THE ADVENTURE OF GENERAL BOULANGER
One of the most curious episodes in the life of the Third Republic was
certainly the adventure of General Boulanger, with all its attendant
circumstances, many of which have not yet seen the light of day. It
illustrates the taste of the Frenchman for what is vulgarly called, in
the _argot_ of the boulevards, “le panache.”
The “Brave Général,” to give him the name used in the romances sung by
Paulus, was anything but a superior being. I doubt if he was a
strikingly intelligent one. He had neither the qualities nor the
aptitudes which constitute a hero. He never understood his own power,
nor realised the influence which, at a certain moment, he wielded over
the masses; he was almost without ambition; he seldom knew what was
required of him; and no one was more surprised than himself when
suddenly he found that he had become the most popular man in all France.
His rise as well as his fall prove very forcibly that the time is past,
and past for ever, when adventurers, by the glamour which they exercise
over the crowd, can become masters as well as leaders.
To those who were in Paris at that period, it is more than difficult to
account for the sudden blossoming of this very inferior plant in the
garden of French political life, whilst those who have never lived in
the French capital will utterly fail to realise the circumstances that
brought it into evidence. The fact is that Boulangism was the product
of the private ambitions of a considerable number of people who, strange
as it may seem, had nothing to do with each other, and who did not work
together to ensure triumph. On the other hand, each individual directed
his effort to securing for himself alone all the benefit arising from
the movement, and in this General Boulanger played no part at all,
though he appeared to be the leading spirit of the whole intrigue
associated with his name.
The rise into popularity of General Boulanger took place some little
time after the election of M. Sadi Carnot to the Presidency of the
Republic. Carnot was a perfect type of the bourgeoisie of Paris of the
olden days--always cool and methodical, severe in his principles, strong
in his convictions, rather narrow-minded in his views; an austere
figure, the embodiment of honesty, self-respect personified. His very
possessions he looked upon merely as a means for commanding an added
respect, and throughout his life he was also a strict observer of the
law. To these sterling qualities, however, he added nothing that
appealed to the hearts of his countrymen. He did not excite public
enthusiasm, and scarcely succeeded in winning for himself public
sympathies. He was too correct, and perhaps this extreme observance of
his duties, whether political, social, or private, interfered with his
popularity; nations, as well as individuals, do not care to be always
confronted by perfection; they are apt to think it rather dull.
Under such circumstances it is little wonder that people began to look
beyond the President of the Republic for the hero which they had yearned
after ever since the disasters of the Franco-German War had awakened in
them the desire for revenge on the victors. Further, there were certain
ambitious politicians who wanted to come into the limelight, and who
felt that the steady determination of M. Carnot to govern according to
strictly constitutional principles left no room for them or for their
plans.
The Republic, at that distant time of which I am writing, was not yet
established so firmly in the heart of the people that its overthrow
could not be admitted within the range of possibilities. Is it therefore
to be wondered that those who longed for change should have looked
around them for the man strong enough to lead such an adventure?
Boulanger, beyond looking well on his black horse, had but little to
recommend him as a possible destroyer of the Republic. Still, he was a
general, a position which has always possessed great prestige in the
eyes of a certain section of French society. He was not shrewd enough to
observe where his so-called friends were trying to lead him. As a
consequence he allowed himself to be carried away by the tide that at
last threw him against the rocks of Jersey, where his political career
ended even before his life came to a sudden close in the little
churchyard of Uxelles, near Brussels.
There is no denying that Boulangism was engineered by the Royalist party
on the one side, and by some enterprising journalists on the other.
Either of these two circumstances would have been enough in itself
ultimately to wreck the cause, but at the beginning it appeared in the
light of a movement which appealed so well to the sympathies and to the
feelings of the whole nation that it seemed even more formidable from a
distance than when in its midst.
Everything conspired to transform it into a vast conspiracy. When, after
the fall of the Goblet ministry, in which he held the portfolio of the
War Office, Boulanger found himself obliged to retire from political
life, and was transferred to the command of an army corps at Clermont
Ferrand, he could not reconcile himself to his exile, but used to come
back
[Illustration:
_Photo: Gerschel, Paris._
CAPTAIN DREYFUS]
[Illustration:
_Photo: Petit, Paris._
GENERAL BOULANGER]
[Illustration:
_Photo: Gerschel, Paris._
EMILE ZOLA]
[Illustration:
_Photo: Gerschel, Paris._
M. DE LESSEPS]
secretly and disguised to Paris, to see Madame de Bonnemains, who had
sacrificed for him her social position in a most select circle of
Parisian society. Once or twice people met him in disguise, and
recognised him, in spite of a pair of blue spectacles behind which he
fondly hoped he would remain unknown. Thereupon he was immediately
invested with mystery and romance by those who hoped to find in him a
docile instrument to further their personal ambitions; and so, in order
to compel those in power to deprive him of his command, he was accused
of conspiring against the safety of the Republic. Thus, by restoring him
to private life, he had thrust upon him by these intriguers the
opportunity to aspire to the supreme functions of Head of the State.
For some time even staunch Republicans looked at him with dread. The
next step was taken by an unknown journalist, who came forth suddenly as
the apostle of this new messiah, and who conceived the idea of
distributing, in several departments, bulletins of votes bearing the
name of General Boulanger.
In a few days, therefore, France heard with amazement that a multitude
of voters had expressed their willingness to send Boulanger as a deputy
to the Chamber, a thing undreamt of but for M. George Thiebaud’s
adventurous experiment. It was M. Thiebaud who had created Boulangism.
He was not the only factor in fostering the movement. Another
journalist, one who was well known on the boulevards, M. Arthur Meyer,
the proprietor of the _Gaulois_, Count Dillon, and the private secretary
of the Comte de Paris, the Marquis de Beauvoir--all played a part. All
three were men of no mean intelligence, who saw possibilities in this
man to whom the attention of France had been attracted for bringing back
to the throne of their ancestors those Orleans Princes who had failed to
secure for themselves the help of Marshal MacMahon during the time he
reigned at the Elysée.
These three men were credited, in the estimation of those behind the
scenes, with starting this extraordinary adventure which ended so
piteously for its principal character. They furthermore drew into the
enterprise three other strong elements--Henri Rochefort, Count Albert de
Mun, and the Duchesse d’Uzés, while through their influence also became
champions, though in lesser degree, such men as Paul Déroulède and
George Laguerre--an advocate of great talent, who nevertheless is
forgotten to-day--and Lucien Millevoye, who was given charge of one of
the most important missions that those who played with the name of
Boulanger ever entrusted to their adherents.
Strange to say, each one of these persons, down to Madame Adam, who,
almost unknown to herself, was also drawn into the many dark intrigues
to which Boulangism gave rise, worked for a different aim. The Duchess
d’Uzés, when asked to contribute financially to the success of the
enterprise, was actuated by the secret desire to become the Egeria of
the new hero whose star was rising in the firmament of her country’s
existence, and to rule that country under his name. Albert de Mun
thought only of the restoration of the Monarchy. The Marquis de Beauvoir
saw himself so firmly established in the confidence of the Comte de
Paris that the latter would feel himself in honour bound to stand by him
whenever one of those financial catastrophes, which were periodical
events with him, should once again occur. Henri Rochefort was actuated
by his everlasting mania of opposing every existing government, a mania
to which he owed his success as a journalist and as a politician, and to
which he would only have given way with more virulence than before had
some freak of fortune really brought to the pinnacle Boulanger and his
black horse. Arthur Meyer saw in the emprise the opportunity to present
himself before the world as the statesman he firmly believed himself to
be. Others, such as Déroulède, imagined that the General would conquer
at the point of his sword those provinces which had been snatched from
France; or Laguerre, who hoped for a substantial financial reward, and
Millevoye, who aspired to become the Prime Minister of a President of
Republic after his own heart--all these men worked with the same tools
for different purposes. They were interested in the cause they were
supporting, but they did not believe in it otherwise than as a means to
an end.
Whether they would have gone on fighting under the same flag had that
cause triumphed is another question. Very probably not; but while the
struggle lasted, they threw themselves into it with all the faculties
for good or for evil with which nature had endowed them. And when the
battle was lost, the disillusion was equally bitter for each of them.
Any attempt to analyse the different phases through which Boulangism had
to pass can only result in wonder that it could have maintained its
popularity for such a relatively considerable time, and also that it
aroused the serious apprehensions which permeated the ranks of the
Republican supporters of the government. The party had no leader except
the irresolute General whom it had adopted.
Madame d’Uzés, who was in possession of a considerable fortune through
her mother, was a woman who had never been handsome. She was
intelligent, like all the Mortemart family to which she belonged,
ambitious, rather tyrannical in character, and violent in her temper
when she was opposed or annoyed. She had been left a widow while still
young, and enjoyed a foremost position in the Faubourg St. Germain owing
to her great name and immense riches. One of her daughters had married
the Duc de Brissac, the second one was the Duchesse de Luynes. She was
allied to the bluest blood of France, and had Court precedence been in
vogue, she would have held first rank. She had nothing to gain and
everything to lose by throwing herself into the arms of the “Brave
Général,” and the cause which led her to join the ranks of Boulangism
must have been that she had imagined that when once the “King” had
entered again into his inheritance, the part she had played in that
restoration would win for her a foremost place in his confidence, would
ensure for her an exclusive position among the ranks of his advisers.
Then, too, if the truth must be told, like so many women before her, she
had also been fascinated by the personal charm of Boulanger, and when in
his presence her heart, old though it was already, would beat just a
little faster than usual. Her desire to rescue her idol from the
fascinations of the woman who held him tied to her apron strings may
also have had something to do with the facility with which she opened
her purse to him as well as the doors of her house.
Not only did she become his friend, but also the confidante of his
ambitions; of his deceptions; of his ever-increasing bitterness at the
daily insults and the calumnies which were showered upon him by some of
his former friends who accused him of treason against their party; of
his doubts concerning the so-called virtues of the Republicans as well
as of the Republic itself. She used to comfort him, turn his thoughts
away from such vexatious matters, and try to win him over almost
imperceptibly to her own political ideas. At last she thought she had
succeeded; but she had not sufficient perspicacity to judge of the true
character of Boulanger, who had never understood anything in the way of
politics except the old saying: “Otes toi de là, que je m’y mette!”
(“Get out from there in order that I may step into your place!”)
Count Albert de Mun was the only really strong man who had joined the
ranks of the Boulangists--I mean strong in the sense of principles and
opinions. He was the son of the charming Eugénie de la Forronays, one of
the most delightful among the gallery of delightful women who adorn that
so widely read book, the “Récit d’une Sœur,” by Mrs. Augustus Craven. He
had been singularly blessed by Providence with all the qualities,
physical, moral, and intellectual, that help to make a man attractive.
He had talent, moreover, and remarkable eloquence, and he believed in
monarchy as a system and as a tradition to which all his past as well as
that of his race enjoined him to remain faithful. He had earnestly hoped
that through Boulanger the cause to which he had devoted his life would
triumph, and he did not hesitate to lend to the General the prestige of
his personal influence over his own followers.
The Duchesse d’Uzés and the Count Albert de Mun were the most sincere in
this most insincere adventure. It could add nothing to what they already
possessed, and might, on the contrary, considerably endanger their
position among their former friends in case of failure. All honour to
them. They at least pursued no other aims than the gratification of
their patriotic feelings. They may have been childish in their loyalty,
but there was nothing of sordidness or of petty feelings of revenge or
of worldly triumph in its composition.
One can hardly say the same concerning others whom I have already
mentioned. Laguerre was of a type of _condottieri_ met with in the pages
of the history of the Italian republics, ready to do anything except
turn back on the enterprise once begun, whose hands were always open to
receive but not to give, whose ambitions were great, but unselfishness
limited, who looked toward the enjoyments of the present hour and toward
the gratification of the fancies of the moment, but never ahead; who
could not see the consequences of their actions, because they knew that
these would fall on other heads than their own. A brilliant man was
Laguerre, but a character that did not inspire confidence and sacrifice,
one of those tools which are indispensable to every conspiracy. His
eloquence was unrivalled, his wit something marvellous, his way of
handling irony as a weapon, quite indescribable; but though he was a
politician, he was not a political man, and even less a statesman.
Déroulède was a patriot, if patriotism is synonymous with rabidness. He
could influence the masses by the torrent of his words. Whether he could
lead them is a question which has remained unanswered to this day, and
one may be excused if one entertains doubts concerning his capacities in
that respect. He had made a name for himself by his anti-German
feelings; he gave it even more importance by his attitude in the
Boulanger conspiracy; but when he put his undoubted popularity at the
service of the General he did so with the intention of working for the
welfare of the Republic, and he would have become his most bitter foe
had he found out that Boulanger was but the instrument of the Orleanist
party.
As for Millevoye, it was another thing. He was the only one among all
these passengers in the same ship who had something akin to political
penetration, and who could understand that, when one aspires to
overthrow the government of a country, it is necessary to secure for
oneself strong sympathies abroad in order not to find obstacles in the
way later on. He also had patriotic feelings akin to those of Déroulède,
but he had more shrewdness, and he it was who deceived himself that he
could procure for General Boulanger the support of no less a personage
than the Tsar of all the Russias.
When the events which I am about to relate occurred, the Franco-Russian
_rapprochement_ had not yet taken place. In 1888 the idea of a French
alliance was not popular in Russia, and especially was its Foreign
Office strongly German in its leanings. Nevertheless, Millevoye
determined to see for himself whether it would not be possible to
triumph over a certain mistrust which existed in Russian official
spheres in regard to the French Republic. He resolved to offer in
exchange a mute acquiescence to the election for life of General
Boulanger as its President, a defensive alliance against Germany and
Austria, as well as the support of France in case Russia wanted to
settle to her advantage the long-pending question of the Straits and the
Bosphorus.
In this episode lies the only attempt at seriousness of the Boulanger
conspiracy, and it would be a pity that it should remain in the darkness
which hitherto has enshrouded it. Millevoye, in order to execute the
plan that he had elaborated, addressed himself to Madame Adam (Juliette
Lambert), and asked her for her advice. Juliette Lambert, who still
dreamed of an ideal Republic, put at the service of Millevoye all her
genius and all her heart. She gave him a letter of introduction to a
friend she had in St. Petersburg, a lady well known in Court circles;
and, in order to ensure the success of Millevoye, who had been very
careful to hide from her the fact that he wanted to enlist the
sympathies of Russia in favour of General Boulanger--rather, telling her
that his aim was to propose, in the name of the Republican party, an
alliance against Germany--she had given him certain political documents
calculated to help him in his perilous adventure.
Millevoye first sent to St. Petersburg his friend, Miss Maud Gonne, a
lovely Irish girl, who since that time made herself widely known owing
to her advocacy of Fenianism.
Miss Maud Gonne duly arrived in Russia, and, thanks to her efforts and
those of the Russian lady to whom I have already referred, Millevoye was
introduced into the presence of M. Pobedonostseff, then Procurator of
the Holy Synod and personal friend of Alexander III., who promised he
would himself submit to the Sovereign the documents which Millevoye left
in his charge.
During this interview which the Russian statesman granted to the French
politician the latter broached at once the question of General
Boulanger, but this met with no response. The Tsar was far too shrewd a
man to allow himself to be drawn into an adventure which, besides
everything else, had against it a shade of ridicule. Millevoye was
discouraged in his dreams, but the seeds sown by his journey were to
bring fruit in quite an unexpected fashion much later on.
Madame Adam was furious when she heard that Millevoye, instead of
pleading the cause of the Republic, had tried to put forward that of
General Boulanger. She not only turned her back upon him when he
returned crestfallen from his journey, but joined the ranks of the
adversaries of the pseudo hero, becoming one of the advisers of M.
Constant in the campaign that the latter led with such success against
Boulangism and its chief leaders.
M. Arthur Meyer, to whom already I have made a passing reference, is
more in his proper place among journalists than in the ranks of
political men. He is a curious figure in the kaleidoscopic picture that
Parisian society represents to-day, and though he has no aristocratic
ancestry behind him, he is ever a welcome and much-desired guest in the
select salons of the city.
It can, therefore, hardly be wondered that with such elements the
Boulangist party was doomed to failure. It was born by accident out of
the imagination of a man who had nothing better to do than to try to
raise tiny storms in a teacup. It wanted a leader, and it required
soldiers to push it forward. Unfortunately, it attracted politicians,
each of whom wanted to exploit it for the furtherance of his own cause,
and was led by a man in love, who preferred the caresses of Madame de
Bonnemains to the chances of being imprisoned, and who afterwards was
carried to the Elysée by the enthusiasm of an intoxicated nation, who
would have risen like one man to deliver him had the government tried to
capture him.
M. Constant, one of the ablest Prime Ministers France has ever had,
judged the acute situation with perfect accuracy. General Boulanger in
prison was a danger to the safety of the Republic; General Boulanger in
a voluntary exile ceased to be a subject of dread to anyone. In France,
more than in any other country, cowardice is fatal. She turned her head
away from her favourite of the day before when she found out that he had
not the courage to take a single risk in order to ensure his future
triumph. When M. Constant caused to be conveyed secretly to the “Brave
Général” the fact that he was to be arrested during the night, and also
managed to procure for himself the alliance of Madame de Bonnemains in
her fear of losing her lover, the fate of Boulangism was sealed.
Deprived of its chief, and of his prestige--which was far more
important, because it was on that prestige the leaders of the party had
reckoned far more than on the man himself--the forlorn cause he had
embodied was bound to fall with a crash and bury everything under its
debris.
As for the heroine of this semi-burlesque and semi-dramatic adventure,
she died shortly after its dénouement. When Boulanger had fled from
France at her earnest request, she was already doomed, and what is
worse, she knew it. She was selfish enough to wish to keep for herself
during the few days which were left to her on earth the love of the man
she adored, and, seriously, who can blame her for it? Certainly had
Boulanger been of the material from which conspirators are made he
would have sacrificed her on the altar of his future glory. It would
have been masculine selfishness, and though his partisans may regret he
did not display it, others may be forgiven if they see a redeeming
feature to all the follies which will ever remain inseparable from the
name of Boulanger, in the weakness which made him lose and destroy a
political party, because he could not bear to see a woman weep. It is
certain that he truly loved Madame de Bonnemains; his suicide is proof.