FOOTNOTES:
[219] M. Gabriel Hanotaux’s numbers are slightly different; but the main point is that a substantial balance remained on the side of the Monarchists. See Histoire de la France Contemporaine, I. 39.
[220] Souvenirs, V. 23.
[221] Souvenirs, IV. 341.
[222] Ibid., V. 5.
[223] Souvenirs, V. 12, 13.
[224] Hanotaux, op. cit., I. 64 et passim.
[225] Souvenirs, V. 25.
[226] Hanotaux, op. cit., I. 105, does not hesitate to condemn Favre’s conduct of these negotiations.
[227] From Bordeaux, on December 26, 1870. He repeats this judgment on February 16, 1871. See Life of Lord Lyons, by Lord Newton.
[228] Labouchère, The Besieged Resident in Paris.
[229] Histoire Contemporaine, I. 87.
[230] Op. cit., I. 89.
[231] Souvenirs, III. 44.
[232] Hanotaux, op. cit., 60.
[233] Souvenirs, III. 365.
[234] The general, who, during the siege of Paris, had commanded the army of Central France.
[235] Souvenirs, V. 44.
[236] Souvenirs, IV. 47.
[237] Ibid., 55.
[238] Hanotaux, op. cit., I. 130.
[239] Souvenirs, V. 120.
[240] Ibid., 83.
[241] Ibid., 92, 105.
[242] Souvenirs, V. 124.
[243] Souvenirs, IV. 149.
[244] Ibid., VII. 282.
[245] Ibid., V. 222.
[246] Ibid., VII. 355.
[247] That for the Commune’s excesses the Government held “the Internationale” partly responsible is proved by the introduction into the National Assembly of a Bill condemning as a criminal offence membership of this society. Favre, op. cit., III. 479.
[248] Souvenirs, V. 80.
[249] Ibid., 76; Hanotaux, op. cit., I. 188.
[250] Ibid., 81.
[251] Souvenirs, V. 158.
[252] Ibid., 9.
[253] Ibid., 213.
CHAPTER XIII
GAMBETTA’S EGERIA
1871-1878
“Adam et moi, nous n’avons pas d’autre espoir, pas d’autre culte que Gambetta. Il est pour nous la personnification même de la France, l’expression vivante et agissante de notre relèvement, de nos certitudes républicaines et nationales.”—Juliette Adam.
Mme. Adam’s attitude towards Gambetta passed through three phases. During the war she regarded him as the incarnation of national defence, after the defeat of 1871 as l’Homme de la Revanche; finally, when la Revanche was delayed she grew first impatient and then disappointed with her former hero. It is with the two first of these phases that we shall deal in this chapter.
As we have seen, Gambetta had already been admitted to Mme. Adam’s salon before the war. But from the opening of the siege until a year after the peace they met but seldom if at all. After Gambetta’s courageous balloon ascent from Paris, and his safe, if hazardous, landing in a wood near Montdidier, all through those darkest days of l’Année Terrible, Juliette Adam derived almost her only consolation and hope from Gambetta’s dispatches. The energy he was deploying in his country’s service made her pulse throb with confidence and courage. The news brought by carrier pigeon into the besieged capital of the armies he was creating—Faidherbe’s in the north, Chanzy’s on the Loire, Bourbaki’s in the east—seemed almost to compensate for the indecision and inaction of the defenders of Paris.
“On the 24th of November,” she wrote,[254] “this morning, I am mad with joy, mad with hope. I read and read again Gambetta’s dispatch to Jules Favre. I bless the great patriot who sends it to us. If Gambetta, a republican, were to save our France! When others doubt him and his valour, I do not doubt.”
“Why, we have an army on the Loire two hundred thousand men strong! In a week we shall have another hundred thousand: two hundred thousand recruits are clamouring to be on the march. At last!... Long live France! ... and she will live, our patrie française. It will not be so easy to tread upon her. Frenchmen will be found to defend her, to prevent the invader from pillaging, from defiling her from one end of the land to the other. It seems to me that all Paris should thank Gambetta. I write to him.”
And when the superb movement of French energy, with which Gambetta alone had been able to inspire the provinces, seemed to Juliette Adam to have been nullified by the capital’s submission, she followed her hero more fervently than ever in his advocacy of war to the bitter end. She deplored the mistrust and suspicion with which the other members of the September Government regarded ce fou furieux, as they called him. She deplored his resignation on the 5th of February, 1871, of the office of Minister of the Interior.
Gambetta’s colleagues accused him of ruling France by terror, and endeavouring to make himself a dictator. To the statesman whom Bismarck regarded as the most superb organiser in Europe, no portfolio was assigned in the government Thiers was forming at Bordeaux.
So completely out of sympathy with the National Assembly and its monarchical majority did Gambetta find himself that, after the signing of the preliminaries of peace and after he had taken part in that memorable protest of the Alsace-Lorraine deputies against the session of those provinces, he resigned his seat and for some months withdrew from political life.
On his return to it, in the summer of 1871, he found his friends, the Adams, in Paris, and Juliette once more the mistress of a brilliant and influential political salon. No sooner had she re-established herself in the Maison Sallandrouze than her friends began to gather round her once more.
The social life of the metropolis was gradually being resumed. But it took at least a year before anything like the old brilliance revived. The first sign of that revival was when Parisian women began to care about clothes. “Les femmes du siège,” writes Mme. Adam, “qui ne savaient plus ce que c’était que s’habiller, s’occupaient à nouveau de leurs robes,” of course she adds, “moi la première.”[255]
Now once again her Wednesday dinner-parties afforded an occasion for grande toilette. On other evenings any of the Adams’ friends, who happened to be passing along the boulevard, were welcome to come up just as they were. Among those evening callers was more than one well-known Englishman. Mr. Richard Whiteing, in his book My Harvest,[256] paints a vivid picture of Mme. Adam’s salon. He signals her out as one of those republican women who were reconstructing the salon on a Republican basis.
The great subjects of discussion on those Wednesday and Friday evenings were Gambetta’s speeches. Long passages from them were recited[257] by Spuller, the deputy who led the most moderate section of Gambetta’s supporters.[258]
Then one day in June the orator himself arrived. He had asked to spend the evening alone with his hosts. Adam had not seen him since the eve of his departure from Bordeaux.
“Cette soirée,” writes Juliette,[259] “a été longue et d’un interêt passionant.” While not entirely approving of their friend’s attitude, of his sympathy with the Commune, for example, the Adams congratulated him on his recent speech at Bordeaux.
“The level-headedness, the wisdom of that speech,” Adam told Gambetta, “confounded your enemies. You may now group around you a party recruited from the left and including a few members of the left centre. Juliette and I will be able to contrive for you a certain understanding with the left centre on the great questions of national policy.”
These words foretold what was to be the rôle of Mme. Adam’s salon in the days of its greatest brilliance. As the rallying ground for the various parties of republican opposition to the reactionary majority in the Assembly, it rendered important service, not only to Gambetta, but also to the President (Thiers) in his difficult task of keeping the peace between the discordant elements of his nondescript and essentially provisional Government. Later, after Thiers’ resignation, during the days of the République Militante between 1873 and 1876, Mme. Adam’s salon continued to hold together various sections of the republican party: the left centre, the extreme left and the republican union, which consisted entirely of Gambetta’s friends. “Our house,” writes Mme. Adam, “became very useful to Gambetta. There he met artists whom he charmed, financiers whom he reassured, political adversaries whom he enrolled.”[260] Sir Sidney Colvin, who[261] in those years was often in Paris for two or three weeks at a time, used generally to go to her evening receptions, of which he has a very distinct recollection. He remembers Mme. Adam as the recognised Egeria of Gambetta, as very cultivated and intelligent. Obviously she had been very beautiful; she was still extremely handsome, and above all things full of graciousness and tact and good-will—the grace and the good-will of a cultivated bourgeoise accustomed to charm and determined to exercise her charm for a cause she had at heart. Sir Sidney used to find it interesting to watch her moving about, the only lady at her receptions, from some old dry doctrinaire of the Dufaure group to some fiery municipal Radical from the south; among deputies of all shades, wide asunder as the poles in tradition and feeling and temperament, and to see her throwing one after another into good humour by sheer womanly cordiality and grace.
Indeed, all who have seen Mme. Adam entertaining her guests will agree that she possesses the true salon manner, and that she is mistress of that enviable art of talking so as to make others talk.
Had it not been for his admiration of Gambetta, Edmond Adam would have thrown in his lot entirely with that section of the republican party known as the left centre. “As it was,” writes his wife, “he was to serve as a hyphen (à trait d’union) between the left centre, the republican union and the extreme left. There were those who thought that Juliette was chiefly responsible for her husband’s sympathies with the extreme wing of the republican party. But this she will not admit,[262] though she does not deny that her special friends were radicals, while Adam’s were moderates. Thiers himself said to Adam one day, ”Quand votre femme rougit, bleuissez.“ And it is obvious that Juliette with her impulsive nature not infrequently lost patience with the grandes ombres élyséennes, as she dubbed Laurent Pichat, Victor Hugo, Louis Blanc, and those other vieilles barbes of 1848 who were the mainstay of the left centre. ”For them,“ she writes, ”République is a solemn and pompous word. The young, with Gambetta at their head, are more practical and utilitarian.“ They desired a government adapted to the phase of democracy to which France had then attained. Nevertheless, there was nothing commonplace or even opportunist in those bright visions of the future Republic which Gambetta painted in his speeches. ”Half smiling,“ writes Mme. Adam, ”he came straight to my Athenian Republic.[263]... He desired a France withdrawn into herself in order to heal her wounds. But when he spoke of her rôle after this enforced period of retirement, then he had a vision of her future prestige, when the army, chief symbol of the country’s revival, should be strengthened, glorified every day in order to raise la patrie from defeat. Then he saw numberless schools educating the people—the French schoolmaster playing as prominent a part as the German schoolmaster—secularism dissipating all the darkness of clericalism, liberating thought, correcting the errors of the past, until France, grown great by misfortune, astonished the whole world by her resurrection.“
Mme. Adam used to complain that in Paris during the first years of the Republic, while the National Assembly continued to sit at Versailles, anything like true sociability was impossible. And it was true that poor “capitulating Paris” was somewhat shorn of her brightest social glories. The whole of political society precipitated itself upon Versailles. On the days when some great oration was expected from Thiers, Dufaure, Batbie or Gambetta, the railway platform at the Gare St. Lazare was thronged, and the carriages in the Versailles train so crowded that it was almost impossible to find a place. Versailles itself was completely transformed. Never since its royal days had it seen such life. It is true that the dull stream of black coats flowing along its streets made one long for the gay, beplumed, bejewelled courtiers of le Roi Soleil. Nevertheless, the political whirl of the place was much greater than ever during l’ancien régime. Constituents waylaid deputies in the streets and poured into their impatient ears whole cahiers of grievances. At the luncheon and dinner-hour the Hôtel des Réservoirs was packed. It was necessary to reserve tables days in advance. And how delightful it was to sit and sip one’s coffee in the delicious freshness of the park after a hot summer afternoon passed in the close atmosphere of the parliament chamber. In that charming verandah, which many of us know so well, ministers and deputies met together, while the gay frocks and the still gayer laughter of their women friends enlivened the scene. Centuries seemed to have passed since the evil days of l’Année Terrible. Nowhere was the miraculous recuperative force of France more striking, never had political society more entrain than during those parliament years at Versailles.
Of that sparkling world Mme. Adam was one of the brightest adornments, one of the gayest flashers, as Fanny Burney would have said. Always perfectly gowned—elle portrait admirablement la toilette was the opinion of every one—she never missed an important séance. After having dined at the Hôtel des Réservoirs in the evening, she would be at the Gare St. Lazare at nine the next morning; and surrounded by a coterie of eminent politicians, who were all in love with her, would make the journey to Versailles and take her accustomed place in a box of the theatre of the Château, which now served as a meeting-place for the Assembly. It had been built by Gabriel as an opera-house for Louis XIV. While what had been the stage, now shut off from the main building, had been converted into a lobby, a mahogany rostrum, approached by a double staircase of six steps, communicated to the theatre of that most autocratic of monarchs something of the air of a modern parliament house, and the constant movement among the seven hundred and twenty-eight representatives of the Republic, the perpetual lifting of the heavy red velvet portières which led into the lobby, suggested a political instability quite out of harmony with the traditions of le Grand Monarque.
Among the most striking figures in the Assembly hall were some of Juliette’s greatest friends. One might easily recognise the Orleanist Marquis de Lasteyrie by his green eye-shade, M. Jules Simon by his student’s stoop, M. Dufaure by his brown frock-coat, M. Littré by his blue velvet skull-cap, M. Garnier-Pagès by his famous faux col, and close by him that “Bull of Bashan of politics,” M. Gambetta,[264] by his leonine head and the half-recumbent attitude in which he listened attentively to every word of the debate.
Gambetta’s first appearance at Versailles in July 1871 was a great political event. At a by-election he had been chosen by three departments, Bouches-du-Rhone, Var and Seine. “The day of his first speech,” writes Mme. Adam, “was a day of profound emotion for us, and of great curiosity for others, who flocked to see the fou furieux.” In those days Gambetta, though only three-and-thirty, was already threatened with that stoutness which, in a man of his stature, required all the dignity of his strong personality to carry off. He had not yet, moreover, been taken in hand by Adam’s tailor. His black frock-coat, white drill trousers and panama hat made him appear something of a Tartarin. The unsuitability of his attire would sometimes diminish the effect of his orations.
On the July day when this political Bohemian, emerging from his five months’ retirement, suddenly burst upon the cultivated audience at Versailles, his power of utterance, his energy of thought, and above all his unexpected moderation carried every one away.
“He roared” (il a rugi), said the wife of a conservative deputy who sat next to Mme. Adam. “Yes,” replied Juliette, “he is a lion.” The moment was one when the bishops of France, led by Monseigneur Dupanloup, were petitioning the French Chamber to restore the Pope’s temporal power. Gambetta, while unchaining all the fervour of his anti-clerical wrath, nevertheless supported the government in its motion that the question, instead of being discussed by the Assembly, should be referred to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. His support of Thiers, whom he and his friends were supposed to regard as nothing but un vieillard sinistre, took every one by surprise. Coming home in the train Adam, who was at once the friend of Thiers and of Gambetta, was bombarded with questions—
“Come, Adam, you must be in the know! Are they in agreement? If so, you must be acting as intermediary between them.”[265]
But Adam shrugged his shoulders and replied: “Alas! I only wish it were so. But it is very far from being the case now, or likely to be in the future.”
Indeed, Thiers, throughout the difficult months which were to follow, was to regard as a serious obstacle in his path Gambetta’s eloquent advocacy of la Revanche, which so delighted Mme. Adam. For at that time Thiers was engaged in those delicate negotiations with Bismarck which culminated in March 1873, in the paying off of the five milliards war indemnity, and in the consequent liberation of France from the Prussian occupation almost two years before the time stipulated by the Treaty of Frankfort.
This magnificent consummation, far surpassing the wildest hopes of the most sanguine, Thiers beheld constantly endangered by Gambetta’s revanchard fervour. The President trembled when he heard that to a deputation from Alsace Gambetta had declared that if ever France descended to such a depth of impiety as to put away from her the image of bleeding, mutilated Alsace, then and then alone might Alsatians give way to despair.[266] “This is not the moment for such a declaration,” exclaimed Thiers. “Let him wait. Let him wait.” The President was constantly entreating Adam to implore his friend to be moderate. His ideas, his speeches in the provinces, were impressing the Germans in a manner most unfavourable to the negotiations which were proceeding.[267] Never did the Great Tribune appear to Thiers more of a fou furieux than during the autumn and winter of 1872 and ’73, when the commis voyageux de la politique (the political commercial traveller), as he liked to call himself, was going up and down France delivering that famous series of speeches, intended to rouse the provinces to a great burst of republican ardour, which should dissolve the reactionary National Assembly, get rid of the temporising Thiers, and bring in Gambetta and his friends.
Mme. Adam, despite her respect for Thiers, deeply sympathised with Gambetta’s aims as he declared them in those celebrated orations. Merely to read Gambetta’s speeches was to lose their finest flavour. Unlike the speeches of our own Edmund Burke and John Bright, they will never be classics. His eloquence, for its full appreciation, so I have heard Mme. Adam say, required the magic of his presence, the thrill of his sonorous voice, the dramatic emphasis of his gestures, and the inspiration of his whole presence.
On returning from Venice to Bruyères in the autumn of 1872, she and Adam read the first reports of these speeches in the newspapers. Vigilance and patience were the two qualities Gambetta most fervently enjoined on his compatriots. And vigilance for him involved two all-important reforms: the reorganisation of the army on the lines of universal military service, and compulsory education. Chaque citoyen soldat et instruit was his device.[268] Indeed, it is largely to the Great Tribune that we owe that systematic teaching of patriotism in French schools which in the present war is bearing such rich fruit. “Every child in our elementary schools,” said Gambetta, “must be taught that a cause exists to which it must give everything, sacrifice everything, its life, its future, its family, and that this cause is France.”
These words Mme. Adam and her husband read over and over again. “Yes,” exclaims Juliette, “we must sacrifice ourselves for France; we must keep nothing back, and we must also serve him who utters these patriotic words,[269] and who has never despaired of his country.”
With Gambetta’s requirement that national education must be as secular as the state itself the Adams were also in agreement. While every religion should be assured of absolute liberty, Gambetta declared at Havre, “the state must not identify itself with any dogma or philosophy. If such questions are admitted to be within its competency, then it becomes at once arbitrary, persecuting, intolerant.”
With the importance Gambetta attached to the army the Adams were in perfect sympathy. All three they shared the President’s emotion when, at the close of the Longchamps review in the summer of 1871, le petit bourgeois, descending from his seat, grasped the hands of Marshal MacMahon as he marched past at the head of the army he had reformed, and in a voice choked by a sob murmured “Thank you.” “Gambetta,” wrote Juliette, “rejoices at the success of the review. He adores the army.”[270]
During their first talk with Gambetta after his return to political life the Adams had advised their friend to found a republican newspaper. “Il vous faut un grand journal,” said Adam.[271] “Would it not be possible,” asked Gambetta, “to revive L’Avenir National?” Founded in the middle sixties, largely financed by Adam, with his wife for one of its regular contributors, and her friend Peyrat as editor, the paper had at first been a brilliant success. Then it fell on evil days, and in order to keep it going at all, Adam had to subscribe large sums. Having been hard hit by this earlier journalistic adventure, Adam did not feel himself in a position to provide funds for a second. He suggested, however, that Gambetta might apply to other ardent republicans, to Dorian and to that fervent Alsatian, Scheurer-Kestner, for example. While for collaborators, he could not do better than appeal to Challemel-Lacour, Spuller, Ranc, Paul Bert, etc.
The outcome of this conversation was the foundation of La République Française. “Grandissime évènement,” writes Mme. Adam, “La République Française a paru.” Gambetta, assisted by Spuller, was its editor-in-chief, Challemel-Lacour its literary editor, Proust was to contribute articles on foreign politics. The new paper’s office was, of course, in the Rue Croissant.[272] Where else but in that most famous journalist street in Paris could an influential newspaper appear! And close at hand, only round the corner, in the Boulevard Poissonnière was the Adams’ flat. So, equally of course, when the editors’ work was done and they required some relaxation after their literary labours, they were always welcome to talk and dominoes in the hospitable Maison Sallandrouze. “The workshops of the République Française will be in the Rue Croissant, the Salon in the Maison Sallandrouze,” writes Mme. Adam.[273] The paper’s success justified all the hopes inspired by the eminence of its editors and contributors.
In every detail of its organisation Mme. Adam took a deep interest. And she was delighted when Spuller satisfied her curiosity by describing how the office was worked: how Challemel arrived at five o’clock, looked through the dispatches and then summoned the various editors to discuss the day’s events; how barely had the conversation begun when Challemel saw, in a flash, what would be the subject of his own article; how Isambert, the leader-writer, invariably came late; how Paul Bert, who contributed articles on science, was punctuality itself.
La République Française, as may well be imagined, figured large in the conversation when in the spring of 1874 its three directors, Gambetta, Spuller and Challemel, visited Bruyères.
Gambetta stayed there a week, going over occasionally to visit his parents and sister, who were then living at Nice. Mme. Adam had made their acquaintance some time earlier. She found them excellent people of the shop-keeping class. Mme. Gambetta, a Frenchwoman of la bonne bourgeoisie, but with no dowry to speak of, had, as we have said, married a grocer of Genoese origin, who was then in business at Cahors. But when Mme. Adam first made the family’s acquaintance they were living at Nice. The household consisted of Gambetta’s father and mother, a widowed sister, Benedetta, her little boy Léon, and a servant, who, having entered the Gambettas’ service at thirteen, was regarded as one of the family. Gambetta’s aunt, the famous “Tata,” had followed her nephew to Paris. His mother, Mme. Adam could see at a glance, lived, moved and had her being in her celebrated son. She was proud to relate how before his birth she had consulted a soothsayer, a somnambulist, who had declared her about to be the mother of a man who would govern France. Gambetta’s relatives remained Mme. Adam’s life-long friends. They frequently visited Bruyères. She helped them in various ways, and at Gambetta’s request arranged a second marriage for his widowed sister, who became Mme. Léris; and when she is in the south of France Mme. Adam never fails to go and see her. Mme. Léris is now living at Cahors, in what was formerly a monastic dwelling. She is surrounded by relics of her famous brother, trophies presented to him on great public occasions, which contrast strangely with the ecclesiastical fitments of the house.
One day in 1915, when I arrived at Gif, I found Mme. Adam reading a letter she had just received from Gambetta’s sister. This curious, original and highly entertaining document I was permitted to read. It showed plainly that though all the family money had been spent on the son’s education, by no means all the gifts had been showered upon him, for a plentiful dower of wit, common sense and originality has evidently fallen to the lot of Mme. Benedetta.
But here we are anticipating. We must leave Mme. Léris and go back to the year 1874, when her illustrious brother was visiting Bruyères.
Mme. Adam found Gambetta as delightful a guest as George Sand. She, by the way, was one of his bitterest foes. She regarded him as nothing but a windbag, un simple utilisateur.[274]
Gambetta’s voracious appetite, challenging comparison with that of the hero of his favourite author, Rabelais, did full justice to the good cheer which Mme. Adam never fails to put before her guests. He ate well, he drank well, and he enjoyed, to the full, all the picnics and the excursions which were planned for his entertainment, even the sailings in the barque named after one of his arch-enemy’s masterpieces, La Petite Fadette, and which ought, if there had been any consistency in the cosmos, to have foundered and shipwrecked one, at any rate, of its passengers.
Gambetta’s week at Bruyères afforded opportunities for many serious discussions. And although the friends were on the whole in perfect accord, we may, in the accounts Mme. Adam gives of these conversations, discern a difference of opinion, slight apparently, yet in reality fundamental, which, though at first a mere rift, was to widen into a chasm and finally to separate them. Mme. Adam even then began to see that the Republic of Gambetta’s dreams was not so Athenian as she thought. Between her aristocratic ideas and his radicalism there was a pronounced difference. She wanted to see the masses led by the élite. For Gambetta there was to be no élite: the masses were to be educated to guide and govern themselves. “Then we shall sink to their level,” prophesied Juliette. “No, we shall merely stretch out our hands to them,” was Gambetta’s reply.[275]
That spring visit to Bruyères was repeated in the following winter (December, 1874) and many times afterwards. Gambetta would arrive tired, worn-out by his political battles and by his electoral campaigns. But he, like Challemel-Lacour and many other exhausted politicians, never failed to find Bruyères La Villa du Bon Repos. Perfect restfulness was the order of the day. Lunch was deferred until two, so that the tired guest might sleep till one. Even the house-dog, “Modeste,” was banished to the gardener’s cottage for fear his barkings might disturb the great man’s slumbers. Everything was devised to divert his mind from politics: plays, concerts and those charades in which his hostess excels even to-day in her eighty-first year. During excursions and picnics not a word so much as bearing on politics was permitted to be spoken. Against the crowds of supporters, admirers and curiosity-mongers who would have invaded his solitude his host and hostess protected him with une energie farouche.[276] But occasionally not even their devotion could prevent his being compelled to make a speech in the neighbourhood, or on one occasion from the balcony of Bruyères itself. Certain reactionary newspapers did not scruple to attribute a political significance to Gambetta’s visits to Bruyères. They hinted that Marshal MacMahon’s[277] government regarded with disapproval and had even made a raid on one of these conciliabules in order to detect and denounce a civil servant who was present.[278]
In the intervals of these visits, and while Mme. Adam was at Bruyères, Gambetta, despite his multifarious occupations and interests, found time to keep her au courant with affairs in Paris by long letters. “He made his Sévigné,” as his friend expressed it, in a delightful manner. At the length of his letters the Adams marvelled. In these lively pages he discussed in detail his own opinions and those of others of the political situation at home and abroad. No one who is interested in Gambetta should neglect to read this correspondence.
These letters show how serviceable was Mme. Adam to her friend and to his party when conservative machinations were placing the Republic in great jeopardy. The year 1875 was a critical year for the Republic. That constitution, which was to set it on a permanent basis, was then being debated in the National Assembly. The President’s powers were being defined, also his relations to the legislative body, now consisting of a lower house, la chambre des députés, and an upper, the senate, of which Adam became a member. The lively discussion of all these matters, which took place in Mme. Adam’s salon, she reproduces in her Souvenirs. To the disappointment of republicans, it appeared throughout the three following years that this constitution had not placed the Republic out of danger. More than once the conservatives seemed on the point of substituting for it some kind of monarchical régime.
The Republic’s greatest danger was in the spring and summer of 1877, when MacMahon, by what is known as his coup d’état of le seize Mai, brought in a conservative ministry. At that time Mme. Adam was passing through the deep waters of personal bereavement. Edmond Adam died in May. But before his death he had been able to render valuable service to the republican cause by helping to unite the various sections of the republican party, les vieilles barbes of 1848, the moderates who supported Thiers and the extremists who were led by Gambetta. The Adams brought about a meeting between Gambetta and Thiers. Le fou furieux and le vieillard sinistre found themselves called upon by the gravity of the political situation to sink their differences, and to unite their forces in opposition to MacMahon’s reactionary Government. This reconciliation practically assured the triumph of the republican cause. Adam had also been able to sell very advantageously a newspaper which Gambetta had recently founded, La Petite République. And the proceeds of this sale, so Gambetta himself admitted, furnished him with the sinews of war for his political campaign.
On the evening of Adam’s funeral his friend the ex-President Thiers, who himself had but three months to live, dragged his fourscore years up Mme. Adam’s staircase. “It was his wish and it is mine,” she said to her visitor, “that I should continue his life in my own.”
“I will help you in every way I can,” said Thiers.[279] Then he went on to impress upon her the importance of uniting their forces to win victory for the cause to which Adam had devoted his life.
There lay upon the table, among the numerous letters of sympathy Mme. Adam had received, one from Émile de Girardin. In the days of Mme. d’Agoult’s salon they had been great friends; but they ceased to meet when Juliette married Adam. He, it will be remembered, could never forgive Girardin for having killed in a duel Armand Carrel, his friend and collaborator on the National. Now Girardin wrote: “Adam in his life would not permit me to love him, will you permit it now he is dead?” “What am I to do?” Mme. Adam asked Thiers. “Let him come,” was Thiers’ advice. “In your salon, Girardin will feel that he is absolved from the guilt of Carrel’s death.... Moreover, you owe it to Adam to fill that vacancy in our ranks which his loss has created.”
Mme. Adam acted on her friend’s advice: she received Girardin, who became henceforth a constant habitué of her salon, and one of the most valuable assets of that Republican party from which hitherto he had held aloof. “Girardin is detested and at times is detestable,” wrote Mme. Adam, “but his friendship is the most faithful and courageous I have ever known.”[280]
Many another recruit did Mme. Adam’s charming persuasiveness enlist on the side of the opposition. The republican leaders were constantly appealing to her to see what she could do with first one, then another. One evening Gambetta said to her: “You have brought us Girardin; you have removed Raoul Duval from hostile influences; you are preserving for us the loyalty of many wavering friends; you are enrolling so many recruits, that now I ask you to do a very difficult thing—to attract Gallifet to our group.”[281] Needless to say, Gallifet was won over.
JULIETTE ADAM (JULIETTE LAMBER), 1879
Throughout that critical summer Mme. Adam, despite her personal grief, followed in breathless expectation and with feverish interest every development of political affairs. The conservatives, dismayed by the large republican majority returned in 1876, persuaded MacMahon to dissolve the Chamber in the following June. They also brought pressure to bear upon the President so as to induce him to manipulate the new elections. But all these reactionary efforts availed nothing. “We went out 363, we shall return 400,” said Gambetta of the Republican deputies, and though this prediction was not entirely fulfilled the Republican majority remained a substantial one, only thirty-three seats were lost. On the night of the 14th of October, when the results of the election were coming in, Mme. Adam was at the office of La République Française in the salon des tapisseries.[282] Through the open door she could hear Gambetta calling out the names of the elected. One of Gambetta’s secretaries, the brilliant Joseph Reinach, then a youth of twenty-one, now and again came into the salon and confirmed what she had overheard.
Two months earlier, at the urgent request of Thiers and Gambetta, she had reopened her salon and resumed her Wednesday and Friday dinner-parties. Now for some days after this triumphant election she had received her friends every evening. Gambetta had declared his readiness to lead the 330 republican deputies into the very heart of the citadel. Somehow or other the conservative ministers must be got rid of. They on their part were trying to persuade MacMahon to carry out another coup d’état. Gambetta and some of his friends were resolved in such an event to appeal to force. A discussion on this subject took place in Mme. Adam’s salon.[283] There, one evening, Girardin announced: “Fortou is preparing his coup d’état.” Fortou was Minister of the Interior in the seize Mai Cabinet. “Voisin (Préfet de Police) has told me,” continued Girardin, “that at any moment he may receive orders to arrest us all. He will not do so; he will send in his resignation. But on the day of that resignation we may all be arrested. And no doubt they will select one of Mme. Adam’s evenings for the raid.”
“Very well,” replied the Admiral Jauréguiberry, “we must prepare to defend ourselves.”
“With arms?” inquired Girardin.
“Why, of course,” replied the Admiral briefly.
“I was disappointed,” writes Mme. Adam, “to discover the timidity of some who were present. I became furious and cried out: ‘After all, one risks nothing worse than death in defending oneself.’
“My two hands were seized by General Billot and shaken violently, with an exclamation of ‘Bravo, comrade!’ which made me very proud.”
It was an amplification of this scene, doubtless, which caused the appearance in one of the newspapers of an article entitled “Attack on La Maison Sallandrouze.”
Happily, however, the expected raid never took place, for civil strife was averted. MacMahon, far from arresting Mme. Adam’s friends, called on them to form a government. The Dufaure Cabinet came into office in December 1877.
Most of the new ministers were habitués of Mme. Adam’s salon. The new Minister of Public Works, M. de Freycinet,[284] was Gambetta’s rival in her friendship. While for her Friday dinner-parties the Great Tribune in consultation with his hostess chose such fellow-guests as were likely to serve ce pouvoir occulte, which this statesman out of office was beginning to exercise, the Wednesday dinners were known as “The Freycinet Evenings.”
Mme. Adam’s friendship with M. de Freycinet has endured to the present day. Already, in the middle seventies, “so bleached,” writes Sir Sidney Colvin, “as to be known as la souris blanche,” he has lived to be a member of the War Cabinet of 1916.
Mme. Adam’s widowhood was still young when people began to speak of her re-marriage. “Several times over,” she writes, “rumour had married me to Gambetta.” Of another charming and wealthy Republican widow, Mme. Arnaud de l’Ariège, the same report was circulated. “Chacune son tour,” said Mme. Adam, laughing, to her supposed rival. And Mme. Arnaud replied: “Yes, but we know too well where Gambetta’s affections are fixed to believe any gossip about his marriage unless it should be to Mlle. L——”[285]
Far from becoming more intimate, as we shall see in the next chapter, Juliette Adam and Gambetta were now beginning to disagree. These differences and other reasons made her think of leaving Paris before her accustomed time. “As I emerge from my mourning,” she writes, “more than one among my friends begins to regard me rather as a woman than a widow.”[286] She was planning a new novel, Grecque; and in order to study a suitable background she resolved to visit Naples. How strained her relations with Gambetta were becoming was proved by their farewell. “It would have been better for me had you started a few weeks earlier,” said her friend. “Ah! if you had been able to play Napoléon, you would have been delighted to give me un petit air de Mme. de Staël,” she retorted.[287]