Eugenie, Empress of the French.
John S. C. Abbott.
The city of Malaga, in Spain, was the birthplace of Eugenie, the Empress of the French. This quaint old Moorish town, containing about sixty thousand inhabitants, is situated on the shores of the Mediterranean, at the head of a bay which constitutes so fine a harbor that the city has been, for centuries, one of the most important seaports of the Spanish peninsula. Bleak, barren, rugged mountains encircle the city, approaching so near to the sea that there is scarcely room for the streets of massive, lofty stone houses, which are spread along the shore. These streets, as in all the old Moorish towns, are very narrow, many of them being not more than six or eight feet wide. The houses are large and high, and are built around a court-yard. The ruins of ancient fortifications and the battlements of a fine old Moorish castle add to the picturesque beauties of the crags, which rise sublimely in the rear of the town.The climate is almost tropical, and the market abounds with all the fruits and vegetables which ripen beneath an equatorial sun. Though most of the city presents but a labyrinth of intricate and narrow streets, there is one square around which the buildings are truly magnificent. This square, or public walk, called the Alameda, is the favorite resort of all the fashion and gayety and pleasure-seeking of the city. [129]
In the street of St. Juan de Dios, of Malaga, there was, in the early part of the present century, a wealthy, intelligent, and very attractive family residing in one of the most stately mansions. The master of the house was an opulent merchant from England, William Kirkpatrick, a Scotchman by birth. He had been the English consul at Malaga, and had married a young lady of Malaga, of remarkable beauty both of form and feature, Francisca Gravisne, the daughter of one of the ancient Spanish families.
They had three daughters, all of whom inherited the beauty, grace, and vivacity of their mother, blended with the strong sense and solid virtues of the father. The eldest of these daughters, Maria, was a young lady. of extraordinary beauty. She was tall, with features as if chiselled by a Grecian sculptor, beaming with animation, with brilliant eyes, ready wit, and possessing perfect command of all the graces of language and the attractions of manner. Blended Saxon and Spanish blood circled in her veins and glowed in her cheeks. Her exquisitely moulded form is represented to have been perfect.
Her two younger sisters, Carlotta and Henriquetta, were also far-famed for beauty, grace, intelligence, and all those virtues which give attractions to the social circle. Mr. Kirkpatrick was engaged in extensive commerce with England and America. His circle of acquaintance was consequently very extensive. All foreigners of distinction were welcomed to his hospitable board; and it was also the resort of the most refined and aristocratic native society of Malaga.
Among the guests who visited in this attractive family there was a Spanish noble, alike illustrious for his exalted birth, his large fortune, and his military prowess. A scar upon his face and a crippled limb were honorable wounds, which gave him additional claims to pre-eminence. He had joined the army of Napoleon, in the endeavor to liberate Spain from the despotism of the Bourbons. He was then known [130] by the name of Cipriano Palafox, Count of Theba. A strong attachment sprang up between this member of one of the old Spanish families and Senorita Maria Kirkpatrick, the daughter of the wealthy English merchant. They were married in 1819.
This marriage secured for the beautiful and highly accomplished Maria all the advantages which wealth and rank could confer. The count took his young and lovely bride, who was some years younger than himself, to Madrid, and presented her at court. She had enjoyed the advantages of both a Spanish and an English education. Her beauty, intelligence, and varied accomplishments rendered her a great favorite with the queen, Maria Christina, and she was elevated to the most influential post among the feminine offices,that of first lady of honor.
Her husband, Count Theba, soon received additional wealth and honor, inheriting from a deceased brother the title and estates of the Count of Montijo. Maria's sister, Carlotta, soon after married an English gentleman, her cousin Thomas, the son of her father's brother, John Kirkpatrick. This gentleman had accompanied Wellington to Spain, and had served as paymaster to the English army until 1814. As Maria's husband had espoused the cause of Napoleon, and had shed his blood in fighting against Wellington, the two extremes of political antagonism were represented in the family; and yet, so far as we can learn, harmoniously represented, for the passions which had inflamed that deadly conflict yielded to the ties of family affection. Both Thomas and his wife are now dead.
The third daughter, Henriquetta, married Count Cabarras, a very wealthy Spanish sugar-planter, residing near Velez Malaga. Her lot has been peculiarly tranquil and happy. She is probably, at the time of this writing, residing in pleas. ant retirement, with her husband, on their beautiful estate [131] in the south of sunny Spain, in the enjoyment of opulence and high position.
The Empress Eugenie is the daughter of the elder sister, Maria Kirkpatrick, and of Cipriano Palafox, double Count of Theba and of Montijo. She was born the 5th of May, 1826. English and Spanish blood are mingled in her veins. She has enjoyed all the advantages of an English, a French, and a Spanish education. She is familiar with the literature and the best society of the three realms, and in her person and features there are blended, in a remarkable degree, the grace and beauty of the highest specimens of the Spanish and Saxon races.
The death of her father, a few weeks before her birth, left Eugenuie an orphan in her earliest infancy. But she was blest with the training of a very excellent and highly educated mother. It is said that a part of her education was acquired in England, and. that she has enjoyed the advantages of the best schools in France. Thus she speaks English, Spanish, and French with equal fluency. There is no court in Europe where the claims of etiquette are more rigidly observed than in the royal palaces of Madrid. Eugenie, from childhood, has been so accustomed to all these forms, that she moves through the splendors of the Tuileries with ease and grace which charm every beholder.
John Kirkpatrick, who had married Eugenie's aunt, Carlotta, became subsequently a banker in Paris. In the year 1851, Maria the Countess of Montijo, with her daughter Eugenie, the Countess of Theba, visited Paris. The marvellous loveliness of Eugenie, the ease, grace, and perfect polish of her address, and her vivacity and wide intelligence, surrounded her with admirers. The classical regularity of her features, her exquisitely moulded form, her rich, soft auburn hair, and her large, expressive black eyes, arrested the attention of every observer. Equally at home in several languages, [132] and endowed with great powers of conversation and of fascination, the most distinguished, of all lands, gathered around her, rendering her that homage which genius everywhere yields to the perfection of feminine charms. One familiar with her has said:--
Her beauty was delicate and fair, from her English ancestry; while her grace was all Spanish, and her wit all French. These made her one of the most remarkable women in the French capital, though her independence of character and her English habits imparted to her more liberty of action than the restraints imposed on French demoiselles allow, and therefore exposed her to remark. There is not one well authenticated adventure which can be told to her disadvantage. The empress, besides her brilliant qualities, which make her the most lovely sovereign in Europe, is kind and generous; and in the few opportunities to test her higher qualities has displayed great courage and sense.
The emperor did not escape the fascination which all alike felt. The countess became the most brilliant ornament of the gay assemblies of the Tuileries; and when she rode along the Boulevards or the Champs Elysete, all eyes were riveted upon her. It is to the present day alike the testimony of all, who are favored with her acquaintance, that she is as amiable and as lovely in character as she is beautiful in person. No one can behold her countenance, beaming with intelligence, and witness her sweet smile, without the assurance that Eugenie is richly endowed with the most attractive graces which can adorn humanity.
The Countess of Theba, Eugenie, had been educated a --Catholic, and was reputed an earnest Christian of the Fenelon type. God only can judge the heart; but externally she manifested the utmost devotion to the claims of religion, and [133] was scrupulous in the observance of the rites of the church. The cavillers said, “she is a very rigid Catholic.” The devout said, “she is a very earnest Christian.” All alike acknowledged that she was the foe of irreligion in every form, and that the prosperity of the Church, in that great branch of Christianity to which she belonged, was dear to her heart.
It is reported that the Emperor of the French had previously met Eugenie, and admired her in the court circles of London, when he was an exile from his native land. He gave her a cordial welcome at the palace of the Tuileries, and friendship soon ripened into love. The marked religious character of Eugenie awakened sympathy in the bosom of the emperor. He had often taken occasion to say, in his public addresses, that while others had sustained Christianity as a “measure of state,” as a “political necessity,” he supported Christianity from a full conviction of its divine origin, and as thus indispensable to the welfare of nations and of men.
It is probable that the emperor, more familiar with the world, and having studied the workings of Protestant forms of Christianity in England and America, is more liberal in his denominational views. Still he regards Catholicism as the religion of France, and, while advocating the most perfect freedom of conscience, recognizes the papal church as the denomination to which he belongs, and to which he should give his fostering care. Thus the emperor and Eugenie found a bond of union in their religious convictions.
On the 22d of January, 1853, the emperor, in the following communication to the Senate, announced that Eugunie, the Countess of Theba, had consented to share with him the throne, in becoming his partner for life:--
In France, marriage is regarded both as a civil and a religious [136] rite, and both ceremonies are often accompanied with great solemnity and pomp. The marriage of the Emperor and Eugenie, the Countess of Theba, was celebrated at the Tuileries, on the 27th of January, 1853. The next day, which was Sunday, the religious ceremonies took place, with great splendor, at the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The Archbishop of Paris officiated. Probably a more brilliant assembly was never convened in France, or in the world, than the throng which then filled, to its utmost capacity, that venerable and capacious edifice. All the courts of Europe were represented, and nothing was wanting which wealth and rank and power and taste could give to contribute to the attractions of the spectacle.Gentlemen :--I yield myself to the wish so often manifested by the country in announcing to you my marriage. The union I contract is not in accord with the traditions of [134] the ancient policy. In that is its advantage. France, by her successive revolutions, is always rudely separated from the rest of Europe. Every sensible government should seek to introduce her to the bosom of the old monarchies. But this result will be much more surely attained by a policy just and frank, and by loyalty of transactions, than by royal alliances which create false security and often substitute the interest of families for the national interest. Moreover the examples of the past have left upon the minds of the people superstitious impressions. They have not forgotten that, for seventy years, foreign princes have ascended the steps of the throne, only to see their race dispersed or proscribed by war or by revolution. One woman only has seemed to bring happiness to France, and to live, more than others, in the memory of the people; and that woman, Josephine, the modest and excellent wife of General Bonaparte, was not of royal blood.
We must, however, admit that the marriage, in 1810, of Napoleon Bonaparte with Maria Louisa was a great event. It was a pledge for the future, a true satisfaction to the national pride, since the ancient and illustrious house of Austria, with which we had so long waged war, was seen to solicit an alliance with the elected chief of a new empire. Under the last reign, on the contrary, did not the self-love of the country suffer when the heir of the crown solicited, in Vain, during many years, the alliance of a royal house, and obtained, at last, a princess, accomplished, undoubtedly, but only in the secondary ranks, and of another religion?
When, in the face of ancient Europe, one is borne, by the force of a new principle, to the height of the ancient dynasties, it is not in endeavoring to give antiquity to his heraldry, and in seeking to introduce himself, at whatever cost, into the family of kings, that one can make.himself accepted. It is much more, in ever remembering his origin, in maintaining his appropriate character, and in taking, frankly, in [135] the face of Europe, the position of a parvenu,--a glorious title when one attains it by the free suffrage of a great people.
Thus obliged to turn aside from the precedents, followed until this day, my marriage becomes but a private affair. There remains only the choice of the person. The one who has become the object of my preference is of elevated birth. French in heart, and by the recollection of the blood shed by her father in the cause of the empire, she has, as a Spaniard, the advantage of not having, in France, a family to whom it might be necessary to give honors and dignities. Endowed with all the qualities of the mind, she will be the ornament of the throne, as, in the day of danger, she will become one of its most courageous supports. Catholic and pious, she will address the same prayers to Heaven with me for the happiness of France. By her grace and her goodness she will, I firmly hope, endeavor to revive, in the same position, the virtues of the Empress Josephine.
I come then, gentlemen, to say to France, that I have preferred the woman whom I love, and whom I respect, to one who is unknown, whose alliance would have advantages mingled with sacrifices. Without testifying disdain for any one, I yield to my inclinations, after having consulted my reason and my convictions. In fine, by placing independence, the qualities of the heart, domestic happiness, above dynastic prejudices and the calculations of ambition, I shall not be less strong because I shall be more free.
Soon, in repairing to Notre Dame, I shall present the empress to the people and to the army. The confidence they have in me assures me of their sympathy. And you, gentlemen, on knowing her whom I have chosen, will agree that, on this occasion again, I have been guided by Providence.
All the pomp of the Catholic service, all the opulence of the capital, all the beauty and brilliance of the court, all the grim majesty of the military, whatever was illustrious in science and art, every resource of celebrity, fascination, and lavish luxury were exhausted on the incidents and displays of this felicitous day. The imperial couple sat on two thrones erected in front of the high altar. Sublime and heavenly melody resounded beneath the lofty arches of the ancient pile. A numerous and gorgeous array of priests assisted. The great representatives of the army, of the senate, of the municipal authorities, of the diplomatic corps, delegations from the great cities of France, and the most brilliant and beautiful female leaders of fashion in the capital,--all were there. The agitation of the young empress, the focus of so many inquisitive eyes, during the ceremony, was extreme. It was necessary for the emperor to soothe and allay her emotions. All passed off happily and favorably; and everybody, except the fierce and implacable leaders of the dark and desperate factions, rejoiced at the consummation of the imperial nuptials.
These were nuptials inspired on both sides by affection and [137] esteem, and they have been followed, apparently, with far more happiness than has usually been found in a palace. The union of the emperor and Eugenie was a union of hearts. The emperor signalized his marriage by granting amnesty to nearly five thousand persons who were in banishment for political offences. The empress has proved herself all that France could desire in one occupying her exalted position. The nation is proud of the grace, beauty, and accomplishments which have now for fifteen years rendered Eugenie not only the brightest ornament of the Tuileries, but the most conspicuous queen of Europe. A sincere Christian, devotedly attached to the recognized Christian faith of France, -the faith in which she was born and educated,--she secures the homage of all the millions who bow before the supremacy of the Catholic religion; and her influence, in the court, has ever been ennobling and purifying.
In more than one scene of danger Eugenie has proved herself the possessor of that heroism which sheds such an additional lustre upon one destined to the highest walks of earthly life. As a wife, as a mother, and as an empress, history must award to Eugenie a very high position of merit. The city of Paris voted the empress, upon the occasion of her marriage, a large sum-we think about six hundred thousand dollars--for the purchase of diamonds. It was a matter even of national pride that the Empress of France, the bride of the people's emperor, should be splendidly arrayed. But there was no one who could more easily forego these adornings than Eugenie. The glitter of gems could add but little to that loveliness which captivated all beholders. Eugenie had ample wealth of her own. The emperor had a well-filled purse. There was no danger that her jewel caskets would be empty.
Gratefully Eugenie accepted the munificent gift, having first obtained the consent of the donors that she should devote [138] it to founding a charitable. institution for the education of young girls belonging to the working classes. Here she watches over her sisters of humbler birth, with heartfelt sympathy, alike interested in their physical, mental, and religious culture.
In the year 1855 the emperor and Eugenie visited the court of Queen Victoria. They were received with every possible demonstration of enthusiasm. England seemed to wish to blot out the memory of Waterloo, and to atone for the wrongs she had inflicted upon the first Napoleon, by the cordiality with which she greeted and the hospitality with which she entertained his successor and heir. There was English blood in the veins of Eugenie, and English traits adorned her character. It is not too much to say that she was universally admired in the court of St. James. The London journals of that day were full of expressions of admiration. It was said that Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle were never honored with the presence of a guest more truly queenly. In purity of character, in sincerity of Christian faith, Eugenic and Victoria must have found mutual sympathy, though one was a communicant of the Church of England, and the other of the Church of Rome.
Eugenie loved England. Her grandfather was an Englishman. Many of her dearest relatives were English; much of her education was English. The emperor, a man of warm affections, could not forget the hospitable welcome he had received in London, when an exile, banished by Bourbon law from his own country, simply because his name was Napoleon Bonaparte. The emperor has also ever been ready to render the tribute of his admiration to the institutions of England.
Thus both Louis Napoleon and Eugenie could be happy as the guests of Queen Victoria. There was moral sublimity in the event itself. It constituted a new era in the history of the rival nations. The Emperor of France and the Queen [139] of England met in the palaces of the British kings, and France left a kiss upon the cheek of England. The kiss was given and received in perfect sincerity. On both sides it expressed the hope that war should be no more,--that henceforth France and England should live in peace, in cooperation, in friendship.
This visit of the emperor and empress to the court of England's queen is said to have been the first instance in the world in which a reigning French monarch set foot upon the soil of his hereditary foes. Not long after this Queen Victoria and Prince Albert returned the compliment, and England's queen became the guest of Eugenie at the Tuileries, St. Cloud, and Fontainebleau. Victoria was received by the Parisian population, in the Champs Elysee and along the Boulevards, with the same enthusiasm, with the same tumultuous and joyful acclaim with which Eugenie had been received in the streets of London. There is no city in the world so well adapted to festal occasions as Paris. All the resources of that brilliant capital were called into requisition to invest the scene with splendor. The pageant summoned multitudes to Paris from all the courts of Europe.
On the 16th of March, 1856, the Empress Eugenie gave birth to her first and only child. The young prince received the baptismal name of Napoleon Eugene Louis Jean Joseph. His birth caused great joy throughout France, as it would leave the line of succession undisputed. This gave increasing assurance that France, upon the decease of the emperor, would be saved from insurrection and the conflict of parties. From all parts of France congratulations were addressed to the emperor. In the emperor's reply to the Senate he said:--
The Senate has shared my joy on learning that Heaven has given me a son; and you have hailed, as a propitious event, the birth of a child of France. It is intentionally that [140] I use that expression. It is because, gentlemen, when an heir is born, who is destined to perpetuate a national system, that child is not only the scion of a family, but he is, also, in truth, the son of the whole country, and that name indicates his duties. If this were true under the ancient monarchy, which represented more exclusively the privileged classes, how much more is it so now, when the sovereign is the elect of the nation, the first citizen of the country, and the representative of the interests of all. I thank you for the prayers you have offered for the child of France and for the empress.
To the congratulations of the Legislative Corps the emperor responded:--
I have been much affected by the manifestation of your feelings at the birth of the son whom Providence has so kindly granted me. You have hailed in him the hope, so eagerly entertained, of the perpetuity of a system which is regarded as the surest guaranty of the general interests of the country. But the unanimous acclamations which surround his cradle do not prevent me from reflecting on the destiny of those who have been in the same place, and under similar circumstances. If I hope that his lot may be more happy, it is, in the first place, because, confiding in Providence, I cannot doubt its protection, when, seeing it raise up, by a concurrence of extraordinary circumstance, all that which Providence was pleased to cast down forty years ago; as if it had wished to strengthen, by martyrdom and by suffering, a new dynasty springing from the ranks of the people.
This child, consecrated in its cradle by the peace now at hand, and by the benedictions of the Holy Father, brought by telegraph an hour after his birth; in fine, by the acclamations of the French people, whom the emperor loved so well,--this [141] child I hope will prove worthy of the destinies which await him.
No man can be in power without having bitter enemies. There have been a few attempts at the assassination of Louis Napoleon. The most desperate was that of Orsini, an Italian refugee. This wretch and his two confederates, with their murderous hand-grenades, hesitated not to strike down in bloody death scores of gentlemen and ladies crowding the avenues to the opera, if they could thus reach the single victim at whom they aimed. On the evening of the 14th of January, 1858, as the emperor and empress were approaching the Grand Opera in their carriage, accompanied by many of the dignitaries of the court, and followed and preceded by a crowd of carriages, just as they drew near the opera house, where the throng was greatest and the speed of the horses was checked into a slow walk, these assassins threw beneath the imperial carriage several bombs, or hand-grenades of terrific power. These balls, each about the size of an ostrich's egg, were ingeniously constructed so as to burst by the concussion of their fall.
The explosion was dreadful in power and deadly in its effects. The street was immediately strown for quite a distance with the dead and the mutilated bodies of men and horses. The imperial carriage was tossed and rocked as if upon the billows of a stormy sea. The glasses were shivered and the wood-work splintered; and yet, as by a miracle, both the emperor and empress escaped without any serious injury. The Empress Eugenie manifested, in the midst of this tumult, a spirit of calmness and heroism worthy of her exalted position. Shrieks and groans resounded all around her. She knew not but that the emperor was mortally wounded. But without any outcry, without any fainting, she seemed to forget herself entirely, in anxiety for her spouse. When some [142] persons attempted to break open the door of the shattered vehicle, Eugenie, supposing them to be the assassins, with their poniards in their hands, then herself before the emperor, that with her own body she might protect him from the dagger-thrusts.
Before this attempt at assassination Eugenie was greatly beloved by all France. But the heroism which she manifested on this occasion added to that love emotions of profound homage and admiration. Even the imperial throne was strengthened by the conviction that the empress was equal to any emergency; and that, should disaster darken upon the empire, as in the past, Eugenie, unlike Maria Louisa, the “daughter of the Caesars,” would develop the imperial nature with which God had endowed her, and would be equal to her responsibilities, however weighty they might be.
On the 3d of May, 1859, the emperor announced to the French people that he was about to leave France, to take command of the army of Italy. In the announcement he said:
The object of this war is to restore Italy to herself, and not to cause her to change masters. We shall then have, upon our frontiers, a friendly people who will also owe to us their independence.
On the 10th of May the emperor, after having appointed the Empress Eugenie regent during his absence, and having solemnly confided her and also their son to the valor of the army, the patriotism of the national guard, and to the love and devotion of the entire nation, was prepared to leave the Tuileries for his Italian campaign.
It was five o'clock in the afternoon of a beautiful May day. The carriage of the emperor, an open barouche, stood before the grand entrance of the palace. A brilliant retinue of carriages, filled with the military household of the emperor, was also in line in the court-yard. A mounted squadron of the [143] guards, glittering with burnished helmets and coats of mail, was gathered there, in military array, to escort the cortege through the Rue Rivoli, the Place de la Bastile, and the Rue de Lyon to the railway station for Marseilles. An immense crowd of the populace was gathered in the court-yard to witness the departure of the emperor.
A few minutes after five o'clock several officers of the emperor's household descended the stairs, followed immediately by the emperor, with the empress leaning upon his arm. They were followed by several ladies and gentlemen of the court. As soon as the emperor and empress appeared the air was rent with shouts of “Vive l'empereur,” which burst from the lips of the crowd. The emperor uncovered his head and waved his hat in response to this cordial greeting. Then, bidding them adieu, and shaking hands with several of the ladies, he handed the empress into the carriage and took a seat by her side. The imperial cortege then left the courtyard, passing out through the triumphal arch. The emperor was in a simple travelling dress, and wore a cap which permitted every expression of his countenance to be distinctly seen. He was apparently calm, and a smile was upon his lips as he met the ever-increasing enthusiasm of the crowd. But the eyes of Eugenie were red and swollen, and she could not conceal the tears which rolled down her cheeks. With one hand she lovingly clasped the hand of the emperor, while with the other she frequently wiped away the tears which would gush from her eyes.
The guards followed the carriage, but did not surround it. The crowd was so great that the horses could only advance on the slow walk. Consequently the people came up to the very steps of the carriage and many addressed words to the emperor, of sympathy and affection. It was a very touching scene. The crowd was immense. The windows of all the houses, the balconies, the roofs even, along the whole line of [144] the route were filled with spectators. The streets were hung with flags and decorated with garlands of flowers; while on all sides shouts ascended of “Vive l'empereur!” “Victoire!” “Dieu vous garde!”
At the Place de la Bastile the populace, in their enthusiasm, began to take the horses from the carriage that they might triumphantly draw the emperor themselves. For a moment the emperor was quite overcome with emotion in view of these proofs of confidence and love. Standing up in the carriage, he addressed the multitude, saying, “My friends, do not delay me; time is precious.” Instantly they desisted, with renewed shouts of “Vive l'empereur!” The crowd now gathered so closely around the carriage that the emperor reached out both hands and cordially grasped all the hands which were extended towards him. The affecting and the ludicrous were singularly blended in the remarks which were addressed to the emperor and the empress. One said, “Sire, you have victory in your eyes.” Another said, “If you want more soldiers, don't forget us.” A woman, noticing the tears streaming down the cheeks of the empress, exclaimed, soothingly, “Don't cry, don't cry; he will soon come back again.” A sturdy man endeavored to add to the words of solace as he leaned his head into the carriage, saying tenderly to the empress, “Don't cry; we will take care of you and the boy.”
At the station of the Lyons railroad many of the cabinet ministers and a large number of distinguished members of the court, gentlemen and ladies, were present. Prince Napoleon, son of Jerome, was there with his young bride, Princess Clotilde, daughter of Victor Emanuel. The Princess Matilda, Prince and Princess Murat were also there.
“It was a touching scene,” writes Julie de Marguerittes;
the waiting-room crowded with mothers, wives, sisters, and [145] friends,--tears and sobs making their way spite of imperial example, spite of court etiquette. At length the moment of departure arrived. The emperor again embraced the empress and entered the car amidst the deafening shouts of enthusiasm. All was ready. The chief director went up to the imperial car and asked if he might give the signal to depart. The emperor answered in the affirmative. And so amidst the shouts of the multitude, which echoed far along the road, the car bearing the fortunes of France, left the capital.
The empress returned to the palace, where she reigned as Regent of France until the return of the emperor. The following was the form of the Imperial announcement of the regency:--
Napoleon, by the grace of God and the national will, Emperor of the French,
To all present and to come, greeting.
Wishing to give to our well-beloved wife, the empress, marks of the great confidence we repose in her, and, seeing that we intend to take the head of the army of Italy, we have resolved to confer, as we do confer, by these presents, on our well-beloved wife, the empress, the title of Regent, that she may exercise its functions during our absence, in conformity with our instructions and orders, such as we shall have made known in the general order of the service that we shall have established, which will be copied into the book of state.
We desire that the empress shall preside, in our name, over the Privy Council and the Council of Ministers, etc.
All the decrees and state papers were presented to Eugenie, who appended to them her signature in these terms :-- [146]
The emperor entered Genoa on the 12th. No language can do justice to the enthusiasm with which he was received. On the day of his arrival at Genoa, the wife of the Sardinian minister, at Paris, presented Eugenie with a magnificent bouquet, which had arrived, in perfect preservation, from the ladies in Genoa. It came from the most distinguished ladies of the city. In the accompanying address they said:--
The ladies of Genoa entreat your Majesty, who so nobly partakes in the magnanimous feelings of the emperor, to accept these flowers, which they would have strowed on your path had you accompanied your august husband on the entrance into Genoa. May these flowers be the symbols of the immortal wreaths of victory which history will twine round the brow of Napoleon III., and will bequeath to his son as the most precious ornaments of the imperial diadem.
Our brief sketch of the empress must here terminate. We would gladly speak of her devotion to institutions of learning and benevolence; of her visits to the hospitals where the sick languish, and to the asylums where the deaf gaze lovingly upon her smiles, and where the blind listen almost entranced to the melody of her loving voice. France has had two empresses who will ever be gratefully remembered by the nation, Josephine and Eugenie. Neither of them were of royal blood, but both of them were endowed, richly endowed, with that nobility which comes from God alone. Both were crowned by mortal hands on earth; we cannot doubt that one has already received, and that the other will yet receive, that diadem of immortality which God places upon the victor's brow.
