Reared in different circumstances, and able to show his value otherwise than by starting on the road of revolution, which bordered very closely on anarchy, he might have become truly a great man. He had all the instincts of one—and all the imperfections. He was authoritative and could be very firm, but he tried always to be just, and avoided wounding others, even his adversaries, as much as it was possible for him to do so. He was invariably courteous, even in his exhibitions of rage, and essentially kind, a faithful friend, and a gallant enemy. Hated by those who had never known him, or met him personally, he contrived to fascinate all those who had done so; they always went away from him liking the man, even when condemning the politician. He had a careless manner in talking about his foes, which was superb in its way, and though he seldom spoke about himself, yet he liked to find that he was respected, feared, or even abused.
The one thing he never could have reconciled himself to would have been to be ignored, and this indignity was spared him. Perhaps it was better for his memory that he died in the full force of his talent, and before he had reached the maturity of his years—perhaps it was a pity. Who knows?
CHAPTER XXI
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?