CHAPTER XXII

THE PANAMA SCANDAL

One of the saddest of the many sad scandals that have damaged the fair fame of the Third Republic has certainly been the lamentable adventure connected with the Panama Canal. It gave rise to such despicable intrigues, brought to light such demeaning cupidities, provoked such bitter animosities, that the only wonder is that the Republic itself did not perish in the resulting sea of mud which was showered upon it as well as upon its leading men.

It would be difficult to relate all the intricacies of this memorable affair, but an effort can be made to describe its various phases so far as they have become known. It is next to impossible to determine the limit where truth ends and fabrication begins in this inextricable embroglio, which arose out of the fear of some, the avarice of others, the general corruption everywhere. This struck home the more because it occurred in a country where the establishment of a Republican government had been hailed with joy by those who accused the Empire of having brought along with it the system of _pots de vin_, to use the typical French expression, about which fierce Radicals, like Ranc, for instance, spoke always with such disdain and contempt.

Whatever occurred later on, the Panama enterprise was a perfectly honest one at its beginning. The high honour of Ferdinand de Lesseps would alone have been a perfect guarantee as to the intentions of its promoters, even if these had been unknown men, and such was not the case. But the difficulties which the whole affair presented had never been properly appreciated, and the brilliant success of the Suez Canal had blinded the eyes of those who aspired to emulate it under different conditions, and without the moral help of powerful people such as the Emperor Napoleon III., and the Khedive Ismail. Without this even the genius of Lesseps might have proved insufficient, in presence of the opposition which England made to the construction of the canal.

Lesseps himself had grown old, and, thanks to the atmosphere of flattery with which he was surrounded, had come to believe that nothing would be impossible once he was associated with it. At the same time he naively acknowledged that he had not the slightest idea either of the country, or of the local conditions with which the builders of the new canal would find themselves confronted in actual working.

The first difficulty which arose was, of course, the want of money. It was soon discovered that the funds first subscribed would prove totally insufficient. Then someone suggested the unfortunate idea of an appeal to the government for permission to organise a public lottery, the proceeds of which would be devoted to the construction of the canal.

It was the issue of these so-called Panama bonds which was to end in a disaster quite unprecedented in the annals of French finance, and which struck the country to its heart, because its principal victims belonged to the poorer classes who had been fascinated by the magical name of Ferdinand de Lesseps.

The lottery, however, was not so easy to organise, and at first met with considerable opposition in political circles. Lotteries were not looked upon with favour; one which had for object the continuation of an enterprise that after all was not French, and which offered no guarantee that it would remain in French hands, did not inspire sympathy, indeed, several leading politicians openly declared that they would do their very best to discredit the scheme. On the other hand money was wanted, and, what is still more important, courage was wanting also on the part of the directors of the new company to declare openly that, the result of the subscriptions not having answered their expectations, the best thing to do would be to go into voluntary liquidation.

But by adopting such a course, one would have proclaimed defeat openly, and even an honest man like Charles de Lesseps recoiled before such a course, well realising the storm of abuse which it would provoke on all sides. The directors therefore looked around them for means of salvation, and the issue of lottery bonds appeared as the best solution.

From that moment the sad story began, and the imprudent course which ended by bringing the grey hairs of the great Ferdinand de Lesseps to the grave in sorrow and shame was started. The permission of the government had to be obtained, either by fair means or by foul, and the necessity to save a work upon which so many hopes had been centred, and which had already cost so much money, persuaded the administrators of the Panama Company to listen to the tempting advice given to them by men like Cornelius Herz, or Arton, and to have recourse to the persuasion of cheques offered with the necessary discretion in order to win over to them a few rebellious consciences that hitherto had refused to be convinced of the necessity of issuing Panama lottery bonds.

This fact alone was sad enough. Unfortunately it was aggravated by political passion, and all the enemies of the government who afterwards were the first to cry out that this scandal ought to have been prevented at all costs, that the services rendered to his country by the man known everywhere by the name of the “Grand Français” ought to have guaranteed him from such vile attacks which began from all sides to be made against his honour, were at that time the most rabid in their outcries against him and against the light-heartedness with which he had allowed himself to be drawn into the adventure which was ultimately to land him in the criminal dock.

The fact is that the scandal connected with the Panama enterprise could never have reached the proportions it attained had it not been for the passions of the Royalist party, which thought the situation might, if properly engineered, bring down the Republic, and allow them to instal a Monarchy in its place. They wanted to discredit the ministry then in power, to discredit the two Legislative Chambers--to discredit France, in short; but then it was of France that they thought the least.

I find a proof of this assertion in the book published a few years ago by Arthur Meyer, in which he mentions the Panama affair among other things, and relates how he called upon Charles de Lesseps at the time the truth was just beginning to ooze out in public, and told him that in order to save his skin, he ought to transform the private scandal into a public demonstration of the corruption prevailing in French political circles.

Charles de Lesseps, let it be said to his honour, was incapable of lending himself to such a proposal, and his reply deserves to be quoted in its entirety, for it illustrates his native honesty better than a thousand panegyrics would do:

“My conscience forbids me to reply to you,” he said to Arthur Meyer when the latter implored him to name the individuals to whom the Panama company had distributed cheques with a lavish hand. “Supposing even, which I deny, that the directors or the friends of the Panama Company, in order to serve its interests, had had recourse to measures which for my part I would always blame, do you think that I have the right to denounce people who have had confidence in my loyalty and in my discretion? No, I shall say nothing; and more than that, I have nothing to say. Our honesty will come out victoriously in all this campaign which has been started against us, and which I deplore far more for my father’s sake than for our own. And then, I must add it, and I am talking now to you in perfect frankness, I care for the Republic. I will not go so far as to say that my Republican ideal has been attained at the present moment, but my wish is to spare to the Republic the shame of being plunged into that torrent of mud which you do not hesitate to throw upon her. You belong to a party which has particular opinions as to that subject; this is your private affair whether you accept its methods or not, but I certainly won’t help you.”

Meyer had to content himself with this proud reply, which is the more to be admired in that at the moment when he was so generously refusing to buy his own safety by denouncing those who had trusted to his honour, Charles de Lesseps was perfectly well aware that the very people whom he was trying to shield were themselves preparing to throw him overboard in order to save their already shattered reputations. When, however, the editor of the _Gaulois_ pressed him to say whether it was true or not that Baron Jacques Reinach had been deputed to smooth down the timorous consciences of certain deputies and political men, and whether his name did not figure on the books of the Panama Company as the recipient of huge sums of money, he was obliged to own that as to this point, the accounts of the Panama Company being open to inspection by its shareholders, he could not hide the fact that the Baron’s name figured upon its books as having touched the sum of five million francs.

It was not much, but for a man endowed with the journalistic qualities of Arthur Meyer, it was enough. He forthwith proceeded to inquire as to what Baron Reinach had done with these millions which had been so liberally put at his disposal, and he very soon discovered that the said five millions had been transferred to a banking house called Thierrie, the owner of which had for sleeping partner the same Jacques Reinach.

Once this fact was established the rest was but child’s play. Meyer very quickly secured the necessary proofs that a considerable number of deputies had received important bribes in order to vote for the issue of the Panama lottery bonds. He also discovered something else, and that was that this corruption had given birth to a huge system of blackmail, which had drained all the resources of the Panama Company. It had cruelly expiated its initial error, and had been made to pay for it dearly, in the literal sense of that word. A host of adventurers had threatened it with revelations, the divulging of which it could not risk, and the ball, once set rolling, had very soon been transformed into an avalanche which had carried away with it not only the money of the unfortunate shareholders, but also the honour and the reputation of the directors of this doomed concern.

Meyer, after holding a consultation with his faithful lieutenant, Cornély, of _Figaro_ fame, did not hesitate one single moment as to what he had to do. He firmly believed that by raising the formidable scandal, the proofs of which in such an unexpected manner had been put within his reach, he would bring about the fall of the Republic, and thus pave the way towards the restoration of the Monarchy. Events showed that he was totally mistaken, because the Panama scandal did not kill the Republic, it only overthrew a few political men and several Cabinets, and the shame of it fell more, perhaps, upon those who had made it public than upon the miserable beings who had been responsible for it without realising the abyss into which their light-heartedness would plunge them.

The man who set the ball rolling was a deputy belonging to the Extreme Right, M. Jules Delahaye, member for the department of Maine-et-Loire. He did not hesitate to brand with disgrace many of his colleagues, whose hands he had pressed perhaps a few hours before he consigned them to ignominy. He threw as a challenge to France, and also to Europe, the names of 104 deputies whose consciences had not hesitated before submitting to the fascination of the all-powerful cheque.

I have met M. Delahaye, and in justice to him I must say that he always maintained that he had never thought his speech would have the terrible consequences which followed upon it. Not in the least had he expected that that list of 104 deputies constituted but a fraction of the people who had, under one pretext or another, received money from the coffers of the Panama Company. He had never admitted, nor even believed possible, that the directors of that company would have so entirely lost their heads as to listen to every threat, submit to every extortion, and pay, pay, without discrimination and without hesitation, the enormous sums of hush money that had been drained out of them, half of the time by people who could not have harmed them in the least degree.

The fact is that this whole disaster had fear for its foundation, and political intrigue to thank for the unexpected development that overtook it. The few officials of the Panama Company administering its affairs after they had consented to offer their first bribe, and had seen it accepted, immediately fell into the clutches of a band of blackmailers who had speculated on the impossibility of such a thing becoming public, and on the natural desire to prevent it getting to the knowledge not only of the shareholders of that unfortunate concern, but also of the venerable Ferdinand de Lesseps himself.

This last event was one which his son Charles most dreaded. He not only loved, but also respected his father, whose grey hairs he would have liked to go down honoured to the grave. He remembered the days when with the name Ferdinand de Lesseps one could attempt any kind of enterprise, could always find people ready to back it up, and to believe in it. He had not yet forgotten the praise bestowed on the “Grand Français,” not only in his own fatherland, but also everywhere in Europe, and wherever he had shown himself. He was but too well aware of the honesty of purpose that had always distinguished the brave old man who was being pilloried by the same public that had cheered him a few months before, and he would have given much to be able to take upon his own shoulders the weight of the responsibilities that were crushing his father. He directed all his efforts towards that one aim, and he partly succeeded, because Providence turned out more merciful than men; she struck old Lesseps in his advanced age, and threw the veil of oblivion on his once powerful brain.

He never knew that he had been sentenced to imprisonment, he never understood anything of the tragedy of which he was the miserable hero. He died in blissful unconsciousness of all the evil attached to his name, of all the scandal that surrounded his last hours. His wife heroically defended him against the intrusion of any stranger who might by an unguarded word have aroused his suspicions. His son remained always vigilant near his arm-chair, and spoke to him of hope and of future glories coming to pile themselves on those he had already achieved. In his affection, his filial devotion to his father, Charles de Lesseps was a hero, and even his worst detractors have bowed down before the courage with which he exposed himself to every reproach, and accepted every blame, in order to spare the old man who remained sitting in his arm-chair beside the fire, thinking of the successes of the past, and ignorant of the tragedy of the present.

One day I met Charles de Lesseps coming out of the Palais de Justice in Paris with his advocate. He shook hands, and when I asked him how things were going he smiled sadly and replied that he had lost every hope of avoiding a public trial of the directors of the Panama Company, but he hastened to add, and one could see how very much relieved he felt at the mere idea: “I have been given the assurance that my father will not in any case be implicated in the prosecution that is impending.”

He was mistaken, his father was also dragged into the dock, and also sentenced to several years’ imprisonment. Unfortunately for France her political men have not yet understood the necessity which ought to impose itself upon every nation without anyone trying to explain it to her--the duty of respecting its national glories, and shielding them from desecration.

One of the curious features of this lamentable Panama affair lies in the fact that the company’s money went into the coffers of people who absolutely could do nothing for it, and who got into the habit of turning to it whenever they found themselves in want of ready cash for their necessities or even for their pleasures. It has been sweepingly asserted that scarcely one politician in the whole of France, no matter to what party he belonged, but had had recourse to it in order to replenish his exchequer. There were found some deputies who, whenever they required money, managed to whisper in the ear of one or other of the many intermediaries through whom the business of corruption was going on that they were forced to make an interpellation in the Chamber concerning the management of the concern, which, of course, might bring along unpleasant consequences or revelations as to certain facts. Such an one was sure the next day of finding a cheque in one of his morning letters. Or it was a friend of some influential personage who declared that he had heard that such and such a measure was under consideration, which might prove harmful to the development of the company, or put some stumbling-block or other in its way, and that this had to be prevented at all costs. Of course _he_ would not take anything for this, but he had to have recourse to a friend able to ward off the impending blow, and naturally that friend required to be remunerated for his work. Or again there was some necessary expense to be incurred in regard to the national defence, or to pay for some secret political services which the government in its incapacity and carelessness as to what were the real interests of France refused to undertake, partly also because it could not, without imperilling national safety, give to the Chambers the necessary explanations as to the reasons which rendered such expenses indispensable. The self-sacrifice of the company in taking upon itself such an outlay would entitle it to any reward it might care to ask in exchange, and so forth. Looking backward, it is difficult to understand the extreme _naïveté_ which presided over every aspect of this singular adventure, and the credulity with which serious people like Charles de Lesseps, and his colleagues of the board, believed and were intimidated by all the old women’s tales that were constantly being brought to them.

It would be hard to find a name among all those which were prominent in political life at that particular moment of French history which was not mixed up somehow in the Panama scandal. At least one President and a foreign Ambassador were contaminated by the general infection that prevailed everywhere.

M. Rouvier, too, that strong character, was not free from suspicions of having looked into the coffers of the Panama Company. And what gives, to a certain extent, a shade of likelihood to the reproach which was hurled at him is the following fact, which I believe has never before been made public.

M. Rouvier had amongst his many enemies M. Flourens, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, an able, intelligent, and highly cultured man. M. Flourens did not care at all for M. Rouvier, in whom he saw a future rival, and recognised a powerful opponent. When some rumours reached his ears that things detrimental to the latter might be put forward in connection with the dealings of the Panama Company, he declared to a few personal friends that if such was the case he would not hesitate to make use of the knowledge, and to do his best to bring the delinquent to justice. The words were repeated to Rouvier, who smiled and said nothing. But somehow, a few days later, during a conversation with the same friend, to whom he had expressed his determination of being merciless in regard to his enemy, M. Flourens changed his attitude, and merely remarked that it was a great pity that sometimes outward circumstances, over which man had no control, obliged him to tolerate things that were repugnant to him, and to look through his fingers on facts which he could not disclose without harming superior interests. He then added that he had received a letter from M. Rouvier. When further questioned as to what its contents might be, he shrugged his shoulders, and replied: “C’est une lettre qui m’a désarmé, et qui aurait désarmé bien d’autres que moi.” Months later, General Tchérévine, head of the Tsar’s secret police, received anonymously the original of this very letter, and never could discover, in spite of strenuous efforts, who had sent it to him. It was a short but expressive missive, and merely declared that in case Flourens did not hush up the rumours which accused M. Rouvier of having profited by the circumstances in which the Panama Company had found itself involved, he would speak publicly concerning the bribes that had been offered to and accepted by a certain Ambassador in Paris, and state their amount.

I have reason to believe that this letter was subsequently put under the eyes of Alexander III. by Count Voronzov, at that time Minister of the Imperial Household.

This mere fact that it became possible for the Ambassador of a Foreign Power to find himself mixed up in the sordid intrigues which gave such a special colouring to the Panama affair proves how wide were its ramifications, and how it had entwined itself around every element that constituted modern France. But though many had allowed themselves to be compromised in one way or another in this disgraceful story, it would never have attained the proportions to which it ultimately rose had not the Extreme Right party done its best to fan the general indignation, and to draw public attention to every incident even of the smallest kind connected with it. The leaders of this party did not hesitate an instant before the grave responsibility of exhibiting their national disgrace in the presence of an attentive and disgusted Europe, so great was their desire of ruining their opponents and overthrowing the Republic. But in the end the Panama scandal brought more disgrace to the people who had done their best to expose it than to those who had been its immediate cause.

I was talking about it some years later with a friend of mine, a Frenchman of remarkable acuteness and singular clearness of judgment, who had been in Paris during the whole time the affair lasted, and had followed it very carefully, though not a politician himself. I asked him what impression it had really produced upon the saner elements of the French nation, who had looked upon it from the distance.

“It has consolidated the Republic,” was his prompt reply.

“How is that possible?” I inquired.

“It is easy enough to understand,” he explained to me. “Popular sympathy generally goes to the victims of a cause rather than to those who have brought them to the scaffold, be it that of public opinion or any other. In this case it was the Republic which happened to be the victim, and the so-called Monarchist or Right party who were the denouncers. They both benefited in their respective positions, but the people, who generally judge of things according to their own standards, asked themselves what was the object that was sought by the disclosures.

“Corruption has existed everywhere and always. We find it written upon almost every page of the world’s history, and it is nothing new to see politicians allowing themselves to be influenced by the golden calf. Why, even Moses’s priests bent their knee before it in the desert. But the fact that they have done so does not mean that the whole nation to which they belong has followed them in their errors.

“The great mistake in this Panama affair has been that we have tried to make France and the Republic responsible. It is but seldom that a government is corrupt, and it is not guilty of the faults of those who lead it. A government is a principle; men, even though ministers, are apt to fall and to commit reprovable and even criminal acts. But why accuse a régime of the actions of a few among those who represent it, why especially shut one’s eyes to the fact that this Panama comedy or drama, call it what you like, was nothing else but one of the innumerable political intrigues of this or that party against the existing order of things? We have often discussed Boulangism; well, the Panama scandal was simply another Boulangist conspiracy under a different name. It may have disgraced some individuals, it has not taken anything away from the grandeur of France or from the merits, such as they are, of the Republic. Believe me, my friend, it is not by singing the ballad of Madame Angot that a King will re-establish himself at the Elysée. In order to do this, something more than a ‘collet noir’ and a ‘perruque blonde’ is needed. A man is required, and so far I have neither met nor seen him.”