France from Behind the Veil: Fifty Years of Social and Political Life

by Princess Catherine Radziwill

Much has been said concerning the resignation of M. Casimir Périer, and for a long time it was believed even among people who ought to have known better that he had retired owing to threats which the German Ambassador, Count Munster, had uttered at the time of the first Dreyfus affair. I have strong reasons to believe that it was nothing of the kind which influenced him. The legend of Captain Dreyfus having been a German spy exploded long ago, and Count Munster never found himself under the least necessity of resorting to threats, though with a certain amount of justice he may have felt disgusted at the way the person of his Sovereign was dragged into the disreputable affair.

The sole reason of M. Casimir Périer’s retirement lay in the sincere conviction that very soon got hold of him, that he would not be allowed to do what he liked, or even to attempt to resist the rising tide of Radicalism which he would have preferred to keep down. He was rich, independent, and of an easy and lazy temperament, which made him impatient of the resistance which his best intentions met from the very people who ought to have appreciated them.

He soon realised that if he clung to position he would be overturned as were his predecessors, Marshal MacMahon and M. Thiers, and rather than be told to go away he preferred to take leave of uncongenial colleagues, and to retire with all the honours of war. He had made many friends during his short tenure of office, but had also contrived to acquire many enemies, and somehow the fact of the existence of these last jarred upon his nerves, influencing him perhaps more than it should, because those in high places have no right to be too sensitive. One cannot change one’s character, however, and that of M. Casimir Périer could not brook the thorns which were entwined with the roses that strewed his path. He showed, on his retirement, an obstinacy with which he has been very bitterly reproached by his personal friends, for he did so in spite of the supplications of all who composed his immediate entourage. He declared he should go away, and go away he did.

He had been on very good terms with all the foreign Ambassadors and diplomats accredited at the Elysée, and these, one and all, bitterly regretted his departure. M. Casimir Périer had tact and great knowledge of the world, a quality that his predecessors more or less lacked. Perhaps it was from this cause that during the few short months of his Presidency the relations of the French Government with the German Embassy had become more cordial than had been the case since the war.

Talking of the German Embassy, I have already mentioned Count Munster. He was a great friend of mine, and perhaps one of the ablest men, under his lazy indolent manner, that the German diplomatic service has ever possessed. His wife having been English, he liked England better than any other nation, not excepting his own, in certain cases. He looked like an Englishman, too, and nothing pleased him more than to be taken for one. Essentially a grand seigneur of the old school, he was incapable of meanness, and even in his diplomatic relations he always avoided saying anything that he did not really think or believe to be the truth. Placed in a very delicate position in Paris, where German diplomats were strenuously avoided by all those who were not obliged to receive them, he contrived even there to make a position for himself, still better, perhaps, than Prince Hohenlohe, notwithstanding the fact that the latter had relatives among the society of the Faubourg St. Germain, where he had been warmly welcomed before the war, but which gave him the cold shoulder when he returned to Paris in an official capacity after the disasters of 1870. And yet Prince Hohenlohe had far more conciliatory manners than Count Munster, and was a far pleasanter man in social relations; also, perhaps, he had more shrewdness than the latter, and certainly was more amenable to compromise if the necessity for such occurred. But the Count made himself respected wherever he appeared, I mean respected in the sense that he conveyed the impression that he would never allow himself to be trifled with, whilst always ready to meet his opponents in everything except in yielding to them.

This digression has led me far away from M. Casimir Périer and his retirement from public life, and I must return in order to relate the circumstances which followed upon his resignation. To say the least of it, his action considerably embarrassed not only his ministers, but also the leaders of the different parties in both Chambers.

For the second time within one year the country was called upon to elect a President of the Republic, and for the second time the event came as a total surprise upon France and upon its politicians. Once more candidates made themselves heard, and once again, in presence of those who pretended that they had the best right not to be passed by in this political Derby, an outsider won the prize, and M. Félix Faure, about whom no one had thought, was elected to the Presidency of the French Republic.

M. Félix Faure was chiefly known because he had been vice-president of the famous Ligue des Patriotes, the president of which was then, and till his death in the early months of 1914, the ardent Paul Déroulède. This fact alone would have been sufficient to excite the apprehensions of Germany, and M. Faure understood this so well that he at once made up his mind to pose outright as a partisan of the Russian alliance, that dream of all French political men ever since the establishment of the Third Republic.

M. Félix Faure was far from being a stupid man: he had his points of ridicule which perhaps did him more harm than real defects would have done. He had vanity to an inordinate degree, loved luxury and splendour, and enjoyed the external advantages of his new position with an almost childish joy. He fondly imagined that he had been born to the purple which had been thrown upon his shoulders, and without the instincts of a parvenu he yet behaved like one.

He had, however, a far greater knowledge of politics than he has ever been given credit for, and he was a sincere patriot, though his patriotism was an essentially selfish one. It is to be doubted whether he ever would have reconciled himself to a return to the life of an ordinary citizen, and perhaps the greatest luck of a life which was very lucky, when all is said and done, was his death when still in the enjoyment of the privileges of a position he had grown to love.