and Saint-Cloud, and found no difficulty in doing so. Félix Bacciochi, the chef-de-protocol (recently promoted to chamberlain), whom they had met in 1849, was only too ready to oblige. No doubt he fancied he could still see possibilities in Doña Eugenia; he retrieved from his files her letter of November 1851, offering financial aid for the Bonaparte cause – which so far he had not bothered to show to Louis-Napoleon – and now gave it to him. When she and her mother attended the receptions, however, everything was very decorous, the Prince President behaving impeccably.
Louis-Napoleon had already revived the imperial hunt, installing a vast pack of hounds at Fontainebleau, where Eugenia was invited to a meet on 13 November. More than a firm seat and ability to take fences were required because there was so little jumping, the field being expected to show a command of dressage as well as skill at finding their way through the forest. Lent a big English thoroughbred, she impressed everyone by her horsemanship and was the first up with the hounds when they caught their stag. Next day, Louis-Napoleon sent her the horse as a present, the start of a whirlwind courtship. ‘You can’t imagine what people are saying about me since I was given that beastly horse’, an embarrassed Eugenia told a friend at the Spanish embassy. Soon she would have good reason for feeling self-conscious. Everyone in Paris was beginning to watch her with fascination, especially if they saw her talking to the Prince President.
On 21 November a small ball was given at Saint-Cloud, to mark the first day of a long-awaited referendum in which every adult French citizen (women excepted) would be asked to approve the restoration of the Napoleonic Empire. The ball’s guest list was largely restricted to the future emperor’s leading supporters, many of whom looked more like adventurers than politicians. The Austrian ambassador, Baron Hübner, observed disdainfully that the list included ‘a few Bonapartes together with a mob of obscure creatures who were equally inelegant’. He agreed with a haughty old French lady that the atmosphere was definitely ‘a little too democratic’, adding that ‘this sort of thing and, still more, democratic manners, is certainly not to Louis-Napoleon’s taste. But as a creation of universal suffrage, he can scarcely deny his own roots, and at such a time he would certainly be most unwise not to stress them. However, he’s going to find it rather expensive.’ The ambassador’s assessment did not do justice to the shrewd Prince President, who knew the value of moving with the times.
Professionally sharp-eyed, the Austrian also noticed with interest that ‘the young and beautiful Mlle de Montijo was being paid a great deal of attention by the President’. What Baron Hübner is unlikely to have known is that Doña Eugenia, as a committed Bonapartist of very long standing, was geninely delighted by the prospect of a Napoleonic restoration, which had been her dream since childhood. Needless to say, nothing could have endeared her more to Louis-Napoleon.
‘Mlle de Montijo, a young Spanish blonde of the highest birth has been the object of the Prince’s attentions ever since her stay at Fontainebleau’, the Comte de Viel Castel carefully recorded in his diary for 25 November. He comments with considerable insight (especially remarkable since it was the first time that he had set eyes on Eugenia) that ‘The young lady certainly has a most prepossessing manner and does not lack a keen sense of humour, but she is much too strong minded ever to be ruled by her heart or her emotions.’
The Second Empire was proclaimed on 2 December, followed by a Te Deum at Notre Dame. In every city throughout France cannon roared out salutes, church bells pealed, bands played Napoleonic marches and there was a public holiday – all without a single hostile demonstration. The Prince President had become Napoleon III, Emperor of the
Louis-Napoleon had already revived the imperial hunt, installing a vast pack of hounds at Fontainebleau, where Eugenia was invited to a meet on 13 November. More than a firm seat and ability to take fences were required because there was so little jumping, the field being expected to show a command of dressage as well as skill at finding their way through the forest. Lent a big English thoroughbred, she impressed everyone by her horsemanship and was the first up with the hounds when they caught their stag. Next day, Louis-Napoleon sent her the horse as a present, the start of a whirlwind courtship. ‘You can’t imagine what people are saying about me since I was given that beastly horse’, an embarrassed Eugenia told a friend at the Spanish embassy. Soon she would have good reason for feeling self-conscious. Everyone in Paris was beginning to watch her with fascination, especially if they saw her talking to the Prince President.
On 21 November a small ball was given at Saint-Cloud, to mark the first day of a long-awaited referendum in which every adult French citizen (women excepted) would be asked to approve the restoration of the Napoleonic Empire. The ball’s guest list was largely restricted to the future emperor’s leading supporters, many of whom looked more like adventurers than politicians. The Austrian ambassador, Baron Hübner, observed disdainfully that the list included ‘a few Bonapartes together with a mob of obscure creatures who were equally inelegant’. He agreed with a haughty old French lady that the atmosphere was definitely ‘a little too democratic’, adding that ‘this sort of thing and, still more, democratic manners, is certainly not to Louis-Napoleon’s taste. But as a creation of universal suffrage, he can scarcely deny his own roots, and at such a time he would certainly be most unwise not to stress them. However, he’s going to find it rather expensive.’ The ambassador’s assessment did not do justice to the shrewd Prince President, who knew the value of moving with the times.
Professionally sharp-eyed, the Austrian also noticed with interest that ‘the young and beautiful Mlle de Montijo was being paid a great deal of attention by the President’. What Baron Hübner is unlikely to have known is that Doña Eugenia, as a committed Bonapartist of very long standing, was geninely delighted by the prospect of a Napoleonic restoration, which had been her dream since childhood. Needless to say, nothing could have endeared her more to Louis-Napoleon.
‘Mlle de Montijo, a young Spanish blonde of the highest birth has been the object of the Prince’s attentions ever since her stay at Fontainebleau’, the Comte de Viel Castel carefully recorded in his diary for 25 November. He comments with considerable insight (especially remarkable since it was the first time that he had set eyes on Eugenia) that ‘The young lady certainly has a most prepossessing manner and does not lack a keen sense of humour, but she is much too strong minded ever to be ruled by her heart or her emotions.’
The Second Empire was proclaimed on 2 December, followed by a Te Deum at Notre Dame. In every city throughout France cannon roared out salutes, church bells pealed, bands played Napoleonic marches and there was a public holiday – all without a single hostile demonstration. The Prince President had become Napoleon III, Emperor of the
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