November 7, 1869.
Madame,
It is with pleasure that I announce to you that yesterday I signed the Decree which gives to your husband the rights of naturalization. I congratulate myself upon having one Frenchman and one Frenchwoman more.
Believe, madame, in my affectionate and devoted sentiments.
Napoléon.
Written at Wilhelmshöhe.
Wilhelmshöhe,
February 4, 1871.
Madame la Comtesse,
The attachment to me of which you give evidence touches me deeply, and causes me to answer the questions which you have put to me with all the frankness inspired by your high-minded sentiments.
The state of France is deplorable, and I do not see how it can be improved unless the Emperor of Germany displays that chivalrous mind which everybody knows him to possess. To-day we are completely vanquished; the interests of Germany, however, are mingled with ours. To re-establish order, to suppress the revolutionary spirit, to re-create the prosperity which alone can enable us to pay the cost of the war and assure peace—these are the results which must be desired in both countries.
Unfortunately, the convocation of the National Assembly makes all that very difficult, for that Assembly, if it makes peace, will be incapable of establishing a Government which can execute the conditions, and if it does not do so the country will be a prey to new convulsions.
If I were in the place of the Emperor and King, and the Assembly had accepted peace, I would demand that the people should be consulted for establishing a Government sufficiently strong to fulfil the engagements entered into. If, on the contrary, the Assembly refused to make peace, I would enter Paris at the head of my army; I would scatter the demagogues who have usurped power; I would decline to treat with any but the legitimate Government; I would propose to that Government a less onerous peace than that offered to the Assembly, and an alliance based upon an equitable appreciation of the interests of both countries.
It remains to consider what would be the conditions of such a peace and such an alliance. They are not easy to divine; but if the two were in accord, doubtless a favourable solution would be arrived at, for there are compensations when one is, like the King of Prussia, the arbiter of Europe.
All these ideas have, I believe, been put before Comte de Bismarck, and his high-mindedness has led him to grasp them; but events often upset plans, and force even great statesmen to bend under the yoke of stern necessity. No glory is lacking the Emperor and King but that of making a great peace. I mean a peace which, instead of leaving in its wake ruin, despair, and anarchy, would display the greatness of his character and the depth of his political views.
You see, madame, that I have permitted myself to tell you all my thoughts. I hope you will forgive me for this long letter, but you know how much pleasure it affords me to talk to you.
Pray say everything good on my part to your husband, and believe in the sentiments of high esteem and sincere and affectionate friendship which I have for you.
Napoléon.
Napoleon III. sends a Letter to the Emperor William I. by the Comtesse.
Wilhelmshöhe,
February 6, 1871.
Madame,
The charming letter which you have written to me emboldens me to tell you that I think you may perhaps be able to do me a great service; but I hardly dare express here all that I think. It is a question, like the dove, of carrying a message of peace.
Napoléon.
After the receipt of this letter the Comtesse de Mercy-Argenteau journeyed to Wilhelmshöhe, where the illustrious captive gave her verbal instructions and a letter addressed to the Emperor William. She crossed the German lines under an assumed name, accompanied only by her maid, saw Count Bismarck, through him obtained an audience of the Kaiser, and handed to the Kaiser Napoleon’s autograph letter. These proceedings were barren of result. Napoleon III. then sent the Comtesse the following letter:
“My Gratitude is Very Sincere.”
Wilhelmshöhe,
February 23, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
I learn with great pleasure of your arrival, and I am happy to think that your little daughter is quite well again. Need I tell you of the sweet remembrances and regrets that your visit has left? I really do not know how to recognize such loyal and disinterested devotion as yours; but you know at least that my gratitude is very sincere. I await impatiently news from the quarter to which you have been. I often fear lest people should accept that which is put before them without thinking of the future. The eagerness with which the neutrals have recognized the sovereignty of M. Thiers is a proof of the little dignity which animates the foreign Courts.
Accept, madame, the new assurance of my sincere and affectionate friendship.
Napoléon.
“Writing to Bismarck Useless.”
Wilhelmshöhe,
February 25, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
I send you the line that you wanted. It is a pale reflex of my sentiments towards you. It is very good of you to think of writing to M. de B—— [Bismarck], but I believe it would be useless. In the first place, I have asked M. de F—— to do so, and he has left; then, again, it is too late now to enable me to profit by it. Things have taken a bad turn for me. We must put up with the d’Orléans, who have numerous partisans amongst the middle classes; and then I cannot be pardoned for having been served so badly and so unfortunately.
Accept, dear Comtesse, etc.
Napoléon.
“I admit we were the Aggressors.”
Wilhelmshöhe,
March 2, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
How can one fail to be discouraged in presence of the conditions of peace imposed upon France? I admit that we were the aggressors; I admit that we were defeated, and that, therefore, we were compelled to pay the cost of the war or abandon part of our territory; but to condemn us to make both sacrifices is very hard. Where is the Government which will be able to stand with a material and moral burden like that upon its shoulders? With such conditions it is not a peace which the Emperor of Germany has concluded—it is to kill us; instead of re-establishing peace, it will sow hatred and distrust in the future. Is this a good plan, even for Germany? I do not think so. The state of civilization in which Europe finds itself demands that the nations bind themselves together by a crowd of common interests which would make the ruin of one react upon all the others.
The work of France stopped for several years, thirty-eight millions of people delivered up to anarchy, and having in their hearts only a desire for vengeance—this is to keep a wound open in one of the principal members of the social body. If the Emperor of Germany and M. de Bismarck had thoroughly reflected upon the state of Europe; if, instead of allowing themselves to be dazzled by the extraordinary success which they have obtained, they had desired to put an end to revolutions and to war, they had declared that as long as France had no stable, and consequently liberal, Government, they would only sanction a suspension of hostilities in the nature of a truce, and would take steps to put themselves in a more favourable military position in case the struggle should recommence, but as soon as there was a Government based upon law and accepted by the whole nation they would feel more certain of peace in the future than they could be by holding dissatisfied departments, detached from a nation profoundly ... that would have been de la grande politique; the hatred against Germany would have disappeared as though by magic, peace would have been assured for many years, there would have been renewed confidence, there would have been a revival of commercial affairs, and the Emperor of Germany would have obtained a glory far greater than he will acquire by the possession of Metz and Strasburg.
I am writing to you as if you were my Minister for Foreign Affairs; but I find it a consolation, in the midst of the preoccupations which beset me, to open my heart to you.
Accept, etc.
Napoléon.
Bismarck’s Brusque Telegram to the Emperor’s Intermediary.
Two short letters of no particular importance follow, and then comes this very brusque telegram from Bismarck to the Comtesse, dated Berlin, March 27, 1871:
To the Comtesse de Mercy-Argenteau, Château of Ochain, near Terwagne, Belgium.
Your allusions to the conditions of peace surprise me, and prevent me from replying to your letter. It is absolutely impossible.
V. Bismarck.
Letters written at Chislehurst.
“The Future is Very Dark.”
That telegram probably led to the Emperor writing to the Comtesse as follows, a few days after his arrival in England from Wilhelmshöhe:
Chislehurst,
April 1, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
I thank you for all that you have written and done. No one could have acted with more intelligence and heart. Unfortunately, we are dealing with pitiless people. We must wait for the second answer, but I do not think it will be better than the first. I believe it would be completely useless to take any kind of step respecting Marshal M. [MacMahon] or others. The time has not yet come for taking any initiative whatsoever as regards internal affairs. I thank you, nevertheless, for the intention. The future is very dark, and one must leave Providence to guide the will of men. I am very grateful for your unfailing devotion, and I again assure you of my affectionate friendship.
Napoléon.
“I have not Forgotten You.”
There is a silence of nearly three months. The Emperor was very ill, and unable to write to the Comtesse between April and June. In the subjoined letter he explains why he had not written:
Camden Place,
June 14, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
What a long time it is since I wrote to you! Perhaps you think I have forgotten you, but it is not so. I have been suffering so long that it was impossible for me to write. To-day I am, happily, well again. I will not speak of what has happened since we met. Many of the plans have come to naught; but I do not regret it. Each thing must come at its own time, and the favourable movement which has been spontaneously produced in France ought to make us hopeful for the future, even if it is hopeless to charge oneself with the destinies of so frivolous a people as the French.
Accept, my dear Comtesse, the assurance of my affectionate friendship.
Napoléon.
The Trap laid for the Comtesse.
Chislehurst,
December 9, 1871.
My Dear Comtesse,
Your amiable letter makes me look at the coming year in brighter colours. I have happily convinced myself that your long silence was the result of chance, and was not caused by forgetfulness. I am indignant at what you tell me about the trap which was laid for you at Brussels. It is sad to see the police have recourse to such devices. I am much touched by the offers of service made by you, but for the moment one can only await events, and endeavour by propaganda to obtain a plébiscite and better election results.
Accept, etc.
Napoléon.
The Emperor’s Final Letters: “Clouds cover the Horizon.”
On May 5, 1872, the Emperor wrote thanking the Comtesse for sending news. His Majesty added:
I will not speak to you about politics, for it is sad to see what is happening; but there are instances of devotion which make one forget the ingratitude of some and the wickedness of others.
Under date June 2, 1872, the Emperor wrote to his fair correspondent condoling with her upon the death of a relative. The last letter is dated September 9, 1872, just four months prior to the Emperor’s death. He again expresses his sympathy at her bereavement, and concludes:
The future appears to me very uncertain. Clouds cover the horizon, and one can hardly perceive the blue sky.
From the Emperor’s Secretary (M. Pietri) to the Comtesse.
Camden Place,
Chislehurst,
June 16, 1871.
Madame la Comtesse,
I have just received the reply to the telegram which I had the honour to address to you at Liége, and I hasten to forward the letter that the Emperor has directed me to send to you, as to which I congratulate myself upon not having put an incorrect address.
The Emperor is to-day entirely recovered. He has resumed his occupations and his usual life. He has been cruelly pained by all the evils which overwhelm our unfortunate country, and of which we cannot yet see the end.
We have before our eyes only the material ruins of Paris. They have turned our looks away from the ruins of all France, and from the appalling situation which must result from the surrender of Alsace and Lorraine and the occupation of Metz by the Prussians.
At Versailles they accuse us of conspiracy. They are wrong, and they must know well that it is the contrary. We have only one way of usefully conspiring—that is, to wait; for time will conspire for us, and will help Truth to come out of the well in which they have kept her enclosed, while those standing upon the lid preach error and lies. They will get tired, and then she [Truth] will appear. Already she begins to see daylight. It is upon her that we must count, in not adding to the evils of the country intrigues which could only aggravate them. We must content ourselves with following what is done at Versailles.
Accept, Madame la Comtesse, etc.
F. Pietri.
Besides the epistles addressed by Napoleon III. to the late Comtesse de Mercy-Argenteau, many interesting letters from the imperial pen are scattered about in the vivid pages of Comte d’Hérisson, M. Pierre de Lano, and other French authors. Those now for the first time translated for this work from Comte d’Hérisson’s “Le Prince Impérial” and M. Pierre de Lano’s “L’Impératrice” will be fresh to English readers, who will obtain from their perusal a better insight into the character of Napoleon III. than they previously possessed.
Napoleon III. and the Press.
For the first few days after his arrival, early in September, at Wilhelmshöhe, where he remained until the following March, the fallen Emperor seemed to be resigned to his fate. In reply to one of his friends, who had written to him asking to be informed of his plans, the Emperor wrote:
Wilhelmshöhe,
September 28, 1870.
I thank you for your letter, which has given me great pleasure. The sentiments which you express do not surprise me, for I have always reckoned on your friendship. In the actual state of affairs I believe there is nothing to be done unless it be to correct, through the Press, erroneous statements, and to act as much as possible upon public opinion. Conti,[109] whom perhaps you have seen at Brussels (his address is 2, Place du Trône), is very useful to me in this respect. May God grant that the siege of Paris be soon finished, for I dread all kinds of excesses in the country!
Napoléon.
Against the advice of many staunch friends of the Emperor, in November, 1870, it was determined to make an attempt to replace Napoleon III. on the throne, and that the movement should be directed by the Emperor and Empress. The Imperialists regarded the co-operation of General Changarnier as indispensable, and the Emperor (and, later, the Empress) worked to this end. General Fleury, furnished with private instructions by the Emperor himself, went to Brussels and had an interview with Changarnier, who, after much wavering, finally declined to take part in the restoration plot. The Emperor put himself directly en rapport with Changarnier by writing to General Fleury the subjoined letter, which shows the ignorance in which Napoleon III. was kept respecting the events of the day:
Napoleon III., General Changarnier, and “L’Indépendance Belge.”
Wilhelmshöhe,
November 16, 1870.
... At Brussels you will see more people and become acquainted with many things of which we here are ignorant. I should therefore much like you from time to time to send me your impressions of what you hear talked about, and what you hope or fear for the future. They tell me you often see our enemies. If it is to appease them, all the better; but I fear their evil influence. Already Bourbaki and Maréchal Canrobert have, I fear, been circumvented by them. If you see General Changarnier, get him to write a word to the papers in favour of Bazaine. I have already advised him to do so, but he replied that the editor of “l’Indépendance Belge” did not insert his letter. Upon Changarnier asking the reason of its non-appearance, he was told that they could not publish it except by accompanying it with some remarks very detrimental to Bazaine; whereupon Changarnier withdrew his letter. I am sorry for this, because Changarnier’s words would have made a great noise, whilst the attacks of the journalist would have passed unnoticed. Try to get Changarnier to change his mind.
Napoléon.
“Arrange an Interview with Changarnier.”
A few weeks later the Emperor wrote to Fleury on the same subject, but more pressingly, as follows:
W. [Wilhelmshöhe],
December 11, 1870.
This letter will be handed to you by M. Levert, formerly Préfet of Marseilles, a very devoted and very distinguished man. He should talk to you about the steps to take respecting General Changarnier to maintain him in my cause. I beg you to arrange that he may have an interview with the General.
Napoléon.
“Keep Changarnier well disposed.”
General Changarnier weakened daily in view of the solicitations of which he was the object at Brussels, and yet another letter to Fleury from the Emperor at Wilhelmshöhe showed how necessary for the success of their plans did the Bonapartist party regard the General’s intervention and adhesion:
[Wilhelmshöhe],
December 23, 1870.
I thank you for the good relations that you maintain with General Changarnier. It is necessary to keep him well disposed by telling him that, when the moment comes, I shall have recourse to his advice. According to what they tell me in letters, Claremont [British Military Attaché] said Paris cannot hold out more than three weeks. But what will happen then? The attitude of certain French officers in Germany is very bad; but they are “worked” by emissaries of several colours.
Napoléon.
“Everybody desires Peace.”
All endeavours to secure the active assistance of General Changarnier failed. On January 4, 1871, the Emperor wrote from Wilhelmshöhe:
Unfortunately, you are not better informed at Brussels than we are here respecting future events. One does not know what to believe owing to the diversity of the opinions on the subject of the probable resistance of Paris. Everybody desires peace, but nobody knows how it can be brought about.
Napoléon.
The Emperor to Sir John Burgoyne, “The English Moltke.”
Immediately after the fall of Metz, General Sir John M. Burgoyne, Bart., who had taken part in the Crimean campaign, and had brought the Empress to Ryde, wrote to Napoleon III. in sympathetic terms, and expressed his opinion of the causes which had led to the French reverses. The Emperor replied as under:
Wilhelmshöhe,
October 29, 1870.
My dear Sir John Burgoyne,
I have received your letter, which has given me the greatest pleasure, because it is a touching proof of your sympathy for me, and also because your name recalls to me the happy and glorious time when our two armies fought together for the same cause. You, who are the English Moltke, will have understood that our disasters arose from the circumstance that the Prussians were ready before us, and that, so to speak, they surprised us en flagrant délit of formation.
The offensive became impossible for me. I resolved to take the defensive, but, prevented by political considerations, the march in retreat was stopped, and then became impossible. Returned to Châlons, I wished to lead to Paris the last army which remained to us; but again political complications forced us to make that most imprudent and least strategical march which finished with the disaster at Sedan. Such, in a few words, was the disastrous campaign of 1870. I have given you these explanations because I value your esteem.
Napoléon.
The Emperor’s Letters to his Foster-Sister, Mme. Cornu.
“Let us hope for Happier Days.”
The five following letters appeared for the first time in “La Revue” (Paris) in October and December, 1908, and were contributed by M. Seymour de Ricci, who is in possession of 297 letters, hitherto unpublished, addressed by the Emperor to Mme. Cornu, who visited Chislehurst in 1871. The whole of this interesting correspondence will be published by M. de Ricci.
Wilhelmshöhe,
December 14, 1870.
My dear Madame Cornu,
You cannot doubt the pain which I have felt upon learning of the death of your husband. You know the great friendship which I had for him for so many years. I fully share all your emotions, and wish to know how you are getting on in the midst of the war which is surrounding you. I will not refer to my troubles; it is those of France which overwhelm me most.
The Empress and the Prince are well—this is a great consolation to me.
Let us hope for happier days, and believe always, my dear Hortense, in my sincere friendship.
Napoléon.
“I am engaged upon a Work which will explain Many Things.”
Chislehurst,
January 14, 1872.
My dear Madame Cornu,
It is always with pleasure that I hear from you, for the friendship which binds us is of such long standing that absence and misfortunes cannot weaken it.
I was very happy also to see you once more, and I hope you will return to us this summer. I see by your letter that you have not been to Italy, as you had proposed to do. Have you not been able to sell your property? We often have visitors from France, who are the echo of what is happening in our unhappy country.
I am engaged upon a work which will explain many things. It will not be amusing, but it will contain the truth.
Receive, my dear Madame Cornu, the assurance of my sincere friendship.
The Empress wrote you two letters from Spain. Did you get them? She sends a thousand amiable things to you, as does the Prince.
Napoléon.
“The Empress has been suffering.”
Chislehurst,
May 5, 1872.
My dear Madame Cornu,
I take advantage of a post to tell you that the Empress has been suffering very much, but that she has now recovered, and that the Prince and I are quite well.
I received your letter of the 30th [of April], but have only time to thank you for it in the Empress’s name, and to renew the assurance of my sincere friendship.
Napoléon.
“I am Responsible to the Country.”
Marshal Baraguay d’Hilliers presided over a Council of Inquiry appointed to investigate the circumstances in which fortresses capitulated and battalions surrendered to the invaders. It was decided that the whole blame for the disasters at Sedan rested with Napoleon III., “a culprit beyond reach of the national vengeance,” as he was residing at Chislehurst. The Exile defended himself in this letter, which he addressed to the Generals who had served under him at Sedan:
Camden Place,
Chislehurst,
May 12, 1872.
General,
I am responsible to the country, and I can accept no other judgment but that of the nation regularly consulted. Nor is it for me to pass an opinion on the report of the Commission on the capitulation of Sedan. I shall only remind the principal witnesses of the capitulation of the critical position in which we found ourselves. The army commanded by the Duc de Magenta nobly did its duty, and fought heroically against an enemy of twice its numbers. When driven back to the walls of the town, and into the town itself, 14,000 dead and wounded covered the field of battle, and I saw that to contest the position any longer was an act of desperation. The honour of the army having been saved by the bravery which had been displayed, I then exercised my Sovereign right, and gave orders to unfurl a flag of truce. I claim the entire responsibility of that act. The immolation of 60,000 men could not have saved France, and the sublime devotion of her chiefs and soldiers would have been uselessly sacrificed. I obeyed a cruel, but inexorable, fate. My heart was broken, but my conscience was easy.
Napoléon.
The Emperor’s Brochure.
August 29, 1872.
My dear Madame Cornu,
I need not tell you how much pleasure your wishes give me. I have been accustomed for so many years to receive proofs of your friendship; and you know how they touch me.
We shall return to Chislehurst towards October, and you will not doubt the pleasure we shall have in seeing you again.
I send you a photograph of the Prince. As to the brochure,[110] they (sic) are all at Camden Place.
Receive, my dear Madame Cornu, the renewed assurance of my sincere friendship.
Napoléon.
The Emperor’s Final Letter to Mme. Cornu.
Chislehurst,
November 17, 1872.
My dear Madame Cornu,
I send you a line for Charles Thelin;[111] to thank you for your letter; and to tell you that I shall be pleased to see M. Charbet, if he comes to England.
I hope you are better, and that we shall see you here when it is not so cold.
My poor boy is at Woolwich, and finds the apprenticeship somewhat hard.
Receive the renewed assurance of my sincere friendship.
Napoléon.
This was probably one of the last letters written by the Emperor, who passed away within two months. When writing to his foster-sister he had evidently no presentiment that his end was so rapidly approaching.
The date is December 20, 1848, and. M. Marrast, President of the National Assembly, invites Citizen Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte to take the oath required by the Constitution on his election as President of the French Republic.
The Citizen, in evening dress, with the riband of the Légion d’Honneur en sautoir, ascends the tribune, raises his right hand, and, with the slightest tremor in his voice, says, “I swear.”
What is his record?
1836.—Deported to America for attempting to procure a military rising in his favour at Strasburg.
1840.—Sentenced to perpetual confinement in the fortress of Ham for a similar attempt at Boulogne.
1846.—“Broke prison” and reached London.
In August, 1849, the Prince-President was at Tours, where he opened a new railway. Miss Howard was of the party, and was found lodgings at the residence of the Receiver-General, the Préfecture. That functionary was at “the waters” with his wife, and when he heard that the English lady—the Prince’s “favourite” for so many years—was actually staying under his Prefectorial roof-tree he “made trouble.” Louis Napoleon wrote on the subject to Odillon Barrot:
Your brother has shown me a letter from a M. André, to which I should disdain to reply did it not contain some false statements which it is right to refute.
A lady in whom I take the highest interest, accompanied by one of her friends (a lady) and by two persons of my household, wished to see the carrousel at Saumur, and from there they came to Tours. But, fearing they might not find lodgings, they asked me to take steps to obtain them some.
When I arrived at Tours I told a counsellor of the Préfecture he would oblige me by looking for an appartement for Comte Bacciochi and two ladies of my acquaintance. Chance, and their evil star, led them, it appears, to the house of M. André, where—I know not why—it was thought that one of them bore the name of Bacciochi. She has never used that name, and if such a mistake has been committed it is by strangers, and unknown to me or to the lady in question.
I should like to know why M. André, without having taken the trouble to ascertain the truth of the matter, wishes to make me responsible for the use made of his house and for the false name attributed to one of the persons. Does a proprietor make a good use of hospitality whose first care is to scrutinize the past life of anybody whom he receives? How many women, a hundred times less pure, a hundred times less devoted, a hundred times less excusable than the lady who lodged at M. André’s would have been received by him with all possible honours because they would have borne the name of their husbands to conceal their culpable liaisons!
I detest this pedantic strictness, which badly conceals the âme sèche, indulgent for himself, inexorable for others. True religion is not intolerant. It does not seek to raise storms in a glass of water, to make a scandal for nothing, and to change into a crime a simple accident or an excusable mistake.
M. André, who I am told is a Puritan, has not sufficiently meditated upon the passage of the Scriptures where Christ, addressing those as little charitable as M. André, says on the subject of a woman they wished to stone, “Let him, etc.” Let him practise this teaching. As to myself, I accuse nobody, and I admit I am culpable for seeking in illegitimate ties an affection of which my heart is in need. However, as until now my position has prevented me from marrying, as in the midst of the cares of government I have not, alas! in my country, from which I have been so long absent, either intimate friends, or youthful liaisons, or relations to give me the sweetness of the family, I may be pardoned, I think, for entertaining an affection which does no harm to anybody, and to which I do not seek to afficher myself.
To return to M. André, if he believes, as he declares, his house to have been soiled by the presence of an unmarried woman, I beg you will let him know that, on my side, I greatly regret that a lady of a devotion so pure and of a character so elevated should have stumbled by chance into a house where, under the mask of religion, there remains but the ostentation of a formal virtue without Christian charity.
Make whatever use you like of this letter.[112]
In November, 1851, the imminence of the coup d’état was talked about all over Paris as being necessary and anticipated. In the salons it was a topic of “chaff”; at the Elysée (the Prince-President’s abode) it was studied in detail; the Church hoped for it; the people expected it; the army reckoned upon it. The plan (says the pseudonymous Baron d’Ambès) was sketched at the end of October by Saint-Arnaud and Maupas, whom Louis Napoleon informed, about this time, of Changarnier’s conspiracy against the Elysée. To wait longer would be fatal. The lists of those who were to be proscribed were prepared in September. The programme for December 1 was drawn up to the most minute details. From 3 to 4 a.m. the police commissaries were to be received by the Préfet. At 5.30 the Palace of the Assembly would be occupied. At 6 arrest of Generals, representatives of Parliament, heads of societies, and dangerous democrats. At 6.30 proclamations were to be affixed to the walls, troops to be posted near the houses of those persons who were to be arrested, and positions for fighting were to be taken up by the military. By 7 o’clock it was to be “all over.” At 8 the Minister of the Interior was to send instructions to the Préfets.
The “men of the coup d’état” were divided into three classes:
First, Saint-Arnaud, Morny, and Maupas.
Second, General Magnan, Persigny, and Fleury.
Third, Baroche, Rouher, F. Barrot, De Parieu, Dumas, Véron, Romieu, Fould, Magne, Drouyn de Lhuys, De Royer, Schneider, Fortoul, Espinasse, Billault, etc.
The programme was carried out to the letter on December 1, and a year later the Prince-President had exchanged that title for the supreme one of Napoleon III., Emperor of the French. The Bonapartists’ excuse for the “coup” was that it was absolutely necessary to “sweep the board” of the President’s opponents in Parliament and out of it, and also in the army. There was sanguinary fighting in the streets, it is true, and the President was branded throughout the World as a perjurer and a criminal of the deepest dye, who had “waded through blood to a throne.” To many historians of the period he remains the “Man of December.” To later writers, not overburdened with a knowledge of the facts, he is the “Man of Sedan,” a pitiful and an ignominious figure, unworthy of sympathy.
The new Constitution was promulgated on January 14, 1852. It confided the Government of the French Republic for ten years to “Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the present President of the Republic.” (Prince Jérôme, ex-King of Westphalia, was President of the Senate.)
On November 4 the Prince sent a message to the Senate, saying that the nation had “loudly manifested its will to re-establish the Empire.” This message was dated from the Palace of St. Cloud. The Prince had now governed France for four years. A Committee of the Senate was appointed to draw up a report, and on November 6 it submitted to the Senate several resolutions, the series being known as “Senatus Consultum.” Article I declared that the “Imperial dynasty is re-established. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is Emperor of the French under the name of Napoleon III.” The imperial dignity was made hereditary from male to male, “to the perpetual exclusion of the females and their descendants.” The Senate passed and signed all the articles, and on Sunday, November 21, the voting “for the Empire” began, and lasted several days.
On December 2, 1852, the anniversary of the coup d’état, in the afternoon, the Emperor, who had been “proclaimed” at St. Cloud the previous evening, made his official entry into his capital. It was wet and cold, and, although all Paris had turned out to see the military pageant, the enthusiasm might have been greater than it was. The Emperor, mounted on a showy charger, looked anything but bright. He
MR. ALFRED AUSTIN
(POET LAUREATE)
was Special Correspondent of the Standard during the Franco-German War in 1870-71. His accounts of his interviews with Bismarck were everywhere read. Mr. Austin is one of the two English survivors of the campaign. His sonnet on the Prince Imperial, written a few days after the news of the tragedy in Zululand was received, is reproduced by the Poet Laureate’s special permission. The photograph of Mr. Austin, taken in 1870, was kindly lent by Mrs. Austin.
did not once take off his General’s plumed tricorne, but contented himself with acknowledging the salutations of the crowd by occasionally touching his hat. By his own orders he rode alone; the escort, separated from his own by a considerable space, front and rear. This was an example of the pluck which he invariably displayed both as President and as Emperor.
During his four years’ Presidency of the Republic he had been surrounded by open foes in France and by opponents who lay in ambush awaiting opportunities to strike. Foreign opinion, however, was less hostile prior to than it became after the coup d’état, which was the signal for an outburst of almost universal execration. Even Queen Victoria, who, some three years later, was entertaining, and was entertained by, the Emperor and Empress, condemned the act of December, 1851. Early in 1852 the Queen, in a letter to King Frederick William of Prussia, wrote:[113]
The political stratagem in Paris will have taken your Majesty back to the days of your youth.... Louis Napoleon had tried to freshen up the memories of all European Governments by the reintroduction of the eagle on the standards of the French army, and by allusions to changes of the boundaries, etc. In spite of this, I firmly believe in the maintenance of peace. But I am made much more anxious by the thought that those Continental Governments which have gone too far in their blind reaction, led astray by the Paris example, are of the erroneous opinion that a State is likely to last eternally which has been raised on the ruins of civil liberty with the blood of the middle classes of France, and that they may be encouraged to widen the breach between them and their peoples, and completely destroy the belief in the political morality of Governments in general.
His “Explanation”: Written by Himself.
The whole House was on its feet, threatening, shaking its fists at a man with a waxen face who protested against this last humiliation inflicted on his master. Like the Jews demanding of Pilate that he should deliver Jesus to them, we cried to posterity at the top of our voices: “Crucifige, crucifige eum!”
I do not know which of the two attitudes has left the more painful impression on my mind—that of Conti [the Emperor’s former Secretary], surrounded, almost struck, but meeting these threats with the most magnificent coolness; or that of the seven hundred and fifty representatives of the French nation, raging against a man who for six months had been little more than a corpse. He had been very guilty; but we, in our turn, were very cruel.[114]
The visit of the Emperor and Empress to Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort in 1855 was heralded by the issue of a placard thus conceived:
England’s disgrace. The Real Day of Humiliation.[115] Louis Napoleon, the Murderer, the Oath-Breaker, is coming to England.
Englishmen, do your duty!
The Empress had, we know, complained to Queen Victoria of the bitter attacks rained upon the Emperor by our newspapers, and was scarcely comforted by the Queen’s assurance that the English Press was free and could not be censored.
Bismarck, who, when he was Prussian Minister to France, professed the warmest friendship for Napoleon III., and became a favourite of the Empress and the Court, soon turned against the Emperor, speaking of him slightingly, if not contemptuously, and deprecating Napoleon’s suggestion of a Franco-Prussian alliance.
To Vambéry Napoleon III. was “this thick-set man, with his flabby features and pale, faded eyes.” Vambéry[116] could not discern in the Emperor a trace of the greatness of which he had heard so much. “His pale eyes and artificial speech soon betrayed the adventurer who had been elevated to his exalted position by the inheritance of a great name and the wantonness of the nation.”
Mme. Cornu, Louis Napoleon’s foster-sister, who had had a sincere affection for him prior to the coup d’état, execrated him for that act, declined to see him when he called upon her, and, as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, shouted to him from above that she would have nothing to do with “a man whose hands were covered with blood.” Her resentment continued for years; then, one day, she went to the Tuileries, saw the Emperor and Empress, took the little Prince in her arms, and “made it up.”
I would fain hope that we may find the “true truth” in these eloquent words of the statesman who knew the real Louis Napoleon better, perhaps, than most men, excepting De Morny, De Persigny, Fleury, Conti, and, I will add, Franceschini Pietri—I mean, as will have been guessed, M. Émile Ollivier: