The last son of the emperor

At MARIPOSA, California, a certain Captain O. R. Sydney has just died, who would probably have passed unnoticed in the world if chance had not made it so that in 1879 he found himself in South Africa, charged with a mission by the English government. Now, Captain Sydney claimed that it was he who discovered in the bush the body of the Prince Imperial, the only son of Napoleon III. And, driven no doubt by the desire to draw attention to his person, the English officer then claimed that the young prince had not been killed by the Zulus, but had fallen victim to a mysterious and dark political intrigue.

This is an opportunity to note, once again, how difficult it is to fix history, in a sure way, even when the facts are closest to us, when the most certain documents are within our reach. We will see presently what the truth, quite simple, is about this death. In any case, since the end of Captain Sydney provides us with the starting point, it is not indifferent to evoke the memory of the one who was the last son of an Emperor.

Eugène-Louis-Jean-Joseph-Napoléon was born on March 16, 1856 and was received with the ceremonial used for the King of Rome in 1811. The birth of this child had endangered the life of the Empress Eugénie. Napoleon III, soon reassured on this point, felt the same proud joy as his uncle: he believed he had assured the future of his dynasty. But the same gust carried away the two thrones and, by a strange twist of history, the two princes, the King of Rome and the Prince Imperial, also died in exile, in the prime of life.

As long as the Empire lasted, the son of Napoleon III was a happy child. Gifted with a lively intelligence, a hard-working and serious character, he seemed to have to develop, for his own good, his qualities of heart and mind. His popularity was great. His parents never failed to entertain him by showing him, in all official ceremonies. We remember that at the beginning of the war of 1870, he was then fourteen years old, he accompanied the Emperor to the armies and that he found himself at his side during the affair of Saarbrücken.

In a special dispatch to the Empress, Napoleon III said: "Louis has just received the baptism of fire; he was admirably cool-headed and was not at all impressed."

But the debacle occurs. The Republic is proclaimed. The Prince Imperial takes refuge in England, at Chiselhurst, where the Empress flees and the Emperor freed by the Germans find themselves. It is exile, with all its painful and depressing aspects, that begins. On January 9, 1873, Napoleon III dies, following an operation, from the cruel illness that had been undermining him for a long time. The Prince Imperial, a student at the Woolwich Military School, arrives just in time to embrace his father one last time. Then the dark years continue. The young prince continues his studies at Woolwich. But soon a ray of sunshine lights his way, a novel that has long remained secret enchants his dreary existence, a novel that will make him live, from which he must die and of which we can speak today that the years have passed over him.

While he is, like his comrades, only a modest student at the Cadet School, the Prince Imperial meets a young Englishwoman, Miss Rebecca Clark-Jackson, who becomes his faithful and devoted friend.

This love was the only joy of his life. This happiness in mystery was enough for him. He did not seek any other. But, despite all the precautions taken, the Empress was soon informed of this affair. She was alarmed at first, then she feared that her son would renounce for his friend, any political future, something she herself did not renounce, at least for him. Prayers, threats, everything was put into play insistently. Tired, the young man weakened and agreed to break it off.

He left for South Africa, where England was organizing, against the Zulus, often dangerous expeditions. It was there that the prince met his death, in 1879. One day, as he was part of a reconnaissance patrol commanded by a lieutenant, he dismounted and was suddenly surrounded by natives. He wanted to get back on his horse to follow his companions who had turned around and were fleeing at a gallop. But, as he put his foot in the stirrup, the saddle turned, the prince fell to the ground. His adversaries threw themselves on him and killed him with spears.

However, the officer and the other horsemen, believing that their companion was following them, returned to the English camp. It was only there that they noticed his absence. They returned to the scene of the ambush and found the body of the prince.

Such was, in an exact manner, the end of the unfortunate young man, as it emerges from a meticulous investigation carried out on the spot, shortly afterwards, by order of the English government.

This death, while not having a political motive, is no less dramatic, even romantic. As for the friend of the Prince Imperial, she died in 1910, in Marseille, where she had retired for a dozen years. She had devoted the end of her life to music, which she loved passionately, and to charity.

Claude FRANCUEIL.