N October 8th, as soon as her Majesty was fairly settled in her new residence, I left England for the purpose of going to Wilhelmshöhe to see the Emperor. I wished to give him the latest news from Chislehurst, and also an account of what I had done to effect the escape of her Majesty from Paris and from the jurisdiction of the Revolutionary Government. Although I, as an American, and as the President of the Sanitary Committee in Paris and a member of the International Red Cross Society, not only had the rights of a neutral, but was protected also by special privileges, I did not wish to expose myself to any delay on the way; and being afraid that my presence in Germany might create suspicion, I first went to Berlin, hoping to facilitate, through the mediation of Queen Augusta, my meeting with the French Emperor. To my great dismay, on arriving in the Prussian capital I learned that her Majesty had left the same evening for Homburg, and that I would be compelled to go there if I wished to see her. I at once returned to the railway station and took the express leaving for that well-known watering-place. When I arrived there and announced my name at the castle, I was immediately admitted into the Queen's presence. That august lady received me with the words, "I know all that has happened, and what you have done, and I thank you sincerely for it."

I was astonished to find that her Majesty already knew so much of what I had intended to communicate to her. And when I gave expression to my surprise, she told me that she had heard of our flight, and the circumstances connected with it, directly from the Queen of England. She also said that as soon as she had received news of the arrival of the Empress at Ryde and of the manner in which her escape had been accomplished, she had felt sure I would go to see the Emperor the moment I was at liberty to do so. She congratulated me on having been chosen by Providence to do what had so happily been accomplished, and on my being able now to carry welcome news and messages from the Empress to the prisoner of Wilhelmshöhe, and told me that she would do all in her power to enable me to communicate with him without loss of time. After I had taken dinner at the castle, I entered one of the Court carriages, and, on arriving at the railway station, found that a seat had already been taken for me in the train. At the same time a telegram had been sent by her Majesty's secretary to Wilhelmshöhe, announcing the hour I should arrive, and asking, in case there should be no room in the palace itself, that apartments might be prepared for me in a neighboring hotel.

I left Homburg greatly moved at the thought that I was about to see the Emperor Napoleon III. a prisoner in the land of the enemy of the French.

On the 5th of September, at 9.50 P.M., the Emperor had arrived at Cassel in a special train, consisting of only two carriages. An eye-witness who was present at the railway station at the time mentioned, says: "It was nearly ten o'clock when the passengers alighted. After a few servants and subaltern attendants had left the carriages, a short, stout gentleman descended. He wore a dark overcoat and the uniform of a French general. Slowly walking to an equipage that stood in waiting for him, he took a seat in it with another person and drove off. This gentleman was Louis Napoleon, two days before Emperor of the French and so recently commander of a great army, who, having been reduced by the catastrophe of Sedan and its consequences to the position of a prisoner of war, had arrived at his place of reclusion."

In order not to expose the dethroned sovereign, who was suffering severely from bodily infirmities, to too long a journey, the generous conqueror had chosen for his captive as a residence one of the most splendid palaces in Germany.

Only a few miles from Cassel, built by the Electors of Westphalia, Wilhelmshöhe is remarkable on account of the extent and beauty of its gardens, which are so embellished (not always in good taste, but at enormous. expense) with cascades and fountains, colossal statues and flights of steps, that the place has been called the Versailles of Germany. The palace itself covers a large area, is richly decorated, and is filled with valuable works of art---paintings, ancient tapestries, and statues in bronze and marble. In 1870 it was completely furnished, just as it had been left by the Elector of Hanover when in 1866 he became the prisoner of the King of Prussia. And here one of the uncles of Napoleon III., King Jérôme of Westphalia, had resided. But, in the overbearing mood of a conqueror, Jérôme had shocked the good people of Cassel and its neighborhood by changing the name of the place and calling it Napoleonshöhe; and, as it were, by a bitter irony of Fate, it came to pass that in the palace thus named a Napoleon did live, not as a reigning sovereign, but as a prisoner of war.

The Imperial prisoner, however, was treated by the Prussian King with the greatest consideration, and in a manner that was intended not to remind him of his unfortunate position. When he arrived at Wilhelmshöhe he found everything in readiness to make his sojourn at the palace most comfortable. There was a warm glow inside the splendid halls; generals, and gentlemen of the Royal household, were standing at the entrance to do the honors of the occasion; attendants were bustling about the palace and in the corridors, and everything was in gala to receive the distinguished guest.

"Times have changed since Mary was locked up by Elizabeth, or, to quote a more analogous case, since the youthful King of France was captured by the German Emperor, Charles V., on the battle-field of Pavia," says the correspondent of a well-known English newspaper when describing the treatment which Napoleon III. received in Prussia; and he adds, " Such is the aspect Royal imprisonment assumes in the courtesy of the present age."

It is strange, however, that before the mind of this writer, who seems to have been so familiar with analogous cases, the picture did not arise of the prison on a rocky island in the Atlantic, where the greatest military genius of our time perished in consequence of the brutal treatment of his jailers. When Napoleon III. arrived in Wilhelmshöhe, only forty-three years had elapsed since his famous uncle had been the victim of the cruelty of Sir Hudson Lowe; and if the late Emperor of the French received a kinder treatment, it was on account of the fact that he had fallen into the hands of a monarch who had sympathy with his enemy in his misfortune, but not because a new age of courtesy had arisen. Times change, but human character remains the same; and just as it would be ridiculous to maintain that in former times the kind treatment of an enemy was unknown, just so unreasonable is it to pretend that in our so-called age of enlightenment and refinement, brutality and arrogance towards the vanquished have become impossible.

The treatment which was benevolently intended to make the fallen sovereign forget his hard fate could, however, only alleviate, but not remove, the pain that pierced his heart. The blow had been too terrible, and its immediate effect upon the health of the monarch, who had been suffering so much for some months previous from a painful malady, was now apparent even to the casual observer.

Herr Paul Lindau, one of the best-known writers of modern Germany, has described graphically the impression made upon him when he saw the Emperor on the day of his arrival at Wilhelmshöhe:

"I have seen the Emperor," he writes, " hundreds of times in Paris. Every line of his features is just as familiar to me as are those of my nearest friend; yet I declare with the greatest sincerity that when he arrived here I did not recognize him. I am not sentimental, and my nerves are of normal strength; but the shock that the contrast presented sent a shiver to my heart. Everybody is familiar with the way in which Napoleon's hair used to be arranged---the crisp curl so carefully trained, and the historical mustache with its waxed ends that gave to his countenance its distinguished expression. All that trim soldierly air was gone. A few straggling locks of hair were scattered in confusion over his forehead, and his untended mustache drooped heavily over his closed lips, betokening the despair that must have reigned in his soul. Napoleon moved no muscle; not a line in his face was stirred when he responded to the military salute. As he turned from right to left, no gleam of expression passed across his features. His eyes had lost every vestige of meaning, and he gazed on all about him, yet evidently seeing nothing.

"Such a full personification of total apathy I have never seen. It was not a living, human face I beheld; it was a lifeless, vacant mask. I could not withdraw my gaze from him; I could not admit the possibility of the fact; I could not realize that the wreck before me was the man whose voice was but a few weeks since so potent throughout the world; that this was the wise and mighty Emperor."

The foregoing description of the appearance of the French sovereign on the evening of his arrival at Cassel, written by a keen observer, gives an idea not only of the physical condition of the Emperor, but of his state of mind during those first days after the catastrophe of Sedan.

The sun was shining brightly when, the next morning, I came to the gate of the Park of Wilhelmshöhe, .and, following the route that was marked by inscriptions pointing the way to the château, passed through a maze of trees and by clumps of shrubbery and patches of flowers blighted by the frost, and by the side of broad lawns strewn with leaves that were now falling fast, until I came in sight of the famous palace that stood out suddenly before me, a dazzling, white mass, under the hill which was crowned by the statue of the Farnese Hercules.

I stopped for a few moments to admire the building, the statues, and the fountains, and the picturesque grouping of landscape effects; and then, ascending a flight of steps and crossing the broad terrace in front of the palace, I went to the entrance on the right, where I was received by an attendant, who accompanied me to the room that had been prepared for me.

The Emperor occupied a suite in the left wing of the palace, on the second floor. It was reached by a monumental staircase, and contained several rooms. The bedroom was at the extreme end of the suite, and was very large, the bed itself standing in a sort of alcove. It was in this room that, soon after my arrival at Wilhelmshöhe, I was received by the Emperor. A table stood in the middle of the room. His Majesty sat in a chair between the bed and the table; he was smoking a cigarette, the remains of several lying upon a dish on the table. He looked pale and careworn. Never, while I live, shall I forget this meeting. Scarcely two months had elapsed since I had seen him going to place himself at the head of his troops, surrounded by a brilliant staff who dreamed of victory and glory. For some moments we remained silent; the situation was painful to me. Nor could his Majesty conceal his emotion. He then thanked me warmly for having come to him, and asked me what news I had brought from the Empress and the Prince Imperial. As I was almost the first person he had seen coming directly from the Empress since her arrival in England, he had a great many questions to ask; and, in particular, he wished me to narrate to him the details of the departure of the Empress from Paris, as they had never been reported to him. I described what had happened to the Empress from the time she left the Tuileries until her arrival in England, and what I myself had done for her up to the moment of her settling down in Chislehurst. The Emperor was so affected that frequently, during my rehearsal of the story, he was moved to tears. On my mentioning to him that her Majesty spent her last night in Paris beneath my roof, he interrupted me by inquiring what motive she had in deciding not to leave Paris on the night of the 4th. And when I told him my reasons for persuading her to remain overnight in my house, and which I have given in a previous chapter, he thanked me with much feeling, saying: "You have not only protected the Empress from harm; you also have prevented her enemies from saying that the Regent rashly deserted her capital."

When I had concluded my narration concerning the flight of the Empress, I spoke of the kind reception given to me by Queen Augusta, and the sentiments which she had expressed when speaking of the assistance I had been able to render the Empress. To this the Emperor replied: I am persuaded that this noble woman really meant what she said, for she has done everything to make me comfortable here, and I am treated with the most thoughtful and delicate kindness. I have been placed under no personal restraint whatsoever, but have been given the most complete liberty to go wherever I like, on foot or in a carriage, not only in the park but beyond its limits---a privilege of which I frequently avail myself. Thinking that it would be agreeable to me to have one of my countrymen as the head of my household, she has sent me her own steward, who is a Frenchman, and who, during the many years that he has been in her service, has gained her highest esteem. Besides, she has placed carriages and horses from her own stables at my disposal; and, in fact, I am treated by her Majesty rather like a guest than like a prisoner."

After we had conversed for more than an hour, the Emperor invited me to take a walk with him in the beautiful grounds surrounding the Palace of Wilhelmshöhe. For some time we continued our walk in the garden, while the Emperor related to me many reminiscences of his life. He avoided any reference to the political situation, which at the time was most critical in its import to the Imperial dynasty; nor did he allude to the events that had led up to it. The conversation was confined almost entirely to personal incidents and subjects. He spoke of the difference between the treatment he was now receiving and that which he was subjected to when at Ham, "where I learned," he said, "to be a prisoner, and a good many things besides. You know I have always called Ham my University. And, by the way, how are you getting on with your Interoceanic canal? It was while I was a prisoner, in 1844, that I first became interested in the project of uniting the Atlantic and Pacific oceans by means of a canal. You will remember, perhaps, that I came to the conclusion that the Nicaragua route was the best." A few words will explain how it happened that the Emperor spoke to me on this subject.

I was one of the members of a society formed in Paris, in the spring of 1870, the object of which was to examine the feasibility of constructing a ship-canal across the Isthmus of Darien or Panama. I had informed his Majesty of our project, and had told him, only two or three weeks before the declaration of war, that we had sent out an engineer to survey the routes proposed and report to us on their respective merits. The Emperor had remembered our conversation on this subject. But although the problem of constructing a ship-canal across the American isthmus had once attracted his attention, and he had found its study singularly fascinating, I cannot believe that when he asked me what we had accomplished, he was prompted to do so by any feeling of either personal interest in the project or curiosity to know what had really been done. I am sure it was rather from an impulse of sympathy for a friend whose efforts he would have been pleased to hear had been successful.

But while engaged in this discursive talk, unwittingly we had come out upon the open country road and saw ourselves suddenly surrounded by a group of children, who at first stared at us curiously, and then approached to solicit money. The Emperor, kind and generous as ever---he who had spent so freely the income granted to him by his people in works of charity and in largesses of every sort---could not resist the appealing looks of the blue eyes of the little boys and girls who stood around us. Drawing from his pocket some rather large pieces of silver, he handed these to them with a pleased expression on his face; and then, turning towards me and slightly blushing, he said, as if to excuse himself: "You will think me, perhaps, a spendthrift. It is true, I should not forget that I am no longer an Emperor."

Soon after we returned from this walk breakfast was served in the great dining-room of the palace. And here I met some of the most distinguished of those officers and gentlemen who had followed the Emperor into captivity---the Princes de la Moskowa and Murat, and Generals Castelnau, Reille, and Pajol, Captain Lauriston, and others, among whom were M. Franceschini Piétri, and the Emperor's lifelong inseparable friend, Dr. Conneau. These gentlemen I had the pleasure of meeting again at dinner; after which the hours were spent in pleasant conversation, every one speaking of that which he had most at heart. Of course, the then existing condition of France was the chief topic; and the hope which was expressed by most of the military men was that of soon seeing again their own country. The Emperor tried to hide his emotion when reference was made to going home, but looking into his face I could see plainly what sorrow possessed his soul. Others might hope, but he did not dare to indulge the hope of seeing France again. All he could expect was that the Prussian Government would soon grant him the favor of rejoining his wife and son in England. During the evening he spoke much, and in the kindest manner, of the country which had given its hospitality to the Empress in her distress, and he remembered gratefully the days he himself had spent as an exiled Prince under the protecting flag of Great Britain.

The day after my arrival at Wilhelmshöhe I left that place and went to see some of the camps in which the French were held as prisoners of war; and afterward I went to Saarbruck, where hostilities began and visited the battle-fields and hospitals in the vicinity of Metz. My object was to see if it was possible for me in any way to alleviate the hardships and sufferings of the French soldiers, who, wounded or sick, were at the same time prisoners of war.

On my way back to England I stopped a short time in Brussels. Here I was received by the King and Queen of Belgium, who were anxious to hear about the flight of the Empress; and the King told me of the arrangements that had been made to protect the Prince Imperial and provide for his wants when he passed through Belgium en route to England.

When I left the palace I went to the Hôtel de Bellevue, and found there her Highness, Princess Mathilde, the daughter of the ex-King of Westphalia, and cousin of Napoleon Ill. She talked freely to me about the events which had taken place in France. She told me that she was very anxious to see the Empress Eugénie, and that she should go for that purpose to England as soon as the weather became more settled---being apparently somewhat afraid of sea-sickness. I met in the hotel also the Duke de Bassano, and M. Benedetti, who, as Ambassador to Prussia, played such an important part just before the beginning of the Franco-German War.

In Brussels I found a number of important letters and despatches, that had been awaiting my arrival there for a week or more. Accordingly, on October 28th, after an absence of exactly twenty days, I returned to England to relate to her Majesty my interview with the Emperor, to report to her what I had heard and seen that might interest her, and to make arrangements to carry out the work which my inspection of the French hospitals and prison camps had suggested to me, and which I had resolved should occupy my time during the coming months.

During my absence, or rather from the moment of her arrival in England, her Majesty, unmindful of herself, had used all the influence she still possessed to help and protect her unfortunate country, notwithstanding the acts and the ingratitude of her people.

The Revolution which overthrew the Empire, at the same time completely isolated France, and destroyed all hope of an alliance with other Powers. The ties which bound the Court of Florence to that of the Tuileries were now broken. Princess Clotilde had left the country, as the Empress had done; and Prince Napoleon was an exile. The King of Italy was wounded by the catastrophe which overwhelmed his ally, his relative, and his friend. The Court of Vienna, which in 1867 began to enter into very friendly relations with the French Court in order to secure the assistance of Napoleon III in view of certain complications that were threatening, no longer saw any ground for an alliance with France, because its raison d'être had entirely depended upon the private politics of the Emperor and his personal influence. It was now too late to act with France in order to check the ambitious projects of the Chancellor of the North-German Confederation; and what, on the other hand, the attitude of the French Republic would be with respect to various political questions that might interest Austria, could not be foreseen.

The Russian Government, it is true, during the reign of Napoleon III had not always been upon the most friendly terms with France; but the German victories were so overwhelming as to lead to a revulsion of feeling in Russia, and the Emperor Alexander told General Fleury, the French Ambassador, that at the right moment he would speak loudly in favor of France. This assurance which the Czar gave to the Imperial Government was a promise that could be relied upon, for the Czar had engaged his personal word; but he had engaged it to the Emperor, and not to a Ministry which was regarded as illegitimate by the Courts of Europe. Prince Gortschakoff had proposed to offer his mediation in order to obtain a revision of the Treaty of Paris; but after the Revolution had isolated France entirely, his mediation had become impossible. The Court and the high personages of Russia could look with no favor upon a country in which the Pole Berezowsky, who had attempted to assassinate the Czar, and the lawyer M. Floquet, who had insulted him, were persons of distinction.

M. Jules Favre, the Minister for Foreign Affairs in the new Government, knew nothing of this promise, or of the relations of the Imperial Cabinet with the Russian Government, for he says: "A rapid examination was sufficient to convince me not only that we had no alliance---this I already knew---but that our diplomacy had never made a serious effort to obtain one."(52)

The Prince de la Tour d'Auvergne had, of course, not believed himself to be justified in communicating the Cabinet secrets of the Empire to his Republican successor; but if M. Jules Favre had not been satisfied with "a rapid examination," as he calls it, he might have easily discovered the actual state of things. This knowledge, however, would not have been of any use to him, since, for the reasons above given, the foreign Cabinets had ceased to take an interest in the fortunes of France from the moment of the proclamation of the Republic.(53)

The very last despatch which was received at the Tuileries (on September 4th) came from General Fleury in reply to a communication from the Regent sent after the capitulation of Sedan, inquiring to what extent the Czar was disposed to intervene. In this despatch General Fleury said the Czar was disposed to advise Prussia to end the war.

Inasmuch as the mind of the Empress had been occupied for many days with but one thought---so far as France was concerned---namely, how to limit the consequences of the military disasters, from the very moment she arrived in England she set to work to follow up the negotiations she had opened with the Russian Court.

It would not have been astonishing had the Imperial family wished to see France punished for the behavior of the people toward their sovereign; but Napoleon III and his noble consort loved their country more than their throne, and were grieved, rather than incited to feelings of animosity, by the acts which the people had committed.

I was with her Majesty every day at this time, and her political opinions and purposes were freely declared and discussed, and were no secret to any one in her immediate entourage.

As it happened, General Fleury, notwithstanding the events in Paris, had remained in St. Petersburg, and was so well liked at the Russian Court that his influence survived his official position and his government. Accordingly, on her arrival at Hastings, among the first despatches sent by the Empress was one to General Fleury, urging him not to cease his efforts to obtain an honorable peace. And when her Majesty was informed of the suspicion and hostility with which the Republic was regarded at the European courts, and was told that the personal intervention of the Czar was now scarcely to be expected, she wrote to the Emperor Alexander a letter, in which she asked him not to change his policy in regard to France on account of the Revolution.

"If I have correctly understood the reports of our ambassador," the Empress wrote, on September 13th, from Hastings, "your Majesty has, à priori, decided against the dismemberment of France. Fate has been hard to us. The Emperor is a prisoner, and calumniated. Another Government has taken up the task which we had thought it our duty to fulfil. I supplicate your Majesty to use your influence in order to make it possible that an honorable and durable peace may be concluded when the moment shall arrive. May France, whatever its government, always be able to count upon the same sentiments which your Majesty has had for our own during these hard trials.''

While the Empress thus, with noble self-denial, was willing to assist the Revolutionary party, if only the country could be spared, the new Government acted in just the opposite manner. Instead of avoiding all that could possibly compromise the future of France, thinking only of how their acts could be extenuated, they loudly calumniated the Empire and exalted themselves. It would be difficult to imagine anything more injudicious and undiplomatic than the declamatory circular issued on September 6th by M. Jules Favre, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and addressed by him to the diplomatic representatives of France in foreign countries. It was a paon of victory over "Napoleon III and his dynasty," a defiance to Germany, and a menace to the established institutions of Europe. "Voilà, monsieur, ce que l'Europe doit savoir!" cried out Favre at the close of this precious document. He wished it to be understood that the authority was in new hands.

When the Emperor Alexander received from her Majesty the letter here referred to, he expressed to her his regret that circumstances had changed the situation of things. This answer of the Russian Emperor showed that he was not willing to assist the Republic. Her Majesty, however, instead of resting satisfied with what she had done, or even becoming discouraged by the reply of the Czar, decided to use her influence once more in favor of her country through General Fleury. Having heard that M. Jules Favre had appealed to the foreign Powers in order to obtain through their assistance an interview with Count Bismarck, she wrote to General Fleury requesting him to intercede before the Czar in behalf of the Republican Minister for Foreign Affairs. The Ambassador, in obedience to her Majesty, immediately complied with her wishes, and did everything in his power to counteract the unfavorable impression which the Republican Government had produced by its first public acts. Since every one knew that M. Fleury was one of the earliest and most devoted friends of the Emperor, and was strongly attached to the Imperial family, his efforts in behalf of Jules Favre and his colleagues could not be misinterpreted, and therefore had the desired effect. The Government of St. Petersburg consequently advised the Prussian Government to enter into negotiations with the Republican representative, and the famous interview between Bismarck and Jules Favre at Ferrières took place.

Her Majesty's appeals in behalf of France were, however, not addressed to the Czar of Russia alone. She wrote also to the Emperor of Austria and to the Queen of England, begging them to intervene; but in vain. Indeed, her unremitting efforts to obtain for France an honorable peace were not only known at the time in all the chancelleries of Europe, but were of such signal service that the Government of the National Defense were compelled to recognize them, and, singular as it may seem, even instructed Monsieur Tissot, their representative at the Court of St. James's to convey to the Empress Eugénie their thanks "très respectueusement."

But the interview at Ferrières, unfortunately for France, led to no result. And no satisfactory result was expected by the German Chancellor from an interview with M. Favre, or any other representative of the Government of the National Defense, at that time. This was the reason why the Regent was invited insidiously, and more directly, to take a part in the negotiations with Prussia. But history must always give her the credit which is her due, that she used all that remained of her power in the interest and for the welfare of her country; that neither by the bitterness of her misfortune, nor the feeling of its injustice, nor by the desire to recover the throne for her husband or her son, was she induced to sacrifice her patriotism or her sense of the Imperial dignity. Her conduct at this critical moment, as we shall see, was inspired by the most generous self-renunciation. Even in her greatest humiliation she still behaved nobly and like a sovereign.

The Revolution of September 4th, as we know from the conversation between Count Bismarck and General Wimpfen, was not a surprise to the German Chancellor. He had foreseen it. The success of Prussia was complete; and the great Minister of King William had a good right to congratulate himself that the French themselves had assisted him, though perhaps unintentionally, in his plans. The Germans all recognized this fact. On September 8th, the well-known Bavarian paper, the Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung, said: "How he must laugh in his sleeve, the great diplomatist who now wears the helmet of a cuirassier, when he sees the change which the planting of the first Liberty Tree in Paris has produced in the sentiments of Europe!"

The Revolution in Paris, although it was on the whole favorable to the development of Count Bismarck's plans, was nevertheless somewhat embarrassing. Bismarck wished peace; but in order to conclude it, he needed a government in France that would be strong enough to accept the heavy concessions which he had determined to demand, and that at the same time would be lasting enough to assure the payment of the enormous retributive contribution which he intended to impose upon the country. Now, the gentlemen of the National Defense could not contract engagements in the name of France, because their Government had never been sanctioned by the French people; while the Regent, although de jure entitled to sign a treaty of peace, was de facto powerless to have her signature recognized. The German "diplomatist," however, had to choose between the one or the other of the two governments; but before deciding for either, he commenced negotiations with both.

On September 11th Count Bismarck began to execute his projects. On that day he caused a note to be inserted in the Indépendant Rémois, insinuating that the Prussian Government would not be able to treat with the Republican Government of the National Defense. This note contained the following passage: "The German Governments have hitherto not recognized any government in France except that of the Emperor Napoleon; and in their eyes, up to the present moment the Imperial Government is the only one which is authorized to enter into negotiations of an international character . . . . They could treat with the Emperor Napoleon, or with the Regency instituted by him; they could enter into communications with Marshal Bazaine, who holds command from the Emperor; but it is impossible to comprehend under what title the German Governments could treat with a power which represents only a part of the left wing of the former Chamber of Deputies."

Two days later, when the German Chancellor received a communication through the Prussian Ambassador in London, stating that M. Jules Favre desired to have an interview with him, he at once sent to Count von Bernstorff an answer containing this passage: "I said in my last telegram that you could accept all kinds of overtures on the part of the Queen of England, but that you could not attach to such overtures as may come from the Government which at present actually exists in Paris the same importance which an overture would have when made by the Government of France. The Government of Paris has not been recognized by the nation, and the Emperor Napoleon is, for foreign Powers, the only depositary of sovereignty."

This despatch was communicated to M. Thiers, who had just arrived in London, and through him was sent to the Government of the National Defense, to which it gave great inquietude. It reached Hastings also, undoubtedly, through the agency of the English Foreign Office; but it did not have the effect of causing the Empress to intimate even that, in the existing circumstances, she would be willing to reassume the responsibilities of sovereignty.

The Regent did not abandon the passive rôle which she had imposed upon herself on the 4th of September. She was true to what she had then said; were she to fall, she wished to do so without encumbering the defense. For this reason she had not protested against the Revolution, either before the French people or to the foreign Powers. This also was the attitude of the Emperor himself. He had refused at Sedan to negotiate for peace, declaring that, from the moment he was a prisoner, it was not his business to do so. This right, he said, belonged to the Regent. And after the fall of his Government he refused still more decidedly to take part in any negotiations. He might have done so if by his own personal influence he could have procured for his country certain conditions of peace, as, for instance, a guarantee that no part of the French territory should be sacrificed; but this, of course, was not to be hoped for from the Prussian Government. Such being the situation, it could be foreseen that the negotiations for peace would probably, at last, have to be entered into and conducted with the Republicans.

N the 12th of September a man named Régnier, who had never occupied any public position in France, and who had no known relations in the political world, wrote to a person at Hastings, submitting to him a project for the restoration of the Napoleonic dynasty upon a special basis, the most important points of which were the conclusion of peace, the return of the Regent to France, and the reunion of the Legislative Body under the protection of the army of Metz. Receiving no answer to his letter, on the 14th, two days later, Régnier came to Hastings and asked for an audience before the Empress. When, however, the Empress refused to see him, he exposed his views to a friend of her Majesty, trying by this means to secure favorable notice and the adoption of his plans. The friend in question told him that he was convinced that all efforts to induce her Majesty to consider this scheme would be in vain. Nevertheless M. Régnier returned the next day, and strenuously insisted upon seeing the Regent. "Her inaction," said he, "is a great mistake; no time should be lost. I, or somebody else, ought to have been since yesterday in personal communication with Count Bismarck, not officially, but confidentially and secretly."

Receiving another refusal, M. Régnier said he would go to Wilhelmshöhe and offer his services to the Emperor. But fearing he might find it difficult to obtain access to the distinguished prisoner, he waited for an opportunity to approach the Prince Imperial. On meeting his Highness, one day, when walking with his tutor, M. Filon, Régnier accosted them, and saying he was about to leave for Wilhelmshöhe, remarked, apparently in a casual way ---as he had at the time some photographs in his hand

"If the Prince would like to send a souvenir of Hastings to the Emperor, he has only to put his name on one of these photographs, and I will see that the Emperor gets it." M. Filon consenting, as the matter seemed to him of little importance, the Prince Imperial wrote under one of the photographs: " My dear Papa; I send you some views of Hastings. I hope they will please you." And he affixed his signature to these words.

As soon as M. Régnier had obtained this signature, he departed, not for Wilhelmshöhe, but for Ferrières, where, on the very day of his arrival---September 19th---the interview between Count Bismarck and Jules Favre took place. Whoever M. Régnier may have been, whether a Prussian agent or a French adventurer, whom the Prussian authorities took for an agent of the Empress, one thing is certain, that, having in his possession a passport obtained at the Prussian Embassy in London, he passed without difficulty through the German lines, and was admitted, the very moment of his arrival at Ferrières, into the presence of the German Chancellor. Count Bismarck listened to M. Régnier's plan for the restoration of the Empire, and granted him, at his request, a laissez passer, enabling him to travel with safety through the territory occupied by the German armies. The photographs, however, he retained; and a few moments later he showed them to M. Jules Favre, in order to impress upon him the fact that negotiations were going on between himself and the Empress.

On the evening of the day following the fruitless interview between Jules Favre and Bismarck, the German Chancellor gave another audience to M. Régnier. The latter then suggested that, instead of going to Wilhelmshöhe, it might be best for him to go to Metz, in order to induce Marshal Bazaine to accept his plan for a restoration of the Empire. Count Bismarck approved of this idea; and M. Régnier departed, furnished with the necessary passes, for Metz. On the 23d he arrived at the head-quarters of the German army, and was received by Prince Frederick Charles, who had been prepared by a telegram from Count Bismarck announcing Régnier's arrival. In the evening M. Régnier continued his journey, and entered within the fortifications of the beleaguered city.

After the battle of Saint Privat, Marshal Bazaine decided that it would be the wisest thing for his army to remain inside the fortifications of Metz; and this decision had been taken after consulting with all the corps commanders. These military chiefs, at the council of war held August 26th in the Castle of Grimont, declared that it would be impossible for the army to leave Metz without incurring the risk of a total defeat. Nevertheless, as soon as the news arrived of the movement of Marshal MacMahon 's forces in the direction of Metz, an attempt was made to effect a junction with his army. On the evening of August 30th Marshal Bazaine marched in the direction of Thionville, and a hard fight took place between the French and the German troops, lasting until late in the night. The next morning it was renewed, but the Prussians remained victorious, for during the night they had obtained reenforcements. This was the last great battle in which the army of Metz was engaged. On the 7th of September Marshal Bazaine heard of the disaster at Sedan, and a few days later of the Revolution in Paris. M. Debaine, a prisoner who had escaped from the German outposts, brought into Metz papers describing the situation in France and the events which had recently taken place. The Marshal, greatly moved by this news, addressed himself to Prince Frederick Charles, begging of him information regarding the real condition of the country. The Prince answered him on September 16th, closing his letter with a phrase which was a direct invitation to begin negotiations. The words were: "Furthermore, your Excellency will find me ready and authorized to send to him all the information that he may desire."(54) These words were soon afterward confirmed by the arrival of a copy of the Indépendant Rémois of the 11th, containing the communication previously quoted. There could be no doubt that the Prussians wished to negotiate with the army of Metz. This, of course, made a great impression upon the Marshal, for his army was already reduced to eating the cavalry horses, and before the end of October there would be no provisions of any kind left. Besides, there was no hope of breaking through the lines of the enemy, at least as far as Marshal Bazaine was able to judge from his point of view.

Thus matters stood at the moment of the arrival of M. Régnier. An agent coming from the Regent might be, possibly, a messenger bringing salvation to the army. Moreover, an order from the Empress would divest the Marshal of the necessity for treating on his own account. This may explain the benevolent reception which the Commander-in-Chief extended to an individual who was not known to any one in the city, and the imprudence with which he entrusted to him information concerning the actual condition of his army. Besides, the facility with which M. Régnier had been able to pass through the Prussian lines gave an appearance of truth to his pretended mission. The interview lasted a long time. M. Régnier spoke of his negotiations with Count Bismarck; of the ruin that must follow a continuation of the war; of the desirability of an armistice; of the important rôle which the army of Metz was called upon to play; of the necessity of sending either Marshal Canrobert or General Bourbaki to the Regent, in order to explain to her the perilous state of the army in Metz, and to induce her to sign a treaty of peace. The Marshal answered that it was, of course, to the interest of France to make peace; and that if the army were permitted to leave Metz, it would surely be able to maintain order in the interior, and to enforce the terms of peace which should be agreed upon. As a sign of his readiness to act upon the suggestions of Régnier, he consented to place his signature beside that of the Prince Imperial, at the foot of the photograph which Régnier had again in his possession.

M. Régnier returned the next day to the Prussian head-quarters, where Prince Frederick Charles showed him two telegrams which he had received from Count Bismarck, announcing that Jules Favre had rejected the conditions on which alone the King was willing to consent to an armistice. The Prince then. said that he would authorize a French general to leave Metz in order to go to England and confer with the Regent. M. Régnier went back immediately to report this news to Marshal Bazaine. Thereupon it was decided that General Bourbaki should depart for Chislehurst; and that same evening the General left Metz disguised as a physician.(55)

Two or three days later (September 27th) General Bourbaki arrived at Camden Place. While en route, having learned the situation of things in France, brought about by the Revolution, and seeing that, in fact, he held no commission to act from any one in authority, he began to feel embarrassed. His surprise can be imagined when, on presenting himself before the Empress, she expressed her astonishment that he should be in England, and informed him that she had not requested him to leave Metz; that she knew nothing whatsoever of M. Régnier's plans, and that she did not remember to have ever before even heard his name.

The scene that followed was most distressing. The Empress could not conceal her indignation on discovering that she had been made unbeknown to her the principal in a miserable intrigue. And General Bourbaki, when he found that he had been basely duped, was so overcome with anger and mortification as to be quite beside himself. All he could say for several minutes was: "I want to go back! Why have I been sent here? I want to go back! I want to go back! "

Although the Empress had not been at all implicated in the machinations by which General Bourbaki had been induced to leave Metz, she was greatly pained by the information which the General gave her with regard to the situation and condition of the army shut up in that stronghold.

It was impossible for her to interfere directly with the course of things, but she resolved once more to use her influence with the foreign Powers, to induce them to advise the Prussian King to make the conditions of peace moderate. It was under these circumstances, and for this purpose, that she wrote, September 28th, to her friend, Francis Joseph.

"Misfortunes," she said in this letter, "have been poured down upon us, Sire. The Emperor, being a prisoner, can at this moment do nothing for his country. But I, having been obliged to leave France against my own will, cannot remain silent in the midst of so much sorrow and ruin. I believe that, in addressing myself to your Majesty, your Majesty will understand that my only care is for France; that for it alone my heart is greatly moved, and that for it alone I pray. I hope your Majesty will employ your influence to protect my country against humiliating demands, and to obtain for it a peace by which the integrity of its territory shall be respected."

M. Régnier's rôle was finished from the moment the Empress refused his mediation. As he was unable to show any regular credentials, the Germans now declined to listen to his propositions, and he disappeared from the stage where for a brief time he had figured.(56)

Nevertheless, Count Bismarck had not yet given up the hope of coming to an understanding with the Imperial party, and he therefore addressed himself to Napoleon III. The Emperor had not directly refused to enter into preliminary negotiations; he would have consented to do this could only a basis favorable to France have been obtained. On September 27th he had sent General Castelnau to the head-quarters of the King of Prussia with a memorandum in which he suggested that since, in his opinion, the struggle between France and Germany could never come to an end except through the total destruction of one of the two adversaries, or through their honest and loyal reconciliation guaranteed by the dismantlement of the fortifications (which would then become unnecessary), such a reconciliation was most earnestly to be desired. Count Bismarck, however, considered the military situation as too favorable to Germany to accept the Emperor's proposition. While intimating that, the day after the capitulation of Sedan, he might have been satisfied with a heavy indemnity and the dismantlement of the fortifications, now, after the siege of Paris had commenced, and the siege of Strasburg and the investment of Metz were approaching an end, the Chancellor demanded a concession of territory as a sine quâ non.

The situation of the troops in Metz became from day to day more critical. A council of war decided, on the 10th of October, to parley with the enemy in order to obtain for the army honorable conditions of capitulation; but in case the Germans were to impose terms incompatible with sentiments of honor and military duty, salvation was to be sought on the battle-field. General Boyer, an aide-de-camp of Marshal Bazaine, was then sent to the German headquarters to ascertain under what conditions the army could leave Metz. This envoy of the Marshal arrived on the 14th at Versailles, where Count Bismarck informed him that if simply a military capitulation was intended, and not peace, General von Moltke was resolved to impose upon the army in Metz terms exactly like those required at Sedan.

When General Boyer protested against this, declaring that the army in Metz would never accept such conditions, Count Bismarck added, "Perhaps I can suggest some political considerations to the King and his Council" ; and taking the General aside, the Chancellor explained to him that, in his opinion, the moment for peace had arrived, and that Germany desired peace quite as much as France.

"But in order to make peace," he continued, "we must have a serious and strong government to treat with, one which can guarantee it. The King cannot treat with the Government of the National Defense, which has been unable to conceal from him its dangerous designs. He is absolutely decided not to treat with the Government of Paris, and still less with that of Tours. I can, besides, assure you that the German Government is not hostile to the Imperial dynasty, and that it is not hostile to the Imperial form of Government; on the contrary, it even believes that this form of government is most suitable to the French people. And," he remarked, "the King is personally in favor of a restoration of the Napoleonic dynasty in he person of the Prince Imperial, and under the Regency of the Empress, the Council to be presided over by a Marshal of France. Nevertheless, we do not wish to again commit the fault which we committed in 1815, that of imposing a government upon France; she must choose one for herself, or at least she must sanction one."

Then the German statesman vividly described to General Boyer what the interior situation of France had been since September 4th; and he insisted particularly on the impotency of the French army in the provinces. He showed that the army of Metz, after leaving the fortifications, could place itself at the disposal of the Legislative Body, and reestablish order and regular government.

"But," he remarked, "the King will not set free the army of Metz until peace is assured. It is therefore necessary that the Regent should sign the Treaty of Peace; and in order that her signature may be of value, it is also necessary that the army of Metz should promise to sustain the Imperial Government. What is the feeling of the army towards the Empire?" then asked the Chancellor.

General Boyer said that the army had not recognized the Government of the National Defense, which had hitherto not communicated with it; that, moreover, the army had taken the oath of allegiance to the Emperor, and that it would remain faithful to this oath. Such an assurance, however, seemed to the Chancellor insufficient, and he expressed a desire that the army should make a public manifestation in favor of the Regent. This would have been a veritable pronunciamento, and General Boyer energetically refused to consent to it. Count Bismarck replied: "A manifestation of the army is, however, indispensable, for the Empress will not engage herself in negotiations if she is not sure that she will be upheld by the army in what she does. You will have to obtain from her Majesty the signature of the preliminaries of peace; and under these conditions you can depart with the honors of war, taking along your arms, your cannons, and your matériel; and Metz will remain free and will be her own mistress, so that she can defend herself with the means at her disposal. With these conditions," said Count Bismarck, "I shall perhaps be able to persuade the King not to insist upon the surrender of Metz."

The next day the Count again met the French General, and he informed him that King William was willing to treat with the Regent, and without demanding the surrender of Metz. "Go, therefore," the Chancellor said, "and obtain from the Empress the signature of the preliminaries, and from the army the promise to make a publie declaration of a firm intention to follow the Empress. Then you will have what I told you yesterday---the army will retreat with the honors of war, taking along with it its cannons and flags. But it is clearly understood that it is to the Regent that you are to address yourself; for she is the only person that still exists, the only one with whom I can treat."

General Boyer repeated what he had said the evening before---that the French army makes no pronunciamentos; but he expressed a wish to know what conditions of peace would be offered to the Regent.

Count Bismarck refused to reveal these to anybody except to the Empress herself, or to some one invested with power to act in her name.

On October 17th General Boyer brought to Metz the ultimatum of Count Bismarck. A council of war was called together the next morning, to consider whether the negotiations should be continued; but the thought of provoking a public manifestation of the army in favor of the Empire met with strong opposition. Nevertheless, as it was necessary to know whether the troops could be counted upon, it was decided to interrogate the colonels with regard to the sentiments of the officers. In the evening a second meeting took place, and Marshals Canrobert and Lebœuf, and Generals Froissart and Desvaux, reported that all the officers would follow them, and that the army could be counted upon. With respect to the expediency of sending an officer to the Regent for the purpose of inducing her to negotiate a treaty, the views were greatly divided, some members of the council having a repugnance to enter into political combinations, the others declaring it impossible to have recourse to arms. Finally, General Changarnier's opinion carried the day; and it was recognized by the council of war "that the only means of salvation, not only for the army but also for France, was to rally openly around the Government of the Regent."(57)

It was then decided that permission should be obtained from Prince Frederick Charles to send an officer to the Empress. And on this permission being granted, to General Boyer was entrusted the mission of explaining to her Majesty the situation at Metz, and soliciting her assistance in order to save the army.

General Boyer arrived at Chislehurst October 22d. He told the Regent that he considered the army at Metz as lost, if some arrangement were not made with the enemy very soon; that when he left Metz there were but two days' rations remaining, and that the last ration of bread had already been eaten. He said to her Majesty that the Government would be reestablished in a regular manner through the agency of the Legislative Body, the Senate, and the Ministerial Representatives of the Government, if they could be convoked---that the Legislative Body, which had been dispersed by the mob on the 4th of September, should resume its sessions seemed most natural---or that an appeal should be made to the people. He endeavored to impress it upon the mind of her Majesty that she alone could solve the difficulty by hastening to accept the propositions made by Count Bismarck; and that if she consented to do this, she could count upon the concurrence of her troops. He told her, furthermore, that he, General Boyer, was charged by Marshal Bazaine and the other general officers to make this announcement.

The Regent understood that she could not refuse her intervention at so critical a moment. But before binding herself to negotiate a treaty, she wished to ascertain what conditions Count Bismarck would stipulate; for she was afraid of sacrificing the interests of the country in attempting to save the army. She therefore telegraphed at once to Count Bismarck, in order to show that she was willing to negotiate, and, without saying anything of her further intentions, requested for the army of Metz an armistice of fourteen days, with permission meanwhile to procure provisions. At the same time, she asked for the preliminary conditions of peace which he would propose.

In the afternoon her Majesty called together at Camden Place a council consisting of MM. Rouher, La Valette, Chevreau, Jérôme David, the Duke de Persigny, and Prince Napoleon. To this council General Boyer also was admitted. Here he once more repeated what he had said in the forenoon, urging her Majesty to come to a definite decision, and emphatically maintaining that, if the delay should be prolonged, the army of Metz would be forced to lay down its arms. Her Majesty answered that she would use her influence in behalf of peace, but that she could not act before she had ascertained what preliminary conditions would be imposed.

What these terms would be General Boyer either would not or could not tell her. He said that he did not know; that Count Bismarck had not informed him; that his mission to Versailles was not political, but military---undertaken for the purpose of saving the army. At last he said, "No matter how exorbitant, you must accept them and sign them." On hearing these words, the Empress was greatly shocked.

And then she writes a last despatch to King William, in which she appeals to his " kingly heart," to his " generosity as a soldier," and begs of him to grant her request made in the telegram addressed to Count Bismarck. But the King is dumb.

Neither could the Empress obtain any information upon the subject from the Prussian Ambassador to London. In an interview Count Bernstorff had with her on the 25th, he would only go so far as to say that the German Chancellor would give to the Regent much more favorable conditions than to either of the existing Governments. He admitted that he knew the conditions---that some cession of territory would probably be required---but finally closed the conversation by referring her to General Boyer.

Most anxious to ascertain what the preliminary conditions might be, the Empress now telegraphed to the Emperor at Wilhelmshöhe, asking him if he knew anything about them. But the answer she received threw no light upon the subject of her inquiry.

It was certain that the terms which Count Bismarck had determined to exact were hard. Hard as they might be, nevertheless it might have been the duty of the Empress to accept them. This she fully recognized at the time, and frankly admitted when speaking to me on this subject not long ago. But what made it absolutely impossible for her Majesty to think of accepting them----of putting her name to the proposed preliminary treaty---was that, to all intents and purposes, it was only the blank form of a treaty that was to be presented to her for her signature, the important clauses of which were to be filled in subsequently by the German Chancellor at his own good pleasure. This humiliation the Empress would not submit to, and she declared, furthermore, that she would never take such a responsibility upon herself as to engage in negotiations with the German Chancellor without seeing clearly their end and purpose; that she was too much of a Frenchwoman, and too sincerely attached to France, to do so; and that in case the conditions could not be laid. before her in the most exact form, and the thought of a cession of French territory should not be given up entirely, she would not treat with the King of Prussia, even to prevent the surrender of the army.

Thus the mission of General Boyer failed, and five days later, on October 27th, the army of Metz capitulated.

To the letter in which General Boyer announced to the Empress the surrender of the army of Marshal Bazaine and the fortress of Metz, she replied:

"I have just received your letter. Stunned as I am by the painful news, I can only express to you my admiration for this valiant army and its chiefs. Overwhelmed by numbers, but faithful guardians of the glory and the honor of our unhappy country, they have preserved intact the traditions of our ancient legions. You know the efforts I have made, and my inability, to avert a fate that I would willingly have spared them at the sacrifice of my most cherished hopes.

"When you rejoin your companions-in-arms, tell them that they have been the hope, the pride, and the sorrow of one who is an exile, like themselves."

Most of the facts here set forth referring to these political intrigues are now matters of common history. At the time the events occurred, however, they were known to only a few persons---to the parties directly concerned, or to those living in close connection with them. But the feeling of the Empress and of the Emperor with regard to the several attempts of the German Chancellor to induce them to consent to a disgraceful peace, and to the dismemberment of France, for the sake of the Empire and the dynasty, can never be fully understood or appreciated, except by those persons whose privilege it was to hear from their own lips the words of noble disdain with which those Grecian gifts were repudiated and refused.(58)

On the 28th of September, 1840, when on trial before the Chamber of Peers at the Palace of the Luxembourg on account of the Boulogne affair, Prince Louis Napoleon, in the speech he made in his own defense, said: "The Emperor, my uncle, preferred rather to abdicate the Empire than to accept through treaties such restricted frontiers as would result in compelling France to submit to the contempt and the threats that are offered to her by the foreigner at the present time. Not for a single day have I breathed forgetful of this lesson."

Probably these words, when they were uttered, were not noticed, or were only received with a derisive smile, but they have now a singular significance. They were not vain words; they were imperious and far-reaching. The Pretender of 1840 was Emperor in 1870, but still carried in his soul the lesson of his uncle; and the lesson is, that the Empire cannot exist in a dismembered, degraded, and decadent France.

Those writers who have attributed the Franco-German War to the political influence of the Empress, and have even ascribed to her a desire to seize the reins of government, have been much more anxious to find reasons to justify their personal animosities or their political conduct than to contribute to the truth of history; they certainly show how little they really knew of her character, or of that of the Emperor, or of the men and the influences that directed the policy of the Imperial Government.

It has often been said that the alliance with Italy could have been promptly made in July, 1870, had not French diplomacy at this time been blinded by religious prejudices and controlled by clerical considerations---in a word, but for the violent opposition of the Empress to one of the conditions of the alliance. It is true there was but one obstacle that stood in the way of an immediate understanding between the two Governments with respect to the proposed compact. This was the price that Italy asked---which was the occupation of Rome. That the French Government should have hesitated, in fact, should have refused to concede this, as a condition precedent to an offensive alliance, can surprise no one who has respect for the obligations of treaties or who understands the depth and power of religious feeling in France, especially in social and military circles.

"France cannot," said the Duke de Gramont, "defend its honor on the Rhine and sacrifice it on the Tiber"; and again, when General Türr wrote to the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, in July, saying, "Italy will not enter into an alliance with France until Rouher's 'jamais' has been repudiated," M. de Gramont in a despatch to the French Minister at Vienna, La Tour d'Auvergne, said: "Tell Türr that I have received his letter, but that it is impossible for us to do the least thing for Rome." And a few days later (July 27th), in a despatch to La Tour d'Auvergne, referring to this idea of securing an ally by despoiling the Pope of his temporal possessions, he said: "There would burst out in France a cry of indignation that would stigmatize us. The proceeding would be more keenly resented by our people than the conduct of the Prussian Government."

The position taken by the Imperial Government was that if Italy was unwilling to march, except on the condition above referred to, her cooperation was not to be desired. And no other position, at the moment, was possible. There was in this decision of the Imperial Government no question of the personal religious predilections and sentiments of the Empress or of any one connected with the Government. In fact, M. Émile Ollivier wrote to the Emperor saying:

"Your Majesty knows that I am not a partizan of the temporal power of the Pope---but no alliance is worth a breach of good faith." The Imperial Government merely recognized what was then plain to the simplest understanding, that it would be folly to obtain the cooperation of Italy by an act that would immediately alienate from it the support of a large and influential part of the French people, without whose assistance the army was foredoomed to defeat and the Government itself to destruction in the impending conflict. French diplomacy in this matter was not directed by the personal feelings of any individual having in view ecclesiastical interests, but by common sense and in the interest of the whole French nation.

Nor was it necessary that the Regent should yield on the Roman question---Italy would have soon joined with France had not events moved with such surprising rapidity---had not the first news from the seat of war put a stop to all further negotiations.(59)

The Empress rarely, if ever, presumed to take anything more than a sentimental interest in questions of international politics---affairs always of deep study and concern with the Emperor. Not but that she was always greatly interested in questions that related to the general welfare of the Empire, and was able to grasp their content and was quick to perceive its significance, and could discuss with intelligence and eloquence the policy of the Government, or of its adversaries, whether domestic or foreign. But her political opinions, however strong her feelings, were seldom expressed under a sense of responsibility; this she was willing to leave with the Emperor and his Ministers.

The Empress occupied herself with domestic concerns rather than with foreign affairs, and the exterior policies of the Government and party politics interested her very much less than political economy, or the application of the discoveries of science to useful ends; for she fully believed, with Bentham, that the aim and the justification of a Government should be "the happiness of the greatest number." She therefore most heartily sympathized and cooperated with the Emperor in all his plans for the uplifting of the poor, and especially of the artisan classes. The strong desire her Majesty still has, as she has always had, to level things up, I could not more aptly illustrate than by recounting a little incident that occurred not long ago at Farnborough. One day, after reference had been made to the immense fortunes of the few and the penury of the many, the Empress remarked: "Under existing social conditions, no matter how much our knowledge and control over the forces of nature are increased, the result seems only to increase the startling inequalities in the distribution of the earnings of labor, and to multiply and intensify class distinctions. Is a remedy for this state of things never going to be found? And if not, what must be the consequences?

As it was not very easy to answer these questions, I said: "I once took the liberty, half in jest, to tell the Emperor that his sympathies seemed to me to be socialistic. Whereupon, to my surprise, he frankly admitted that they were. And I think I may infer, from what your Majesty has just said, that your own sympathies have always been, like those of the Emperor, with the masses, and not with the classes. Indeed, your idea of the object of Government would appear to scarcely differ from that of Abraham Lincoln, whose conception of a 'Republic' was, 'that form and substance of government the leading object of which is to elevate the condition of men, to lift artificial weights from all shoulders, to clear the path of laudable pursuit for all, and to afford all an unfettered start and a fair chance in the race of life.' "

Hesitating for a moment, with a serious expression on her face, and speaking very slowly, the Empress said: "Do you know that the Emperor and I, in our time, were the only real socialists in France? " And then, turning to M. P----, who stood near her, she said, "Is not this true? " And the reply was, "Yes."

As the consort of the Emperor, the Empress was always ready to espouse and defend his public policy, and, it must be admitted, with an ardor that sometimes led her to be more royalist than the King. But to represent and give distinction to the Imperial Government on its social side, was the chief object of her life.

As Regent she was the faithful executor of the will of the Emperor and of the policy of her Councilors. When the catastrophe came she stood ''like a soldier at his post."

No two persons, in certain respects, could be more unlike than were the Emperor and the Empress. The Emperor would do nothing except after long reflection, and kept his opinions carefully to himself. The Empress, on the other hand, expressed herself on every subject with absolute freedom, and was inclined to act impulsively. She was aware of this herself, and has often been heard to say, after talking freely---too freely, "Don't tell the Emperor what I have said, for I should get a scolding." Her sympathies were strong and her temperament emotional. The Emperor could occasionally be moved by some new fact to do what he had not proposed to do, but he never permitted himself to be carried away by his feelings, or by the enthusiasm of others.

That the Empress resented with more indignation than the Emperor himself the candidature of Prince Leopold, is doubtless true; and that, when war was declared, she was optimistic, and enthusiastic even, is also true. Why should she not have been? Was she not a woman? Could she witness without emotion the immense wave of patriotic sentiment which then swept over France? Great injustice has been done the Empress by holding her to blame for feelings which she shared with every Frenchman worthy of the name.

The Empress had no personal political ambition. She was only ambitious for her husband and for her son. She was the very reverse of what is called a political woman; she was too sincere, candid, unreserved, and sympathetic for such a rôle. Her moral personality was too distinctly and too strongly pronounced to permit her to play a part in which dissimulation and flexibility are the indispensable conditions of success. She was in all respects a most womanly woman---womanly but not weak, for her powers of physical endurance and her moral courage are alike remarkable---and was very often so directed by the impulses of her heart as to make light of reasons of State even in the most serious circumstances.

Probably few persons remember that, after the condemnation of Orsini and the authors of the massacre in front of the Opera House, the Empress, touched with pity for her would-be assassins, spared no effort to induce the Emperor to pardon them. In fact, she appealed to every one about her to aid her, until one day the Minister of the Interior, having heard of some new move she had made in order to obtain a reprieve, went to her and said, almost brutally, "Madame, you do not know how much annoyance your silly sentimentalism is causing us. Let us attend to our business, and occupy yourself with your own affairs."

And this reminds me of an incident related by M. Granier de Cassagnac, which is especially interesting as well as pertinent to our subject.

It will be remembered, perhaps, that the asylum offered by the English Government to a number of persons implicated in the Orsini affair, was so resented by the French people that they were for a time disposed to regard it as an unfriendly act, and that the Emperor himself took this matter to heart very seriously.

One evening, having sent for M. de Cassagnac, his Majesty said to him: "I cannot tolerate such a violation of the right of asylum, which should assure the liberty of the individual and of political opinion; but under the cover of which plots against the security of neighboring countries, and projects for the murder of sovereigns, and those sovereigns allies, should not be permitted. I have dictated to the Empress the outlines of an article on this subject, which we must make up and publish in the form of a pamphlet."

As the Emperor handed the paper to the narrator of the incident, the Empress entered the room.

"Monsieur de Cassagnac," said she, "if you take that memorandum, it must be on condition that you return it to me. In the first place, as it was written hastily at the Emperor's dictation, I am not quite sure that it is correctly written. And, furthermore, since I have no constitutional right which authorizes me to intervene in public affairs, I do not wish to be accused, should the paper be lost, of having pushed the Emperor into the very ticklish path he is about to enter." And then, laughing, she added: "Should you attach any value to my handwriting, I promise to give you another autograph, which I will make an effort to write with sufficient correctness to defy your criticism."

Looking over the documents which were then submitted to him, M. de Cassagnac remarked: "To say that the right of asylum was intended to protect the opinion of refugees, and not their crimes, is to maintain a doctrine that is incontestable; but should the English Government continue to extend, until it includes assassination, the protection due only to political opinion, the Government of the Emperor cannot be satisfied with the rôle of a professor of morals, even were he in the right. The more reasonable, moderate, and legitimate the concessions demanded by France are, the more necessary it is, it seems to me, to make it plain in the pamphlet, that in the case of a refusal we shall be obliged to consider what measures should be taken."

"Oh, Monsieur de Cassagnac," cried out the Empress with vivacity, "don't push the Emperor, into a war, I beg of you!"

The Emperor said nothing.

"Madame," replied M. de Cassagnac, "France should be protected. To maintain its dignity, its security, the future of its institutions, of which the dynasty is a part, is the very first duty of the Government."

"Oh, no, no! " interrupted the Empress; "don't say that. England was our faithful ally in the East. A touch of unreasonableness has for the moment led astray the English mind, ordinarily so just. Good sense and equity will in the end carry the day. But don't push the Emperor into a war!"

Only a few months later the Queen of England and Prince Albert, with the Prince of Wales, were the guests of the Emperor and the Empress in the harbor of Cherbourg. To the cordial welcome extended by the Emperor to his royal visitors, Prince Albert responded

"Your Majesty knows the sentiments of the Queen towards you and the Empress, and I have no occasion to remind you of them. You know also that a good understanding between our two countries is the constant object of her desires, as it is of yours. The Queen is therefore doubly happy to have the opportunity, by her presence here at this time, of allying herself with you, Sire, in the endeavor to strengthen as much as possible the bonds of friendship between the two nations. This friendship is the foundation of their mutual prosperity."

No, the Empress was never a political woman, but always was, and is, a very womanly woman, to whom violence, and war especially, is most repugnant.

That she was not the woman she has been represented to be, anxious to govern, reactionary in her opinions, and opposed in principle to the evolution of the "liberal Empire," but was, on the contrary, in full sympathy with the Emperor in all his generous political ideas and aspirations, and, above and beyond all the rest, a devoted wife and mother, there is abundant evidence.

On the 23d of October, 1869, at the time when, on account of the violence of the irreconcilable Opposition, the question had been raised of abandoning the liberal Empire and returning to the régime of "personal government," the Empress wrote to the Emperor from Cairo, Egypt as follows:

"I am greatly preoccupied by the turn public opinion has taken with you. God grant that everything may go on tranquilly and wisely, without folly on the one side or a jerk on the other, and that order may be maintained without the use of force; for the day after the victory is often difficult-more difficult than the day before it."(60) And again, in a remarkable letter written on the Nile, four days later, in reply to a despatch from the Emperor announcing that the Opposition had abandoned the project of making a great public demonstration in Paris on October 26th, she says:

"I was greatly troubled about the doings of yesterday, and to know that you were in Paris without me; but everything passed off well, as I see by your despatch. . . .  I think, in spite of all, you should not be discouraged, but should go forward in the way you have inaugurated. It is well to keep faith with respect to the concessions granted; this every one believes and admits. I hope, then, that your speech will be in this sense. The more need there may be of force later on, the more necessary it is to prove to the country that these are ideas, and not expedients. I am far away, and quite too ignorant of what has happened since my departure to speak in this way; but I am thoroughly convinced that the orderly progress of ideas is the veritable force. I do not like sudden movements and I am persuaded that a coup d'État cannot be made twice in the same reign. I am talking at random, and preaching to a convert who knows a great deal more about the subject than I do. But I must say something, were it only to prove what you know, that my heart is with you both, and that if, when everything about me is quiet, my vagabond spirit loves to roam about in space, it is close by you both that I love to be in times of disquietude and anxiety . . . . I have no wish to remember anything in my life that may have blighted the bright colors of my illusions, . . but I live again in my son, and I feel that my real joys are to be those which shall come to my own heart only after they have passed through his heart."(61)

If the Empress ever declared herself in favor of the Franco-German War, it was not from political considerations, but for sentimental reasons, and a natural fondness for heroic solutions. She was at this time free from political responsibilities; when these came, she knew how to act with a prudence and a dignity as remarkable, perhaps, as it may have been unexpected by those who were not aware of the excellent good sense, the instinctive savoir faire that lay concealed beneath those superficial and more brilliant qualities for which she had long been so conspicuous and so famous.

But in July, 1870, her Majesty's opinions, whatever they may have been or might have been with respect to the necessity or the expediency of a war with Prussia, could have had but very little weight after Bismarck had audaciously in the name of his King, "slapped the cheek of France"---after this calculated insult to the Imperial Government and the French people.

The absurdity of attributing to the Empress a desire to perpetuate her Regency must be evident to every one familiar with the facts related in this chapter. And that such a desire would have been an unnatural one, is made sufficiently clear by the whole tenor of her life during the past twenty-five years. Not only has she persistently refused to assume any sort of leadership in contemporary French politics, but, conscious of the rectitude of her official conduct, whether as consort of the Emperor or as Regent, has declined even to attempt to justify herself before the world.

It is only a few weeks since that, having read certain passages in the "Memoirs" of the late General Trochu, recently published, derogatory to the Emperor and the Empress, I sent a letter to the Gaulois and a number of the Paris journals, in which I corrected the statements made by General Trochu with respect to two or three matters that came within my own knowledge. On my sending to her Majesty a copy of this communication to the Paris press, with a letter explaining the circumstances of the case and the motives that had led me to write it, I received from her the following answer:

" FARNBOROUGH HILL, FARNBOROUGH HANTS
"October 22, 1896.

"My DEAR DOCTOR:

"I am profoundly touched by your letter. I know what your sentiments are, and what they always have been, towards my family.

"I appreciate the motives that have caused you to act---detaching, as you say, an extract from your 'Memoirs' ---in the matter of the noise that is being made to-day over the name of General Trochu.

"You will understand also, I hope, that I am quite resolved to reply to nothing, and to contradict nothing, however painful it may be to me. A war of recrimination and justification is repugnant to me. I have faith to believe that to the Emperor first, and to me, perhaps (?), Time will do justice.

"Believe, dear Doctor, in my very kind sentiments,

"EUGÉNIE"

How pathetic that interrogation "perhaps (?) "!

Poor Empress! Yes, Time will do you justice. You have happily already lived to see that your heroism, your self-sacrifice, your sorrows, have secured to you the admiration and sympathy of the world---the world that will soon forget your enemies and all their works, and remember you for centuries to come as one of the most beautiful and sympathetic figures that have sat upon a throne, as one whose story is the sum of all the romance and tragedy of a woman's life.

And the Emperor---whose favorite saying it was that everything will come to him who knows how to wait---Time will do, is now doing, him justice also.

"Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small."