between D’Orsay and Louis Napoleon during his days of exile in England.
Napoleon III. was the son of Louis Napoleon, King of Holland and his
wife Hortense, whom Lady Blessington met in Italy. Of this meeting the
following entry from Lady Blessington’s Journal, dated Rome, March 1828,
is a quite interesting account:—
“Though prepared to meet in Hortense Bonaparte, ex-Queen of Holland, a
woman possessed of no ordinary powers of captivation, she has, I confess,
far exceeded my expectations. I have seen her frequently; and spent two
hours yesterday in her society. Never did time fly with greater rapidity
than while listening to her conversation, and hearing her sing those
charming little French _romances_, written and composed by herself,
which, though I had always admired them, never previously struck me as
being so expressive and graceful as they now prove to be. Hortense, or
the Duchesse de St Leu, as she is at present styled, is of the middle
stature, slight and well formed; her feet and ankles remarkably fine;
and her whole _tournure_ graceful, and distinguished. Her complexion and
hair are fair, and her countenance is peculiarly expressive; its habitual
character being mild and pensive, until animated by conversation, when
it becomes arch and _spirituelle_. I know not that I ever encountered a
person with so fine a tact, or so quick an apprehension, as the Duchesse
de St Leu: these give her the power of rapidly forming an appreciation
of those with whom she comes in contact; and of suiting the subjects of
conversation to their tastes and comprehensions. Thus, with the grave
she is serious, with the lively gay; and with the scientific, she only
permits just a sufficient extent of her own _savoir_ to be revealed to
encourage the development of theirs. She is, in fact, ‘all things to all
men,’ without at the same time losing a single portion of her own natural
character; a peculiarity of which seems to be, the desire, as well as the
power, of sending away all who approach her satisfied with themselves,
and delighted with her. Yet there is no unworthy concession of opinions
made, or tacit acquiescence yielded to conciliate popularity; she assents
to, or dissents from, the sentiments of others, with a mildness and good
sense that gratifies those with whom she coincides, or disarms those from
whom she differs. The only flattery she condescends to practise is that
most refined and delicate of all, the listening with marked attention to
the observations of those with whom she converses; and this tacit symptom
of respect to others is not more the result of an extreme politeness,
than of a fine nature, attentive to the feelings of those around her.…
“It is not often that a woman so accomplished unites the more solid
attraction of a highly-cultivated mind: yet in Hortense this is the
case; for, though a perfect musician, a most successful amateur in
drawing, and mistress of three languages, she is well read in history
and _belles-lettres_; has an elementary knowledge of the sciences, and
a general acquaintance with the works of the most esteemed authors
of ancient and modern times. Her remarks denote an acute perception,
and a superior understanding; and are delivered with such a perfect
freedom from all assumption of the self-conceit of a _bas-bleu_, or the
dictatorial style of one accustomed to command attention, that they
acquire an additional charm from the modest grace with which they are
uttered.…
“She showed me her diamonds yesterday, and some of them are magnificent,
particularly the necklace presented to the Empress Josephine by the city
of Paris. It is a _rivière_ of large diamonds, of such immense value
that none but a sovereign, or some of our own princely nobility, could
become the purchaser. Her other diamonds are very fine, and consist of
many _parures_, some presented to her as Queen of Holland; and others
bequeathed to her, with the necklace, by her mother. Her bed, furniture,
and toilette service of gilt plate, are very magnificent, and are the
same that served her in her days of regal state. The arrangement of her
apartments indicates a faultless taste, uniting elegance and comfort
with grandeur. She has some fine portraits of Napoleon and Josephine in
her possession: on our contemplating them, she referred to her mother
with as much sensibility as if her death had been recent.
“Prince Louis Bonaparte lives with his mother, and never did I witness
a more devoted attachment than subsists between them. He is a fine,
high-spirited youth, admirably well educated, and highly accomplished,
uniting to the gallant bearing of a soldier all the politeness of a
_preux chevalier_; but how could he be otherwise, brought up with such
a mother? Prince Louis Bonaparte is much beloved and esteemed by all
who know him, and is said to resemble his uncle, the Prince Eugène
Beauharnois (_sic_), no less in person than in mind; possessing his
generous nature, personal courage, and high sense of honour.”
It is not necessary to follow in any detail the career of Louis Napoleon,
so we will skip on to the year 1840, when on 6th August he made his
absurd descent upon France, landing at Boulogne with about sixty
followers.
Lord Malmesbury, who was often a visitor at Gore House, mentions a
curious little happening.
“_7th August._—News arrived this morning of Louis Napoleon having landed
yesterday morning at Boulogne with fifty followers. None of the soldiers,
however, having joined him, the attempt totally failed, and he and most
of those who accompanied him were taken. This explains an expression
he used to me two evenings ago. He was standing on the steps of Lady
Blessington’s house after a party, wrapped up in a cloak, with Persigny
by him, and I observed to them: ‘You look like two conspirators,’ upon
which he answered: ‘You may be nearer right than you think.’”
Disraeli writes on the same day:—
“The morning papers publish two editions, and Louis Napoleon, who
last year at Bulwer’s nearly drowned us by his bad rowing, has now
upset himself at Boulogne. Never was anything so rash and crude to all
appearances as this ‘invasion,’ for he was joined by no one. A fine house
in Carlton Gardens, his Arabian horses, and excellent cook was hardly
worse than his present situation.”
He was captured, tried, condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and
consigned to the fortress of Ham, where he remained for five years, and
then escaped to England.
On August 2nd, 1840, Planché relates that he went between ten and eleven
to Gore House, where there had been a small dinner party, of which four
men had stayed on, Lord Nugent, “Poodle” Byng, and two strangers. “The
youngest immediately engaged my attention. It was the fashion in that
day to wear black satin kerchiefs for evening dress; and that of the
gentleman in question was fastened by a large spread eagle in diamonds,
clutching a thunderbolt of rubies. There was but one man in England at
that period who, without the impeachment of coxcombry, could have sported
so magnificent a jewel; and, though I had never to my knowledge seen him
before, I felt convinced that he could be no other than Prince Louis
Napoleon. Such was the fact; and his companion was Count Montholon.”
Planché walked home with Nugent and Byng, one of whom remarked: “What
could Louis Napoleon mean by asking us to dine with him this day
twelvemonths at the Tuileries?” The ill-starred landing at Boulogne a few
days later explained the mystery.
But earlier in this same year (1840), D’Orsay had supported the Prince in
another adventure.
For many years a peculiar Count Léon had been looked on as one of
the curiosities of Paris; in appearance he was an enlarged replica
of Napoleon the Great, which was not surprising seeing that he was
reputed—probably wrongly—to be his son by the Polish Countess Walewska.
Napoleon provided for the education of his offspring, who in 1830
attained the dignity of a colonelcy in the Legion of the Garde Nationale.
In February 1840, Count Léon came over to London, it being absurdly
stated afterward that he had been entrusted by the Tuileries with the
pleasing duty of removing Louis Napoleon.
The Prince refused to receive the Count, from whom after some heated
correspondence he received a challenge, borne by Lieutenant-Colonel
Ratcliffe. Léon refused to engage with swords, so pistols were decided
upon; the hour chosen being seven o’clock on the morning of 3rd March,
and the place Wimbledon Common. Napoleon was accompanied by D’Orsay and
Colonel Parquin. It was not until the parties were on the ground that
Count Léon raised the difficulty about the weapons to be used, and the
delay caused by the discussion on the point gave time to the authorities
to arrive and put an end to the contemplated breach of the peace. The
upshot of this fiasco was an appearance at Bow Street. Before the Court
proceeded to deal with the ordinary night charges, Prince Louis and Count
Léon were charged before Mr Jardine with having attempted a breach of the
peace by fighting a duel; Ratcliffe, Parquin, D’Orsay, and Martial Kien,
a servant, were brought in as being aiders and abettors. They were all
“bound over,” Mr Joshua Bates, of Baring Brothers, becoming surety for
Prince Louis and Colonel Parquin, and the Honourable Francis Baring for
D’Orsay. So ended the encounter.
On January 13th, 1841, Napoleon wrote from Ham to Lady Blessington, in
reply to a letter from her:—
“I am very grateful for your remembrance, and I think with grief that
none of your previous letters have reached me. I have received from Gore
House only one letter, from Count d’Orsay, which I hastened to answer
when I was at the Conciergerie. I bitterly regret that my letter was
intercepted, for in it I expressed all the gratitude at the interest he
took in my misfortunes.… My thoughts often wander to the place where you
live, and I recall with pleasure the time I have passed in your amiable
society, which the Count d’Orsay still brightens with his frank and
_spirituel_ gaiety.”
On the 26th of May 1846, there was gathered together a gay dinner-party
at Gore House, among those assembled, beside the host and hostess, being
Landor and John Forster. A message was brought in to D’Orsay that a
person, who preferred not to give his name, desired to see him. To the
amazement of D’Orsay the unknown turned out to be Louis Napoleon, just
landed after his escape from Ham. He came in and entertained the party
with a vivacious account of his adventures.
Serjeant Ballantine describes a curious visit paid to him at his chambers
in June 1847 by Louis Napoleon and D’Orsay, which certainly strengthens
the statements made by others that the dandy was upon very intimate
terms with the prince. The visit was concerned with some of Napoleon’s
money-raising endeavours, which had resulted in his being swindled by
a rascally bill-discounter, but in which the Serjeant could not assist
to right the wrong. Ballantine dubs D’Orsay, “the prince of dandies,”
adding that he “never saw a man who in personal qualities surpassed
him”; continuing, he “was courteous to everyone, and kindly. He put the
companions of his own sex perfectly at their ease, and delighted them
with his varied conversation, and I never saw anyone whose manner to
ladies was more pleasing and deferential.”
Louis Philippe toppled over; a Republic was set up in February 1848,
and Napoleon promptly and effectively took advantage of the situation
thus created to push himself to the front. In December of the same year
he was elected President. The oath that he swore on the occasion was:
“In the presence of God and before the French people represented by the
National Assembly, I swear to remain faithful to the Democratic Republic,
one and indivisible, and to fulfil all the duties imposed on me by the
Constitution.” And on the 2nd of December 1851, he dissolved the said
Assembly, upset the Republic, and shortly became Napoleon III, Emperor of
the French.
Among Napoleon’s English advisers was Albany Fonblanque, who through
D’Orsay sent him some suggestions as to the policy it would be wise for
the President of the French Republic to pursue. How far that advice
promised to produce fruit, the following letter shows:—
“GORE HOUSE, _26th January 1849_.
“MON CHER FONBLANQUE,—J’espère que vous avez vu que notre
conseil à été écouté; les réductions dans l’armée et la marine
sont très fortes, et Napoleon à éprouvé, je vous assure, une
grande opposition pour en arriver là. L’armée, qui était en
1845 de 502,196 hommes et de 100, 432 horses, sera réduite
en 1849 à 380,824 hommes et 92,410 chevaux. Le Budget de la
Marine est diminué de vingt deux millions et plus; la flotte en
activité est réduite à dix vaisseaux de ligne, huit frégates,
etc.—et il y a aussi une grande réduction dans les travaux des
arsenaux. Tout cela devrait plaire à John Bull et à Cobden.
Je vous promets que ces réductions n’en resteront pas là;
mais il faut considérer la difficulté qu’il y a de toucher
aux joujoux des enfants français, car chez nous l’armée est
l’objet principal; chez vous ce n’est qu’un accessoire. Votre
affectionné,
“D’ORSAY.”
Madden, in his description of this “man-mystery,” for once in a way is
graphic. “I watched his pale, corpse-like, imperturbable features, not
many months since, for a period of three hours. I saw eighty thousand men
in arms pass before him, and I never observed a change in his countenance
or an expression in his look which would enable the bystander to say
whether he was pleased or otherwise at the stirring scene.… He did not
speak to those around him, except at very long intervals, and then with
an air of _nonchalance_, of _ennui_ and eternal occupation with self;
he rarely spoke a syllable to his uncle, Jérôme Bonaparte, who was on
horseback somewhat behind him.… He gave me the idea of a man who had
a perfect reliance on himself, and a feeling of complete control over
those around him. But there was a weary look about him, an aspect of
excessive watchfulness, an appearance of want of sleep, of over-work,
of over-indulgence, too, that gives an air of exhaustion to face and
form, and leaves an impression on the mind of a close observer that the
machine of the body will break down soon, and suddenly—or the mind will
give way—under the pressure of pent-up thoughts and energies eternally
in action, and never suffered to be observed or noticed by friends or
followers.”
[Illustration: NAPOLEON III
(_By D’Orsay_)
[TO FACE PAGE 206]
Louis Napoleon is, as everybody knows, the Colonel Albert who plays so
large a part in Lord Beaconsfield’s unjustly neglected _Endymion_, quite
one of the most delightful of his novels, although it contains that
strange caricature of Thackeray in the grotesque personage of St Barbe.
Says “Colonel Albert”:—“… I am the child of destiny. That destiny will
again place me on the throne of my fathers. That is as certain as I am
now speaking to you. But destiny for its fulfilment ordains action. Its
decrees are inexorable, but they are obscure, and the being whose career
it directs is as a man travelling in a dark night; he reaches his goal
even without the aid of stars and moon.”
Louis Napoleon emerged from the dark night of his exile and sat in the
limelight that beats upon a throne, and he achieved his destiny without
accepting the aid or advice of his friend, D’Orsay. He did not trust the
latter with his counsels and could scarcely have been expected to ask him
to accompany him to France. D’Orsay would have been the central figure;
the Prince of the Dandies would have basked in the popularity which the
future Emperor of the French knew he must focus upon himself.
After his escape to London from Ham, Louis Napoleon, however, does seem
to have consulted with D’Orsay, and acting upon his advice to have
written to the French Ambassador to the Court of St James, stating that
it was his intention to settle down quietly as a private individual;
which statement was doubtless taken for what it was worth. D’Orsay
may have helped, also, toward Napoleon’s election as President by
interesting friends in his cause, but of the schemes upon the empty
imperial throne D’Orsay appears to have been ignorant. Indeed, he went
so far as to express his opinion of the _coup d’état_, that “it is the
greatest political swindle that ever has been practised in the world!”
The following letter to Landor from Lady Blessington is interesting:—
“GORE HOUSE, _28th February 1848_.
“I will not admit that the eruption of the Parisian volcano has
brought out only cinders from your brain, _au contraire_, the
lava is glowing and full of fire—your honest indignation has
been ignited and has sent forth a bright flame.
“It gave me great pleasure to see your handwriting again, for
I had thought it long since I had heard from you. I saw it
stated to-day in the _Daily News_ that Count d’Orsay had set
out for Paris with Prince Louis. This report is wholly untrue.
Prince Louis has gone to Paris alone. Here no one pities
Louis Philippe, nor has the report of his death mitigated the
indignation excited against him. His family are to be pitied,
for I believe they were not implicated in his crooked policy.
Seldom has vengeance so rapidly overtaken guilt.”
Still more interesting this from Landor to Lady Blessington, written
about a year later, on 9th January 1849—
“Possibly you may never have seen the two articles I enclose. I
inserted in the _Examiner_ another, deprecating the anxieties
which a truly patriotic and, in my opinion, a singularly wise
man, was about to encounter, in accepting the Presidency of
France. Necessity will compel him to assume the Imperial Power,
to which the voice of the army and people will call him.
“You know (who know not only my writings, but my heart) how
little I care for station. I may therefore tell you safely,
that I feel a great interest, a great anxiety, for the welfare
of Louis Napoleon. I told him if ever he were again in prison,
I would visit him there; but never, if he were upon a throne,
would I come near him. He is the only man living who would
adorn one, but thrones are my aversion and abhorrence. France,
I fear, can exist in no other condition. Her public men are
greatly more able than ours, but they have less integrity.
Every Frenchman is by nature an intriguer. It was not always
so, to the same extent; but nature is modified, and even
changed, by circumstances. Even garden statues take their form
from clay.
“God protect the virtuous Louis Napoleon, and prolong in
happiness the days of my dear, kind friend, Lady Blessington.
“W. S. L.”
“I wrote a short letter to the President, and not of
congratulation. May he find many friends as disinterested and
sincere.”
Wellington also judged Napoleon’s rise to power in France as propitious,
and wrote to D’Orsay on 9th April 1849:—“_Je me réjouis de la prospérité
de la France et du succès de M. le Président de la République. Tout tend
vers la permanence de la paix de l’Europe qui est nécessaire pour le
bonheur de chacun. Votre ami très devoué._
“WELLINGTON.”
Though D’Orsay was not Napoleon’s active ally, he watched his progress
with interest, and, despite the opinion he held of the means employed,
apparently with approbation also up to a point. To Madden on the first
day of the Presidential election, a Sunday—but really we must here have
Madden’s own words:—“He came to my house before church-time, and diverted
me from graver duties, to listen to his confident anticipations of the
result of that memorable day. ‘Think,’ said he, ‘what is the ordinary
November weather in Paris: and here is a beautiful day. I have watched
the mercury in my garden. I have seen where is the wind, and I tell you,
that on Paris is what they will call the sun of Austerlitz. To-morrow you
shall hear that, while we are now talking, they vote for him with almost
one mind, and that he has the absolute majority.’”
And later, he wrote to Richard Lane, the artist: “_Rely upon it, he
will do more for France than any sovereign has done for the last two
centuries, if only they give him time._”
Even previous to this exciting period, at the time of the Boulogne
descent, Lady Blessington was shedding ink in the defence of D’Orsay;
writing to Henry Bulwer:—
“GORE HOUSE, _17th September 1840_.
“I am never surprised at evil reports, however unfounded, still
less so at any acts of friendship and manliness on your part.…
Alfred is at Doncaster, but he charges me to authorise you to
contradict, in the most positive terms, the reports about his
having participated in, or even known, of the intentions of
the Prince Louis. Indeed, had he suspected them, he would have
used every effort in his power to dissuade him from putting
them into execution. Alfred, as well as I, entertain the
sincerest regard for the Prince, with whom, for fourteen years,
we have been on terms of intimacy; but of his plans we knew no
more than you did. Alfred by no means wishes to conceal his
attachment to the Prince, and still less that any exculpation
of himself should in any way reflect on him; but who so well as
you, whose tact and delicacy are equal to your good-nature, can
fulfil the service to Alfred that we require?
“Lady C⸺ [15] writes to me that _I_, too, am mixed up in the
reports. But I defy the malice of my greatest enemy to prove
that I ever dreamt of the Prince’s intentions or plans.”
Both D’Orsay and Lady Blessington had to do with Napoleon as Emperor.
D’Orsay, to a certain extent, tried to run both with the fox and with
the hounds, for, in 1841, an attempt was made to procure for him the
appointment of Secretary to the French Embassy in London. The Count St
Aulaire was then Ambassador, and much influence was brought to bear upon
him in this matter.
Among Lady Blessington’s papers was found the following memorandum by
her, which throws considerable light upon this affair:—
“With regard to the intentions relative to our Count, there
is not even a shadow of truth in them. Alfred never was
presented here at Court, and never would, though I, as well as
his other friends, urged it: his motive (for declining) being,
never having left his name at any of the French Ambassadors of
Louis Philippe (not even at Count Sebastiani’s, a connection
of his own) or at Marshal Soult’s, also nearly connected with
his family, he could not ask to be presented at Court by the
French Ambassador, and did not think it right to be presented
by anyone else … and the etiquette of not having been engaged
to meet the Queen, unless previously presented at Court, is too
well known to admit of any mistake.… I enter into these details
merely to show the utter falsehoods which have been listened
to against Alfred. Now with regard to his creditors, his
embarrassments have been greatly exaggerated; and when the sale
of the northern estates in Ireland shall have been effected,
which must be within a year, he will be released from all his
difficulties.[16] In the meantime he has arranged matters, by
getting time from his creditors. So that all the fuss made by
the nomination, being only sought as a protection from them,
falls to the ground.… I mention all these facts to show how
ill Alfred has been treated. If the appointment in London is
still deemed impracticable, why should not they offer him the
secretaryship at Madrid, which is vacant?
“Alfred entrusted the affair (of the appointment) to M⸺ and
W⸺. He received positive assurances from both that he would
receive an appointment in the French Embassy here, and that
it was only necessary, as a mere matter of etiquette, that
St Aulaire was to ask for his nomination to have it granted.
The assurances were so positive that he could not doubt them,
and he accordingly acted on them. The highest eulogies on
Alfred’s abilities and power of rendering service to the French
Government were voluntarily pronounced to St Aulaire by Lord
B⸺, the Duke of B⸺, and other persons of distinction. M. St
Aulaire, not satisfied with these honourable testimonies,
consulted a _coterie_ of foolish women, and listening to their
malicious gossiping, he concluded that the nomination would not
be popular in London, and so was afraid to ask for it.