The Comedy & Tragedy of the Second Empire. Edward Legge

      The Maréchale d’Albuféra gave the Duchesse a specimen of the jokes made about the Empress. The Maréchale, after noting that “the Empress has blue eyes, and paints her eyebrows and eyelashes black,” asked, “Do you know why the Empress Eugénie is the best horsewoman in France? Because she leapt over the barrière du Trône! This is one of the jokes with which we amuse ourselves here.”

      The Duchesse, as a talented diplomatist, noted: “The Empress, until now, decides nothing for herself. She submits everything to the Emperor, even as to the dress which she ought to wear.”

      On December 7, 1860, the Duchesse wrote:

      The Empress’s annoyance with Fould arose from two causes. When the Duc d’Albe came to see him about the funeral of his wife [the Empress’s sister] Fould replied, “That is a matter for the pompes funèbres.”

      The Empress wanted to sell some of her diamonds for “Peter’s Pence.” Fould heard of her intention, and told the Emperor of it.[35]

      The foreign Powers did not display particular alacrity in “recognizing” Napoleon III. There seemed to be much curiosity anent the genealogy of the Emperor’s future bride, and an elaborate statement was issued by the Heralds’ College at Paris, informing all whom it might concern that the lady who was about to become Empress of the French belonged “to the House of Guzman, whose origin dates back to the earliest times of the Spanish Monarchy,” several historians asserting that the Guzmans were the issue of royal blood. “All the branches of this family have played a distinguished part in history. Amongst them were the Dukes of Medina, Las Torres, Medina-Sidonia, and Olivares; the Counts of Montijo, of Téba (or Téva), and of Villaverde; the Marquis de Ardales, the Marquis de la Algera, etc., grandees of Spain. The Duchesse de Téba, Comtesse de Montijo, descends from this last branch. This is not the first time this family has been called to ascend the throne, for in 1633 a daughter of the eighth Duke of Medina-Sidonia married the King of Portugal, Dom Juan IV. of Braganza. The Counts of Montijo have the same arms as the Dukes of Medina-Sidonia; they are near relations, and bear the same name, which is De Guzman.”

CHAPTER V

       CÆSAR’S WIFE

       Table of Contents

      The Empress, to say it for the thousandth time, was incomparably beautiful, “divine,” and, like most pretty women—although a Sovereign, and perhaps because she was a Sovereign—liked people to occupy themselves about her, liked to be courted. “Although romantic, her physical sense did not seek emotions which are foreign to those which the most elementary virtue imposes upon a woman. Her heart was in no wise desirous of sensations such as those which agitate tender and sentimental women.” She was neither “tender” nor “sentimental.” She loved the Emperor. When they were apart, her thoughts were always with him. Her letters prove it. Once, on her fête-day, she wrote: “This year again I have passed to-day far from the Emperor. This makes the day sadder; but I hope to rejoin him very soon.”

      A phrase uttered by the Empress provoked some harsh criticism at the time, and has been, even to this day, quoted against her. It was ungraciously and unjustly assumed that she had special ideas on virtue. But there is really nothing in her remark to justify the implication that she took advantage of that moral freedom which she sometimes apparently seemed disposed to favour.

      It was at the Tuileries that, in the early years of the reign, she was credited with saying:

      One cannot guard young girls too closely, cannot keep them too far from danger and evil. I constantly watch over them and their surroundings. As to married women, that is another matter, and I admit that I am indifferent about them. Their virtues and their weaknesses are to me perfectly equal: that is their business. They can look after themselves. And, besides, have they not their husbands to protect and watch over them?

      Brought up in a milieu quite foreign to any Court (that of Spain always excepted), the Empress, as Sovereign, sometimes lacked that overpowering gravity which women destined to reign are taught from the cradle. She believed sincerely, and without arrière pensée, that it was open to her to enjoy life as she found it. She saw no harm in causing the hearts of men to beat with sentiments which really only flattered her. She was curious to read the souls of others; and the adulation bestowed upon her interested and moved her as a powerful romance would have done. In a word, she was the popular idol. She knew that she was adored, and, receiving all this homage in a perfectly passive manner, felt that she was surrounding herself by friends and devoted admirers, whose sole object was to serve her and to love her. Besides, she was very fond of discussion and argument, and consequently sought the society of men capable, by their esprit, of entertaining her.

      Fully aware that a person cannot charm and fascinate people without taking some little trouble over it, the Empress, before talking to a politician, a savant, an author, or an artist of any kind, “got up” her subjects, and made up her mind as to what she must say in order to take the man captive. Moreover, she was as careful to conquer him by the attractions of her person as by those of her conversation; and when she had captured him, when she felt assured that he belonged to her—“when,” in her own phrase, “she found his homage agreeable and amusing,” when she knew that she had stirred his heart, then, and only then, she checked the pretty poem or the half-finished sketch, and wrote with her own fair hand at the bottom of the page which she had read the one word “Fin!” All this was, no doubt, imprudent, and not in conformity with the gravity which ought to have been hers: it may even have been cruel; but what pretty (and virtuous) woman will rise to blame the Empress? What pretty (and virtuous) woman will dare to say that she has never acted in the same way in the drawing-rooms which she frequents? And what man, not entirely virtuous, but amoureux, has not been the victim of similar feminine perfidies? “Le péché veniel des unes, les bourgeoises; deviendrait-il le péché mortel des autres, les reines?” Shall we be wrong in answering the question in the negative?

      From the outset the Empress displayed no little fickleness, now lavishing attentions upon those who pleased her, then suddenly dismissing them with a word or a gesture, and henceforth ignoring them. She appeared to act upon uncontrollable impulses, the most glaring temperamental defect in her otherwise generous nature. It was one of the “defects of her qualities,” calling less for censure than for record in an impartial narrative. With all this, however, the Empress was loyal and susceptible of great devotion to her friends, and one sought without finding anything approaching egotism or vaingloriousness in her many inconsistencies. When she gave her hand to a woman or a man she was perfectly sincere, and when she sealed a friendship, or an attachment, with some signal mark of her approbation, she did so in all good faith and in all honour. The Emperor deplored, and with reason, the waywardness displayed by his consort in the choice of her friends, and had often to allay the bitter enmities and discontent which she heedlessly, and perhaps unconsciously, aroused.

      The cynical saying of François I., “Souvent femme varie,” might have been applied to the Empress, who was as fickle in her sensations as in her sentiments. She was a Spaniard, and to that fact may be attributed her somewhat eccentric manner. Her character was truly remarkable; she took all sorts of fancies into her head: was very romantic even while remaining practical, prosaic, and mistress of herself. In her romantic disposition the Empress, strange to say, found a certain strength, as letters written by her in the first year of her marriage confirm. One of these epistles may be cited in proof of this view of her character.

      The Empress, much pressed by Mme. de M., one of the leading members of the Legitimist party, to obtain for her husband a diplomatic post, did not rest until she had gratified the applicant’s wishes. It should not be forgotten that the Emperor always cherished the idea of rallying to his dynasty the notabilities of the Faubourg St. Germain, and showed every courtesy to those Legitimists who attended the Court of the Tuileries. It is doubtful if the Empress seconded his efforts in this direction, but in the matter alluded to she certainly laid herself out to do a kindly action.

      “Mme. de M.,” wrote the Empress to the Emperor, “wants