CHAPTER XIX

IF ORSINI'S BOMB HAD NOT FAILED TO DESTROY NAPOLEON III

Edward A. Freeman wrote, after the fall of the second Bonaparte empire:

"The work of Richelieu is utterly undone, the work of Henry II and Louis

XIV is partially undone; the Rhine now neither crosses nor waters a

single rood of French ground. As it was in the first beginnings of

northern European history, so it is now; Germany lies on both sides of

the German river." This was not by any means the whole of the work

wrought by that adventurer on an imperial throne, Napoleon III, through

his disastrous war against a united Germany. He accomplished also the

slaughter of five hundred thousand men, and the impoverishment of

millions. He sounded the death knell of monarchical adventuring in

France, which was indeed one good result of the Napoleonic _debacle_,

but he also fastened militarism, in the form of excessive and

progressively increasing peace armaments, upon Europe, and magnified

public debts and taxation to the limit of endurance.

Every event here mentioned was a direct development, not of Napoleon

III's original seizure of the French throne, but of the final years, and

the eventual overthrow of his power--the overthrow itself due to the

Franco-Prussian war. A single event, criminal in its character, might

have prevented these results. That great benefits sometimes eventuate

from men's crimes is no news, and no longer a marvel, to the

philosopher, who, when good comes of evil, is apt to repeat the words,

"God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform."

The evil deed to which I have here referred, which would have saved the

lives of five hundred thousand people and left the river Rhine still

washing the confines of France, was the aiming of Orsini's bomb on the

evening of the 14th of January, 1858. This bomb was designed to take the

life of the emperor of the French. If the attempt had succeeded, and

Napoleon had died as Alexander II of Russia and King Humbert of Italy

afterward died, there would have been no Franco-German war. The throne

of the baby Napoleon IV, who was then less than two years old, very

likely would not have endured long; but whether the third republic had

immediately arisen, or whether the Orleans Bourbons had been restored to

the throne, it would have been found easy to preserve the peace with

Prussia and Germany.

For Napoleon III deliberately, and with malignant ingenuity, provoked

war with Germany in 1870. There is now no doubt that Bismarck desired

such a war. He afterward confessed that he deceived the aged King

William in such a way that all chance of peace at Ems was lost. But

nevertheless the provocation of Napoleon was direct and deliberate.

His grievance was that the Hohenzollern prince, Leopold, had consented

to become a candidate for the vacant throne of Spain. King William

withdrew Prince Leopold's candidature. This really destroyed Napoleon's

pretext for bringing on a war. But he desired a foreign war in order to

forestall revolutionary opposition at home, which threatened to become

irresistible. Napoleon thereupon caused his ambassador, Benedetti,

insolently, and in a manner quite unbearable, to demand personally from

King William a declaration that no Hohenzollern should ever be

permitted to become king of Spain. King William treated this insolence

as it deserved, and France, thereupon, declared war against Prussia.

What followed, the world knows. The consequences were tremendous. France

was maimed of Alsace and Lorraine. Half a million of the flower of the

manhood of both nations perished. France taxed herself with five

millions of francs of indemnity, and though she has paid the debt to

Germany, she still owes it to her own citizens. The difficulties of

French government and finance were increased prodigiously and

indefinitely by the war and the empire's delinquencies.

And all as a result contingent upon the failure of a criminal act!

Felice Orsini meant to kill Napoleon III, and he and his two companions

did kill ten innocent persons, and did wound one hundred and fifty

others. Yet the man for whom their bombs were intended--the adventurer

who had once been their comrade as a member of the Italian secret

society, the Carbonari, but who had afterward betrayed the cause of

Italian independence by leading an army into the peninsula and restoring

the papal power--escaped unharmed, to wind the trail of his infamous

conspiracies through European politics for twelve years longer. If the

bomb had done its direful work, one man, utterly without character or

conscience, would have died, and five hundred thousand men, mostly

honest, good and true, would have lived. As it happened, the one man was

spared, to make a vast holocaust of human life twelve years later.

It is, indeed, strange that the averting of a single crime may sometimes

precipitate a myriad of other crimes.

The Ifs of History · 第 19 / 22 章