 
 appease the bitterness of the poor, and liberty 
 will cast oil on the resentment and the enmity 
 of the people; it will be to them a consolation 
 in the midst of their sufferings. A day will 
 come when I shall grant freedom to France ; 
 and on that day I, who, as well as you, Sire, 
 was exposed to the assassin's ball, shall no 
 longer fear for the safety of my life. The 
 people will bless me, and I shall lead them with 
 a strong hand toward new destinies." 
 
 " Your Majesty may be right," replied Alex- 
 
286 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 ander II., " but despite myself I can but doubt 
 and fear. I have, moreover, no faith in the 
 agglomeration of races and in the unity of 
 nations." 
 
 "Are you alluding," asked Napoleon III., 
 " to the theory of national unity ? " 
 
 " Does not this very theory, Sire, to which I 
 was indeed referring, and which is the broad 
 and illimitable consequence of the principle of 
 liberal government, seem to you like the su- 
 preme consecration of our effacement, as the 
 acme of that danger which is destined to fall 
 on our thrones and to crush them ? " 
 
 " Italy and Germany have established their 
 unity, and I see no evidence that their sover- 
 eigns suffer from the political and social system 
 which they have adopted. Were nations gath- 
 ered together in an universal confederation 
 tending to destroy in them all spirit of patriot- 
 ism and all race feeling, they would then, of 
 course, have little interest in creating emperors 
 and kings. Such a stage of progress is, how- 
 ever, far in the future. Nations are like chil- 
 dren who, when they emerge from swaddling 
 clothes have need of leading strings, and of 
 strong arms when they try to take their first 
 steps. As the years pass they will increase in 
 strength, and learn to move firmly on their feet. 
 
THE APOTHEOSIS. 287 
 
 They will aavance without ceasing toward a 
 better condition, toward an era of certain prog- 
 ress. An hour will then come when they 
 shall have no further need of being guided in 
 life, through which they will pass free and 
 strong into the future. In that hour, Sire, our 
 end will come. We shall have to appear in the 
 public places and to mingle with the masses ; 
 we shall be required to blend our thoughts and 
 personalities with those of the community ; we 
 shall be required" — here a mischievous smile 
 appeared on his face — " to descend from 
 our thrones and to take up our seats in the 
 chimney-corner. ' ' 
 
 Emperor Alexander shook his head sadly. 
 
 " Your heart is kind, Sire," he said gently, 
 with an expression of affectionate pity, " your 
 heart is kind ; may it be rewarded by an oppor- 
 tunity for so much resignation." 
 
 His tone then suddenly changed. 
 
 "Why," he continued, "why can we not at 
 least march together toward this future which 
 you evoke with a spirit of assurance and of 
 serenity, and whose advent I dread because I 
 do not believe in the virtue of national unity ; 
 because I see in the results of this theory 
 dangers which God alone can reveal to us in 
 their entirety ? Why, ah, why have not politics 
 
288 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 made us allies ? We should have loved each 
 other." 
 
 Sincere emotion took possession of Napoleon 
 III. A little pale, he raised his head and looked 
 into the face of Alexander. 
 
 " As it is, Sire," he said with a smile, " as it is, 
 do we not love each other ? " 
 
 Emperor Alexander did not reply ; but he rose 
 and went toward Napoleon III., and taking his 
 two hands in his, he pressed them warmly. 
 
 This was a solemn moment, born in the first 
 hour of a crisis which was destined to bear the 
 dynasty of the Bonapartes far from the throne. 
 Napoleon III., however, waited unmoved, and 
 let it pass him by. Having returned the pres- 
 sure of the Emperor's hand, he directed the 
 conversation into channels which lay wide apart 
 from those problems which were dearest to him. 
 
THE DRAMA. 289 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE DRAMA. 
 
 The year 1867 having closed in joy and 
 brightness, the politics of the Second Empire 
 suffered a change, and its private and public life 
 were transformed. The drama which was to 
 cast darkness over its last hours now opened. 
 
 In the years which were past, events had 
 rushed rapidly upon each other, as waves on a 
 day of storm hurry toward the shore, and hurl 
 themselves upon each other, eager to spread out 
 along the land, or else to tear themselves on the 
 rocks. In those years events had arisen and 
 succeeded each other with a logical continuity ; 
 forgotten facts, of which I spoke in the preced- 
 ing chapter, emerged from the shadow, and re- 
 appeared with a menacing expression in the face 
 of joys and feverish excitements which have not 
 yet ceased to be like revengeful spectres. 
 
 Since the year 1867, and even during the 
 festivities of that year, political revolutions had 
 been accomplished, to which little attention was 
 given. Stirring debates had taken place in the 
 
290 NAPOLEON III 
 
 Legislative Corps, as well as in the Senate, 
 concerning certain works which were judged 
 licentious by the authoritative moralists of the 
 Second Empire. The prosecution of the authors 
 was demanded and penalties attached ; and not 
 satisfied by this appeal to extreme severity 
 which was opposed to the spirit of the Emperor, 
 the authors were traced and found. 
 
 A revolution had taken place around Napo- 
 leon III., and a formidable opposition had arisen 
 against him in the very Tuileries, whose pur- 
 pose was to check the fulfilment of his plans 
 for liberal reforms. The Empress had reso- 
 lutely taken direction of this movement, and 
 had, by aid of intrigue, won her cause on sev- 
 eral occasions. By such means, and through 
 the intervention of M. Rouher, she succeeded 
 in expelling from the presidency of the Legisla- 
 tive Corps, Count Walewski, whose chair was 
 offered" to M. Schneider. 
 
 It was also found necessary in this year, on 
 account of the attitude assumed by Prussia, to 
 abandon the annexation of Luxemburg, which 
 had been declared, consented to, and amicably 
 arranged for with the Netherlands. 
 
 A fearful thunderbolt had made itself felt 
 in the midst of the gaiety and the folly which 
 succeeded the Exposition. The tragic death of 
 
THE DRAMA. 29 1 
 
 Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico, had filled with 
 momentary horror the royal guests of the Tui- 
 leries. The blood of the unhappy man of Quere- 
 taro had seemed to spurt across the seas, and to 
 stain the gay faces of those men and women 
 who lived in thoughtless enjoyment of the 
 imperial festivities. 
 
 Finally, the volley fired at Mentana, a volley 
 arranged in order to meet the exigencies, the 
 superstition, and the resentment of the Empress, 
 had provoked a rupture between France and 
 Italy, had separated forever Napoleon III. and 
 Victor Emmanuel, and prepared the claims 
 and the neutrality of the Re galantuomo, which 
 the future was to. make manifest. 
 
 Day followed day, and events succeeded each 
 other rapidly. 
 
 The year 1868 lighted the Lanterne of 
 Rochefort, and cast from her throne Queen 
 Isabella of Spain ; dissensions, too, among the 
 masses, both in Paris and in the provinces, 
 caused some disquietude. New men with un- 
 heard-of names rose daily and spoke to the 
 people, inspiring them with bitter hatred of the 
 Empire. The old, who in the past had kindled 
 in the people a spirit antagonistic to tyranny, 
 fell now, exhausted by battle and by the weight 
 of years ; but the young rose up in their 
 
292 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 places, carried on their discourses, and assumed 
 with even greater boldness their attitude, while 
 the crowd listened and applauded. 
 
 In 1869 a priest, Pere Hyacinthe, fell from 
 the pulpit which he had occupied with renown, 
 and to which he had drawn the attention of the 
 court and of the people at large, and his fall 
 had an ominous sound. His renunciation of 
 those things which he had hitherto venerated, 
 stirred all souls and filled many hearts with 
 terror. 
 
 The Emperor having succeeded, despite the 
 difficulties occasioned by his campaign, and 
 despite the party which had sprung up as a 
 result of this campaign, in putting to a practical 
 test his ideas of liberalism, political reunions ' 
 took place every evening, where violent and 
 abusive language was heard, whose echoes 
 reached the Tuileries with messages of lugu- 
 brious warning. Words, too, were soon ex- 
 changed for deeds ; and the streets were invaded 
 by uproarious bands from the outskirts of 
 Paris, as well as by the silent patrol of the 
 soldiers. 
 
 There were riots. The boulevards were 
 thronged with a half-crazy people, and the 
 troops made furious charges, killing without 
 mercy. 
 
THE DRAMA. 293 
 
 The people made their onslaught against the 
 Empire with the revived fury of tragic and 
 revolutionary days experienced in the past. 
 The soldiers, cradled in the imperial legend, 
 humoured and flattered by power, both by in- 
 stinct and profession enemies of peace and 
 rejoicing in warfare, prepared, with all the en- 
 thusiasm of praetorians, for massacre. 
 
 Regiments quitted their garrisons and came 
 to Paris as they would have marched on a 
 foreign city ; and they were seen to pass, the 
 war-cry on their lips and a menacing accent 
 in their steps, behind the captains who com- 
 manded them. 
 
 The Guard in a state of agitation awaited in 
 its quarters at Versailles, at Saint-Cloud, at 
 Saint-Maur, and at Saint-Germain, the com- 
 mand which would interrupt its peace, and 
 anger and drunkenness entered its ranks. 
 
 This was a precursory period. The Legis- 
 lative Corps and the Senate, seized by the 
 moral agony which had taken possession of the 
 whole nation, were unfortunate in their delib- 
 erations, and lingered over futile and harmful 
 discussions, exerting their strength in volleys 
 of words which increased the nervous exhaus- 
 tion of every one, and accentuated in disturbed 
 and hesitating minds an innate lack of equi- 
 librium. 
 
294 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Despite this overthrow, however, of all which 
 had existed under the Second Empire, of all 
 which had constituted its glory, there yet lin- 
 gered round it a sort of radiance. The in- 
 auguration of the Suez Canal brought a moment 
 of repose to the follies and furies of the Second 
 Empire ; and the Emperor, who had sent his 
 consort to represent him on Eastern soil, had 
 reason to believe that the truce afforded him 
 by destiny would have a glorious morrow. 
 
 From such a dream he awoke in sorrow ; but, 
 always a fatalist, he watched the steady devel- 
 opment of events with surprise yet without 
 fear. The liberty which, after proclaiming the 
 edict of absolute power, he had sought to es- 
 tablish, disappointed his hopes. The ideal, 
 however, had grown to be a part of him, and he 
 believed in its excellence. He did not argue 
 with himself that a return to those prerogatives 
 which he had at one time enjoyed might save 
 his throne from threatening danger. He re- 
 sorted to no violent act of authority in order 
 to recover the prestige and power which he had 
 for a long time enjoyed. Resigned or, more 
 properly, confident of the justice of that mis- 
 sion which he had undertaken, and of the im- 
 mutability of destiny, — that destiny which, 
 according to his faith, no circumstance could 
 
THE DRAMA. 295 
 
 serve to modify, — he faced with philosophical 
 calm the new and strange events which trans- 
 pired round him, and watched them with im- 
 passive mind. * 
 
 The festivities and magnificences which 
 accompanied the opening of the Suez Canal 
 brought a smile of contentment to his pale lips. 
 He raised his voice with a cry of joy, he 
 stretched out his hands toward the little spot 
 of blue which had appeared in the heavily 
 clouded sky, a gleam of brightness kindled by 
 beams from his own reign. He forgot the 
 injuries dealt his throne by the repeated at- 
 tacks of his enemies. He forgot the bitterness 
 which life had brought, life which is the same 
 for king and plebeian, which tires of happiness, 
 and ordains that tears shall succeed joy. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon III. was good and 
 believed in goodness. Strong in the greatness 
 of his name, strong in the consciousness of 
 deeds of kindness freely performed by him, 
 he had, during his reign, the conviction that he 
 was loved by the people, nor was he in error 
 here. When men whom he did not know rose 
 before him with hatred on their faces, he was 
 filled with astonishment, but did not for a 
 moment dream that their anathemas could find 
 a ready echo among the people. He looked 
 
296 N4POLEON III. 
 
 on these men, and on the events which they 
 created, with a feeling of sadness, with the 
 sorrow of a person who hates evil and who yet 
 feel's its hand laid upon himself. It would cer- 
 tainly have been possible for him to respond 
 to the attacks and insults of which he was the 
 victim, by an implacable exercise of his author- 
 ity, by the abandonment of the humanitarian 
 dream which had inspired his liberalism. He, 
 however, never conceived of such vengeance. 
 He felt that he owed the people and the gov- 
 ernment the consolation and the mitigation 
 which he had promised them. He felt now 
 as he had done years ago when, after a long 
 exile, he set his feet on French soil, that he 
 was Napoleon, that he was a man predestined 
 by a legend, and that no force could cast him 
 without the pale of history. 
 
 The inauguration of the Suez Canal, whose 
 glory belonged to him, and the success of the 
 plebiscite in 1870, confirmed this assurance. 
 Despite the physical infirmities of age, despite 
 his moral suffering, he held himself erect, and 
 was filled with a fervour and an enthusiasm 
 which urged him toward the future. Neither 
 the voices of praise, however, which came to 
 him from the East, nor the last cheers of the 
 nation which saluted his name, could give back 
 
THE DRAMA. 297 
 
 to him the bodily and mental force of past 
 years. The strength which, had enabled him to 
 take possession of the throne was no longer at 
 his command ; he tottered as he advanced 
 toward the future for which he longed, and, 
 like a wounded duelist who lets the sword fall 
 from his stiff fingers, he relinquished his own 
 personality, and watched events stoically, while 
 men in whose bosoms were hidden the invisible 
 and the unknown, passed on. He was crushed 
 by them, as some poor victim fallen in the 
 streets of Paris would be crushed by the heavy, 
 rumbling carts. 
 
 The Second Empire perished. All the hours 
 of its glory were dead, and over their remains 
 Destiny chanted its De Profundis, while the 
 drama which was to fill with terror its last 
 days slowly developed. 
 
 It might have been expected that in the pres- 
 ence of events which fell on the world with all 
 the ruinous rapidity of avalanches, the one on 
 the other, the habitues of the Tuileries would 
 lay aside their enticing follies. It might have 
 been expected that before those threats which 
 rose clear on the horizon, the court would grow 
 sober, and seek to evade the danger which was 
 marching implacably toward it. It was not, 
 however, so. Politicians who frequented the 
 
298 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Tuileries made no allusion at this time to the 
 future of the imperial dynasty, while the world- 
 lings and habituh of the palace remained alike 
 unconscious of the people's claims and of the 
 hostility shown by foreign nations. 
 
 In their ignorance of the public agitation, 
 they continued to enjoy the easy existence 
 which they had made for themselves ; they 
 abandoned none of their diversions, but, on the 
 contrary, plunged deeper into the flood of 
 pleasure. 
 
 The feeble opposition of the " Five " was 
 far in the background. To this little group 
 of adversaries had succeeded a legion of men 
 who were resolved to overthrow the Empire. 
 There were daily dissensions in the Legislative 
 Corps, and discussions which slowly but surely 
 took from the government of the Tuileries what 
 authority and prestige still remained to it. 
 
 The court mocked the men who assumed a 
 violent attitude before the government. It 
 denied the power of the rebels who advanced 
 toward it with hatred in their hearts. With 
 a complete absence of moral courage, it turned 
 disdainfully from those who tried to warn it 
 of the danger, and in a profound egoism it 
 deplored the apprehensions of the Emperor, 
 and sought to destroy them by multiplying the 
 
THE DRAMA. 299 
 
 frivolities and enjoyments which existed round 
 him. The court was at this time, as I have 
 already said, an assembly of fools of both sexes 
 which nothing served to quiet. 
 
 In the face of the disturbing prophecies 
 which passed lugubriously through the days 
 of the Second Empire, it experienced no emo- 
 tion, no sadness, no fear. It believed, perhaps, 
 lacking as it was in all just appreciation of 
 the nature of affairs, that this was but a 
 political disturbance of weak vitality which one 
 word from the Emperor would destroy. At no 
 time did it dream of the dissatisfaction with 
 which its own philosophy of life filled the 
 nation. It even found in the opposition raised 
 against the Tuileries a source of some amuse- 
 ment, and a new diversion was added to the 
 many which were enjoyed by the Empress. 
 When the elections of 1869 appointed to the 
 Legislative Corps unknown men who were to 
 overthrow the Empire, the court made sport 
 of these men. Caricatures were drawn of 
 them in the Tuileries, and their eloquence 
 parodied, their attitudes aped with a spirit of 
 mockery, and the Lanterne of Rochefort be- 
 came a favourite journal among the habitues of 
 the palace. The Empress did not resist the 
 popular follies, but, while feigning indignation, 
 
300 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 became the assiduous reader of this paper. 
 This fact may seem improbable, but it can be 
 affirmed by those who knew the Empress in 
 her private life. 
 
 The years 1867, 1868, and 1869 are char- 
 acterised by the death agony of a society which 
 perished from the excesses of life. 
 
 I do not wish to appear in the light of a 
 morbid writer who is opposed to all enjoyment. 
 It is, nevertheless, evident that the conduct of 
 the men and women of the Tuileries, in inspir- 
 ing the masses with discontent, and in wounding 
 the half-hypocritical puritanism which foreign 
 nations had at that time assumed, — and which, 
 indeed, they still assume in our presence, — 
 had alienated from it the sympathies which in 
 the hour of political crises and revolt would 
 have been helpful to it. The frivolous life, 
 too, of the men and women of the Tuileries 
 must have had a fatal influence on these men 
 and women themselves. Weary and enervated 
 by so many days of uninterrupted gaiety, they 
 remained without physical force or power of 
 moral resistance when misfortune overtook 
 them. There was no alternative but resigna- 
 tion ; they were like men who, rising from a 
 feast, find themselves in a state of intoxication, 
 and can but lean against some wall, powerless 
 
THE DRAMA. 30 1 
 
 to regain their bearings, and who watch with 
 vapid mind and soul the passing mockers and 
 those who toss encouraging words to them as 
 they stand there helpless. 
 
 When the men and the women who had filled 
 with their laughter, their gallantry, and their 
 beauty the reign of Napoleon III., fell into the 
 gutter, other men arose, who, young and healthy 
 in body and mind, made their claims heard, and 
 urged the duty of humanity. The nation lis- 
 tened to them, the nation followed their lead 
 with applause on its lips, and enthusiasm in its 
 heart, and anger, as well, that it should so long 
 have maintained an allegiance to this decaying 
 society ; it grew strong in the hope of seeing 
 arise on its misery and bondage a new day bright 
 with promise. 
 
 When the year 1870 initiated the old govern- 
 ment into a new policy, — as young blood is 
 sometimes transfused into the veins of an old 
 person, — there was a great stir in the faubourgs, 
 and the symptoms of a fever, sure to cause de- 
 lirium, became evident in the crowd. Some 
 believed that the liberal Empire would conduct 
 France peacefully toward a period of happiness ; 
 but those with the most foresight and the boldest 
 spirits only smiled and shrugged their shoulders 
 when an era of political prosperity was an- 
 
302 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 nounced. Their thought travelled far beyond 
 the present which the world forced itself to 
 receive with the appearance of joy, and in the 
 mysterious darkness of the future it discerned 
 objects which filled it with terror. 
 
 These objects — revolution or war — took up 
 their place at the end of a long line of follies 
 and chimeras ; they pursued the Second Em- 
 pire, and soared high among its clouds, as yet 
 invisible, flying like the flocks of crows which 
 follow an army. When destiny struck the hour 
 of supreme struggle, all things were in readiness 
 to serve this destiny. They fell upon the Sec- 
 ond Empire, which, weak and bloodless, had not 
 the power to throw them off. A great noise 
 filled the air and shook the ground like the ex- 
 piring groans of some great monster ; and those 
 who dared henceforth glance back at the Tui- 
 leries saw but a desolate solitude, in the sepul- 
 chral silence of which a woman swathed in 
 black, the Empress Eugdnie, wandered in ter- 
 ror. Those who dared henceforth look out on 
 the frontiers of France saw there but one lonely 
 shadow, the Emperor Napoleon III., bending 
 under his load of sorrow, a shadow so small and 
 so pitiable that it appeared smaller and more 
 pitiable than the shadows of those beggars who 
 weep along the wayside. 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 30 3 
 
 X. 
 
 THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 
 
 Prince Bismarck has given the world some 
 information concerning the war of 1870, and 
 diverse theories have been formulated concern- 
 ing the originators of this war, and opinions 
 formed as to who were probably responsible for 
 it. It would take long to cite these theories, to 
 analyse, approve, or condemn them ; but I shall, 
 nevertheless, consider one which has seemed to 
 be expressed with more exactitude and with 
 more violence than have the others. 
 
 Without pausing to study details or to con- 
 sider those attendant circumstances, which, in 
 truth, are of great importance, there are many 
 who unhesitatingly affirm that the disastrous 
 results of the war of 1870 are due to the men 
 at that time belonging to the liberal party, and 
 are almost ready to declare that this war should 
 in its very genesis be imputed to them. 
 
 No statement could be more false than this ; 
 and if the reader will allow me to volunteer 
 information upon the matter, I shall find no 
 
304 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 difficulty in setting forth the true causes of the 
 war of 1870. 
 
 There is a question of some importance to be 
 answered at the outset. Did Prussia seek in 
 1870 to involve France in war, and was the 
 candidacy of Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern to 
 the throne of Spain arranged for the purpose of 
 discontenting us and of provoking a rupture ? 
 
 We answer firmly, No. In the question of 
 Hohenzollern, no more than previously in that 
 of Luxemburg, did Prussia endeavour, system- 
 atically and with fixed purpose, to excite our 
 warlike spirit and our hostility. We continu- 
 ally deceived ourselves under the Second Em- 
 pire, and especially during the last years of the 
 imperial reign, concerning the sentiments enter- 
 tained by Europe toward us. 
 
 Misled by the external policy adopted by 
 Napoleon III., public opinion stood in constant 
 distrust of Prussia. It is, however, to be noted 
 that this country, interested by the humanita- 
 rian dream of the Emperor and by his theory 
 of national unity, was not content with the 
 rather negative friendliness of him who reigned 
 in the Tuileries, but, less egotistical, less hypo- 
 critical, or more practical, than certain other 
 neighbouring States, proposed, and even urged, 
 an alliance. The bearing of M. de Goltz, Prus- 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 305 
 
 sia's ambassador to France, is marked by such 
 sentiments ; the visit of Prince Bismarck con- 
 firms them ; and it is only by the repeated 
 refusal of Napoleon III. to involve his name 
 in a policy of conquest, that the chancelleries 
 and the government of Prussia and the cabinet 
 at Berlin abandoned its project, and consoled 
 itself with new hopes. Prussia, though cer- 
 tainly wounded by the almost scornful attitude 
 of the cabinet at Paris, did not, properly speak- 
 ing, desire present war with France, when in 
 1870 an incident arose which rapidly assumed 
 the importance of a casus belli. It had in 
 reality no idea that it was so close upon a con- 
 flict with us, and was as much surprised by the 
 fact as were we. 
 
 Prussia, indeed, despite its preparations for a 
 campaign against us, and despite its perception 
 of the difficulties in the way of an inter- 
 national policy which was visionary and ven- 
 turesome, was more honest in its relations with 
 France than were Austria and Italy, upon 
 whom not only the nation at large, but also the 
 court of the Tuileries, were accustomed to rely. 
 M. de Goltz in saying as he did : " Europe is 
 old, too old ; it is slowly dying for want of 
 blood to nourish it. Its book is closed, and 
 those who shall open a new one are born. Tell 
 
306 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 the Emperor this ; he will perhaps realise that 
 there is yet time that we should understand 
 each other, and that the destiny of nations may 
 be accomplished without endangering the peace 
 of the world " — M. de Goltz, I say, in speaking 
 thus, had far more thought of reconciling the 
 interests of his country and of ours, than had 
 Austria and Italy, who provoked so much en- 
 thusiasm in the persons of their representatives, 
 MM. de Metternich and Nigra, those two sly 
 and cruel enemies of France, whose one inspi- 
 ration was the thought of our abasement, though 
 this wish was prompted in each by a different 
 motive. 
 
 When in 1869 and 1870 the Liberals assumed 
 a position of importance, and when the Em- 
 peror declared openly his wish to reform his 
 internal policy and to confide its direction to 
 M. Emile Ollivier, a clique rose in the court 
 and in the Chambers composed of men devoted 
 to the Empire, but opposed to the new order of 
 things, and called " the party of the Empress," 
 because its leaders received their inspiration 
 directly from her. 
 
 At the head of these men, among whom 
 were deputies, senators, chamberlains, and sim- 
 ple habituis of the palace, stood MM. Rouher 
 
THE DECLARATION OF IVAR. 307 
 
 and Chevreau. All their efforts were designed 
 to check the Emperor in the pursuance of his 
 liberalism. 
 
 It has been said that the plebiscite of 1870 
 was undertaken for the purpose, for a long time 
 nursed, of bringing on a war which as a result 
 should give back to the Emperor the authority 
 which at the outset of his reign he had pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 It has also been said that the ministry of Jan- 
 uary Second invented the plebiscite in order to 
 adorn itself, under the shadow of the imperial 
 name, with a prestige that would enable it to 
 launch out in warlike enterprises by which 
 its tottering power should be made firm, and 
 its policy, as yet little understood by the 
 masses, be strengthened. These assertions are 
 not conformable to truth. 
 
 After the plebiscite neither the political world 
 nor the court, which was submissive to the 
 tyranny of the Empress, conceived the project 
 of war with any nation. The incident which 
 determined the campaign of 1870 was born 
 of spontaneous circumstances of which it was 
 a necessary consequence. After the plebiscite, 
 however, events transpired at court and in the 
 circle surrounding the Empress, which are 
 worthy to be related. 
 
308 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 A plot was formed for the purpose of de- 
 stroying, in the mind of Napoleon III., those 
 ideas by which he was at present led, and the 
 thought was for a moment entertained of direct- 
 ing against the men of January Second a sort 
 of coup d'etat which would make the con- 
 tinuance of their work impossible. The pleb- 
 iscite, which came to consecrate once more 
 the name of Napoleon, might have served as 
 an aid to this intrigue, and with the help of 
 some resolute persons have smothered all pro- 
 tests. In a word, a project was formed by the 
 party of the Empress, and in direct opposition 
 to the will of the Emperor, to take possession 
 of the ministers of January Second, and to im- 
 prison them during the time necessary for the 
 re-establishment of absolute power. 
 
 When this plan for a policy contrary to his 
 desires was cautiously suggested to Napoleon 
 III., he, already feeble in body and mind, re- 
 volted ; and in the earnestness of his liberalism, 
 in the sincerity of his purpose, he foiled the 
 designs of his too zealous friends. 
 
 The party of the Empress, however, though 
 baffled in this affair, was not at all discouraged, 
 and in its extreme hatred of the liberal coun- 
 sellors of Napoleon III. sought but an official pre- 
 text by which to oblige them to retire from the 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 309 
 
 government, and to revive in the Tuileries the 
 bright hours of the authoritative Empire. 
 
 At the time of the Hohenzollern incident 
 this party raised a cry of joy, and prepared to 
 avail itself of the opportunity which thus of- 
 fered, happy to attain at last the object which 
 they had with so much eagerness pursued. 
 
 The Empress, and with her the whole court, 
 which in its blind adoration approved of her 
 attitude in the affair and was obedient to her 
 least word, rejoiced in the incident, clinging to 
 it like a drowning man to a buoy, and had 
 henceforth no thought but to avail itself of the 
 opportunity which had offered so unexpectedly, 
 and to pursue once more their plans of long 
 ago, to build up their fallen hopes and restore 
 an authoritative Empire, in the accomplishment 
 of which the Emperor should himself help them. 
 
 The Empress immediately summoned M. 
 Rouher, who, together with certain persons 
 belonging to the party in open conflict with 
 the Liberals, appeared before her, and it was 
 agreed that regular council should meet to 
 offset the official council of the Emperor. 
 
 After this time conventicles were held by 
 the Empress and her faithful followers ; and it 
 was then that the famous question of " guaran- 
 tees " was raised and presented as a supreme 
 
3IO NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 and decisive argument against conciliation with 
 Prussia, and against the possibility of an under- 
 standing with that country. 
 
 When, indeed, M. Emile Ollivier, who had 
 succeeded in restoring peace, and who had 
 received satisfaction from Prussia, whose king 
 approved the retirement of Prince Leopold of 
 Hohenzollern from the candidacy of the throne 
 of Spain, presented himself before the Cham- 
 ber rejoicing that he was the bearer of such 
 good news, the party of the Empress was filled 
 with stupefaction, with discouragement, and with 
 fury. Once again power had escaped it, that 
 power of which it stood in imperative need. 
 A war would almost certainly ensure it the 
 possession of authority ; and it was essential that 
 this war should take place, and that its pretext 
 should be one of such weight that no discus- 
 sions could arise to delay its accomplishment. 
 The question of guarantees saved the situation. 
 This question, presented before the council of 
 ministers and the Legislative Corps, imbued 
 the conflict which had risen with the spirit 
 which it needed, and permitted Prince Bis- 
 marck to give free rein to his hatred of France. 
 
 The Empress had, unfortunately, in the Cab- 
 inet itself, if not partisans of her policy, at least 
 admirers of the extreme enthusiasm which she 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 311 
 
 showed at this time, and which she called by 
 the name of patriotism. Despite the efforts of 
 M. Emile Ollivier to calm over-excited minds, 
 despite the wise advice of the Due de Gramont, 
 which was, however, somewhat moderated by 
 his obedience to the wishes of the Empress, 
 the nation deferred to the desires expressed by 
 her; and in the face of the accusation of cow- 
 ardice brought by the authorities against the 
 Liberals, who opposed all further negotiations 
 with the king of Prussia, Count Benedetti, 
 ambassador to Berlin, received the order to 
 present more positive claims. 
 
 The events which followed are well known. 
 The king, who was at this time at Ems, was 
 accosted by M. Benedetti during his promenade, 
 and as our minister presented to him, for the 
 second time, the question of guarantees, he 
 showed some impatience, though he did not 
 depart from a perfect courtesy and correctness 
 of bearing. 1 
 
 Prince Bismarck then entered upon the scene. 
 He falsified the message of Prince Radziwill, 
 which related the interviews of the King and 
 M. Benedetti, and thus war became inevitable. 
 
 1 Count Benedetti related this incident to a dear and intimate 
 friend of his and mine, M. Eugene Bazin, who lived at Versailles, 
 and who himself told me of the circumstance. 
 
312 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 I have spoken of the cabals arranged by the 
 Empress and M. Rouher, whose purpose was 
 to check the pacific policy of the Emperor and 
 of his ministers. Among the important men of 
 whom were composed these secret councils, 
 the Due de Persigny cannot be forgotten. 
 Though he belonged to the absolutist party, 
 and though he held all liberalism in horror, we 
 must yet do him the justice to say that he did 
 not wish war. 
 
 In 1866, when, after the defeat at Sadowa, 
 Prussia found her forces weakened, he coun- 
 selled the Emperor to oppose the unification of 
 Germany, and the strengthening of a power 
 which might become in the future a danger for 
 France. In 1870, however, he feared a war for 
 our country ; and, as he was well aware of the 
 hypocrisy of those feelings of affection ex- 
 pressed for us by Austria and Italy, it was not 
 without alarm that he saw the Emperor enga- 
 ging himself in a problematical conflict, whose 
 results, judging from private documents and 
 from official correspondence, remained doubtful 
 in the extreme. 
 
 Perceiving that no attention was paid to his 
 advice, he declined to sit longer in the councils 
 of the Empress and M. Rouher, and he in- 
 formed the Emperor of the grave and perilous 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 313 
 
 events which were taking place. The Emperor, 
 however, much broken in health, and placed 
 between a domestic scandal and the frenzy of 
 Parliament, — a frenzy which had taken pos- 
 session of the whole country, and especially of 
 Paris, — had attached little importance to the 
 revelations made by M. de Persigny, and con- 
 tented himself by watching the phases of the 
 drama which was being played out before him. 
 At the last moment, however, he opposed the 
 declaration of war ; and when, after the incident 
 at Ems, he was obliged to admit that a duel 
 between France and Prussia was unavoidable, 
 he resigned himself sadly to the hard fate which 
 had visited him. 
 
 We have seen that the war of 1870 was de- 
 sired by the Empress and by the party which, 
 receiving its inspiration from her, was called by 
 her name. It was desired with the express and 
 clearly defined purpose of destroying the liberal 
 Empire, and of expelling from the government 
 those men who aided Napoleon III. in the task 
 which he had undertaken with a sincere convic- 
 tion of its justice ; with the distinct purpose, 
 too, of bringing back the hours of joy and of 
 absolutism, which had now escaped them, but 
 whose existence had given so much happiness 
 to a few ambitious spirits and to a few courtiers. 
 
314 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 The Emperor, ill and suffering, was forced 
 into the most atrocious enterprise which can be 
 imagined ; and it cannot even be said in excuse 
 that either the Empress or the court was igno- 
 rant of his physical infirmity, for it had been 
 decided in 1870 that the court should remain at 
 Saint-Cloud, and that any change of residence 
 should be avoided, lest it might fatigue the 
 sovereign, and increase his suffering. 
 
 Neither can it be denied that the Empress 
 desired war from the very motives which I have 
 ascribed to her ; for she herself, when at Flor- 
 ence after the downfall, said to General Moceni 
 that this war could and should have saved the 
 Empire and the papacy. 
 
 In regard to that which concerns the papacy, 
 I have already told how the Emperor, urged by 
 his consort not to abandon Rome, rejected the 
 proposals of Victor Emmanuel, who promised 
 an armed intervention, on the condition that he 
 should himself be free to adopt whatever policy 
 he chose against Pius IX. 
 
 Political interests, perhaps, require us to turn 
 our attention away from these facts ; but history 
 has its rights, and is above rivalries, selfish 
 greed, and hatred. It registers events with an 
 unerring wisdom and justice ; and humanity 
 sins in travestying the facts which belong to it, 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 3 1 5 
 
 and in appropriating to its own interests and 
 preferences what is rightfully the property of 
 history. 
 
 If in 1870 the sentiments entertained by 
 Prince Bismarck toward us admitted of no 
 equivocation, the party of the Empress gave 
 by its actions free play to these sentiments, and 
 rendered possible both their expression and 
 their practical application ; while in persisting 
 in its determination to see in the question of 
 Hohenzollern a premeditated outrage on the 
 dignity of France, it furnished Prussia with a 
 formidable pretext to enter into war with us, 
 and produced very strained relations between 
 Paris and Berlin after the refusal of the Emperor 
 to meet the advances of this body. 
 
 In regard to that which concerns the despatch 
 from -Ems, Bismarck has said all that can be 
 said. It has always been known that a certain 
 despatch was falsified ; but the public, labouring 
 under an error, accused the ministry of January 
 Second of this act, of this crime, we may better 
 say. Truth has, however, exonerated the men 
 who were innocent. 
 
 The despatch from Ems, nevertheless, and the 
 avowal made by Prince Bismarck, seem to me 
 to give rise to some doubts, and to provoke 
 
316 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 inquiries which I am astonished that the press 
 has not brought forward. 
 
 Prince Radziwill addressed to his leader, 
 Count Bismarck, by order of the king of 
 Prussia, a telegram relating to' the interviews 
 which our ambassador, Count Benedetti, had 
 held with William I. ; and Bismarck, consider- 
 ing that this telegram was likely to foil his own 
 designs, cynically misrepresented the message, 
 and, thus falsified, communicated it to the 
 European States. 
 
 How did it happen that M. Benedetti, con- 
 fronted by this falsehood, which was to involve 
 two nations in war and to place his country in 
 a position of great danger, allowed the ministers 
 to declare in the Chambers that he had received 
 an insult at Ems, without hastening to con- 
 tradict the statement made by Bismarck ? Why 
 did not M. Benedetti inform the minister, the 
 government, the Emperor himself, of these 
 events, and proclaim loudly that the assertions 
 made by the opposing diplomatic party were 
 false, that the king of Prussia had never in- 
 sulted him, and that he had never had occasion 
 to offend the king ? 
 
 Such a declaration as this would have reached 
 many ears ; and though it might, perhaps, have 
 been a slight violation of official courtesy, it 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 3 1 7 
 
 would still have saved the lives of more than 
 five hundred thousand men. This might, I 
 think, have atoned for a breach of that etiquette 
 which is observed by the diplomatic world. 
 
 On the other side, if M. Benedetti, contrary 
 to the statements of M. Emile Ollivier, who 
 says that he had never in his hand the original 
 telegram, informed the government of the 
 affairs which concerned it, how is it that the 
 men who at that time made their voices heard 
 through France did not announce to the Cham- 
 bers, to the nation, and to Europe the abomi- 
 nable expedient resorted to by Count Bismarck ? 
 How does it happen, furthermore, that, if our 
 government was not informed by our ambas- 
 sador, it omitted to demand explanation before 
 declaring war ? 
 
 One is truly lost in a multitude of conjec- 
 tures on this score, and frightened by the 
 weight of responsibility which attaches to the 
 circumstance, as well as by the absence of 
 conscience and of intelligence shown through- 
 out. If Bismarck, in the loquacity of his old 
 age and in the bitterness of feeling which he 
 entertained toward his sovereign, appears a man 
 somewhat less noble than that genial leader of 
 nations on whom we have been wont to look, 
 it must also be admitted that his adversaries 
 
318 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 fell very short of their duty, and in becoming 
 his prey showed themselves to be both short- 
 sighted and ignorant. 
 
 One man alone, I believe, and this was Na- 
 poleon III., understood the true cause of the 
 war, and realised, though he may have been 
 ignorant of the falsehoods involved, what its 
 results would be. 
 
 "Who knows," wrote he to General Lepic 
 at the moment of his own departure, " who 
 knows that we shall ever meet again ? " 
 
 It was he alone who had power to turn from 
 himself and from the country those evils which 
 had risen. In 1870, however, Napoleon III. 
 was a dead man whom his crew cast into the sea," 
 and of whom, after the body had disappeared 
 beneath the waves, it no longer thought. 
 
 I have based the statements made in the 
 preceding pages on data furnished me by one 
 of the persons whose relations with the Em- 
 peror and Empress were most intimate in 1870. 
 I have also substantiated them by an inter- 
 view with one of the former members of the 
 Privy Council of Napoleon III., a man who is 
 distantly related to me by marriage, M. Charles 
 
 A , who has very recently died, and whom 
 
 I met some years ago, not only in the Chamber 
 where he sat in the quality of deputy, but 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 319 
 
 also in the drawing-rooms of the Comtesse 
 d' H , niece of a general who filled an im- 
 portant role in 1871, at the time of the capit- 
 ulation of Paris, and also at the home of one 
 of my aunts, the Comtesse D . 
 
 The information which I have thus received 
 concerning the war of 1870 seems to me author- 
 itative ; yet, in a question such as that with 
 which this chapter is concerned, one cannot 
 refer to too many documents, and I have de- 
 cided to make public a letter which a former 
 
 diplomat, Comte de V , has sent me, and 
 
 which reveals this affair in an aspect which, 
 though not thoroughly satisfactory, is yet 
 interesting. 
 
 Comte de V seems to be among those 
 
 who remain assured that the war of 1870- was 
 undertaken purely in the interest of the dy- 
 nasty. About this time a discussion rose in 
 the Legislative Corps concerning an abrogation 
 of the laws of exile relating to the Princes 
 of Orleans ; and he, basing his conviction on 
 proof, which is certainly plausible, unhesitat- 
 ingly believes that the Bonapartist party and 
 the habitues of the Tuileries, frightened by the 
 suggestion of the return of these Princes, pro- 
 voked war for the purpose of rendering this 
 return impossible, which, had it been accom- 
 
320 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 plished, would without doubt, in the present 
 state of affairs, have given rise to political 
 dangers whose seriousness it would be futile 
 to deny. 
 
 The account given by Comte de V is 
 
 curious in the extreme, and it is for this reason 
 that I repeat it here. His argument, however, 
 still allows me to believe that the sudden power 
 attained by the Liberals who had won a place 
 in the councils of the Emperor, caused the Em- 
 press and her party more anxiety than did the 
 claims made in behalf of the Princes of Orleans. 
 I cannot but feel, too, that if war was desired 
 for the sake of restoring, in the strengh of new 
 and glorious victories, the authority and abso- 
 lutism of years past, such a war could not have 
 been accomplished upon the plea of a possible 
 dynastic rivalry in the future. 
 
 However this may be, the letter of Comte de 
 
 V merits attention. I therefore commend 
 
 it to the attention of historians, and to the pub- 
 lic in general, having already volunteered some 
 information designed to uphold my own convic- 
 tions in the matter. 
 
 " I have read," writes Comte de V to me, " your 
 
 various publications upon the private life of the Court of 
 the Tuileries, and upon the close of the imperial reign. I 
 have, however, been surprised that you were not led to 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 32 1 
 
 reveal the hidden motives, the true motives, which forced 
 upon the Empire that fatal line of conduct whose last step 
 was Sedan. 
 
 " In order to do so, it would, it seems to me, have suf- 
 ficed to read the account of the session of July 2, 187P, 
 during which a demand for the abrogation of the exile of 
 the Princes of Orleans was presented, and to consider 
 the excitement produced by this demand, and the com- 
 ments which it called forth. 
 
 "What would have been the most fatal blow which 
 the imperial rSgime could have received ? A movement, 
 surely, which would have confronted this rigime with a 
 dynastic opposition, with a royal family, which had left 
 France in the possession of profound and sympathetic 
 affection. Memories which are now forgotten clustered 
 thickly round its name during the Second Empire ; and it 
 was easy at this time to swell the expressions of sympa- 
 thy, and, with the concourse of all the discontented spir- 
 its of France, to raise loud voices of cheer. This was, 
 indeed, just what was done in the session of July 2, 
 1870. 
 
 " After the discourse delivered by M. de Montalembert 
 in 1852, not once during twenty years of the imperial 
 rigime was the name of the Princes of Orleans pro- 
 nounced in the French Chamber. Suddenly the aston- 
 ished Legislative Corps resounded with the name of 
 Orleans, of de Joinville, d'Aumale, and de Montpensier, 
 and tears were seen to flow, under the influence of sincere 
 emotion, from the eyes of deputies who had become Bo- 
 napartists from necessity, but who had almost all served 
 under the government of July, either in the army, the 
 navy, or the administration, and had with few exceptions 
 sustained it with their votes, only rallying at last round 
 Napoleon III. in the absence of anything better to do and. 
 in the fear of something worse. 
 
322 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 " I was present at the session of July 2, and was seated 
 in the tribune of the diplomatic corps, to which I then 
 belonged. The hall was crowded, and excited scenes 
 were expected. 
 
 " Arriving at the Palais-Bourbon, I met a .senator, 
 Baron de H . 
 
 " ' The session,' I said to him, ' is likely to be an agi- 
 tated one, is it not?' 
 
 " ' Bah,' replied he ; ' the young Estancelin will set off 
 a cracker, M. Emile Ollivier will put his foot on it, and 
 there will be some noise.' 
 
 "Events did not, however, carry out this prophecy. 
 With power, and with an emotion either real or feigned, 
 he who has been called the ' young Estancelin,' a per- 
 sonal friend of the Princes in time past, and who doubt- 
 less recalled the words of Lamartine, ' It is not to the 
 voice of reason that France responds, but to that of the 
 heart,' pleaded the cause of the exiled princes, though he 
 evoked neither the claims of law nor justice. He resusci- 
 tated, if I may thus express myself, the young exiles, who 
 had been in a measure forgotten, and presented them to 
 the Assembly. 
 
 " The former Orleanists remembered their enthusiasm 
 in past years, when the Prince de Joinville, at the head 
 of his marines, brought to Paris the ashes of Napoleon ; 
 their applause, when the Due d'Aumale, with his regi- 
 ment, bronzed by the sun of Africa, crossed the capital, 
 accompanied by cheers from Vincennes to Neuilly ; and 
 the emotion after the attempt made against his life. 
 
 " When the old general Lebreton, a Bonapartist, and 
 at that time questor of the Chamber of Deputies, raised 
 his strong, peremptory voice, and added his ringing words 
 to those of M. Estancelin, it seemed to me, in truth, that 
 it was the voice of the French army which spoke. I 
 remember well his last words. 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 323 
 
 " ' I have served the government of the Emperor,' he 
 said, ' in the days of hardship, but I have also served the 
 Due d'Aumale in Africa. I have often had cause to 
 admire his military talents. I should be happy to restore 
 to my country one of its best and greatest citizens.' 
 
 " ' Those are fine words,' a member cried to him as he 
 closed. ' The Duke is a man of parts.' 
 
 " Esquiros, Jules Favre, and Picard treated the ques- 
 tion in its legal aspect. The old Marquis de Pire, a 
 furious Bonapartist, joined his voice with theirs. 
 
 " K era try, also, attacked the ministers with his habit- 
 ual spirit and energy. 
 
 " One member of the opposition, too, M. Jules Grevy, 
 without defending the Cabinet, came to the same conclu- 
 sion, and met with the scorn of his colleagues of the 
 left wing by whom he was surrounded when he pro- 
 nounced his famous words, ' I will be neither a dupe nor 
 yet an accomplice.' 
 
 "The government, therefore, found itself suddenly 
 confronted by a great body of enemies, which had drawn 
 up on common ground, and stood united by a single 
 thought, which was both popular and anti-dynastic. It 
 saw even its friends hesitate to* take up its cause, so 
 moved were they by old reminiscences. So true and so 
 apparent was this, that at one time the Swiss minister, 
 who was seated behind me, gave expression to his sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " ' In this Bonapartist Chamber,' he exclaimed, ' there 
 seem to be but Orleanists.' 
 
 " In thus speaking, this diplomat but expressed the 
 thought which was in the minds of all. 
 
 " In issuing from the Chamber I gave my arm to the 
 Duchesse de G . 
 
 " ' Ah, my dear Count,' she said to me, ' it is not a 
 political, but a dynastic session which we have attended 
 
324 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 to-day. I cannot tell what will be its consequences, but 
 I believe that they will not be unimportant.' 
 
 " ' I share your feeling,' replied I. 'A terrible blow 
 has been dealt the Empire.' 
 
 " These events took place on the second of July, 1870. 
 
 " On Sunday, the third of July, the first cry of war was 
 raised by M. Chevandier de Valdr6me, minister of the 
 Interior. Emile de Girardin gave us, some months before 
 his death, an account of this incident. 
 
 "Emile de Girardin dined that evening with M. Che- 
 vandier de Valdrdme. After they had risen from the 
 table, the minister went toward him. 
 
 " ' You know the news? ' said he. ' We shall certainly 
 have a prince from the house of Hohenzollern on the 
 throne of Spain.' 
 
 " ' In what way,' asked the publicist, ' is that going to 
 affect us ? ' 
 
 "'What!' replied M. de Valdrome, 'do you not see 
 that this is a danger for France, a threat against her? 
 We shall not allow this candidacy ; we shall be compelled 
 to make it a casus belli.' 1 
 
 " ' Such an act would be most foolish.' 
 
 " ' Not at all ; and you must write an article to-morrow 
 to prove this very necessity.' 
 
 " ' Never ! ' 
 
 " Despite this exclamation, the desired article ap- 
 peared. It is true, however, that Emile Girardin pleaded 
 in his own excuse that it was not written by him. 
 
 " On this same day Prim received at Madrid a tele- 
 gram announcing the protest of the French government, 
 and its opposition to the candidacy of Prince Hohenzol- 
 lern to the throne of Spain. 
 
 " One of my friends was with him when he received 
 this message. After having read it, Prim crumpled the 
 sheet and threw it upon his desk. 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 325 
 
 " ' This,' he cried, 'is a little too much, and it arises 
 from a misunderstanding of the circumstances. Our re- 
 lations with the Tuileries were most harmonious? 
 
 " You will understand clearly from the preceding facts 
 the hitherto unknown causes of the war of 1870. 
 
 " It became necessary to turn the mind of the public 
 away from the question of the Princes of Orleans, and to 
 parry the stroke which had been dealt against the impe- 
 rial dynasty. War was the result of these efforts. 
 
 " Was it the clearly defined purpose of the Tuileries to 
 urge matters thus far, and to necessitate hostilities ? This 
 I do not believe, and the hesitancy and blind groping of 
 those first days would seem to confirm my disbelief. 
 When, however, one is fairly launched on a dangerous 
 course, it is often difficult to turn aside ; and when the 
 dynastic interests of 'a government are at stake, when 
 a court acts against the decrees of a sovereign, it be- 
 comes impossible that the head of the government should 
 control events and retrace his steps." 
 
 This is the remarkable letter written me by 
 the Comte de V . 
 
 The statements made herein seem, I repeat, 
 despite their clearness, to give rise to some in- 
 quiries. They are, nevertheless, in accordance 
 with my own account, in so far as they firmly 
 establish the fact that the intrigue which origi- 
 nated around the Emperor was designed for the 
 purpose of turning to the advantage of the gov- 
 ernment the threatened war between France 
 and Prussia. 
 
 Despite the sentiments still entertained by 
 
326 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 the old Orleanists who had now rallied round 
 the Empire, the sons of King Louis Philippe 
 were, even in 1870, little deserving of fear. 
 The Liberals, who, under the leadership of Na- 
 poleon III., were beginning to assume power, 
 were objects much more to be dreaded by the 
 party of the Empress ; and I think that I am 
 not too bold when I state that history holds 
 decisive proofs that the whole hostility of the 
 Empress and of her partisans was directed 
 against the men of January Second. 
 
 If, therefore, the question of the Princes of 
 Orleans is laid aside, it remains undeniable — 
 
 and the letter of the Comte de V — confirms 
 
 the statement — that the war of 1870 was but 
 desired and undertaken with the purpose of sub- 
 stituting the influence in the government of 
 men hated at the Tuileries for the authoritative 
 rule of men who were liked by the Empress and 
 her partisans — of substituting, indeed, for the 
 will of Napoleon III., who was old now and 
 feeble, the wishes of the Empress, who was still 
 in the full glory of her woman's beauty, and at 
 the zenith of her political power. 
 
 After the Hohenzollern affair was made 
 public, the Empress Eugenie not only used, as 
 we have seen, all her influence, together with 
 that of her following, to hasten a conflict be- 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 327 
 
 tween France and Prussia, but she also became 
 very nervous and irascible, and gave evidence 
 of her ill-humour to all who approached her. 
 
 She seemed more than ever unbalanced, and 
 controlled by thoughts and feelings which made 
 her wholly incomprehensible. At times she 
 would lapse into meditative moods, and absorb 
 her mind in thoughts which she did not re- 
 veal ; at others she would fall into the delirium, 
 as it were, of some wasting fever, whose se- 
 cret she also guarded sacredly. She had her 
 crises of gaiety, which were suddenly followed 
 by crises of tears, of doubts, of spontaneous 
 effusions and caprices, and was possessed by 
 an imperative need to affirm her own per- 
 sonality. 
 
 This condition of mind became most em- 
 phatic in the conversations which she contin- 
 ually held with her partisans, and often resulted 
 in painful scenes, in which her most devoted 
 friends were made to suffer. 
 
 Such exhibitions were usually childish in the 
 extreme, and were only the expression of the 
 mercurial temperament of a pettish woman. 
 There was one, however, which assumed al- 
 most the importance of a political act, and which 
 filled with terror those who witnessed it. It 
 took place at Saint-Cloud, and in the presence 
 
328 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 of some of the most intimate friends of the 
 Empress, one of whom, indeed, told me the 
 story. It certainly confirms the assertions 
 of history as contained in the documents to 
 which I have referred in writing this chapter, 
 and it is for this reason that I feel myself 
 called on to relate the incident. 
 
 The Hohenzollern. question had, as it is 
 known, become most bitter, and a rupture be- 
 tween France and Prussia was imminent, when 
 the Liberal opposition in the Legislative Corps, 
 by requiring from the ministry the communi- 
 cation of the diplomatic documents on which 
 the nation relied to legitimatise the declaration 
 of war, retarded the close of the relations be- 
 tween Paris and Berlin. 
 
 This adjournment of hostilities, as is to-day 
 clearly realised, was not at all in accordance 
 with the plans of the Empress and her party ; 
 and she, much excited and wrought upon, did 
 not in any degree conceal her discontent, which 
 was shared by the courtiers. There were, 
 nevertheless, among her friends some who, 
 without openly opposing her attitude, saw with 
 apprehension the development of a conflict 
 which they might certainly by prudence, tact, 
 and calm, have succeeded in averting. 
 
 One afternoon while these questions were 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 329 
 
 being discussed in the presence of the Empress, 
 
 one of her friends, the Comte de , had the 
 
 courage to speak, not this time as a courtier 
 whose one desire is to please, but as a brave 
 man, on whom danger has imposed frankness. 
 The Empress attacked with great vehemence 
 the deputies who had shown themselves refrac- 
 tory to projects of war, and then she paused, as 
 usual, to receive the approval of those who had 
 
 heard her speak. The Comte de , after a 
 
 brief silence, ventured to make his reply. 
 
 " Your Majesty speaks truly," said he. " If 
 Prussia has outraged France, and if M. Thiers 
 and his friends do not oppose the idea that 
 the Emperor avenges the country from purely 
 political and party interests, their role is odious. 
 We should not, however, be unjust toward 
 those men who, at this moment, seek to avert 
 any rupture between King William and Em- 
 peror Napoleon III. If the opposition, without 
 lessening the prestige of France, could accom- 
 plish a reconciliation, an understanding, be- 
 tween Paris and Berlin, I believe that the 
 government and the nation — and I respect- 
 fully submit my observation to your Majesty 
 — would owe it strong gratitude." 
 
 When the Count ceased speaking, stupefac- 
 tion was written on all faces, and the Empress, 
 
330 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 amazed and nonplussed, remained an instant 
 without replying. It was only a moment, how- 
 ever, before she recovered consciousness of the 
 situation. 
 
 "What," she exclaimed, turning brusquely 
 toward the speaker, her tones full of anger, 
 " What, is it you who speak thus ? We see 
 how you, too, pass to the Left. Ah, what will 
 become of me if my friends abandon me and 
 adopt the cause of the Liberals ? Such men 
 are but cowards who seek unforeseen popularity 
 under the guise of false patriotism. In inter- 
 fering with war they seek, in this instance, 
 to foil the designs of the Tuileries, as they 
 would have sought to hasten hostilities had 
 the Tuileries shown themselves pacific. Do 
 you not see that the men of the opposition 
 are liars, and that the hatred with which we 
 inspire them is their sole inspiration ? It is 
 me, beyond all, whom they hate ; it is on me 
 rather than on the Emperor that they wish 
 to be avenged. They know that, had the Em- 
 peror listened to me, they would never have 
 set their feet in the Legislative Corps, and they 
 cannot pardon me the intervention which, 
 unhappily, was futile. They detest me, but I 
 return their feeling in like measure." 
 
 She paused for a moment in her violent 
 
THE DECLARATION OF IV A R. 33 1 
 
 harangue ; but no one replied, either to applaud 
 her, or to calm her excitement, and she resumed 
 her discourse. 
 
 " I can hardly think," she continued, " that 
 any are so foolish as to accept the arguments 
 which they present, or to follow that retreat 
 which they counsel. When the campaign is at 
 an end, and when the victorious troops re-enter 
 France, we shall see if they have still the im- 
 pertinence to offer us advice, and to put obsta- 
 cles in the way of our projects. I will meet 
 them there, and we will sum up our accounts if 
 they wish to do so. 
 
 " All good things," she added, with increas- 
 ing irritation, " are dying in this country ; yes, 
 all good things. The government, the respect 
 for authority, religion, patriotism, are all disap- 
 pearing, to give place to, I know not what 
 ideas of independence and of revolt. It is time, 
 truly, that we should meet these conditions." 
 
 Turning toward the persons who were listen- 
 ing to her, she supplicated them, evidently 
 much moved and very impatient, like a child 
 who asks for a thing which is accorded it with 
 hesitation. 
 
 " You will help me, will you not," she con- 
 tinued, "to restore to the Emperor the authority 
 of which he has been robbed ? You will aid me 
 
332 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 in the difficult task which has been laid upon 
 me ? Say that you will help me, say it, for I 
 want your co-operation." 
 
 Angry and exhausted, she clenched her fists, 
 and began to sob ; then crumpling her dress 
 with her fingers which she opened and shut 
 convulsively, her force passed away, leaving her 
 motionless and without strength in a state like 
 that of a faint. 
 
 She was humoured and cared for by those 
 
 round her ; and the Comte de , sorry to 
 
 have provoked unconsciously such a scene, left 
 the room, shaking his head sadly. 
 
 Great fear, as I have already said, had taken 
 possession of the court at the news of the 
 Hohenzollern affair, and this fear reached its 
 maximum when the declaration of war was an- 
 nounced to the country and to Europe. The 
 Empress, however, exerted an imperative will, 
 and was filled with an enthusiasm which could 
 but be contagious. Under the influence of her 
 bearing, the men and the women who held 
 their court round the sovereigns and gave free 
 rein to their pleasures and frivolities, were 
 reassured and inspired by new hopes for the 
 future — a future which should not deny them 
 
THE DECLARATION OF IV A R. 333 
 
 the joys which for so many years had been 
 theirs. 
 
 They did not accustom themselves at all to 
 this unusual state of disturbance, to the noises 
 which rose from the street, and, echoing through 
 the air, reached even the imperial dwelling. 
 These were strange things, truly, which had 
 come to pass ; they interrupted the even course 
 of existence at the Tuileries, and for this 
 reason were to be regretted. The campaign, 
 however, which was about to begin had been 
 represented to them in so bright a light that 
 the habitufc of the court had at last calmed 
 their anxiety and resumed their good spirits 
 and their careless bearing, which was like that 
 of demigods whose creed is invulnerable. 
 
 There was, it is true, a murmur of terror 
 when the Emperor commanded that the band 
 of the Guard should play the Marseillaise under 
 the windows of the palace at Saint-Cloud ; the 
 people ventured a few remarks of scorn and 
 irony when they heard the echo of the revolu- 
 tionary hymn ; but as Napoleon III. had ex- 
 erted his authority on this point, they deferred 
 %o his wishes, in appearance satisfied. 
 
 A few words spoken by the Emperor at this 
 time in regard to the Marseillaise, which was 
 played by official sanction, are important. 
 
334 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 One of his chamberlains expressed aston- 
 ishment that he should be willing to listen to 
 music of Rouget de l'lsle, and that he should 
 command its public hearing. 
 
 " We should to-day," replied the Emperor, 
 "neglect nothing which is French, nothing 
 which can quicken the pulse of our throbbing 
 hearts. The Marseillaise, whether its spirit is 
 true or false, will embue the people with en- 
 thusiasm. It is for this reason that I tolerate 
 its performance." 
 
 " If the old royalist cry," he added, " that of 
 ' Montjoie et Saint-Denys,' could gain a victory 
 for France, I should command my troops to 
 give it. There are circumstances when it is 
 important to understand the French." 
 
 The life at court hardly changed after the 
 departure of the Emperor for the army of the 
 Rhine, but continued much as it had been 
 before all these events had transpired. The 
 courtiers continued to enjoy their frivolities 
 and to encourage their self-interested hopes. 
 The enthusiasm of the Empress knew no abate- 
 ment ; and we may safely affirm that she, was 
 truly happy, for she could now practise her 
 authority without check and establish it beyond 
 discussion. She reigned, and she reigned truly, 
 in all her grace of womanhood, and with the 
 
THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 335 
 
 respected authority of a sovereign, while the 
 frontier remained silent and deserted. When, 
 however, the sinister echo of our reverses 
 reached her, when she had a vision, like a 
 nightmare, of those masses of humanity which 
 were moving round the fields of Alsace killing 
 and wounding each other, she gave a cry of 
 distress ; it was not a cry which rose from the 
 heart of an Empress who sees her dream van- 
 ishing, but that of a miserable and wounded 
 woman. She began now to waver. 
 
 She understood that for her everything was 
 lost ; that all those sweet flavours of life which 
 she had tasted with such delicious enjoyment 
 would in the future be denied her. She knew 
 that her hope was gone, that her hatreds, as her 
 affections, were at an end ; she knew that the 
 Empire, in falling, must crush her. She then 
 seemed to suffer a transformation, and was 
 exalted by truly humanitarian principles; in- 
 stead of allowing herself to be mastered by 
 sorrow, she rose superb in her affliction, and 
 with that intuitive sense which lies at the core 
 of the feminine character and which exerts 
 itself in supreme moments of danger, she met- 
 amorphosed herself and was, what she had 
 never before known how to be, the Empress. 
 
 She held councils, she inspired courage, for- 
 
336 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 got bitterness, and sacrificed sympathies, that 
 France might better recover itself and again 
 attain happiness. If it is true that a single 
 hour of nobility and of generosity effaces in 
 the life of a human being the hours conse- 
 crated to frivolities and to selfishness, history 
 will not hesitate to render its homage to the 
 Empress Eugdnie in this crisis of terror through 
 which she passed ; history will not hesitate to 
 salute her in the midst of the loss and affliction 
 which she supported with so much dignity, in 
 the midst of those rapid and tragic days during 
 which, in pitiable loneliness, away from her 
 friends and separated even from herself, she 
 reigned — that is, she suffered and wept. 
 
SEDAN. 337 
 
 XI. 
 
 SEDAN. 
 
 Having arrived at Sedan, the Emperor Napo- 
 leon III. established his residence and that of 
 his quarter-general at the sous-prefecture. On 
 the evening of August thirty-first, he was caused 
 some disquietude by news of the battle at 
 Mouzon ; but, assured that the troops were 
 gathering around Sedan, and, in obedience to 
 the command, were preparing for battle, which 
 it was believed must take place in a few hours, 
 he was somewhat reassured. 
 
 He was unable, nevertheless, to calm entirely 
 the agitation which on that evening, August 
 thirty-first, had taken possession of him. He 
 paced his room in feverish anxiety, demanded the 
 details of the army's operations, and informed 
 himself concerning the material and moral con- 
 dition of the regiments. Long and doleful si- 
 lences would succeed his words, and a sudden 
 immobility transfix him to his place, while he 
 lapsed into reveries from which he only issued 
 to resume his steps up and down the apart- 
 
338 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 merit, and to pronounce at intervals short, sad 
 sentences. 
 
 There were round him generals, orderlies, 
 and aides-de-camp. He had, however, brought 
 with him no functionary of his civil establish- 
 ment, and the story which represents him as 
 surrounded by his ordinary chamberlains is 
 false. Two of the quartermasters who were 
 included in his military household had accom- 
 panied him, and received as salary for the 
 campaign the sum of ten thousand francs each. 
 
 These persons were with him on the evening 
 of August thirty-first, and but responded to his 
 rather incoherent remarks in monosyllables. It 
 was already late, and the Emperor and his ret 
 inue were preparing to take a little rest, when 
 he spoke with great effort and with a prophetic > 
 realisation of affairs. 
 
 "We shall never recover," he said, "from 
 this." 
 
 Napoleon III. had been, since the first defeat 
 of his army, possessed with the idea which he 
 expressed on many occasions, of commanding 
 the retreat of the soldiers and of recalling to 
 Paris those who still remained to him, thus 
 separating the French and Prussian armies, 
 and making an offensive return possible to his 
 generals. When Marshal Mac Mahon had re- 
 
SEDAN. 339 
 
 formed his regiments, now materially decreased 
 in number, and added to them new and young 
 recruits, the Emperor raised his voice in favour 
 of a backward march on Paris. The minister, 
 however, influenced by the Empress Eugdnie, 
 begged him not to carry out this project. 
 M. Rouher sought to prove to him that only 
 a movement eastward could save the country, 
 and the poor sovereign, dispossessed of his 
 authority, did not feel it right to assume the 
 responsibility of a command which was open 
 to so much criticism. He claimed but the 
 satisfaction of remaining in the midst of the 
 soldiers whose captain he had been, that he 
 might rejoice in their triumph were they vic- 
 torious, and suffer with them were they van- 
 quished. This privilege being accorded him, — 
 the expression, alas ! has too much truth when 
 used to describe the relation of the Emperor 
 to his government, — he came to Sedan, where 
 he was terrified by the vision of a horrible 
 drama. 
 
 " We shall never recover," he said, " from 
 this." 
 
 He was filled with regret that he had been 
 unable to withdraw the army from the frontiers, 
 and this ejaculation was called forth by his 
 despair. 
 
340 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 As those who surrounded Napoleon III. 
 made no response to his words, he let them 
 pass without comment or explanation, and wish- 
 ing to retire to his own room, he saluted his 
 officers with the same words which he was wont 
 to use to his friends in the Tuileries. 
 
 " I will bid you good-bye, gentlemen," he said, 
 "until to-morrow." 
 
 When the Emperor found himself alone, he 
 paced his room up and down, till exhausted, 
 he fell into a chair. Weary and discouraged, 
 he then undressed himself and went to bed. He 
 did not sleep, however, and those who stood 
 guard at his door heard him moan, for at this 
 time he suffered much from his kidneys ; he 
 muttered, too, indistinct words during the night, 
 and at times threw himself from the bed. 
 
 At half-past three the next morning he 
 abandoned all thought of repose, and, making a 
 rapid toilet, summoned Captain Fieron of the 
 Cent-Gardes, who did not leave him again ; he 
 then dressed himself carefully and waxed his 
 moustaches as was his custom. 
 
 An engagement with the Bavarians took 
 place in the neighborhood of Bazeilles during 
 the day of August thirty-first. It was here, in- 
 deed, that the battle of Sedan commenced. 
 
 The Emperor had scarcely finished dressing 
 
SEDAN. 341 
 
 when, at about four o'clock, he was startled by 
 the noise of a fusillade. He inquired its cause, 
 and was told that Bazeilles was again attacked 
 by the Bavarians, confronting whom stood the 
 division of the marine infantry which was com- 
 manded by General de Vassoignes, and which 
 was to support the Twelfth Corps commanded 
 by General Lebrun. 
 
 The Emperor seemed satisfied by the reply 
 which he received ; and after having commanded 
 the officers belonging to his private service to 
 assemble, he issued with them from the sous- 
 prefecture and commanded them to mount their 
 horses. 
 
 Those who saw bim at this time noticed 
 the extreme difficulty with which he himself 
 mounted, and the expression of horrible suf- 
 fering which passed over his face as he ar- 
 ranged himself in the saddle. It was only a 
 moment's weakness on his part, however, and, 
 reins in hand, he appeared, though greatly 
 careworn, with all his accustomed grace and 
 dignity. 
 
 A thick fog hung over Sedan and its envi- 
 rons on this morning of September first, 1870, 
 and it was through a thick mist that the Em- 
 peror and his officers left the sous-prefecture on 
 their way to the field of battle. 
 
342 NAPOLEON 111. 
 
 As little by little they approached Bazeilles, 
 the noise of firing increased, mingling with the 
 ominous detonations of the artillery and the 
 sounds of distant uproar which were brought 
 nearer by the echoes, and which the undulating 
 waves of mist seemed to cast back and forth 
 upon each other. 
 
 The Emperor and his escort rode, silent and 
 with hearts downcast, through this unknown 
 region. It was not long, however, before the 
 sun dissipated the vapours and allowed them to 
 watch the engagement. 
 
 The battle, which had begun at Bazeilles, 
 travelled gradually northward, till it surrounded 
 Sedan, and arrived at the Fond de Givonne. 
 
 The German artillery turned its death-deal- 
 ing machines against the French lines, which, 
 intrepid, fought hard and thinned by tens the 
 ranks of the enemy which had drawn up too 
 close. It, however, became necessary, in order 
 that the Twelfth Corps, which was in the thick 
 of battle, should come to a decisive stand, that 
 our artillery should advance to its aid. Unfor- 
 tunately our pieces, put to the battery and 
 replying to the fire of the Germans, proved a 
 disastrous fact ; proved, that is, that their range 
 was insufficient, so that the projectiles did not 
 reach the desired point. 
 
SEDAN. 343 
 
 It was now half-past six, and Marshal Mac 
 Mahon, who commanded in chief and who 
 had gone to reconnoitre the position of the 
 troops, was seriously wounded by a volley of 
 shells ; he fell from his horse and was carried 
 to Sedan, where he transmitted his authority to 
 General Ducrot. 
 
 As he was half way between Sedan and 
 Bazeilles, the Emperor met the lugubrious 
 cortege which was bearing the Marshal away 
 from the field of battle. He paused, and bend- 
 ing over the wounded man, spoke to him a 
 few affectionate words, and then continued his 
 route. 
 
 Having at his side General Pajol, General 
 Courson, Captain Guzman, Captain D'Heuden- 
 court, Captain Fi^ron, his aide-de-camp, Ney de 
 la Moskowa, Captain Trecesson, and various 
 other officers whose names escape me, he di- 
 rected his course toward the right upon Ba- 
 zeilles where the infantry of the marine and the 
 Twelfth Corps, commanded by General Lebrun, 
 were engaged against the Bavarians. He, how- 
 ever, faced about with a sudden change of 
 resolution and hastened toward the Fond de 
 Givonne, where the battle was equally fierce. 
 
 When the Emperor reached this place, it 
 was swept by storms of canister-shot, and, ac- 
 
344 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 cording to the description of one of the witnes- 
 ses who took part in, and escaped from, this 
 conflict, the horses which the sovereign and his 
 officers rode, with an instinctive realisation of 
 the danger to which they were exposed, trem- 
 bled and swayed so that it was necessary to 
 hold them with a firm rein. 
 
 As, however, he looked out over Bazeilles, it 
 seemed to the Emperor that the French had 
 the advantage, and he was filled with rejoicing ; 
 but suddenly a movement of retreat puzzled 
 and disquieted him. He immediately sent one 
 of his officers, General Guzman, to ask an 
 explanation from General Ducrot, who made 
 known the new disposition of the troops, and 
 his command that they should retreat upon Illy, 
 which lies to the north of Sedan, in order to 
 avoid the danger, feared since the preceding 
 evening, of being hemmed in by the enemy. 
 Napoleon III. received this message silently, 
 expressing neither approbation nor disapproval. 
 
 Suddenly an unforeseen incident plunged 
 the Emperor into his former state of dejection. 
 Toward ten o'clock the retreat began and was 
 duly accomplished under the command of Gen- 
 eral Ducrot. The troops paused, and then be- 
 gan to retrace their steps, with an apparent 
 desire to assume again the offensive attitude 
 
SEDAN. 345 
 
 which they had abandoned. This action had 
 a cause foreign to all calculation. General 
 Wimpffen, furnished with a letter from the 
 minister of war, came to dispossess General 
 Ducrot of his command, and now traced for 
 the army a plan of battle entirely contrary to 
 that which it had till now followed. General 
 Wimpffen, confiding his desire to " throw the 
 Germans into the Meuse," commanded the 
 obedience of all. Without realising the con- 
 sequences of that disorder which a change of 
 tactics must occasion the troops, he assumed 
 supreme authority and forced the submission of 
 the regiments to his will. 
 
 The Emperor, who for more than an hour 
 had remained exposed to the fire of the enemy's 
 artillery at Givonne, undoubtedly understood the 
 danger of the position in which the army was 
 placed ; but, and this was perhaps unfortunate, 
 he was ignorant of the discussion, or rather the 
 dispute, which had arisen between Generals 
 Ducrot and Wimpffen concerning whose au- 
 thority in the decisive moment should be exer- 
 cised. It was only at Sedan and after the 
 battle that he learned of the rivalry between 
 these two men, and could analyse its results. 
 
 Who knows but that, had he understood the 
 irascible claims of General Wimpffen and the 
 
346 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 patriotic sorrow of General Ducrot, he might 
 have abandoned his role of simple spectator, and 
 used his sword against this criminal rivalry ? 
 Seizing again the authority which had been 
 taken from him, he might, perhaps, have 
 given to this day of Sedan, which was power- 
 less to procure victory, at least a less fearful 
 ending. 
 
 The Emperor had seen, while he stood at 
 Givonne in the face of the German batteries 
 hurling forth their volleys of shot, several men 
 of his escort fall at his side mortally wounded, 
 and also a few of his officers. 
 
 Some moments before General Ducrot yielded 
 the commandership to General Wimpffen, Cap- 
 tain d'Heudencourt, to whom the sovereign dic- 
 tated a message, was struck by a shell and fell 
 to the ground instantly killed. Horses, too, 
 had fallen round him, their bodies ripped open ; 
 and, as each man died, as each poor horse ex- 
 pired, the Emperor turned his head sadly toward 
 them with an expression of despairing grief, and 
 then resumed his attitude of spectator. 
 
 Leaving at last the Fond de Givonne, he 
 once more directed his course toward Bazeilles, 
 halting for a moment on the plain of Moncelle, 
 also covered with shells. During the retreat 
 commanded by General Ducrot, the Germans 
 
SED/iN. 347 
 
 had advanced and now occupied Bazeilles, which 
 our troops were resolved to reconquer. 
 
 The Emperor remained for a^ long time on 
 the plateau of Moncelle, where General Cour- 
 son and Captain Trecesson received many 
 wounds at his side ; followed then by his escort, 
 which inspired admiration by its calm intrepid- 
 ity, he descended to Bazeilles, where he crossed 
 the line of action. Turning, finally, his back on 
 the battle, he proceeded to Sedan. 
 
 It was now half-past eleven, and the Emperor 
 had been on the field for five long hours. Dur- 
 ing this time he had remained almost silent, in- 
 specting with his field-glass the various points 
 of battle, and suffering horribly from the dis- 
 ease of which he subsequently died ; suffering so 
 horribly that, as I have stated in my book, 
 The Empress Eugenie, and in the chapter 
 which is entitled " After Sedan," he held his 
 two hands on the pommel of the saddle and 
 refused to dismount, as he was begged to do, 
 fearing that, did he yield, he would not be able 
 again to ride his horse. 
 
 When the Emperor re-entered Sedan, forcing 
 a difficult passage through the thousands of 
 soldiers who, driven from the field of battle, 
 sought refuge in the town, it was one o'clock 
 
348 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 in the afternoon, and the day was lost for the 
 French. 
 
 A blazing sun had succeeded the early morn- 
 ing fog, and now cast its rays on the last efforts 
 of the French army, seeming to throw an ironic 
 light on our sorrow. 
 
 After a campaign of some weeks, startling in 
 its progress and in its fatal results, our regi- 
 ments, disorganised and demoralised by a course 
 of murderous and futile engagements, returned 
 to die in Sedan, the old frontier town, whose 
 fortifications, unprepared for a defence, but 
 offered them false and traitorous protection. 
 Drawn up before the city, they sustained the 
 attacks of the Germans, who, moment by mo- 
 ment, hemmed them closer in by their formid- 
 able artillery. The greater part resisted still, 
 but signs of disorder made themselves felt in 
 the ranks ; already entire battalions, despairing 
 of victory and fearing the threatening massacre, 
 abandoned the field and fled into the town. 
 
 Papers and documents lay strewn among 
 weapons and corpses on the ground, while horses 
 and beasts of burden, in some cases fearfully 
 mangled, rushed wildly between the trees and 
 among the debris of waggons, powder-carts, and 
 fallen breastworks, mingling with the comba- 
 tants, and following each other in endless pro- 
 
SEDAN. 349 
 
 cession, like the waves of some bloody sea in- 
 vading the land. 
 
 The sun gilded the scene, lending its irradia- 
 tion to the humid, acrid, and sticky crimson 
 which flowed from yawning wounds and ferti- 
 lised the ground, bearing away the life and soul 
 of the bodies which by thousands lay stretched 
 out in the dust. The enormous disk stood 
 high in the heavens, and kindled with its fire 
 this red September afternoon, piercing the 
 thick smoke of the powder and irradiating the 
 opaque atmosphere, reminding one of the many- 
 coloured bottles which in the cities shine through 
 the darkness of night upon the passers-by from 
 out the chemists' windows. 
 
 The French had made a final effort to repulse 
 the revolving lines of the Germans. A charge 
 had been made and the struggle was terrible ; 
 there had been great butchery round Sedan, 
 human butchery, so full always of madness, of 
 suffering, and of terror, the sinister forerunner 
 of deep silences, long periods of repose, and of a 
 final awakening. 
 
 It was with his mind full of this monstrous 
 vision that the Emperor re-entered Sedan and 
 proceeded toward the sous-prefecture. As he 
 approached the postern, M. Ney de la Moskowa, 
 who followed closely after him, was again 
 
350 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 wounded in the arm by an explosion of 
 shells. 
 
 The town presented a spectacle never before 
 witnessed, and had become an awful counter- 
 part of the field of battle. 
 
 The streets and public places were full of 
 soldiers, in the midst of whom rose up great 
 heaps of weapons, over which, regardless of the 
 noise of objects crushed to powder, passed with 
 oaths and the noise of thunder, the powder- 
 carts, waggons, and cannons of the artillery, 
 while broken teams without drivers rushed past 
 at a furious gallop. 
 
 Projectiles began to fall in the town, and 
 spread indescribable confusion among this mass 
 of people and things. The inhabitants took 
 refuge in their cellars ; and the soldiers, drunk 
 with powder and blood, treated the city as 
 though it had been taken. They entered the 
 houses and broke the furniture in their search 
 for food and wine, issuing thence with a stag- 
 gering gait, their eyes brightened with the 
 purpose of crime. Cries of " Treason, trea- 
 son ! " rang through the streets and alleyways. 
 People became crazy in their desperation, and 
 the city was filled with the abomination of as- 
 sault and pillage. The Emperor saw at a glance 
 the horror of the scene, and resolved that the 
 massacre should be checked. 
 
SEDAN. 35 1 
 
 Having returned to the prefecture, he, to- 
 gether with the officers who were still left him, 
 retired to the room which served him as an 
 office. He had scarcely entered his apartments 
 before he braced himself with one hand on the 
 edge of a table, and then sank exhausted into 
 a seat. 
 
 " This is too much," he murmured in a voice 
 full of sorrow, " this is too much. Why was I 
 not killed upon the field ? " 
 
 He then lapsed into silence, and let his fore- 
 head sink on his right hand, his chest heaving, 
 his frame shaken by convulsive movements. 
 Those who saw him at this moment believed 
 that he was crying, and were deeply moved as 
 they watched the sorrow of this man, who 
 scarcely knew what it was to shed a tear. 
 
 The battle, however, continued round Sedan ; 
 and the rumbling of the artillery, like the noise 
 of thousands of carts rolling over pavements, 
 indicated the nearer and systematic approach of 
 the German lines. 
 
 At each new and louder crash the Emperor 
 raised his head and listened, his frame shaken, 
 the muscles of his face contracted, his fingers 
 playing nervously on the table with all that 
 agitation which is usually peculiar to a dying 
 man. 
 
3 52 N4POLEON Hi- 
 
 lt was two o'clock. Suddenly a fearful ex- 
 plosion shook the air. The German artillery- 
 had succeeded in surrounding the town, and it 
 now gave fire from all its guns on the debris of 
 the French army. 
 
 The Emperor rose, looking very pale. 
 
 "O friends," he said, "what an awful thing 
 this is ! Will it never have an end ? " 
 
 He then sank back into his chair, horribly 
 broken, his tangled locks of grey hair falling 
 confusedly over his temples. 
 
 He had eaten nothing since he left Sedan on 
 his way to the field of. battle. According to 
 the command of an officer a plate of sand- 
 wiches, a little cake, and some Madeira wine 
 were now brought him. 
 
 General Wimpffen, who elsewhere renders 
 homage to the courage shown by Napoleon III. 
 during this journey, has been pleased to state 
 that the unfortunate sovereign on his return 
 from Sedan took a hearty breakfast, while 
 those who remained on the field of action, and 
 the generals who commanded their troops in 
 the face of the Germans, could only obtain a 
 few raw carrots to appease their hunger. 
 
 General Wimpffen was not at this moment 
 near the Emperor, and I have based my state- 
 ments on those of a man who did not leave 
 
SEDAN. 353 
 
 him during the day. I affirm that Napoleon 
 III. declined the dish which was offered him, 
 and, indeed, scarcely noticed it, so absorbed 
 was he in gloomy thoughts, and but poured out 
 for himself a little water, which he swallowed in 
 feverish thirst. 
 
 The continuous detonation of the artillery 
 seemed to increase the mental suffering of the 
 Emperor, and a moment came when he felt that 
 he could no longer endure it. He rose sud- 
 denly, looking as though he had recovered his 
 old strength. 
 
 " This must end," he said, " it must ! Of 
 what avail is so much bloodshed, so much 
 slaughter ? " 
 
 It was almost three o'clock. The Emperor 
 summoned one of his orderly officers, and com- 
 manded him to go to the citadel, there to hoist 
 the white flag. 
 
 This order having been executed, the battle 
 still did not cease, and the Emperor was unable 
 to control his impatience. 
 
 " My God," he muttered over and over again, 
 " my God ! " 
 
 He could no longer remain in his chair ; and 
 as he asked, for perhaps the tenth time, the 
 inexplicable motive of the continued firing after 
 the white flag had been raised, General Le- 
 
354 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 brun entered his room. Eagerly the sovereign 
 hastened toward him. 
 
 " Why is it, my dear General," he said, " that 
 the fighting continues ? More than an hour 
 ago I commanded the white flag to be raised 
 on the citadel, that this useless battle might be 
 brought to an end. There has been too much 
 bloodshed, and I wish for no more. I want an 
 armistice." 
 
 General Lebrun then offered the explanation 
 which Napoleon III. had demanded of his offi- 
 cers before his arrival. He made known to 
 him that, according to the laws of war, the 
 white flag did not require the cessation of fire ; 
 and that, in order to obtain the armistice, it 
 was necessary that the general-in-chief of the 
 vanquished army should dispatch to the gen- 
 eral-in-chief of the victorious army a messenger, 
 bearing a written demand for the cessation of 
 hostilities. 
 
 " In that case, my dear General," said the 
 Emperor, " return to M. Wimpffen and beg him 
 to do that which is requisite to the realisation 
 of my wish." 
 
 General Lebrun obeyed the Emperor's re- 
 quest, and rejoining the general, transmitted 
 to him the message of the sovereign. M. 
 Wimpffen, however, grew very angry, and de- 
 
SEDAN. 355 
 
 clared that he would in no wise check the 
 battle, and wished no armistice. The firing 
 was not, therefore, suspended. 
 
 Awful hours were yet to come and to run 
 their course. It was with great anxiety that 
 the Emperor awaited the result of the message 
 which he had sent to General Wimpffen. 
 
 Sedan became untenable. The fire, far from 
 abating, increased, and the city was filled with 
 shells which killed and wounded the unhappy 
 victims confined within it. Ambulances be- 
 came necessary, and sinister fires broke out in 
 several parts of the town. 
 
 Finally, toward eight o'clock, General Wim- 
 pffen presented himself before the Emperor. 
 Offering his resignation as commander-in-chief, 
 he refused to arbitrate for what was no longer 
 armistice, but capitulation. He was, however, 
 compelled to assume the terrible mission which 
 he had sought to evade, but which the attitude 
 of his colleagues forced upon him. 
 
 He presented himself before the Prussian 
 quarter-general, and 'the battle ceased. All was, 
 however, lost ; and the Emperor Napoleon III. 
 remained henceforth without crown or sword. 
 
 Strange things were heard and seen on that 
 evening, whose shadows fell on so many deso- 
 
356 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 late hearts, on so many mutilated bodies. One 
 army, that of the Germans, was seen lifting its 
 face toward heaven, where the stars shone, and 
 consecrating to God its victory. Thousands of 
 soldiers raised loud hymns of praise, while cap- 
 tains and chaplains stood by. Through the 
 night, whose darkness was illumined by the 
 tremulous light of the bivouacs, were seen to 
 pass troops of men with torn hair and red 
 with blood, who, after the barbarous yells of 
 the day, now shouted forth the liturgy of their 
 faith ; for these men were good or evil accord- 
 ing as destiny cast them, irresponsible and un- 
 conscious, toward good or evil. 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 3$7 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 
 
 I have already told how, on the day of Sep- 
 tember fourth, the Empress Eugenie, abandoned 
 by all, fled from the Tuileries, accompanied by 
 a few faithful friends, among whom were Met- 
 ternich and Nigra. I have already told the 
 story of the sad hours which the Emperor Na- 
 poleon III. survived after Sedan ; and the pub- 
 lic will doubtless recall the curious and tragic 
 incidents which characterised his trip across 
 Belgium, when he was on his way to Germany, 
 there to give himself up as prisoner of war. 
 
 The account of the departure of the Empress 
 has, however, never as yet been made public ; 
 and the world is ignorant of the experiences 
 which she underwent before embarking at 
 Trouville, on her way from France to England. 
 I am about to give the reader an account of 
 this journey. 
 
 Much has been said concerning the conduct 
 of the Empress on September fourth, and during 
 that which is commonly called her flight, which 
 
358 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 is wholly false, and but the product of the ad- 
 miring, or else the unfavourable, prejudice with 
 which she is regarded by false and biassed his- 
 torians. The truth is most simple. Surrounded, 
 I repeat, by a few of her friends, among whom 
 were Mme. de la Poeze and Mme. la Mar^chale 
 Canrobert, she placed herself, when she saw 
 that the Tuileries were shortly to be invaded, 
 under the protection of Prince Metternich and 
 Signor Nigra, and left her apartments, hasten- 
 ing to the gate of the Louvre, after traversing 
 the lateral galleries of the palace. 
 
 Finding herself at last in the street, opposite 
 the church of Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois, her- 
 self thickly veiled, and having with her only 
 Mme. Lebreton and Signor Nigra, she remained 
 fixed to the spot in a state of great anxiety, 
 leaning against the railing of the gardens which 
 extend in front of the colonnade, waiting for 
 Prince Metternich, who had gone to fetch his 
 coupe, which had been stationed on the qnai at 
 a point where now the tram passes to Louvre- 
 Passy. 
 
 It was while she thus stood waiting that a 
 small urchin recognised her. 
 
 " Ha, ha," he cried, pointing to her, " that is 
 the Empress ! " 
 
 As Prince Metternich still did not come, and 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 359 
 
 as the crowd increased and became more noisy, 
 she hailed one of the cabs which was passing 
 quietly through the streets, and drove directly 
 to the house of a friend. This friend was away 
 from home ; and the Empress, for a moment 
 disconcerted, gave the coachman the address of 
 Dr. Evans, her dentist, who lived on what is 
 now the corner of the Avenue du Bois de Bou- 
 logne and the Avenue Malakoff. 
 
 Hardly had she entered his house, where she 
 happily found him at home, before the Empress 
 fainted ; and the doctor, seeing that she had 
 need of care and sustenance, for she had eaten 
 nothing for twenty-four hours, gave her a little 
 bouillon, and persuaded her to remain in Paris 
 till the next day. It was, therefore, on Septem- 
 ber fifth that she started on her journey to a 
 foreign country, accompanied by Mme. Le- 
 breton and her host. 
 
 They travelled in a carriage with four seats, 
 drawn by two horses, and on the box were two 
 valets in the livery of the doctor. 
 
 As they crossed the Square of Courbevoie, 
 where is to be seen on a pedestal the profile of 
 Napoleon III., the Empress leaned slightly from 
 the window. This was an act of imprudence ; 
 and a passer-by recognising her, as the gamin 
 had done on the preceding evening, shouted 
 
360 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 out the news. The populace pursued the car- 
 riage ; but the coachman lashed his horses, and 
 they were able to gain rapidly on the crowd, 
 and soon reached open country, leaving Paris 
 far behind, wrapped in its mist and possessed 
 by feverish unrest. 
 
 This handsome equipage, however, on pass- 
 ing through towns and villages, attracted the 
 attention of the inhabitants ; and, owing to the 
 unusual state of excitement caused by recent 
 events, this notice was far from reassuring. It 
 was most important that the social rank of the 
 travellers should be disguised ; for, were their 
 identity suddenly revealed, the most serious 
 dangers might result to the Empress. This 
 flight might then become like that to Varennes, 
 and its results be as lamentable. Dr. Evans 
 understood the danger of the situation, and re- 
 solved that it should be averted. 
 
 It was important that they should first dis- 
 pose of the carriage in which they were travel- 
 ling, and continue their journey in a vehicle 
 which could attract no attention. As Dr. 
 Evans was explaining his ideas to the Empress, 
 chance came to their rescue. With the sound 
 of rusty springs and rattling windows, an old 
 coach passed the stylish turn-out in which they 
 were driving in the direction of Evreux. 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 36 1 
 
 Dr. Evans ordered his carriage to stop, and 
 alighted hurriedly to bargain with the hackney- 
 man for this conveyance, in which, as he said, 
 he wished to take his family as far as Trouville. 
 Arrangements made, he helped the Empress 
 and Mme. de Lebreton out of one vehicle and 
 into the other. They then resumed their 
 journey, while the compromising carriage re- 
 turned to Paris. 
 
 An unforeseen difficulty, however, arose to 
 disquiet the Empress. The horses which they 
 had hired were miserable beasts and unfit for a 
 long journey, so that on the following morning 
 they came to a standstill in a little village, and 
 showed themselves incapable of farther ser- 
 vice ; it, therefore, became necessary to replace 
 them. 
 
 The travellers drew rein at a miserable inn 
 which lay on their route, and which seemed to 
 be propped up against a kind of barn. The 
 Empress and Mme. de Lebreton passed into a 
 strange little room on the first floor ; and, while 
 the doctor went out in search of a new relay, 
 the driver, a glum and silent peasant, gave him- 
 self up to eating. 
 
 Ill-luck seemed to pursue the fugitives. The 
 sky, so beautiful on the day before, was now 
 dark, and the clouds thick and menacing. A 
 
362 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 storm broke, and torrents of rain fell, inun- 
 dating the roads. 
 
 The Empress in her impatience could not re- 
 main still. She paced the inn up and down, 
 and finally went out-doors to watch for the 
 return of the doctor. The rain did not cease ; 
 and she stood under the shelter of the immense 
 doorway of the barn, holding but a tiny um- 
 brella over her head and concealing her face 
 uneasily behind it. 
 
 Dr. Evans at last appeared, having persuaded 
 one of the villagers to rent him two horses ; 
 and thus equipped, they no longer lingered 
 where they were, but hastened on. 
 
 Everything went well, or nearly so, till they 
 reached Evreux. Dr. Evans was anxious to 
 avoid this village ; but as to do so would have 
 involved the loss of much time, they decided 
 to pass through it. This decision was unfortu- 
 nate for the Empress. 
 
 They had traversed several streets without 
 disturbance, when they came out on a square 
 where people had assembled in evident excite- 
 ment. Mounted police were there to keep 
 order, and bands of armed men were drawn up 
 in line as though for drill, while the notes of 
 drum and clarion mingled with the sound of 
 marching soldiers. 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 363 
 
 The carriage in which were the Empress and 
 her friends had advanced too far for it to turn 
 back or escape from the curiosity of the people. 
 As soon as it was noticed, a rabble rushed 
 toward it ; and the Empress now for a third 
 time recognised and discovered in a flight 
 likely to prove successful, Dr. Evans was obliged 
 to face the danger squarely. 
 
 Resigned and ready for any emergency, he 
 dismounted from the coach, requesting that he 
 should be taken before the authorities, while 
 the crowd gathering round him encircled the 
 Empress. Cries of " Long live the Republic ! 
 Down with the Empire ! " rose on every side. 
 It was a critical moment, and one act of impru- 
 dence or one unfortunate word on the part of the 
 Empress, or on that of any excited person, would 
 have sufficed to give a tragic turn to the scene. 
 
 The Empress, however, remained silent, and 
 there was not one among the crowd who 
 thought of offering her an insult. 
 
 This condition of affairs could not, however, 
 last long; and Dr. Evans, in his anxiety, was 
 wondering how it would all end, when he no- 
 ticed a man who he thought must be an official. 
 
 He hastened toward him, and explained the 
 circumstances which had transpired. 
 
 This man proved, indeed, to be an official, 
 
364 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 and was, I think, the mayor of Evreux. He 
 showed himself to be, moreover, a gentleman, 
 and expressed profound sympathy for the Em- 
 press, who was thus miserably leaving France. 
 He approached the carriage, and, bowing low, 
 gave the order that these travellers should con- 
 tinue their journey without molestation. 
 
 The cries which had risen on the arrival 
 of the Empress had now ceased, and silence 
 reigned in the square. When the carriage 
 again began to move, it was not without 
 deep feeling that the occupants passed through 
 the motionless ranks of the people, who had 
 drawn up in two lines and who had become 
 voiceless. 
 
 From this point the Empress and her escort 
 continued their sad journey, comparatively free 
 from misfortunes. They had, however, one 
 startling experience. 
 
 One night, finding themselves, as well as their 
 horses, exhausted with fatigue, they drew rein 
 in a village through which they passed a little 
 this side of Trouville, and knocked at the door 
 of a hut whose appearance was certainly not 
 propitiating. 
 
 After much parleying, carried on through 
 closed window-shutters, an old peasant woman 
 opened the door, and still distrustful, despite 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 365 
 
 the promises of munificent recompense offered 
 her by Dr. Evans, she refused to grant them 
 admittance till she had made a minute exami- 
 nation. A lantern held in the tips of her long, 
 thin fingers, she inspected in turn the face of 
 the doctor, that of the Empress, and of Mme. 
 Lebreton. The driver himself did not escape 
 her observation, and it was only at his injunc- 
 tion that she finally opened her door. 
 
 " Come, come, mother," he said, " you will 
 be paid, and these are good people." 
 
 While upon the road the Empress, so it 
 is said, found herself much inconvenienced by 
 a severe catarrhal cold ; and as in her haste 
 at leaving the Tuileries she had failed to 
 bring a supply of handkerchiefs, the doctor 
 busied himself with drying by the door of 
 the carriage, as fast as she used them, those 
 two or three handkerchiefs which she had 
 brought. 
 
 The embarkation of the Empress at Trouville 
 had in it nothing of special interest. It is 
 known that Dr. Evans secured a little pleasure- 
 boat, in which he brought the unhappy woman 
 over a tempestuous sea to Hastings. 
 
 To whatever party one may belong, whatever 
 scepticism one may profess, it is impossible to 
 
366 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 feel no emotion in the thought of the fall of the 
 Empress Eugenie, and of that Calvary through 
 which I have traced her steps. 
 
 She passed away in an hour of passion and 
 of moral suffering — in one of those hours which 
 in history determine the evolution of nations, 
 and the ephemeral grandeur of kings. 
 
 She is not alone in her fall ; she is not alone 
 among the women who, having reigned, now 
 weep for their power and their pride. The 
 ground beneath her is strewn with smiles and 
 with crowns which have abandoned those who 
 once, all radiant with joy, believed themselves 
 to be invulnerable and exempt from the laws of 
 fatality. 
 
 In the evening of this century their image 
 finds reflection, and the mystery of those mel- 
 ancholy nights when they fell from the stars is 
 re-born. The sun sheds its last glory, its red 
 apotheosis, on the world; the sky has grown 
 dusky, and twilight has come. Queens fall 
 through the darkness, but as faint stars now. 
 They pass swathed in black, their heads still 
 shining, as though their diadems had kindled 
 an ineffaceable glory on the brows which may 
 no longer wear them, and their hair sown with 
 sparks of fire. They pass like stars, yet more 
 like phantoms, and before this funereal proces- 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 367 
 
 sion of souls and bodies, which the people blessed 
 and cursed in the same breath, one watches and 
 wonders what poets shall arise to sing these 
 epics, these romances, thes^ glories and trage- 
 dies. 
 
 Queens fall, as of old the virgins fell in the 
 circus, and the people, seeing them prostrate on 
 the ground, throw their stones ; yet this is the 
 same people which once kissed their skirts and 
 their feet. Wandering and phantom queens 
 are these, who seem condemned to eternal pil- 
 grimage. The love and the reverence of the 
 crowd are no longer theirs. Circling through 
 the whirlwind by which they are swept, they 
 sing the song which is sung by little girls as 
 they clasp hands and play their games : — " We 
 dance no longer in the wood ; the laurels all are 
 cut." 
 
 The public is familiar with the r61e played by 
 Countess de Mercy- Argent eau at the time of 
 the Emperor's captivity at Wilhelmshohe, when 
 the Empress had taken refuge in England, in 
 carrying out the mission which Napoleon III. 
 charged her to execute with the king of Prussia, 
 hoping that conditions of peace less severe for 
 France might thus be brought about. It is 
 
 also known that it was Comtesse X , who, 
 
 stopping at the time at the H6tel de Flandre in 
 
368 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Brussels, directed negotiations for the restora- 
 tion of the Empire. 
 
 Women had, during this time, considerable 
 influence in the development of affairs ; and the 
 days which followed the fall of the imperial 
 dynasty are remarkable for the spirit of intrigue 
 with which they imbued them, and by the un- 
 deniably intelligent aid given by them to the 
 statesmen who were concerned in solving the 
 problems of the delicate and embarrassing situ- 
 ation which had resulted from the war. 
 
 One of these women, Mme. de V — ■ — , sister of 
 Mmes. de la Moskowa and de la Poeze, women 
 belonging to the court of Empress Eugenie, 
 found herself involved, like Mmes. de Mercy- 
 Argenteau and X , in the affairs which fol- 
 lowed the cessation of hostilities ; and as her 
 attitude at this time was most noble and patri- 
 otic, the public will be glad to have it recalled 
 to mind. The story is most touching, and 
 seems, indeed, like pure romance, or even like 
 a fairy tale. 
 
 To begin, therefore, there was once upon a 
 time at the Court of Prussia, a minister from 
 France, Marquis de la Rochelambert, who had 
 three daughters, one of whom, exceedingly 
 beautiful and intelligent, was the godchild of 
 the Prince Royal, afterwards Emperor Wflliam. 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 369 
 
 There was at this court a nobleman of high 
 birth, a dashing cavalier and man of wit, who 
 fell in love with the lovely child and sought her 
 hand in marriage. Family ties and bonds of 
 friendship united the Marquis de la Rochelam- 
 bert to the court of Prussia ; but having con- 
 sulted his daughter, and assured himself that 
 she had no attachment for this nobleman, he 
 rejected his proposals. 
 
 The suitor was Count von Arnim, who at 
 that time was in all the splendour of his youth, 
 at the very height of power, and occupying an 
 exceptional position. 
 
 The Marquis de la Rochelambert returned to 
 France. His daughter did not see again the 
 unhappy aspirant ; and, as far as appearances 
 are concerned, they forgot each other. Did 
 they, indeed, truly do so — or rather, did the 
 Count von Arnim forget his vain dream ? If 
 we may believe the word of the slanderer, he 
 remained always faithful to that which he had 
 once desired ; and in the very bosom of his 
 family — for he married and himself had a 
 charming daughter — he still dreamed of the 
 former object of his love. 
 
 Mile, de la Rochelambert became a wife and 
 then a mother ; and it is probable that the years 
 would never have brought her and her old lover 
 
370 N/lPOLEOhl III. 
 
 together, had not the dramatic events of 1870 
 and 1 87 1 arisen, bringing misfortune to the 
 two. 
 
 When the National Assembly nominated M. 
 Thiers as head of the executive power, and in- 
 vested him with a mission to discuss the treaty 
 which was to put an end to the hostilities be- 
 tween France and Prussia, this shrewd states- 
 man surrounded himself with a few of his 
 ancient colleagues who during the Empire had 
 been members of the Legislative Corps, and 
 created of these ministers for himself, among 
 whom was M. Pouyer-Quertier, to whom he 
 gave the direction and the reorganisation of 
 the department of finance. 
 
 Before facing Count von Arnim, M. Pouyer- 
 Quertier was called on to recognise Prince 
 Bismarck. The Norman and the Teuton con- 
 fronted each other ; the fox and the dog ex- 
 changed courtesies. 
 
 The story by which it is sought to prove that 
 Prince Bismarck tried to intoxicate M. Pouyer- 
 Quertier at a dinner where they were in tete-a- 
 tite, is too well known to call for repetition 
 here. I am, however, familiar with another an- 
 ecdote which has not been made public, and 
 which the reader will doubtless be glad to 
 learn. Before, therefore, continuing and bring- 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 37 1 
 
 ing to its close the romance which I have be- 
 gun, I relate this circumstance. 
 
 By a singular coincidence, and one most 
 favourable to him in the position which he now 
 occupied, M. Pouyer-Quertier found that he 
 was bound by ancient ties to the family of the 
 Rochelamberts, and consequently to the daugh- 
 ter of the ex-minister of France to Berlin, who 
 since the abortive idyll to which we have re- 
 ferred, had become Comtesse de V . This 
 
 friendship rendered easier day by day his rela- 
 tions with the heads of the German government. 
 
 One of his daughters, moreover, had married 
 the Comte de Lambertye, who had large posses- 
 sions in Alsace, in the outskirts of Belfort. 
 This fact assumed some importance when it 
 became necessary to determine with Prince 
 Bismarck the boundaries of the new frontiers. 
 
 Bismarck was determined to take possession, 
 if not of Belfort itself, at least of parts of the 
 territory which surround it. After having op- 
 posed his pretensions, M. Pouyer-Quertier, de- 
 spairing to move the Chancellor, saw with cha- 
 grin a moment come when he was forced to 
 own himself vanquished. At the final moment, 
 however, he received a sudden inspiration. 
 
 Dipping his pen in the ink with which he 
 was to sign his name to the fatal treaty, he 
 
372 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 still hesitated a moment and paused to reflect. 
 He then threw his pen vehemently on the 
 table and turned to Prince Bismarck. 
 
 " Let him who will," he- said resolutely, " sign 
 this treaty, Prince ; it shall not be I who do 
 so." 
 
 Bismarck made a gesture of surprise and 
 displeasure. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " he asked. " You 
 were ready to ratify my conditions." 
 
 " It is true," replied the Norman. " I did 
 not, however, dream that in accepting these 
 conditions I should deliver over to you not 
 only some of my countrymen, but among these 
 persons who are especially near and dear to me." 
 
 " Explain yourself." 
 
 " I shall find it easy to do so. My son-in- 
 law, Count de Lambertye, owns almost the 
 whole of those territories which surround Bel- 
 fort (our ambassador sacrificed truth somewhat 
 for the sake of his cause), and my name shall 
 never stand at the foot of a document which 
 will rob him of his nationality, and place me in 
 the relation of a foreigner to him. 
 
 "Forgive my sentiments," he added, as he 
 rose, " which are no longer those of a French- 
 man purely, but also those of a father. I will 
 report to my government the delay brought 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 373 
 
 about in our negotiations, and will ask it to 
 accredit you a man unhampered by personal 
 feelings, and who will thus be able with greater 
 freedom to submit himself to your conditions." 
 
 In praise of M. Pouyer-Quertier, we may 
 state that Prince Bismarck had a great admira- 
 tion and liking for our plenipotentiary, and was 
 attracted by his easy and unconventional ways. 
 
 Without replying to the words which were 
 addressed him, he rose and paced the room. 
 He then suddenly paused before his interlocu- 
 tor, and looked him well in the eye. 
 
 " You do not wish, my dear minister," he 
 said, " that your son-in-law and your grandchil- 
 dren should be Prussians. That is certainly a 
 natural feeling. Where are the lands of Count 
 de Lambertye ? Show me their approximate 
 position." 
 
 Seizing a map which was used by the staff, 
 he unfolded it before the minister, who, as he 
 has since avowed, could scarcely believe what 
 he saw. He did not, however, allow himself to 
 become agitated, and taking up a red pencil, he 
 traced out boundaries as extensive as he dared 
 of territories partly real, partly imaginary, which 
 he said that his son-in-law possessed round 
 Belfort. He then showed the map to the 
 Prince. 
 
374 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 Bismarck examined it slowly and carefully, 
 too much so, indeed, for the equanimity of his 
 adversary. Placing it on the table, he then took 
 up the document in which were set forth the 
 conditions of the treaty, and there inserted the 
 special clause which left to France Belfort and 
 its territory, and remitted to M. Pouyer-Quer- 
 tier the act thus modified. 
 
 "There," he said, in tones half serious and 
 half mocking, "there, are you satisfied?" 
 
 The emotion felt by our ambassador was pro- 
 found. The tract which he had retained for 
 France against the exactions of our enemies, 
 was, it is true, small ; but it seemed to him at 
 this moment immense, and in itself a great em- 
 pire. Objects acquire in the minds, and espe- 
 cially in the hearts, of men the proportions of 
 those sentiments, be they of joy or sorrow, 
 which attach to them. 
 
 This anecdote has been supplied me by M. 
 Pouyer-Quertier himself. It will, I am sure, be 
 of interest to those who read these pages on 
 the frontiers which were then under discussion, 
 and who will learn from it of the circumstance 
 by which they escaped being Germans. 
 
 I will now return to my romance. 
 
 When Mme. de V learned that M. Pou- 
 yer-Quertier was appointed to arrange for the 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 375 
 
 payment of the indemnity of war due to the 
 Germans, in concert with Count von Arnim, 
 nominated as representative of Emperor Wil- 
 liam in France, she sought an interview with 
 the old friend of her family. 
 
 " Count von Arnim," she said, " is to all ap- 
 pearances gentle and courteous in the extreme ; 
 but he is exceedingly obstinate and austere. 
 Whatever may be said to the contrary, he is im- 
 bued with hatred of France, and will be implac- 
 able in the mission which he has accepted. 
 You know that through my former relations 
 with the court of Prussia, I am somewhat fa- 
 miliar with men and affairs beyond the Rhine. 
 I know M. von Arnim by heart. Do you want 
 me to bring him to an agreement with you ? 
 Do you want me to serve you at the same time 
 that I serve the interests of my country ? If 
 so, give me free use of my own methods. 
 Count von Arnim at one time wished to marry 
 me ; and though it is many years since we have 
 met, I know that he has not forgotten me. 
 Shall I see him ? I am sure that such a meet- 
 ing will result in circumstances which will favour 
 and facilitate your task." 
 
 M. Pouyer-Quertier knew Mme. de V so 
 
 well that he felt assured she was not speaking 
 without wisdom and forethought. 
 
376 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 "Where," he asked, "could you, or would 
 you, see Count von Arnim ? " 
 
 " Here." 
 
 " Here, at the ministry ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "That is impossible." 
 
 " It would become possible were you to au- 
 thorise the interview." 
 
 " In what way do you plan to conciliate 
 him ? " 
 
 "That is my secret till the new order is 
 established." 
 
 " Your secret ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but a secret which everybody knows, 
 and which you will doubtless divine. It will 
 result in one of two things : either, as I have 
 been told, M. von Arnim has not forgotten me, 
 in which case I will use my power over him ; or 
 else he has forgotten me, and all my diplomacy 
 will fail before his firm purpose. In what way, 
 however, do you risk, under either circumstance, 
 the success of your negotiations or the good 
 of the country, by introducing me to his 
 presence ? " 
 
 " Let it be so," replied M. Pouyer-Quertier, 
 himself coaxed and persuaded by this woman, 
 who spoke with so much authority, with so just 
 an appreciation of political and personal affairs ; 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. S77 
 
 " do as you think best. Count von Arnim is 
 expected here to-morrow at about two o'clock. 
 Be at the ministry, as though by chance, at the 
 same hour yourself. I will put everything in 
 your hands." 
 
 The next day, a little before the hour ap- 
 pointed, Mme. de V arrived at the minis- 
 try ; and, after a hurried interview with M. 
 Pouyer-Quertier, she took her place in the ves- 
 tibule of the building where is the staircase 
 leading to the official cabinet. 
 
 M. von Arnim soon presented himself ; and 
 when the Countess saw him alight from his 
 carriage and come toward the vestibule, she 
 placed herself erect on the first step of the 
 staircase, as though, having had an audience, 
 she was about to pass out. She was, therefore, 
 the first person on whom the eyes of this diplo- 
 mat fell. 
 
 Mme. de V , though no longer young, 
 
 had retained the features of her youth, and was 
 still very beautiful, and consequently easily rec- 
 ognised as the woman whom he had known in 
 the full glory of her girlhood. 
 
 At her apparition, Count von Arnim paused 
 and took a step backward. 
 
 " I am lost," he muttered, as though divin- 
 ing the cause which had placed this woman be- 
 
378 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 fore him at the decisive moment. " I am 
 lost." 
 
 These are the actual words which he spoke. 
 
 Agitated and filled with emotion, which he 
 took little pains to conceal, he came toward 
 her and clasped both her hands in his. 
 
 Count von Arnim had indeed spoken truly 
 
 when he said that he was lost. Mme. de V 
 
 took him with her and went up a few steps ; 
 then seating herself on the staircase, and making 
 him sit by her side, she spoke to him rapidly 
 and earnestly in German. 
 
 What did she say ? We can divine the bur- 
 den of her words. M. von Arnim listened with 
 out speaking, his head bowed, his hand still in 
 hers. 
 
 " I will obey you," he said with a great effort, 
 as she ceased ; and then he repeated the words, 
 " I will obey you." 
 
 Mme. de V rose and released him. 
 
 " Remember your promise," she said, as she 
 left him ; " the minister is waiting for you. 
 You will become a German again when you are 
 with him, too much of a German. I, however, 
 shall be in a little room opening from his office, 
 and shall hear your conversation. If I find 
 that you are playing me false, I shall enter and 
 remind you of your pledge." 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 379 
 
 She did, indeed, just as she said. During 
 the interview which took place between M. 
 Pouyer-Quertier and M. von Arnim concerning 
 the liberation of territory and the conditions 
 relative to the payment of the war indemnities, 
 she remained in a little room opening from the 
 ministerial cabinet ; and when the discussion be- 
 tween the two seemed to take an unfavourable 
 turn, she shook the door which she had previ- 
 ously opened part way, and thus imposed on the 
 ambassador the moderation which she had ex- 
 acted from him. 
 
 Count von Arnim accorded us conditions less 
 severe than he had been instructed to do by 
 Prince Bismarck. A love-story written in the 
 past procured for us comparatively easy condi- 
 tions ; and the Chancellor, greatly displeased, re- 
 proached him severely for the concessions which 
 he granted us. Did he ever learn the romance 
 of his ambassador and its unforeseen epilogue ? 
 However this may be, he did not pardon his 
 delegate for having failed to execute his orders, 
 for having placed his sentiments in positive op- 
 position to his rigorous and austere resolutions. 
 
 Mme. de V retained after this hour feel- 
 ings of tender gratitude to the man who had 
 not only remembered her through all the years, 
 but who also 1 blended with his personal affection 
 
380 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 a voluntary and unconscious compassion for our 
 country. When Count von Arnim fell under 
 the hatred of his former captain, she mourned 
 him compassionately. 
 
 Does not history offer strange truths, and is 
 it not worthy to be told ? 
 
 This book has conjured up many beings, 
 many events, whose existence was in the past. 
 The Emperor Napoleon III. is dead, his son 
 has joined him tragically in the tomb ; and of 
 the brilliant society which scattered joy and 
 folly through the reign, there are now but a 
 few waifs left. 
 
 Did the Emperor, living in exile, have sincere 
 faith in a restoration of his dynasty in France ? 
 He, indeed, did all that could be done to make 
 such a restoration possible, that his son, whom 
 he loved and cherished, might rehabilitate him 
 before the people ; yet it would be too bold to 
 affirm that he felt any real assurance that his 
 name would acquire the glory of another tri- 
 umph. The Emperor remained during his reign 
 a silent spirit ; and when he took up his abode 
 on English soil he remained that which he had 
 always been, and none knew how to read the 
 thoughts which were in his heart. 
 
 Before his sun set, he saw many legends fade 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 38 1 
 
 and pass away with his own. He saw the in- 
 difference and the scepticism of the people deal 
 their blow against kings. If we may be al- 
 lowed to ascribe to him a philosophy consistent 
 with the dream which filled his whole life, with 
 his humanitarian ideal, we may perhaps venture 
 to state that his own effacement and that of his 
 race caused him but little sorrow when viewed 
 as an expression of that spirit of social equality 
 which should rule in the generations to come. 
 
 The reign of Napoleon. III. was full of bitter 
 disappointment ; but, as I have shown the pub- 
 lic, there was in it also much that was great 
 and good. 
 
 Despite the origin of his sovereignty, despite 
 the Second of December, despite, too, the follies 
 of his court and the bloody hecatombs of 1870, 
 the Emperor Napoleon III. was never hated by 
 the people ; and in the calm with which to-day 
 we look on his memory, the feeling of affection 
 concentrated to him in the past is reborn and 
 finds its way to the mausoleum where he re- 
 poses. 
 
 The ultimate justice of the world is far more 
 than a vain theory. Mankind preserves this jus- 
 tice in its love of truth and in its tenderness of 
 heart ; and when anger and bitterness are ap- 
 peased, those who have been most iniquitously 
 
382 NAPOLEON III. 
 
 condemned turn to humanity for refuge and 
 atonement. 
 
 The people, exalted by a moment of patriotic 
 sorrow, cast their anathema on the Emperor 
 Napoleon III. As the years have passed, how- 
 ever, and as the strength of the people has been 
 restored, they have had time to think ; and the 
 man whom they cursed at a moment when he 
 was represented to them in the light of a 
 monster indifferent to their sufferings, calls 
 forth in his sorrow their affection and their 
 pity. He has at last appeared to them as he 
 truly was, kind, eager to aid whom he could, 
 saddened by the hard conditions of life among 
 the masses, and filled with a constant desire to 
 ameliorate their lot ; and, in his benignity as a 
 sovereign, they have learned to see the reflection 
 of his native generosity of heart. 
 
 Hatred and anger are never disarmed before 
 the memory of a man like Napoleon I., whose 
 awe-inspiring and egoistical genius was un- 
 moved by the consciousness of human suffering. 
 
 Hatred and anger, however, cannot hold their 
 place eternally before the memory of a man like 
 Napoleon III., always so gentle and compassion- 
 ate to the humble ; and history cannot record 
 such sentiments, even where they would seem 
 in a measure justified by his failures and his 
 
THE CLOSE OF A REIGN. 383 
 
 errors, as the changeless expression of a popular 
 verdict. 
 
 There were troublous days in the reign of 
 Napoleon III. ; but does not the hour in which 
 this book is offered to the public imbue it with 
 a realness and vitality, both political and phil- 
 osophical, for the period, too, in which we are 
 living is one of terror and disturbance ? 
 
 Let us admit that there were, in the eighteen 
 years of the reign of Napoleon III., unwhole- 
 some joys, errors and deceit, shame and crime. 
 The Emperor, however, was a stranger to these 
 things ; the Emperor remained unassailable be- 
 fore them all, a sad dreamer and a sacrifice to 
 the follies of the world. The inconsistencies 
 and the faults of those whom he favoured, and 
 who turned to their own profit his infinite kind- 
 ness, should not reflect on his name. His mem- 
 ory rises above insult and condemnation, as, in 
 the present hour, the Republic rises above the 
 ruin of a past, above the afflictions of those who, 
 born of it, yet have given it no hearty love. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
■■•• ... - 
 
 HiP^ 
 
 ■ ; pKI 
 
 
 ^llllll|- ;