Napoleon III and the French Second Empire

by Roger D. Price

  areas of the south and in Legitimist dominated zones of the west. The Second Empire was proclaimed on 2 December 1852, a propitious date, the anniversary not only of Louis-Napoléon’s own successful coup, but of both the coronation of his uncle in 1804 and the first Emperor’s great victory at Austerlitz in 1805.

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  The authoritarian Empire

  Objectives and achievements

  The Second Empire would see major structural changes in the economy and society as well as innovations in the system of government. One of the fundamental

  questions to concern us will be the effect of these on political behaviour; another will be how to escape from the deforming prism of republican historiography. The intentions of Napoléon III, whose personal power had been greatly reinforced by the coup, were obviously of considerable significance. As we have seen, the reputation of this strange man, inspired by a belief in his own destiny, suffered irreparably from the catastrophic defeat of the French armies in 1870. However, he cannot be dismissed (as he was by some contemporaries) as ‘Napoléon the Little’

  (Hugo). The objectives of the new Emperor, his Napoleonic ideas, were clear. He intended to depoliticise government through the establishment of a strong and stable executive power capable of promoting social and economic modernisation and to ‘close the era of revolution by satisfying the legitimate needs of the people’.

  The means to be employed included the restoration of the political and

  administrative institutions conceived by Napoléon I, together with severe curbs imposed upon the activities of political ‘parties’. The Emperor, his authority legitimised by the popular vote, would serve as an almost mystical link between the state and society. Popular sovereignty would itself survive through the plebiscitory process and eventually, once social stability had been secured, through the gradual and partial re-establishment of parliamentary institutions. In the meantime, a senate made up of 180 senators was appointed, named for life, to include senior 25

  officials and military officers, representatives of the Church and of business, together with the imperial princes and various other dignitaries. Its role was, through the mechanism of the senatus consultum, to interpret and amend the constitution. It was also supposed to serve as the guardian of liberty by ensuring that laws were not introduced contrary to the constitution, to religion, morality, individual liberty and equality, to the sanctity of property and the security of France. In theory, the Senate then possessed considerable power; in practice, composed as it was of aged pensioners of the regime, it would do little to oppose the wishes of the government. Of far greater importance was the Corps législatif.

  With just over 260 members, elected by manhood suffrage, it had the right to vote on legislative and taxation proposals, but not to initiate legislation. Even during its most authoritarian phase the regime was never able to ignore entirely the opinions of a body, with potential power, made up of representatives of the social elite.

  Careful selection of candidates was thus seen as essential. The responsibility for actually drafting laws and administrative regulations, and for discussing

  amendments proposed by the Corps législatif rested with the 40 or 50 members, primarily jurists, of the Council of State ( Conseil d’Etat). This, the supreme administrative tribunal, now received considerable political power, although it could be held in check with comparative ease by a government which was able to dismiss its members at will from their lucrative positions. Furthermore, its powers were resented bitterly by those whose legislative efforts it criticised – ministers, civil servants and deputies.

  The regime was fortunate in that it coincided with a worldwide period of

  economic growth. Many of its ‘achievements’ might be regarded as simply

  coincidental. However, it would probably be more accurate to accept that the impact of trends in the international economy were reinforced internally by substantial government-inspired efforts to increase infrastructure investment, especially in roads, railways and the electric telegraph, as the means of achieving a transport ‘revolution’. The railway network which had been composed of 3, 230

  kilometres in discontinuous sections in 1851 had expanded to a network of 17, 200

  kilometres by 1870. Furthermore, road links to railway stations had also been substantially improved. This, along with a marked reduction in tariff protection, secured through the negotiation of customs treaties with the country’s main trading partners, beginning with Britain in 1860, was intended to ensure the development of more integrated and increasingly competitive markets for both agricultural and manufactured goods. The aim was to create a business environment conducive to investment in modern technology, with capital provided by new investment banks 26

  and investment facilitated by making it easier in law to establish joint stock companies with limited liability. Substantial capital was also to be mobilised in order to finance the creation of a capital city fit for the empire, with broad boulevards flanked by new commercial and residential buildings, allowing easy movement between the railway stations and facilitating, if necessary, the

  maintenance of military control through strategically placed barracks, fewer obstacles to cavalry charges and clear fields of fire for artillery. Similar (if less ambitious) developments graced most provincial cities. Along with enhanced

  opportunities for profit, it was hoped that large-scale investment would provide employment opportunities, greater security and improved rewards for the masses and, in so doing, contribute to the preservation of social stability. The objectives were clear, but economic and social modernisation takes time. Additionally, it was impossible to insulate the country against the vagaries of the international economic cycle or climatically induced harvest failures, as well as the confidence-sapping impact of international or internal political crises. As a result, these far-reaching economic and social objectives were attained only partially. Moreover, governmental intervention in economic affairs provoked considerable hostility from a variety of special interest groups; neither did it follow that the improved living conditions would automatically promote a greater sense of loyalty to the regime. Even so, the imperial years saw considerable progress in terms of

  economic modernisation and the improvement of living standards. This was

  symbolised by the virtual disappearance, as a consequence of market integration resulting from improved communications of the age-old subsistence crises, of the successive dearths which had caused so much misery and widespread popular

  protest as recently as 1845–7 and again in 1853–6. The continuing improvements in agricultural productivity as well as increased migration to the cities had the effect of easing population pressure on the resources of the countryside. In contrast with the long period of price depression from 1817 to 1851, the prices paid to farmers for their produce rose almost continuously in response to growing urban demand.

  However, if the various forms of farm income – profits, rents and wages – were all rising, this did not eliminate social tension in the countryside. Particularly in the 1860s, as the long established situation in which rising population densities had reinforced the power of the social elites who controlled access to scarce resources came towards an end, peasant farmers and even agricultural labourers clearly were developing a greater sense of independence. In the towns, too, the rapid growth of employment opportunities ensured that workers’ real incomes began to rise from the late 1850s for the first time since the end of the First Empire. Although the living 27

  standards of the masses remained extremely poor by twentieth-century standards and harsh working and living conditions continued to result in widespread poor health, chronic insecurity and premature death, the Second Empire should still be seen as a period when the good years outnumbered the bad, when the France of Balzac was transformed into that described with equal literary brilliance by Emile Zola.

  It was during the first decade, certainly un
til 1857, that the personal power of Napoléon III was at its peak. Ministers were convoked twice a week to discuss an agenda drawn up by the Emperor. They provided information, he took decisions.

  The tradition of ministerial responsibility to parliament (developed since 1814) was annulled and the Corps législatif rendered largely quiescent. These were years in which continued political repression and close cooperation with reactionary and clerical forces characterised the regime. Even during this period, however, implementation of governmental decisions was to be obstructed by a complex of often conflicting vested interest groups, as well as the practical difficulties of administrative control and finance, and by vacillation on the part of the head of state himself. Additionally, the new regime was dependent inescapably upon the

  aristocratic and wealthy grands bourgeois servants of previous regimes. Most ministers were conservative ex-Orleanists (e.g. Magne, Fould, Rouher) or

  representatives of the former dynastic opposition (Baroche). Of men who might be considered genuine Bonapartists, there were remarkably few. Napoléon’s

  frustrations are said to have led to the exasperated comment: ‘What a government is mine! The Empress is Legitimist; Napoléon-Jérôme republican; Morny

  Orleanist; I am myself a socialist. The only Bonapartist is Persigny and he is mad’

  (Plessis 1985: 54). Implementation of policy decisions depended upon the

  efficiency and goodwill of these men and of administrators drawn from similar backgrounds, and the Emperor was inevitably forced to make compromises.

  The political system of Napoléon III

  The power of an apparently monolithic, centralised, hierarchical administration was reduced substantially by a combination of vested interests, localism,

  established habits and respect for the rule of law. The linchpin of the system – the Prefect, responsible for the whole range of government activities at departmental level – was himself subject to complex pressures from ministers, deputies,

  competing administrative hierarchies, mayors and the local notables who gathered 28

  regularly on an informal basis, at agricultural shows and at meetings of chambers of commerce and of the departmental councils ( conseils généraux). Dependent on their routine collaboration, especially during elections, the Prefect could not afford to ignore their wishes. The intention expressed by genuine Bonapartists, like the prefect of the Haute-Garonne Pietri in 1854, of replacing the patronage and influence of the old elites by that of the Prefect, as the direct representative of the Emperor himself, was rarely realised. To a substantial degree, prefects were assessed by their superiors according to their success in managing elections.

  Election campaigns were the means of mobilising support. Electoral victory was vitally important for a regime which insisted upon its roots in popular sovereignty.

  It was an essential source of legitimacy. Thus, every election took on a plebiscatory character and involved a judgement of the regime and its policies. This was not only the case in general elections, but also frequently those at departmental and municipal level, whenever the personality of the candidate or local circumstances gave the contest a political colouring. Until 1869, the essential distinguishing feature of the electoral system was the official candidature, far more systematically organised than under previous regimes. The government, through the agency of the Minister of the Interior and the prefects subordinate to him, took it upon itself to declare support for some candidates and to announce its hostility to others. Once selected, usually at the suggestion of the Prefect, the government’s candidate could expect active support from the entire administrative machine by means of the creative redrawing of constituency boundaries, the distribution of the official candidates ballot papers along with registration cards, and of oral and printed propaganda. Initially, this insisted upon the Emperor’s role in protecting France from the ‘red menace’, and then from around 1857 used the theme of prosperity, the progress of public works (particularly roads and railways) and the efforts of the regime to attenuate the misery caused by poor harvests. At the same time,

  opponents were discriminated against. Their posters were torn down, the printers of opposition manifestos risked losing their all-important licenses, meetings were banned and potential candidates and their supporters were intimidated. Moderate opposition was tolerated, most notably in the republican and anti-clerical

  newspaper Le Siècle, and at the opposite pole in the ultra- montane Catholic Univers edited by Louis Veuillot, but on condition that the regime itself was not challenged.

  A major political problem, even in the 1850s, was the selection of official candidates. These needed to satisfy two main criteria – devotion to the regime and 29

  possession of the local influence necessary for electoral success, although it was always possible that an excess of local influence might allow deputies like the right-wing Bonapartist Granier de Cassagnac in the Gers to become too

  independent of the government. The number of suitably qualified candidates was generally limited. In practice, given the absence of a Bonapartist party, they were mainly former Orleanist or Legitimist notables. Additionally, the very act of selecting a particular individual was all too likely to cause disaffection among disappointed aspirants, with a cumulative effect over time. Thus, the authoritarian political system was always in danger of breaking down due to its inability to escape from dependence upon the established elites. Moreover, once these elites had recovered from their fear of ‘red’ revolution, they would demand the restitution of the share of political power they had enjoyed under the July Monarchy and the liberal institutions through which this could be manifested. As the former Orleanist prime minister Guizot warned:

  an insurrection can be repressed with soldiers; an election won with peasants.

  But the support of soldiers and peasants is not sufficient to rule. The cooperation of the upper classes who are naturally rulers is essential.

  Napoléon appears to have hoped that the elites would genuinely rally to the new regime once its stability was assured. He was to be disappointed. Indeed, his very success in re-establishing social order would soon make the authoritarian regime appear redundant.

  In the early years, political stability and strong government accompanied by growing economic prosperity certainly attracted considerable support. The

  Emperor was able to pose as the ‘saviour of society’. Even Guizot had accepted that the regime was ‘inevitable and necessary’ (letter of 12 January 1852). In such diverse worlds as the relatively backward and overwhelmingly rural west with its Legitimist and clerical traditions, or the north with its advanced farming and rapidly developing industry, the mid-century crisis had reinforced the influence of local elites. They possessed multifaceted means of exercising social power, based upon control of access to the land, to employment and to the charity upon which so many people came to depend in a period of intense depression. However, they were willing to collaborate with an administration committed to protecting their status.

  Typically, in the department of the Nord, most politicians assumed that to do anything else would result in their political isolation, given the widespread appreciation of the improved economic and social situation of the 1850s. In the 30

  west and parts of the south, many Legitimist notables faced a sharp moral dilemma as a result of the re-establishment of the Empire. Traditional family loyalties could hardly be ignored. Most, however, were ‘realists’ and even if the majority did not rally with any real enthusiasm, their criticism of the new regime would, for some time, remain muted. In the Gard, for example, the spirit of cooperation was rewarded by the selection for the February 1852 elections of three Legitimists – the Duc d’Uzès and the Marquis de Calvières (with interests in both the land and industrial development) and the merchant Léonce Curnier – as official candidates.

  The clergy also assumed that their interests would be served best by maintaining a close alliance with a regime whi
ch appeared to want to encourage the extension of clerical influence in education and society as a whole, as a means of inculcating sound moral principles and safe-guarding social order. This policy was given symbolic value through the attendance of government representatives at all public religious ceremonies, practical significance by means of increased stipends for priests, and substantial subsidies for church construction and repairs. For the government, this policy had the useful consequence of reducing the ability of the Legitimists, acting through the clergy, to speak to a mass audience. A much remarked upon manifestation of this weakening of popular Legitimism was

  provided by the enthusiastic reception given to the imperial couple by parish priests and their flocks during their visit to Brittany in 1858.

  Mass electoral support for the regime was partly the result of official election management degenerating at times into coercion and the ability to make use of the social influence of local elites and of the clergy. In most departments, given the small number of bureaucrats, the government acted through the existing elites and inadvertently strengthened their local authority. Rarely was use made of the predominantly middle-class electoral committees which were set up in many areas.

  As a result, their members were soon discouraged. The opportunity to establish a committed Bonapartist party was missed. Napoléon himself, as well as his close advisors, were too closely integrated into ‘high’ society and committed to the established social order to be able to contemplate seriously the organisation of a

  ‘party’ as an alternative means of exercising influence. The brilliance of the imperial court at the Tuileries is evidence of a determination to reinforce these traditional links. This is, of course, in marked contrast to the party based systems of control introduced in Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia. In only a few areas, most notably former centres of démoc-soc strength in impoverished regions with relatively few resident notables (e.g. the Creuse or Basses-Alpes), was it judged 31