Thus, then, in accepting the responsibility which devolved upon him, the Emperor—before, as since, his overthrow—desired to establish before the world the following simple fact: that he did not launch the country into a perilous enterprise on account of contemptible motives, but felt himself encouraged, if not compelled to it, by the determined manifestations of public opinion.
The reader who has followed the above recital of the principal events of the reign of Napoleon III. must be convinced that he who became a prisoner at Wilhelmshöhe employed eighteen years of undisputed power in making France the most flourishing country in Europe, in allaying international hatred, and in protecting the independence of foreign States. When his personal efforts appeared to him unequal to realize all he meditated for the universal welfare, he voluntarily gave up Authority and called on the representatives of the people to take the most active part in the direction of affairs, thus establishing in France the widest and most complete system of liberty.
And now, because fortune has abandoned him, this great man is only considered by some in the light of a tyrant, who, to establish a Dynasty, ruthlessly precipitated his country into all the horrors of a merciless war.
We have recorded facts. Posterity will be the judge.
When the Empress read the telegram announcing that the Hohenzollern candidature was withdrawn, she said, in the presence of General Bourbaki, “It is infamous! The Empire will fall to rags!” (“L’Empire va tomber en quenouille!”)[131]
An extraordinary story, told by M. Welschinger, makes one wonder whether some of those surrounding the Empress in July, 1870, were in their right minds. It was proposed that the King of Prussia should be asked to write a letter to Napoleon III. to satisfy the énergumènes (fanatics, “of whom the Empress was one”), and the Duc de Gramont actually drafted and sent to the King a note of what His Majesty was to say! King William had been very pleased when he thought that all danger of war had vanished by the withdrawal of the Hohenzollern Prince from the Spanish candidature, “and in so uselessly and gratuitously wounding him the French Cabinet alienated the only person who could check Bismarck.”
King William was disgusted. “Was there ever such insolence?” he wrote to Queen Augusta. “They want me to appear before the world as a repentant sinner.”
When Benedetti asked the King to give “guarantees” that there should be no renewal of the Hohenzollern candidature, His Majesty said: “You ask me to make a promise for all time, and that, for every reason, I cannot do.”
Bismarck did the rest.
“There was neither insulter nor insulted at Ems. There was only the Chancellor’s manœuvre.” The French Cabinet played into the hands of Bismarck, whose one desire was that France should be responsible for the declaration of war. “It was Bismarck who wanted war, and we rendered him the service of declaring it.” M. Ollivier was pleased at the Hohenzollern’s withdrawal, and there the affair ought to have ended; “but,” says M. Welschinger, “a section of Deputies and of the Court—the Empress in particular—urged war.[132] While the business world was all in favour of peace, an artificial atmosphere environed the Cabinet—an atmosphere composed of M.P.s and hot-headed journalists—and accused Ministers of weakness. The numerical inferiority of the army was not the fault of the Emperor and his Ministers, but of the elected representatives of the nation. The Emperor’s health grew worse and worse, until he could no longer resist the war party.... We had an army numerically inferior, could not reckon on allies, and were in no way prepared for war. On July 6, after the Duc de Gramont’s speech, I heard on all sides, ‘It is war, it is war!’ The Cabinets of Austria and of England both blamed the declaration of war.”