The war, from the pretext at its beginning to the capitulation at
Sedan, has been a succession of surprises, where the author of the
pretext was a constant sufferer. Nor is this strange. Falstaff
says, with humorous point, "See now how wit may be made a Jack-a-
lent, when't is upon ill employment!"[Footnote: Merry Wives of
Windsor, Act V. Sc. 5.]--and another character, in a play of
Beaumont and Fletcher, reveals the same evil destiny in stronger
terms, when he says,--
"Hell gives us art to reach the depth of sin, But leaves us
wretched fools, when we are in." [Footnote: Queen of Corinth, Act
IV. Sc. 3.]
And this was precisely the condition of the French Empire. Germany
perhaps had one surprise, at the sudden adoption of the pretext
for war. But the Empire has known nothing but surprise. A fatal
surprise was the promptitude with which all the German States,
outside of Austrian rule, accepted the leadership of Prussia, and
joined their forces to hers. Differences were forgotten,--whether
the hate of Hanover, the dread of Wuertemberg, the coolness of
Bavaria, the opposition of Saxony, or the impatience of the Hanse
Towns at lost importance. Hanover would not rise; the other States
and cities would not be detached. On the day after the reading of
the War Manifesto at the French tribune, even before the King's
speech to the Northern Parliament, the Southern States began to
move. German unity stood firm, and this was the supreme surprise
for France with which the war began. On one day the Emperor in his
Official Journal declares his object to be the deliverance of
Bavaria from Prussian oppression, and on the very next day the
Crown Prince of Prussia, at the head of Bavarian troops, crushes
an Imperial army.
Then came the manifest inferiority of the Imperial army,
everywhere outnumbered, which was another surprise,--the manifest
inferiority of the Imperial artillery, also a surprise,--the
manifest inferiority of the Imperial generals, still a surprise.
Above these was a prevailing inefficiency and improvidence, which
very soon became conspicuous, and this was a surprise. The
strength of Germany, as now exhibited, was a surprise. And when
the German armies entered France, every step was a surprise.
Wissembourg was a surprise; so was Woerth; so was Beaumont; so was
Sedan. Every encounter was a surprise. Abel Douay, the French
general, who fell bravely fighting at Wissembourg, the first
sacrifice on the battle-field, was surprised; so was MacMahon, not
only at the beginning, but at the end. He thought that the King
and Crown Prince were marching on Paris. So they were,--but they
turned aside for a few days to surprise a whole army of more than,
a hundred thousand men, terrible with cannon and newly invented
implements of war, under a Marshal of France, and with an Emperor
besides. As this succession of surprises was crowned with what
seemed the greatest surprise of all, there remained a greater
still in the surprise of the French Empire. No Greek Nemesis with
unrelenting hand ever dealt more incessantly the unavoidable blow,
until the Empire fell as a dead body falls, while the Emperor
became a captive and the Empress a fugitive, with their only child
a fugitive also. The poet says:--
"Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy In sceptred pall come sweeping
by."[Footnote: Milton, II Penseroso, 97-98.]
It has swept before the eyes of all. Beneath that sceptred pall is
the dust of a great Empire, founded and ruled by Louis Napoleon;
if not the dust of the Emperor also, it is because he was willing
to sacrifice others rather than himself.