The Death of a President: Marguerite Steinheil and the Scandal that Shook the Third Republic
On the evening of February 16, 1899, the gilded halls of the Élysée Palace the seat of French power were pierced by a scream that would echo through the history of the Third Republic. It was not a scream of political protest or the sound of an assassin's bullet, but a cry of pure, unadulterated panic. When the presidential staff rushed into the Salon Bleu, they were met with a scene that defied every protocol of the French state. There, sprawled upon a sofa, lay President Félix Faure, his body convulsing in the throes of a terminal stroke. Hovering over him, frantically adjusting her disarrayed garments, was a woman who was not his wife. Marguerite Steinheil, the "Black Widow" of Parisian high society, had just secured her place in the annals of infamy. It is a story where the boundaries of bedroom and boardroom blurred, leading to a demise so scandalous that the French language had to invent new puns to describe it.
A President of Pomp and Circumstance
To understand the magnitude of the scandal, one must first understand the man. Félix Faure was the embodiment of the Belle Époque’s aspirations. Born into a modest family of cabinetmakers, he had risen through the ranks of the merchant class in Le Havre to become the President of France in 1895. He was a man who adored the trappings of power the sashes, the medals, and the strict adherence to nineteenth-century decorum. Known as "The Sun President" by some and "The Bourgeois King" by others, Faure’s presidency was defined by the burgeoning Franco-Russian alliance and the bitter, polarizing shadows of the Dreyfus Affair.
Yet, beneath the stiff collars and the dignified mustache, Faure harbored a penchant for the finer pleasures of Parisian life. He was a man of his time, and in the Paris of the late 1890s, that meant maintaining a mistress. However, Faure did not choose a quiet companion; he chose Marguerite Steinheil, a woman whose ambition and charm were as legendary as her social connections.
The Muse of the Salons: Marguerite Steinheil
Marguerite "Meg" Steinheil was born into the wealthy Japy family, titans of industry in eastern France. She was groomed for the upper echelons of society, possessing a sharp intellect and a magnetic beauty that commanded any room she entered. She had married Adolphe Steinheil, a painter of modest talent but significant pedigree, which allowed her to establish one of the most influential salons in Paris.
It was through Adolphe who was commissioned to paint the President that Marguerite met Félix Faure in 1897. The attraction was instantaneous and mutual. While Adolphe painted in one room, the President and Marguerite often found "political matters" to discuss in another. Marguerite became more than a mistress; she was a confidante who understood the intricate dance of French power. As historian Pierre Darmon notes in his chronicles of the era, Marguerite was the "unintentional catalyst" for a political vacuum that would change the course of French history.
February 16, 1899: The Fatal Encounter
The events of that fateful February afternoon began like many others. Marguerite had been summoned to the Élysée for a private afternoon rendezvous. The President, though sixty-seven years old and suffering from the immense stress of the Dreyfus Affair which was then tearing France apart reportedly sought solace in the arms of his mistress.
According to the accounts of palace staff and subsequent historical reconstructions, the encounter took place in the President’s private study. Medical historians have since speculated that Faure, perhaps feeling the decline of his vigor, may have ingested a strong dose of cantharides (commonly known as "Spanish Fly") or another aphrodisiac of the era to prepare for the visit.
The climax of their meeting turned tragic. As Marguerite performed an act of oral intimacy, the President suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The physical exertion, combined with his underlying hypertension and the potential side effects of stimulants, proved fatal. When the chief of staff, Jean-Louis de Lanessan, broke into the room, he found the President’s hands locked so tightly in Marguerite’s hair a result of a cadaveric spasm—that a valet reportedly had to cut a portion of her locks to free her.
The "Pompe Funèbre" and Public Ridicule
The French government immediately attempted to veil the death in dignity, announcing that the President had died "while working on his files." However, in the gossip-hungry streets of Paris, the truth was out within hours. The wit of the Parisian public was merciless. Because Marguerite was famously known to have "extinguished" the President, she was dubbed la pompe funèbre—a double entendre playing on the French term for "funeral director" and the verb pomper (to pump).
The famous exchange between a palace priest and a staff member became the stuff of legend:
Priest: "Does the President still have his consciousness (sa connaissance)?"
Staff Member: "No, she was escorted out the back door."
In French, connaissance can mean both "consciousness" and "acquaintance," perfectly capturing the absurdity of the moment. Georges Clemenceau, the future Prime Minister and a political rival of Faure, famously remarked with biting sarcasm: "He wanted to be Caesar, but he ended up as Pompey."
The Aftermath: A Career in the Shadows
While Faure was given a grand state funeral at Notre-Dame, Marguerite Steinheil’s story was only beginning. The scandal did not destroy her; it magnetized her. She continued to hold court with the elite, but trouble followed her. In 1908, she was at the center of an even darker mystery when her husband and stepmother were found murdered in their home. Marguerite was discovered bound to a chair, claiming she had been attacked by "bearded men in black robes."
The subsequent trial was the sensation of the decade. Though she was eventually acquitted, the "Steinheil Affair" solidified her reputation as a femme fatale of the highest order. She eventually moved to England, changed her name, and married a British lord, proving that her ability to navigate the corridors of power was undiminished by the scandals of her youth.
Historical Significance: More Than a Bedroom Farce
While the death of Félix Faure is often relegated to a footnote of "weird history," its political implications were profound. Faure was a staunch opponent of reopening the Dreyfus case. His sudden death paved the way for Émile Loubet, a man far more sympathetic to the plight of Alfred Dreyfus, to take the presidency.
"The death of Félix Faure was a biological accident that served as a political liberation," wrote historian Jean-Denis Bredin in The Affair.
Without the sudden stroke in the arms of Marguerite Steinheil, the exoneration of Dreyfus might have been delayed by years, potentially altering the social fabric of France leading into the 20th century.
Conclusion: The Legacy of the Élysée Scandal
The story of Félix Faure and Marguerite Steinheil remains a quintessential French tragedy—one part farce, one part political thriller. It serves as a reminder that the giants of history are, in the end, remarkably human, governed by the same passions and frailties as those they lead.
Faure sought to be remembered as the man who modernized the French navy and solidified the alliance with the Tsar. Instead, he is remembered for the way he left the world: in a state of compromised dignity within the most prestigious office in the land. As for Marguerite, she remains a symbol of the Belle Époque—an era of decadence, secrets, and a woman who, for one brief and chaotic afternoon, held the life of the Republic in her hands.
Sources and References
Darmon, Pierre. Le Roman de la Troisième République. Fayard, 1991. (An exhaustive look at the scandals of the era).
Bredin, Jean-Denis. The Affair: The Case of Alfred Dreyfus. George Braziller, 1986. (For context on the political impact of Faure's death).
Archives of the Élysée Palace. Historical Records of the Third Republic, 1895–1899.
The Memoirs of Marguerite Steinheil. Published 1912 (Her personal, though often self-serving, account of her life and the trial).
Clemenceau, Georges. Collected Political Satires and Orations.
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