King William was disgusted. “Was there ever such insolence?” he wrote to Queen Augusta. “They want me to appear before the world as a repentant sinner.”
When Benedetti asked the King to give “guarantees” that there should be no renewal of the Hohenzollern candidature, His Majesty said: “You ask me to make a promise for all time, and that, for every reason, I cannot do.”
“There was neither insulter nor insulted at Ems. There was only the Chancellor’s manœuvre.” The French Cabinet played into the hands of Bismarck, whose one desire was that France should be responsible for the declaration of war. “It was Bismarck who wanted war, and we rendered him the service of declaring it.” M. Ollivier was pleased at the Hohenzollern’s withdrawal, and there the affair ought to have ended; “but,” says M. Welschinger, “a section of Deputies and of the Court--the Empress in particular--urged war.[132] While the business world was all in favour of peace, an artificial atmosphere environed the Cabinet--an atmosphere composed of M.P.s and hot-headed journalists--and accused Ministers of weakness. The numerical inferiority of the army was not the fault of the Emperor and his Ministers, but of the elected representatives of the nation. The Emperor’s health grew worse and worse, until he could no longer resist the war party.... We had an army numerically inferior, could not reckon on allies, and were in no way prepared for war. On July 6, after the Duc de Gramont’s speech, I heard on all sides, ‘It is war, it is war!’ The Cabinets of Austria and of England both blamed the declaration of war.”
On the day of the departure from St. Cloud of the Emperor and the Prince Imperial for “the front” (July 28) gloom prevailed at the château. “One would believe there was a coffin in the house,” said a lackey. But the aides-de-camp who were accompanying the Emperor were in boisterous spirits. They were inclined to say, as Pandore said to his brigadier, “Majesté [Brigadier], vous avez raison.”[133] The Emperor wore the uniform of a General of Division de petite tenue; the Prince Imperial that of a Sous-Lieutenant of Voltigeurs of the Guard. As the boy strolled about, taking farewell of everybody--his pretty cousins, the Empress’s nieces, daughters of the Duc and Duchesse d’Albe, were there--he tapped the scabbard of his sword and gave himself airs, to the delight of the admiring group. Tears were in his mother’s eyes when, as the train moved out of the special station, she exclaimed, “Do your duty, Louis!” “We shall all do it,” answered the Emperor; and to the Prime Minister he shouted, “Ollivier! Je compte sur vous!” It was their last meeting.