My dramatic faith wavers--Bocage and Dorval reconcile
me with myself--A political trial wherein I deserved to
figure--Downfall of the Laffitte Ministry--Austria and the
Duc de Modena--Maréchal Maison is Ambassador at Vienna--The
story of one of his dispatches--Casimir Périer Prime
Minister--His reception at the Palais-Royal--They make him
the _amende honorable_
We saw what small success _Antony_ obtained at the reading before M.
Crosnier. The consequence was that just as they had not scrupled to
pass my play over for the drama of _Don Carlos ou l'Inquisition_, at
the Théâtre-Français, they did not scruple, at the Porte-Saint-Martin,
to put on all or any sort of piece that came to their hands before
they looked at mine. Poor _Antony!_ It had already been in existence
for close upon two years; but this delay, it must be admitted, instead
of injuring it in any way, was, on the contrary, to turn to very
profitable account. During those two years, events had progressed and
had brought about in France one of those feverish situations wherein
the explosions of eccentric individuals cause immense noise. There
was something sickly and degenerate in the times, which answered to
the monomania of my hero. Meanwhile, as I have said, I had no settled
opinion about my drama; my youthful faith in myself had only held out
for _Henri III._ and _Christine_; but the horrible concert of hootings
which had deafened me at the representation of the latter piece had
shattered that faith to its very foundations. Then the Revolution had
come, which had thrown me into quite another order of ideas, and had
made me believe I was destined to become what in politics is called a
man of action, a belief which had succumbed yet more rapidly than my
literary belief.
Next had taken place the representation of my _Napoléon Bonaparte_,
a work whose worthlessness I recognised with dread in spite of the
fanatical enthusiasm it had excited at its reading. Then came _Antony_,
which inspired no fanaticism nor enthusiasm, neither at its reading
nor at its rehearsal; which, in my inmost conscience, I believed was
destined to close my short series of successes with failure. Were,
perchance, M. Fossier, M. Oudard, M. Picard and M. Deviolaine right?
Would it have been better for me _to go to my office_, as the author
of _la Petite Ville_ and _Deux Philibert_ had advised? It was rather
late in the day to make such reflections as these, just after I had
sent in my resignation definitely. I did not make them any the less for
that, nor did they cheer me any the more on that account. My comfort
was that Crosnier did not seem to set any higher value upon _Marion
Delorme_ than upon _Antony_, and I was a great admirer of _Marion
Delorme._ I might be deceived in my own piece, but assuredly I was not
mistaken about that of Hugo; while, on the other hand, Crosnier might
be wrong about Hugo's piece, and therefore equally mistaken about mine.
Meanwhile, the rehearsals continued their course.
That which I had foreseen happened: in proportion as the rehearsals
advanced, the two principal parts taken by Madame Dorval and by Bocage
assumed entirely different aspects than they did when represented by
Mademoiselle Mars and Firmin. The absence of scholastic traditions, the
manner of acting drama, a certain sympathy of the actors with their
parts, a sympathy which did not exist at the Théâtre Français, all by
degrees helped to reinstate poor _Antony_ in my own opinion. It is but
fair to say that, when the two great artistes, upon whom the success of
the play depended, felt the day of representation drawing nearer, they
developed, as if in emulation with one another, qualities they were
themselves unconscious they possessed. Dorval brought out a dignity
of feeling in the expression of the emotions, of which I should have
thought her quite incapable; and Bocage, on whom I had only looked
at first as capable of a kind of misanthropic barbarity, had moments
of poetic sadness and of dreamy melancholy that I had only seen in
Talma in his rôles of the English rendering of Hamlet, and in Soumet's
Orestes. The representation was fixed for the first fortnight in April;
but, at the same time, a drama was being played at the _Palais de
justice_, which, even to my eyes, was far more interesting than my own.
My friends Guinard, Cavaignac and Trélat, with sixteen other
fellow-prisoners, were brought up before the Court of Assizes. It will
be recollected that it was on account of the Artillery conspiracy,
wherein I had taken an active part; therefore, one thing alone
surprised me, why they should be in prison and I free; why they should
have to submit to the cross-questionings of the law court whilst I
was rehearsing a piece at the Porte-Saint-Martin. Between the 6th and
the 11th of April the audiences had been devoted to the interrogation
of the prisoners and to the hearing of witnesses. On the 12th, the
Solicitor-General took up the case. I need hardly say that from the
12th to the 15th, the day when sentence was passed, I never left the
sittings. It was a difficult task for the Solicitor-General to accuse
men like those seated on the prisoners' bench, who were the chief
combatants of July, and pronounced the "heroes of the Three Days,"
those whom the Lieutenant-General had received, flattered and pampered
ten months back; the men whom Dupont (de l'Eure) referred to as his
friends, whom La Fayette had called his children and whom, when he was
no longer in the Ministry, Laffitte had called his accomplices. As a
matter of fact, the Laffitte Ministry had fallen on 9 March. The cause
of that fall could not have been more creditable to the former friend
of King Louis-Philippe; he had found that five months of political
friction with the new monarch had been enough to turn him into one of
his most irreconcilable enemies. It was the time when three nations
rose up and demanded their independent national rights: Belgium, Poland
and Italy. People's minds were nearly settled about Belgium's fate;
but not so with regard to Poland and Italy; and all generous hearts
felt sympathy with those two Sisters in Liberty who were groaning, the
one beneath the sword blade of the Czar, the other under Austria's
chastisement. Attention was riveted in particular upon Modena. The
Duke of Modena had fled from his duchy when he heard the news of the
insurrection of Bologna, on the night of 4 February. The Cabinet at the
Palais-Royal received a communication upon the subject from the Cabinet
of Vienna, informing it that the Austrian government was preparing
to intervene to replace Francis IV. upon his ducal throne. It was
curious news and an exorbitant claim to make. The French Government had
proclaimed the principle of non-intervention; now, upon what grounds
could Austria interfere in the Duchy of Modena? Austria had, indeed,
a right of reversion over that duchy; but the right was entirely
conditional, and, until the day when all the male heirs of the reigning
house should be extinct, Modena could be a perfectly independent duchy.
Such demands were bound to revolt so upright and fair a mind as M.
Laffitte's, and he vowed in full council that, if Austria persisted in
that insolent claim, France would go to war with her.
M. Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was asked by the President
of the Council to reply to this effect, which he engaged to do.
Maréchal Maison was then at the embassy of Vienna. He was one of those
stiff and starched diplomatists who preserve the habit, from their
military career, of addressing kings and emperors with their hand upon
their sword hilts. I knew him very well, and in spite of our difference
of age, with some degree of intimacy; a charming woman with a pacific
name who was a mere friend to me, but who was a good deal more than
a friend to him, served as the bond between the young poet and the
old soldier. The Marshal was commissioned to present M. Laffitte's
_Ultimatum_ to Austria. It was succinct: "Non-intervention or War!"
The system of peace at any price adopted by Louis-Philippe was not yet
known at that period. Austria replied as though she knew the secret
thoughts of the King of France. Her reply was both determined and
insolent. This is it--
"Until now, Austria has allowed France to advance the
principle of non-intervention; but it is time France knew
that we do not intend to recognise it where Italy is
concerned. We shall carry our arms wherever insurrection
spreads. If that intervention leads to war--then war there
must be! We prefer to incur the chances of war than to be
exposed to perish in the midst of outbreaks of rebellion."
With the instruction the Marshal received, the note above quoted did
not permit of any agreement being reached; consequently, at the same
time that he sent M. de Metternich's reply to King Louis-Philippe, he
wrote to General Guilleminot, our ambassador at Constantinople, that
France was forced into war and that he must make an appeal to the
ancient alliance between Turkey and France. Marshal Maison added in a
postscript to M. de Metternich's note--
"Not a moment must be lost in which to avert the danger with
which France is threatened; we must, consequently, take the
initiative and pour a hundred thousand men into Piedmont."
This dispatch was addressed to M. Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign
Affairs, with whom, in his capacity as ambassador, Marshal Maison
corresponded direct; it reached the Hôtel des Capucines on 4 March. M.
Sébastiani, a king's man, communicated it to the king, but, important
though it was, never said one word about it to M. Laffitte. That
is the fashion in which the king, following the first principle of
constitutional government, reigned, but did not rule. How did the
_National_ obtain that dispatch? We should be very puzzled to say; but,
on the 8th, it was reproduced word for word in the second column of
that journal. M. Laffitte read it by chance, as La Fayette had read his
dismissal from the commandantship of the National Guard by accident. M.
Laffitte got into a carriage, paper in hand and drove to M. Sébastiani.
He could not deny it: the Marshal alleged such poor reasons, that
M. Laffitte saw he had been completely tricked. He went on to the
Palais-Royal, where he hoped to gain explanations which the Minister
for Foreign Affairs refused to give him; but the king knew nothing at
all; the king was busy looking after the building at Neuilly and did
not trouble his head about affairs of State, he took no initiative and
approved of his ministry. M. Laffitte must settle the matter with his
colleagues. There was so much apparent sincerity and naïve simplicity
in the tone, attitude and appearance of the king that Laffitte thought
he could not be an accomplice in the plot. Next day, therefore, he
took the king's advice and had an explanation with his colleagues.
That explanation led, there and then, to the resignation of the leader
of the Cabinet, who returned to his home with his spirit less broken,
perhaps, by the prospect of his ruined house and lost popularity than
by his betrayed friendship. M. Laffitte was a noble-hearted man who had
given himself wholly to the king, and behold, in the very face of the
insult that had been put upon France, the king, in his new attitude
of preserver of peace, threw him over just as he had thrown over La
Fayette and Dupont (de l'Eure). Laffitte was flung remorselessly and
without pity into the gulf wherein Louis-Philippe flung his popular
favourites when he had done with them. The new ministry was made up
all ready, in advance; the majority of its members were taken from
the old one. The only new ministers were Casimir Périer, Baron Louis
and M. de Rigny. The various offices of the members were as follows:
Casimir Périer, Prime Minister; Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign
Affairs; Baron Louis, Minister of Finance; Barthe, Minister of Justice;
Montalivet, Minister of Education and Religious Instruction; Comte
d'Argout, Minister of Commerce and Public Works; de Rigny, Minister
for the Admiralty. The new ministry nearly lost its prime minister the
very next day after he had been appointed, viz., on 13 March 1831. It
was only with regret that Madame Adélaïde and the Duc d'Orléans saw
Casimir Périer come into power. Was it from regret at the ingratitude
shown to M. Laffitte? or was it fear on account of M. Casimir Périer's
well-known character? Whatever may have been the case, on 14 March,
when the new president of the Council appeared at the Palais-Royal to
pay his respects at court that night, he found a singular expression
upon all faces: the courtiers laughed, the aides-decamp whispered
together, the servants asked whom they must announce. M. le duc
d'Orléans turned his back upon him, Madame Adélaïde was as cold as ice,
the queen was grave. The king alone waited for him, smiling, at the
bottom of the salon. The minister had to pass through a double hedge of
people who wished to repel him, malevolent to him, in order to reach
the king. The rival and successor to Laffitte was angry, proud and
impatient; he resolved to take his revenge at once. He knew the man who
was indispensable to the situation; Thiers was not yet sufficiently
popular, M. Guizot was already too little so. Casimir Périer went
straight to the king..
"Sire," he said to him, "I have the honour to ask you for a private
interview."
The king, amazed, walked before him and led him into his cabinet. The
door was scarcely closed when, without circumlocution or ambiguity, the
new prime minister burst out with--
"Sire, I have the honour to offer my resignation to Your Majesty."
"Eh! good Lord, Monsieur Périer," exclaimed the king, "and on what
grounds?"
"Sire," replied the exasperated minister, "that I have enemies at the
clubs, in the streets, in the Chamber matters nothing; but enemies at
the very court to which I am bold enough unreservedly to offer my whole
fortune is too much to endure! and I do not feel equal, I confess to
Your Majesty, to face these many forms of hatred."
The king felt the thrust, and realised that it must be warded off,
under the circumstances, for it might be fatal to himself. Then, in
his most flattering tones and with that seductive charm of manner in
which he excelled, the king set himself to smooth down this minister's
wounded pride. But with the inflexible haughtiness of his character,
Casimir Périer persisted.
"Sire," he said, "I have the honour to offer my resignation to Your
Majesty."
The king saw he must make adequate amends.
"Wait ten minutes here, my dear Monsieur Périer," he said; "and in ten
minutes you shall be free."
The minister bowed in silence, and let the king leave him.
In that ten minutes the king explained to the queen, to his sister and
his son, the urgent necessity there was for him to keep M. Casimir
Périer, and told them the resolution the latter had just taken to hand
in his resignation. This was a fresh order altogether, and in a few
seconds it was made known to all whom it concerned. The king opened the
door of his cabinet, where the minister was still biting his nails and
stamping his feet.
"Come!" he said.
Casimir Périer bowed lightly and followed the king. But thanks to the
new command, everything was changed. The queen was gracious; Madame
Adélaïde was affable; M. le duc d'Orléans had turned round, the
aides-de-camp stood in a group ready to obey at the least sign from the
king, and also from the minister; the courtiers smiled obsequiously.
Finally, the lackeys, when M. Périer reached the door, flew into the
ante-chambers and rushed down the stairs crying, "M. le president du
Conseil's carriage!" A more rapid and startling reparation could not
possibly have been obtained. Thus Casimir Périer remained a minister,
and the new president of the council then started that arduous career
which was to end in the grave in a year's time; he died only a few
weeks before his antagonist Lamarque.
This was how matters stood when we took a fresh course, in the full
tide of the trial of the artillery, to speak of M. Laffitte.
But, once for all, we are not writing history, only jotting down our
recollections, and often we find that at the very moment when we have
galloped off to follow up some byway of our memory we have left behind
us events of the first importance. We are then obliged to retrace our
steps, to make our apologies to those events, as the king had to do to
M. Casimir Périer; to take them, as it were, by the hand, and to lead
them back to our readers, who perhaps do not always accord them quite
such a gracious reception as that which the Court of the Palais-Royal
gave to the President of the Council on the evening of 14 March 1831.