which may seem surprising in so fastidious a young woman. One would have thought there was a good deal about him which repelled her. Not only was he eighteen years older, but he was far from handsome, with a puny physique. A small, dumpy man, his legs were too short for his body, which gave him an odd, crab-like walk. His head was too big, with a huge hook nose and fishlike pale blue eyes, while his heavy, expressionless face was hidden by a goatee beard and a thick moustache whose long, waxed antennae he twirled constantly when nervous. He dressed badly, in sombre, clumsily cut clothes, and because he chain-smoked cigarettes his pockets were always full of tobacco ash. Slow, almost dull in manner, he spoke very little, only after careful thought and then with a sing-song, slightly German accent that was due to his Swiss upbringing.
On the other hand the Prince President possessed extraordinary charm, a charm on whose impact contemporaries remark again and again. Much of it came from the impression made by his calmness, gentleness and obvious kindliness – he was seldom known to lose his temper, and never with inferiors or servants – while he had beautiful manners. His lack of good looks was redeemed by an oddly fascinating expression, sphinx-like yet benign, and a remarkable smile which would suddenly light up his dark features. He seems to have been one of those rare human beings to whom, without knowing why, most people take an instinctive liking.
His lack of physical allure did not bother Eugenia since she was largely indifferent to male beauty. No one could have been uglier than her brother-in-law Alba, yet once she had loved Alba to distraction. (In middle age she once said, with obvious conviction, ‘After the first night it no longer matters much whether a man is handsome or ugly, and at the end of the first week it’s always the same thing.’) Nor is she likely to have succumbed to an arcane sexual chemistry. What Eugenia found attractive, long before she set eyes on him, was who Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte was – the heir of his uncle and the Napoleonic legend incarnate. A convinced Bonapartist, she had always been ready to devote herself to the imperial cause. Despite that humiliating attempt to seduce her at Saint-Cloud, she had written to Felix Bacciochi, shortly before the coup of 1851, to offer the Prince President financial assistance should it fail. (The gesture shows how closely she and her mother were watching his progress.) She was convinced that the Bonapartist cause would triumph in the end.
There was another reason why this complex young woman should find him immensely interesting, even if she did not fully realise it until later. He and his legend embodied power, enormous power, and as a husband he could offer her influence on a vast scale, something which in those days was largely denied to her sex. Generally the very few women who possessed influence on such a scale did not use it – like the insanely irresponsible Queen Isabella of Spain. Even so, Eugenia undoubtedly believed that the marriage might give her at least some chance of making the world a better place. For although she had by now abandoned her Fourierism and her socialism, she remained an idealist.
Finally, one should not overlook the simplest of all reasons why the prospect of marrying the Prince President appealed to Eugenia. In May 1852 she had reached the ripe old age of twenty-six and was only too well aware that, according to the harsh conventions of her time, she was entering spinsterhood. This was a state of life that automatically condemned a woman to a condition of pity and contempt, since during the first half of the nineteenth century it was very difficult for any woman without a husband to find a proper, respected role in society, however rich she might be in her own right.
Both mother and daughter must have been fully aware that in pursuing the Prince President of France they risked losing touch with reality.
On the other hand the Prince President possessed extraordinary charm, a charm on whose impact contemporaries remark again and again. Much of it came from the impression made by his calmness, gentleness and obvious kindliness – he was seldom known to lose his temper, and never with inferiors or servants – while he had beautiful manners. His lack of good looks was redeemed by an oddly fascinating expression, sphinx-like yet benign, and a remarkable smile which would suddenly light up his dark features. He seems to have been one of those rare human beings to whom, without knowing why, most people take an instinctive liking.
His lack of physical allure did not bother Eugenia since she was largely indifferent to male beauty. No one could have been uglier than her brother-in-law Alba, yet once she had loved Alba to distraction. (In middle age she once said, with obvious conviction, ‘After the first night it no longer matters much whether a man is handsome or ugly, and at the end of the first week it’s always the same thing.’) Nor is she likely to have succumbed to an arcane sexual chemistry. What Eugenia found attractive, long before she set eyes on him, was who Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte was – the heir of his uncle and the Napoleonic legend incarnate. A convinced Bonapartist, she had always been ready to devote herself to the imperial cause. Despite that humiliating attempt to seduce her at Saint-Cloud, she had written to Felix Bacciochi, shortly before the coup of 1851, to offer the Prince President financial assistance should it fail. (The gesture shows how closely she and her mother were watching his progress.) She was convinced that the Bonapartist cause would triumph in the end.
There was another reason why this complex young woman should find him immensely interesting, even if she did not fully realise it until later. He and his legend embodied power, enormous power, and as a husband he could offer her influence on a vast scale, something which in those days was largely denied to her sex. Generally the very few women who possessed influence on such a scale did not use it – like the insanely irresponsible Queen Isabella of Spain. Even so, Eugenia undoubtedly believed that the marriage might give her at least some chance of making the world a better place. For although she had by now abandoned her Fourierism and her socialism, she remained an idealist.
Finally, one should not overlook the simplest of all reasons why the prospect of marrying the Prince President appealed to Eugenia. In May 1852 she had reached the ripe old age of twenty-six and was only too well aware that, according to the harsh conventions of her time, she was entering spinsterhood. This was a state of life that automatically condemned a woman to a condition of pity and contempt, since during the first half of the nineteenth century it was very difficult for any woman without a husband to find a proper, respected role in society, however rich she might be in her own right.
Both mother and daughter must have been fully aware that in pursuing the Prince President of France they risked losing touch with reality.
Similar Books
