, it compelled
recognition and homage, and at last even adulation in Europe!--and what
a clever stroke it was, for this heavy, unsympathetic man to bring up
to his throne from the people a radiant empress, who would capture
romantic and aesthetic France!

It was a far cry from cheap lodgings in New York to a seat upon the
imperial throne of France; but human ambition is not easily satisfied.
A Pelion always rises beyond an Ossa. It was not enough to feel that
he had re-established the prosperity and prestige of France, that fresh
glory had been added to the Napoleonic name. Was there not, after all,
a certain irritating reserve in the homage paid him? was there not a
touch of condescension in the friendship of his royal neighbors? And
had he not always a Mordecai at his gate--while the _Faubourg St.
Germain_ stood aloof and disdainful, smiling at his brand-new
aristocracy?

War is the thing to give solidity to empire and to reputation! So,
when invited to join the allies in a war upon Russia in defence of
Turkey, Louis Napoleon accepted with alacrity. France had no interests
to serve in the Crimean War (1854-56); but the newly made emperor did
not underestimate the value of this recognition by his royal neighbors,
and French soldiers and French gun-boats largely contributed to the
success of the allied forces in the East.

The little Kingdom of Sardinia, as the nucleus of the new Italy was
called, had also joined the allies in this war; and thus a slender tie
had been created between her and France at a time when Austria was
savagely attacking her possessions in the north of Italy.

When Napoleon was privately sounded by Count Cavour, he named as his
price for intervention in Italy two things: the cession to France of
the Duchy of Savoy, and the marriage of his cousin, Jerome Bonaparte,
with Clotilde, the young daughter of Victor Emmanuel. Savoy was the
ancestral home of the king, and the only thing he loved more than Savoy
was his daughter Clotilde, just fifteen years old. The terms were
hard, but they were accepted.

When Louis Napoleon entered Italy with his army in 1859, it was as a
liberator--dramatically declaring that he came to "give Italy to
herself"; that she was to be "free, from the Alps to the Adriatic"!
The victory at Magenta was the first step toward the realization of
this glorious promise; quickly followed by another at Solferino. Milan
was restored, Lombardy was free, and as the news sped