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Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris

by Henry Du Pré Labouchere · English · Gutenberg #19263 · 765,185 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris

Author: Henry Du Pré Labouchere


        
Release date: September 13, 2006 [eBook #19263]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19263

Credits: Produced by Janet Blenkinship, Graeme Mackreth and the
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        http://dp.rastko.net


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIARY OF THE BESIEGED RESIDENT IN PARIS ***




Produced by Janet Blenkinship, Graeme Mackreth and the
Online Distributed Proofreaders Europe at
http://dp.rastko.net






DIARY

OF

THE BESIEGED RESIDENT

IN PARIS.




DIARY

OF

THE BESIEGED RESIDENT

IN PARIS.




REPRINTED FROM "THE DAILY NEWS,"

WITH

SEVERAL NEW LETTERS AND PREFACE.




IN ONE VOLUME.




Second Edition, Revised.




LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1871.

_The Right of Translation is Reserved_.

LONDON: BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note: In this book there are inconsistencies in|
|accentation and capitalisation; these have been left as in   |
|the original. This book contains two chapters labeled XVII.  |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+




PREFACE.


The publishers of these letters have requested me to write a preface. In
vain I have told them, that if prefaces have not gone out of date, the
sooner they do, the better it will be for the public; in vain I have
despairingly suggested that there must be something which would serve
their purpose, kept in type at their printers, commencing, "At the
request of--perhaps too partial--friends, I have been induced, against
my own judgment, to publish, &c., &c., &c.;" they say that they have
advertised the book with a preface, and a preface from me they must and
will have. Unfortunately I have, from my earliest childhood, religiously
skipped all introductions, prefaces, and other such obstructions, so
that I really do not precisely know how one ought to be written; I can
only, therefore, say that--

These letters are published for the very excellent reason that a
confiding publisher has offered me a sum of money for them, which I was
not such a fool as to refuse. They were written in Paris to the _Daily
News_ during the siege. I was residing there when the war broke out;
after a short absence, I returned just before the capitulation of
Sedan--intending only to remain one night. The situation, however, was
so interesting that I stayed on from day to day, until I found the
German armies drawing their lines of investment round the city. Had I
supposed that I should have been their prisoner for nearly five months,
I confess I should have made an effort to escape, but I shared the
general illusion that--one way or the other--the siege would not last a
month.

Although I forwarded my letters by balloon, or sent them by messengers
who promised to "run the blockade," I had no notion, until the armistice
restored us to communications with the outer world, that one in twenty
had reached its destination. This mode of writing, as Dr. William
Russell wittily observed to me the other day at Versailles, was much
like smoking in the dark--and it must be my excuse for any inaccuracies
or repetitions.

Many of my letters have been lost _en route_--some of them, which
reached the _Daily News_ Office too late for insertion, are now
published for the first time. The reader will perceive that I pretend to
no technical knowledge of military matters; I have only sought to convey
a general notion of how the warlike operations round Paris appeared to a
civilian spectator, and to give a fair and impartial account of the
inner life of Paris, during its isolation from the rest of Europe. My
bias--if I had any--was in favour of the Parisians, and I should have
been heartily glad had they been successful in their resistance. There
is, however, no getting over facts, and I could not long close my eyes
to the most palpable fact--however I might wish it otherwise--that their
leaders were men of little energy and small resource, and that they
themselves seemed rather to depend for deliverance upon extraneous
succour, than upon their own exertions. The women and the children
undoubtedly suffered great hardships, which they bore with praiseworthy
resignation. The sailors, the soldiers of the line, and levies of
peasants which formed the Mobiles, fought with decent courage. But the
male population of Paris, although they boasted greatly of their
"sublimity," their "endurance," and their "valour," hardly appeared to
me to come up to their own estimation of themselves, while many of them
seemed to consider that heroism was a necessary consequence of the
enunciation of advanced political opinions. My object in writing was to
present a practical rather than a sentimental view of events, and to
recount things as they were, not as I wished them to be, or as the
Parisians, with perhaps excusable patriotism, wished them to appear.

For the sake of my publishers, I trust that the book will find favour
with the public. For the last three hours I have been correcting the
proofs of my prose, and it struck me that letters written to be
inserted in separate numbers of a daily paper, when published in a
collected form, are somewhat heavy reading. I feel, indeed, just at
present, much like a person who has obtained money under false
pretences, but whose remorse is not sufficiently strong to induce him to
return it.




DIARY
OF THE
BESIEGED RESIDENT IN PARIS.




CHAPTER I.


PARIS, _September 18th._

No one walking on the Champs Elysées or on the Boulevards to-day would
suppose that 300,000 Prussians are within a few miles of the city, and
intend to besiege it. Happy, said Laurence Sterne, in his "Sentimental
Journey," the nation which can once a week forget its cares. The French
have not changed since then. To-day is a fête day, and as a fête day it
must be kept. Every one seems to have forgotten the existence of the
Prussians. The Cafés are crowded by a gay crowd. On the Boulevard,
Monsieur and Madame walk quietly along with their children. In the
Champs Elysées honest mechanics and bourgeois are basking in the sun,
and nurserymaids are flirting with soldiers. There is even a lull in the
universal drilling. The regiments of Nationaux and Mobiles carry large
branches of trees stuck into the ends of their muskets. Round the statue
of Strasburg there is the usual crowd, and speculators are driving a
brisk trade in portraits of General Uhrich. "Here, citizens," cries one,
"is the portrait of the heroic defender of Strasburg, only one sou--it
cost me two--I only wish that I were rich enough to give it away."
"Listen, citizens," cries another, "whilst I declaim the poem of a lady
who has escaped from Strasburg. To those who, after hearing it, may wish
to read it to their families, I will give it as a favour for two sous."
I only saw one disturbance. As I passed by the Rond Point, a very tall
woman was mobbed, because it was thought that she might be a Uhlan in
disguise. But it was regarded more as a joke than anything serious. So
bent on being happy was every one that I really believe that a Uhlan in
the midst of them would not have disturbed their equanimity. "Come what
may, to-day we will be merry," seemed to be the feeling; "let us leave
care to the morrow, and make the most of what may be our last fête day."

Mr. Malet, the English secretary, who returned yesterday from Meaux, had
no small difficulty in getting through the Prussian lines. He started on
Thursday evening for Creil in a train with a French officer. When they
got to Creil, they knocked up the Mayor, and begged him to procure them
a horse. He gave them an order for the only one in the town. Its
proprietor was in bed, and when they knocked at his door his wife cried
out from the window, "My husband is a coward and won't open." A voice
from within was heard saying, "I go out at night for no one." So they
laid hands on the horse and harnessed it to a gig. All night long they
drove in what they supposed was the direction of the Prussian outposts,
trumpeting occasionally like elephants in a jungle. In the morning they
found themselves in a desert, not a living soul to be seen, so they
turned back towards Paris, got close in to the forts, and started in
another direction. Occasionally they discerned a distant Uhlan, who rode
off when he saw them. On Friday night they slept among the
Francs-tireurs, and on the following morning they pushed forward again
with an escort. Soon they saw a Prussian outpost, and after waving for
some time a white flag, an officer came forward. After a parley Mr.
Malet and his friend were allowed to pass. At three o'clock they arrived
at Meaux. Count Bismarck was just driving into the town; he at once
recognised Mr. Malet, whom he had known in Germany, and begged him to
call upon him at nine o'clock. From Mr. Malet I know nothing more. I
tried to "interview" him with respect to his conversation with Count
Bismarck, but it takes two to make a bargain, and in this bargain he
declined to be the number two. About half an hour afterwards, however, I
met a foreign diplomatist of my acquaintance who had just come from the
British Embassy. He had heard Mr. Malet's story, which, of course, had
been communicated to the Corps Diplomatique, and being slightly
demoralised, without well thinking what he was doing, he confided it to
my sympathising ear.

Mr. Malet, at nine o'clock, found Count Bismarck seated before a table
with wine and cigars. He was in high spirits and very sociable. This I
can well believe, for I used to know him, and, to give the devil his
due, he is one of the few Prussians of a sociable disposition. The
interview lasted for more than two hours. Count Bismarck told Mr. Malet
that the Prussians meant to have Metz and Strasburg, and should remain
in France until they were obtained. The Prussians did not intend to
dismantle them, but to make them stronger than they at present are. "The
French," he said, "will hate us with an undying hate, and we must take
care to render this hate powerless." As for Paris, the German armies
would surround it, and with their several corps d'armée, and their
70,000 cavalry, would isolate it from the rest of the world, and leave
its inhabitants to "seethe in their own milk." If the Parisians
continued after this to hold out, Paris would be bombarded, and, if
necessary, burned. My own impression is that Count Bismarck was not such
a fool as to say precisely what he intended to do, and that he will
attack at once; but the event will prove. He added that Germany was not
in want of money, and therefore did not ask for a heavy pecuniary
indemnity. Speaking of the French, Count Bismarck observed that there
were 200,000 men round Metz, and he believed that Bazaine would have to
capitulate within a week. He rendered full justice to the courage with
which the army under Bazaine had fought, but he did not seem to have a
very high opinion of the French army of Sedan. He questioned Mr. Malet
about the state of Paris, and did not seem gratified to hear that there
had been no tumults. The declaration of the Republic and its peaceful
recognition by Paris and the whole of France appeared by no means to
please him. He admitted that if it proved to be a moderate and virtuous
Government, it might prove a source of danger to the monarchical
principle in Germany.

I do trust that Englishmen will well weigh these utterances. Surely they
will at last be of opinion that the English Government should use all
its moral influence to prevent a city containing nearly two million
inhabitants being burnt to the ground in order that one million
Frenchmen should against their will be converted into Germans. It is our
policy to make an effort to prevent the dismemberment of France, but the
question is not now so much one of policy as of common humanity. No one
asks England to go to war for France; all that is asked is that she
should recognise the _de facto_ Government of the country, and should
urge Prussia to make peace on terms which a French nation can honourably
accept.

General Vinoy, out reconnoitering with 15,000 men, came to-day upon a
Prussian force of 40,000 near Vincennes. After an artillery combat, he
withdrew within the lines of the forts. There have been unimportant
skirmishes with the enemy at several points. The American, the Belgian,
the Swiss, and the Danish Ministers are still here. Mr. Wodehouse has
remained to look after our interests. All the secretaries were anxious
to stay. I should be glad to know why Mr. Falconer Atlee, the British
Consul at Paris, is not like other consuls, at his post. He withdrew to
Dieppe about three weeks ago. His place is here. Neither a consul, nor a
soldier, should leave his post as soon as it becomes dangerous.

Victor Hugo has published an address to the nation. You may judge of its
essentially practical spirit by the following specimen:--"Rouen, draw
thy sword! Lille, take up thy musket! Bordeaux, take up thy gun!
Marseilles, sing thy song and be terrible!" I suspect Marseilles may
sing her song a long time before the effect of her vocal efforts will in
any way prevent the Prussians from carrying out their plans. "A child,"
say the evening papers, "deposited her doll this afternoon in the arms
of the statue of Strasburg. All who saw the youthful patriot perform
this touching act were deeply affected."


_September 19th._

I don't know whether my letter of yesterday went off or not. As my
messenger to the post-office could get no authentic intelligence about
what was passing, I went there myself. Everybody was in military
uniform, everybody was shrugging his shoulders, and everybody was in the
condition of a London policeman were he to see himself marched off to
the station by a street-sweeper. That the Prussian should have taken the
Emperor prisoner, and have vanquished the French armies, had, of course,
astonished these worthy bureaucrats, but that they should have ventured
to interfere with postmen had perfectly dumbfounded them. "Put your
letter in that box," said a venerable employé on a high stool. "Will it
ever be taken out?" I asked. "Qui sait?" he replied. "Shall you send off
a train to-morrow morning?" I asked. There was a chorus of "Qui sait?"
and the heads disappeared still further with the respective shoulders to
which they belonged. "What do you think of a man on horseback?" I
suggested. An indignant "Impossible" was the answer. "Why not?" I asked.
The look of contempt with which the clerks gazed on me was expressive.
It meant, "Do you really imagine that a functionary--a postman--is going
to forward your letters in an irregular manner?" At this moment a sort
of young French Jefferson Brick came in. Evidently he was a Republican
recently set in authority. To him I turned. "Citizen, I want my letter
to go to London. It is a press letter. These bureaucrats say that they
dare not send it by a horse express; I appeal to you, as I am sure you
are a man of expedients." "These people," he replied, scowling at the
clerks, "are demoralised. They are the ancient valets of a corrupt
Court; give me your letter; if possible it shall go, 'foi de citoyen.'"
I handed my letter to Jefferson, but whether it is on its way to
England, or still in his patriotic hands, I do not know. As I passed out
through the courtyard I saw postmen seated on the boxes of carts, with
no horses before them. It was their hour to carry out the letters, and
thus mechanically they fulfilled their duty. English Government
officials have before now been jeered at as men of routine, but the most
ancient clerk in Somerset House is a man of wild impulse and boundless
expedient compared with the average of functionaries great and small
here. The want of "shiftiness" is a national characteristic. The French
are like a flock of sheep without shepherds or sheep-dogs. Soldiers and
civilians have no idea of anything except doing what they are ordered to
do by some functionary. Let one wheel in an administration get out of
order, and everything goes wrong. After my visit to the post-office I
went to the central telegraph office, and sent you a telegram. The clerk
was very surly at first, but he said that he thought a press telegram
would pass the wires. When I paid him he became friendly. My own
impression is that my twelve francs, whoever they may benefit, will not
benefit the British public.

From the telegraph-office I directed my steps to a club where I was
engaged to dine. I found half-a-dozen whist tables in full swing. The
conversation about the war soon, however, became general. "This is our
situation," said, as he dealt a hand, a knowing old man of the world, a
sort of French James Clay: "generally if one has no trumps in one's
hand, one has at least some good court cards in the other suits; we've
got neither trumps nor court cards." "Et le General Trochu?" some one
suggested. "My opinion of General Trochu," said a General, who was
sitting reading a newspaper, "is that he is a man of theory, but
unpractical. I know him well; he has utterly failed to organise the
forces which he has under his command." The general opinion about Trochu
seemed to be that he is a kind of M'Clellan. "Will the Garde Nationale
fight?" some one asked. A Garde National replied, "Of course there are
brave men amongst us, but the mass will give in rather than see Paris
destroyed. They have their families and their shops." "And the Mobiles?"
"The Mobiles are the stuff out of which soldiers are made, but they are
still peasants, and not soldiers yet." On the whole, I found the tone in
"fashionable circles" desponding. "Can any one tell me where Jules Favre
has gone?" I asked. Nobody could, though everybody seemed to think that
he had gone to the Prussian headquarters. After playing a few rubbers, I
went home to bed at about one o'clock. The streets were absolutely
deserted. All the cafés were shut.

Nothing in the papers this morning. In the _Figaro_ an article from that
old humbug Villemessant. He calls upon his fellow-citizens in Paris to
resist to the death.

"One thing Frenchmen never forgive," he says,--"cowardice."

The _Gaulois_ contains the most news. It represents the Prussians to be
all round Paris. At Versailles they have converted the Palais into a
barrack. Their camp fires were seen last night in the forest of Bondy.
Uhlans have made their appearance at St. Cloud. "Fritz" has taken up his
quarters at Ferrières, the château of Baron Rothschild. "William"--we
are very familiar when we speak of the Prussian Royal family--is still
at Meaux. "No thunderbolt," adds the correspondent, "has yet fallen on
him." The Prussian outposts are at the distance of three kilometres from
St. Denis. Near Vitry shots have been heard. In the environs of
Vincennes there has been fighting. It appears General Ambert was
arrested yesterday. He was reviewing some regiments of Nationaux, and
when they cried, "Vive la République" he told them that the Republic did
not exist. The men immediately surrounded him, and carried him to the
Ministry of the Interior, where I presume he still is. The _Rappel_
finds faults with Jules Favre's circular. Its tone, it says, is too
humble. The _Rappel_ gives a list of "valets of Bonaparte, _ce coquin
sinistre_," who still occupy official positions, and demands that they
shall at once be relieved from their functions. The _Rappel_ also
informs its readers that letters have been discovered (where?) proving
that Queen Victoria had promised before the war to do her best to aid
Germany.

Butler of a friend of mine, whose house is close by the fortifications,
and who has left it in his charge, has just been to see me. The house is
a "poste" of the National Guard. Butler says the men do not sleep on the
ramparts, but in the neighbouring houses. They are changed every
twenty-four hours. He had rather a hard time of it last night with a
company from the Faubourg St. Antoine. As a rule, however, he says they
are decent, orderly men. They complain very much that their business is
going to rack and ruin; when they are away from their shops, they say,
impecunious patriots come in to purchase goods of their wives, and
promise to call another day to pay for them. On Saturday night the
butler reports 300 National Guards were drawn up before his master's
house, and twenty-five volunteers were demanded for a service of danger.
After some time the twenty-five stepped forward, but having heard for
what they were wanted, eighteen declined to go.

A British coachman just turned up offers to carry letters through--seems
a sharp plucky fellow. I shall employ him as soon as the Post-office is
definitely closed. British coachman does not think much of the citizen
soldiers in Paris. "Lor' bless you, sir, I'd rather have 10,000
Englishmen than the lot of them. In my stable I make my men obey me, but
these chaps they don't seem to care what their officers says to them. I
seed them drill this morning; a pretty green lot they was. Why, sir,
giving them fellow Chassepots is much like giving watches to naked
savages."

The Breton Mobiles are making pilgrimages to the churches. I hope it may
do them good. I hear the curés of Paris have divided the ramparts
between them, and are on the fortifications--bravo! curés. By-the-bye,
that fire-eater, Paul de Cassagnac, has not followed the example of his
brother Imperial journalists. He enlisted as a Zouave, fought well, and
was taken prisoner at Sedan. He is now employed by his captors in making
bread. I hope his bread will be better than his articles.


1.30 P.M.

Been sitting with a friend who commands a company of National Guards.
The company is now outside the fortifications. Friend tells me that the
men in his company are mostly small shopkeepers. At first it was
difficult to get them to come to drill, but within the last few days
they have been drilling hard, and he is convinced that they will fight
well. Friend tells me that a large number of National Guards have run
away from Paris, and that those who remain are very indignant with them.
He requests me to beg my countrymen, if they see a sturdy Monsieur
swelling it down Regent Street, to kick him, as he ought to be defending
his country. I fulfil his request with the greatest pleasure and endorse
it. I have just seen a Prussian spy taken to prison. I was seated before
a café on the Boulevard des Capucines. Suddenly there was a shout of "un
Prussien;" every one rushed towards the Place de l'Opéra, and from the
Boulevard Haussmann came a crowd with a soldier, dressed as an
artilleryman, on a horse. He was preceded and followed by about one
hundred Mobiles. By his side rode a woman. No one touched them. Whether
he and his "lady friend" were Germans I do not know; but they certainly
looked Germans, and extremely uncomfortable.


3 P.M.

Been to Embassy. Messenger Johnson arrived this morning at 12 o'clock.
He had driven to Rouen. At each post station he was arrested. He drove
up to the Embassy, followed by a howling mob. As he wore an unknown
uniform they took him for a Prussian. Messenger Johnson, being an old
soldier, was belligerently inclined. "The first man who approaches," &c.
The porter of the Embassy, however, dragged him inside, and explained to
the mob who he was. He had great difficulty in calming them. One man
sensibly observed that in these times no one should drive through Paris
in a foreign uniform, as the mass of the people knew nothing of Queen's
messengers and their uniforms. Messenger Johnson having by this time got
within the Embassy gates, the mob turned on his postilion and led him
off. What his fate has been no one has had time to ask.

When I went upstairs I found Wodehouse sitting like patience on a stool,
with a number of Britons round him, who wanted to get off out of Paris.
Wodehouse very justly told them that Lord Lyons had given them due
notice to leave, and that they had chosen at their own risk to remain.
The Britons seemed to imagine that their Embassy was bound to find them
a road by which they might safely withdraw from the town. One very
important Briton was most indignant--"I am a man of wealth and position.
I am not accustomed to be treated in this manner. What is the use of
you, sir, if you cannot ensure my safe passage to England? If I am
killed the world shall ring with it. I shall myself make a formal
complaint to Lord Granville," said this incoherent and pompous donkey.
Exit man of position fuming; enter unprotected female. Of course she was
a widow, of course she had lost half-a-dozen sons, of course she kept
lodgings, and of course she wanted her "hambassader" generally to take
her under his wing. I left Wodehouse explaining to her that if she went
out of Paris even with a pass, she might or might not be shot according
to circumstances. I will say for him that I should not be as patient as
he is, were I worried and badgered by the hour by a crowd of shrieking
women and silly men.


4 P.M.

Fighting is going on all round Paris. There are crowds on the Boulevard;
every one is asking his neighbour for news. I went to one of the Mairies
to hear the bulletins read. The street was almost impassable. At last I
got near enough to hear an official read out a despatch--nothing
important. The commanders at Montrouge and Vincennes announce that the
Prussians are being driven back. "Et Clamart?" some one cries. "A bas
les alarmistes," is the reply. Every one is despondent. Soldiers have
come back from Meudon demoralised. We have lost a position, it is
whispered. I find a friend, upon whose testimony I can rely, who was
near Meudon until twelve o'clock. He tells me that the troops of the
line behaved badly. They threw away their muskets without firing a shot,
and there was a regular _sauve qui peut_. The Mobiles, on the other
hand, fought splendidly, and were holding the position when he left. I
am writing this in a café. It is full of Gardes Nationaux. They are
saying that if the troops of the line are not trustworthy, resistance is
hopeless. A Garde National gives the following explanation of the
demoralisation of the army. He says that the Imperial Government only
troubled itself about the corps d'élite; that the object in the line
regiments was to get substitutes as cheaply as possible; consequently,
they are filled with men physically and morally the scum of the nation.
Semaphore telegraphs have been put up on all the high public buildings.
There are also semaphores on the forts. I see that one opposite me is
exchanging signals. The crowd watch them as though by looking they would
discover what they mean. "A first success," says a National next to me,
"was absolutely necessary for us, in order to give us confidence." "But
this success we do not seem likely to have," says another. The attempt
to burn down the forests seems only partially to have succeeded. The
Prussians appear to be using them, and the French to the last carrying
on war without scouts.


6 P.M.

Evening papers just out. Not a word about Clamart. The _Liberté_ says
the Minister of the Interior refers journalists to General Trochu, who
claims the right to suppress what he pleases. When will French
Governments understand that it is far more productive of demoralisation
to allow no official news to be published than to publish the worst?
Rochefort has been appointed President of a Committee of Barricades, to
organise a second line of defence within the ramparts.


7 P.M.

The cannon can be distinctly heard. The reports come from different
quarters. Jules Favre, I hear from a sure source, is at the Prussian
headquarters.


7.30 P.M.

I live _au quatrième_ with a balcony before my room. I can see the
flashes of cannon in the direction of Vincennes. There appears to be a
great fire somewhere.


12 P.M.

Have driven to the Barrière de l'Enfer. Nothing there. On the Champ de
Mars I found troops returned from Clamart. They complain that they never
saw their officers during the engagement, that there were no scouts in
the Bois de Clamart, and that the Prussians succeeded by their old game
of sticking to the cover. At first they fell back--the French troops
pressed on, when they were exposed to a concentric fire. From the Champs
Elysées I drove to the Buttes de Montmartre. Thousands of people
clustered everywhere except where they were kept off by the Nationaux,
who were guarding the batteries. The northern sky was bright from the
reflection of a conflagration--as the forest of St. Germain was burning.
It was almost light. We could see every shot and shell fired from the
forts round St. Denis. At ten o'clock I got back to the Boulevard des
Italiens. Every café was closed. It appears that at about nine o'clock
the Café Riche was full of Gardes Mobiles, officers, and _lorettes_.
They made so much noise that the public outside became indignant, and
insisted on their giving up their orgie. The National Guard joined in
this protest, and an order was sent at once to close every café. Before
the Maison Dorée I saw a few _viveurs_, gazing at its closed windows as
though the end of the world had come. This café has been opened day and
night for the last twenty years. From my balcony I can no longer hear
the cannon; the sky, however, is even brighter from the conflagration
than it was.


_September 20th._

The firing has recommenced. We can hear it distinctly. General Ambert
has been cashiered. _Figaro_ announces that Villemessant has returned.
We are given a dozen paragraphs about this humbug of humbugs, his
uniform, &c., &c. I do not think that he will be either killed or
wounded. The latest telegram from the outer world announces that "Sir
Campbell"--médecin Anglais--has arrived at Dieppe with despatches to the
Ministers of Foreign Affairs and of Marine.


11 A.M.

Paris very quiet and very despondent. Few soldiers about. The Line is
reviled, the Mobile extolled. From all accounts the latter seem to have
behaved well--a little excited at first, but full of pluck. Let the
siege only last a week and they will be capital soldiers, and then we
shall no longer be called upon, to believe the assertions of military
men, that it takes years of drill and idling in a barrack to make a
soldier.

My own impression always has been that Malet brought back a written
answer from Bismarck offering to see Jules Favre. Can it be that, after
all, the Parisians, at the mere sound of cannon, are going to cave in,
and give up Alsace and Lorraine? If they do, I give them up. If my
friends in Belleville descend into the streets to prevent this ignominy,
I descend with them.


4 P.M.

I got, about an hour ago, some way on the road to Charenton, when I was
turned back, and a couple of soldiers took possession of me, and did not
leave me until I was within the city gate. I could see no traces of any
Prussians or of any fighting. Two English correspondents got as far as
St. Denis this morning. After having been arrested half-a-dozen times
and then released, they were impressed, and obliged to carry stones to
make a barricade. They saw no Prussians. I hear that a general of
artillery was arrested last night by his men. There is a report, also,
that the Government mean to decimate the cowards who ran away yesterday,
_pour encourager les autres_. The guns of the Prussians which they have
posted on the heights they took yesterday it is said will carry as far
as the Arc de Triomphe.

There have been two deputations to the Hôtel de Ville to interview the
Government with respect to the armistice. One consisted of about 100
officers of the National Guard, most of them from the Faubourgs of St.
Antoine and the Temple. They were of course accompanied by a large
crowd. Having been admitted into the Salle du Trône, they were received
by the Mayor of Paris and M. Jules Ferry. The reply of the latter is not
very clear. He certainly said that no shameful peace should be
concluded; but whether, as some assert, he assured the officers that no
portion of French soil should be ceded is not equally certain. Shortly
after this deputation had left, another arrived from the Republican
clubs. It is stated that M. Jules Ferry's answer was considered
satisfactory. The walls have been placarded with a proclamation of
Trochu to the armed force. He tells them that some regiments behaved
badly at Clamart; but the assertion that they had no cartridges is
false. He recommends all citizens to arrest soldiers who are drunk or
who propagate false news, and threatens them with the vigorous
application of the Articles of War. Another proclamation from Kératry
warns every one against treating soldiers or selling them liquor when
they already have had too much. I went to dine this evening in an
estaminet in the Faubourg St. Antoine. It was full of men of the
people, and from the tone of their observations I am certain that if M.
Jules Favre concludes an armistice involving any cession of territory,
there will be a rising at once. The cafés are closed now at 10 o'clock.
At about 11 I walked home. One would have supposed oneself in some dull
great provincial town at 3 in the morning. Everything was closed. No
one, except here and there a citizen on his way home, or a patrol of the
National Guard, was to be seen.


_September 21st._

I suppose that you in England know a good deal more of what is passing
at the Prussian headquarters than we do here. M. Jules Favre's departure
was kept so close a secret, that it did not ooze out until yesterday.
The "ultras" in the Government were, I understand on good authority,
opposed to it, but M. Jules Favre was supported by Picard, Gambetta, and
Kératry, who, as everything is comparative, represent the moderate
section of our rulers. We are as belligerent and cheery to-day as we
were despondent on Monday evening. When any disaster occurs it takes a
Frenchman about twenty-four hours to accustom himself to it. During this
time he is capable of any act of folly or despair. Then follows the
reaction, and he becomes again a brave man. When it was heard that the
heights at Meudon had been taken, we immediately entered into a phase of
despair. It is over now, and we crow as lustily as ever. We shall have
another phase of despondency when the first fort is taken, and another
when the first shells fall into the town; but if we get through them, I
really have hopes that Paris will not disgrace herself. Nothing of any
importance appears to have taken place at the front yesterday. The
commanders of several forts sent to Trochu to say that they have fired
on the Prussians, and that there have been small outpost engagements.
During the day the bridges of St. Cloud, Sèvres, and Billancourt were
blown up. I attempted this morning to obtain a pass from General Trochu.
Announcing myself as a "Journaliste Anglais," I got, after some
difficulty, into a room in which several of his staff were seated. But
there my progress was stopped. I was told that aides-de-camp had been
fired on, and that General Trochu had himself been arrested, and had
been within an inch of being shot because he had had the impudence to
say that he was the Governor of Paris. I suggested that he might take me
with him the next time he went out, and pointed out that correspondents
rode with the Prussian staffs, but it was of no use. From Trochu I went
to make a few calls. I found every one engaged in measuring the distance
from the Prussian batteries to his particular house. One friend I found
seated in a cellar with a quantity of mattresses over it, to make it
bomb-proof. He emerged from his subterraneous Patmos to talk to me,
ordered his servant to pile on a few more mattresses, and then
retreated. Anything so dull as existence here it is difficult to
imagine. Before the day is out one gets sick and tired of the one single
topic of conversation. We are like the people at Cremorne waiting for
the fireworks to begin; and I really do believe that if this continues
much longer, the most cowardly will welcome the bombs as a relief from
the oppressive ennui. Few regiments are seen now during the day marching
through the streets--they are most of them either on the ramparts or
outside them. From 8 to 9 in the morning there is a military movement,
as regiments come and go, on and off duty. In the courtyard of the
Louvre several regiments of Mobiles are kept under arms all night, ready
to march to any point which may be seriously attacked. A good many
troops went at an early hour this morning in the direction of St. Cloud.

The weather is beautiful--a lovely autumn morning. They say that
Rochefort and his friends are busily employed at Grenelle.

1.30 _o'clock_.

The cannonade has been audible for the last half-hour. It is getting
every moment louder. The people are saying that Mont Valérien _donne_. I
am going up to the Avenue de l'Impératrice, where I shall be able to see
what is going on.

2.30 _o'clock_.

Come back; heavy firing--but I could not make out whether it came from
Mont Valérien. Jules Favre has returned. They say the Prussians will
only treat in Paris. Just seen an American who tried to get with a
letter to General Sheridan. He got into the Prussian lines, but could
not reach headquarters. On his return he was nearly murdered by the
Mobiles; passed last night in a cell with two drunkards, and has just
been let out, as all his papers were found _en règle_.




CHAPTER II.


_September 22nd._

I sent off a letter yesterday in a balloon; whether it reaches its
destination, or is somewhere in the clouds, you will know before I do.
The difficulties of getting through the lines are very great, and will
become greater every day. The Post-office says that it tries to send
letters through, but I understand that the authorities have little hope
of succeeding. Just now I saw drawn up in the courtyard of the Grand
Hotel a travelling carriage, with hampers of provisions, luggage, and an
English flag flying. Into it stepped four Britons. Their passports were
viséd, they said, by their Embassy, and they were starting for England
_viâ_ Rouen. Neither French nor Prussians would, they were convinced,
stop them. I did not even confide a letter to their hands, as they are
certain, even if they get through the French outposts, to be arrested by
the Prussians and turned back. Yesterday on the return of Jules Favre he
announced that the King of Prussia required as a condition of Peace the
cession of Alsace and Lorraine, and as the condition of an armistice
immediate possession of Metz, Strasburg, and Mont Valérien. The
Government immediately met, and a proclamation was at once posted on the
walls signed by all the members. After stating it had been reported that
the Government was inclined to abandon the policy to which it owed its
existence, it goes on in the following words:--"Our policy is this.
Neither an inch of our territory nor a stone of our fortresses. The
Government will maintain this until the end."

Yesterday afternoon we "manifested" against peace. We "manifest" by
going, if we are in the National Guard, with bouquets at the ends of our
muskets to deposit a crown of _immortelles_ before the statue of
Strasburg. If we are unarmed, we walk behind a drum to the statue and
sing the "Marseillaise." At the statue there is generally some orator on
a stool holding forth. We occasionally applaud him, but we never listen
to him. After this we go to the Place before the Hôtel de Ville, and we
shout "Point de Paix." We then march down the Boulevards, and we go home
satisfied that we have deserved well of our country. As yesterday was
the anniversary of the proclamation of the First Republic, we were in a
very manifesting mood. M. Gambetta issued proclamations every half hour,
calling upon us, in more or less flowery language, to die for our
country. M. Arago, the Mayor, followed suit, heading his manifestoes
with the old, rallying cry, "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité." I suppose
the French are so constituted that they really cannot exist without
processions, bouquets to statues, and grand phrases. Notwithstanding all
this humbug, a large portion of them mean, I am sure, to fight it out.
They have taken it into their heads that Paris can be successfully
defended, and if it is not, they are determined that it shall not be
their fault. It is intended, I understand, to keep well beneath the
cover of the forts, not to risk engagements more than is
necessary--gradually to convert the splendid raw material of the Mobiles
into good soldiers, by accustoming them to be under fire, and then, if
things go well, to fall on one or other of the Prussian armies. It is
hoped, too, that the Prussian communications will be menaced. Such is
the plan, and every one pretends to believe that it will succeed;
whether they are right or wrong time will show.

The Government, an ex-diplomatist, who has been talking to several of
its members this morning, tells me, is a "unit." There was a party ready
to accept the dismantling of Metz and Strasburg, but as this concession
will not disarm the Prussians, they have rallied to the "not a stone of
one fortress" declaration.

Of course I cannot be expected to give aid and comfort to our besiegers
by telling them, if they seize this letter, what is being done inside to
keep them out. But this I think it will do them no harm to know. The
National Guard man the ramparts. In the angles of the bastions there are
Mobiles. At points close by the ramparts there are reserves of Mobiles
and National Guards, ready at a moment's notice both by day and night to
reinforce them. In the centre of the town there are reserves under arms.
Outside the gates, between the forts and the ramparts, troops are massed
with artillery, and the forts are well garrisoned. A gentleman who has
lately been under a cloud, as he was the inventor of the Orsini bombs,
has several thousand men at work on infernal machines. This magician
assures me that within a week he will destroy the German armies as
completely as were the Assyrians who besieged Samaria under Sennacherib.
He is an enthusiast, but an excellent chemist, and I really have hopes
that he will before long astonish our friends outside. He promises me
that I shall witness his experiments in German corpore vili; and though
I have in mind a quotation about being hoisted with one's own petard, I
shall certainly keep him to his word. On the whole the King of Prussia,
to use Mr. Lincoln's phrase, will find it a big job to take Paris if the
Parisians keep to their present mood. Mr. Washburne told me yesterday
that he does not think he shall leave. There is to be a consultation of
the Corps Diplomatique to-morrow, under the presidency of the Nuncio,
to settle joint action. I admire the common sense of Mr. Washburne. He
called two days ago upon the Government to express his sympathy with
them. Not being a man of forms and red tape, instead of going to the
Foreign-office, he went to the Hôtel de Ville, found a Council sitting,
shook hands all round, and then withdrew. I have serious thoughts of
taking up my quarters at the English Embassy. It belongs to me as one of
the nation, and I see no reason why I should not turn my property to
some account.

Yesterday's papers contained an official announcement that a company of
mutual assurance against the consequences of the bombardment has been
formed. Paris is divided into three zones, and according to the danger
proprietors of houses situated in each of them are to be admitted into
the company on payment of one, two, or three per cent. It comforts me,
comparatively, to find that I am in the one per cent. zone, and, unless
my funds give way, I shall remain there.

Spies are being arrested every half hour. Many mistakes are made from
over zeal, but there is no doubt that a good many Germans are in the
town disguised in French uniforms. The newspapers ask what becomes of
them all, and suggest that they should be publicly shot. It is beautiful
weather, and as I sit writing this at my open window I have great
difficulty in believing that we are cut off from the rest of the world
by a number of victorious armies, who mean to burn or starve us out. M.
John Lemoinne in the _Journal des Débats_ this morning has a very
sensible article upon the position of the Government. He says that
between the first and the second of these two ultimatums there is a vast
difference, and he exhorts the Government to stand by the first, but not
to refuse peace if it can be obtained by the dismantling of Metz and
Strasburg. The _Temps_ of this evening takes the same view of the
proclamation. The ultra Republican journals, on the other hand, support
the policy of the Government. M. Felix Pyat, in his organ, _Le Combat_,
urges war to the death, and proposes that we should at once have Spartan
banquets, at which rich and poor should fare alike. A proposal has been
made to start a national subscription for a musket of honour to be given
to the man who shoots the King of Prussia. There are already 2,000
subscribers of one sou each to the testimonial. The latest proclamation
I have seen on the walls is one from the Mayor of Paris, informing the
public that the coachmen of Paris are not to be ill-treated by their
fares because they are not on the ramparts. As the coachmen of Paris are
usually excessively insolent, I shall not be sorry to hear that they
have at length met with their deserts. A coachman who was driving me
yesterday told me in the strictest confidence that he was a man who
never meddled in politics, and, consequently, it was a matter of
absolute indifference to him whether Napoleon or a "General Prussien"
lived in the Tuileries; and this, I suspect, is the view that many here
take, if they only dared say it.

It is amusing to observe how every one has entered into the conspiracy
to persuade the world that the French nation never desired war--to hear
them, one would suppose that the Rhine had never been called the
national frontier of France, and that the war had been entered into by
Badinguet, as they style the late Emperor, against the wishes of the
army, the peasantry, and the bourgeoisie. Poor old Badinguet has enough
to answer for already, but even sensible Frenchmen have persuaded
themselves that he, and he alone, is responsible for the war. He is
absolutely loathed here. I sometimes suggest to some Gaul that he may
possibly be back again some day; the Gaul immediately rolls his eyes,
clenches his fists, and swears that if ever Badinguet returns to Paris
he (the Gaul) will himself shoot him.

An American, who took an active part in the Confederate defence of
Richmond, has just been in to see me. He does not believe that the town
will hold out long, and scoffs at the mode in which it is being
defended. I reserve my opinion until I have seen it under fire.
Certainly they "do protest too much." The papers contain lists of
citizens who have sworn to die rather than surrender. The bourgeois,
when he goes off to the ramparts, embraces his wife in public, and
assumes a martial strut as though he were a very Curtius on the way to
the pit. Jules is perpetually hugging Jacques, and talking about the
altar of his country on which he means to mount. I verily believe that
the people walking on the Boulevards, and the assistants of the shops
who deal out their wares, in uniform, are under the impression that they
are heroes already, perilling life and limb for their country. Every
girl who trips along thinks that she is a Maid of Saragossa. It is
almost impossible for an Englishman to realise the intense delight which
a Frenchman has in donning a uniform, strutting about with a martial
swagger, and listening to a distant cannonade. As yet the only real
hardships we have suffered have been that our fish is a little stale,
and that we are put on short allowance of milk. The National Guards on
the ramparts, I hear, grumble very much at having to spend the night in
the open air. The only men I think I can answer for are the working men
of the outer faubourgs and a portion of the Provincial Gardes Mobiles.
They do mean to fight. Some of the battalions of the National Guards
will fight too, but I should be afraid to trust the greater portion of
them, even behind earthworks. "Remember," says the _Figaro_ to them
to-day, "that you have wives and children; do not be too venturesome."
This advice, I think, was hardly needed. As for the regular troops, they
are not to be trusted, and I am not sorry to think that there are 10,000
sailors in the forts to man the guns.

We have been manifesting again to-day. I was in hopes that this nonsense
was over. On the Place de la Concorde there was a crowd all the
afternoon, applauding orators, and companies of National Guards were
bringing bouquets to the statue of Strasburg. At the Hôtel de Ville a
deputation of officers of the National Guards came to urge the
Government to put off the elections. After a short parley this was
promised. Another demonstration took place to urge the Government not to
make peace, to accept as their colleagues some "friends of the people,"
and to promise not to re-establish in any form a police force. An
evasive answer was given to these demonstrators. It seems to me that the
Government, in its endeavours to prevent a collision between the
moderates and the ultras, yield invariably to the latter. What is really
wanted is a man of energy and determined will. I doubt if Trochu has
either.

The bold Britons who tried to run the blockade have returned. They
managed to get over the bridge of Neuilly, but were arrested a few yards
beyond it and brought back to General Ducrot. One of them was taken in
with the passports of the five. "I cannot understand you English," the
General said; "if you want to get shot we will shoot you ourselves to
save you trouble." After some parley, General Ducrot gave them a pass to
go through the French lines, but then he withdrew it, and said he must
consult General Trochu. When the spokesman emerged, he found his friends
being led off by a fresh batch of patriots for having no passports, but
they at length got safely back to the Grand Hotel. Their leader, who is
an intelligent man in his way, gives a very discouraging account of what
he saw outside. The Mobiles were lying about on the roads, and everyone
appeared to be doing much what he pleased. This afternoon I went up to
the Trocadero to look at the heights on which they say that there are
already Prussian guns. They appear most uncomfortably near. Those who
had telescopes declared that they could see both guns and Prussians. We
were always told until within a few days that Mont Valérien would
protect all that side of Paris. How can the engineers have made such a
mistake?

This evening I went to call upon one of the chiefs of '48, and had an
interesting conversation with him. He says that many think that he and
his friends ought to be in the Government, and that eventually they all
will be; he added "the Reds are determined to fight, and so long as the
Government does not make a humiliating peace they will support it." I
tried to get out what he considered a humiliating peace, but he rather
fenced with the question. He tells me that at the Folies Bergères, the
headquarters of the ultras, great dissatisfaction is felt with the
Committees of the "Clubs" for having gone yesterday to the Hôtel de
Ville, and endeavoured to force the Government to declare that it would
not treat with the Prussians whilst they were on French soil, and to
allow them to establish a "Commune" as an _imperium in imperio_. "The
army of the Loire," said my friend, "will soon fall on the rear of the
Prussians; we have only to hold out for a few weeks, and this, depend
upon it, we shall do." Now, to the best of my belief, the army of the
Loire only exists on paper, but here was a sensible man talking of it as
though it consisted of some 200,000 seasoned troops; and what is more
strange, he is by no means singular in his belief. A fortnight ago it
was the army of Lyons, now it is the army of the Loire. How reasonable
men can allow themselves to put their faith in these men of buckram, I
cannot imagine.


_September 23rd._

Firing has been going on since three o'clock this morning. The
newspapers contain accounts more or less veracious respecting fights
outside the forts, in which great numbers of Prussians have been killed.
M. Jules Favre publishes an account of his interview with Count Bismarck
in the _Journal Officiel_. M. Villemessant in the _Figaro_ informs the
world that he has left his wife outside, and would willingly allow one
of his veins to be opened in exchange for a letter from her. We are
still engaged in our old occupation--vowing to die for our country. I
hear that there has been serious fighting in the neighbourhood of St.
Denis. This morning I saw another of the '48 Republicans--he seemed
inclined to upset the Government more on the ground that they are
incapable than because he differs with them in politics. I give this
letter to a friend who will get it into the balloon, and go off to the
Trocadero, to see how things are getting on.

The Solferino Tower on the Buttes Montmartre has been pulled down. No
one is to be allowed to hoist the Geneva flag unless the house contains
at least six beds for wounded. We have now a bread as well as a meat
maximum.


_September 24th._

We are as despondent to-day as we were jubilant yesterday. The success
at the front seems to have dwindled down to an insignificant artillery
combat. The _Electeur Libre_ gives the following account of it. On the
previous evening 8,000 Prussians had taken the redoubt of _Villejuif_.
At one in the morning some regiments advanced from there towards Vitry,
and occupied the mill of Saqui, while on the left about 5,000
established themselves on the plateau of Hautes-Bruyères. The division
of General Maud'huy re-took these positions. At five o'clock in the
morning the Prussians tried to occupy them a second time, but failed,
and at half-past seven o'clock they fell back. At nine they attacked
again, when a column of our troops, issuing from the Porte d'Italie,
arrived. The fray went on until ten o'clock, when the Prussians
retreated towards Sceaux. This tallies to a great extent with what I was
told by an officer this morning who had taken part in the engagement.

The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree cashiering M. Devienne,
President of the Cour de Cassation, and sending him to be judged by his
own court, for having been the intermediary between Badinguet and his
mistress, Marguerite Bellanger. Two letters are published which seem to
leave no doubt that this worthy judge acted as the go-between of the two
lovers.

Mr. George Sanders, whilom United States Consul in London, and one of
the leaders of the ex-Confederacy, is here; he is preparing plans for a
system of rifle pits and zigzags outside the fortifications, at the
request of General Trochu. Mr. Sanders, who took an active part in the
defence of Richmond, declares that Paris is impregnable, if it be only
well defended. He complains, however, that the French will not use the
spade.


4 _o'clock_ P.M.

We have been in a state of wild enthusiasm all this afternoon. At about
1 o'clock it was rumoured that 20,000 Prussians and 40 cannon had been
taken. There had been a heavy firing, it was said, this morning, and a
Prussian force had approached near the forts of Ivry and Bicêtre.
General Vinoy had issued forth from Vincennes, and, getting behind them,
had forced them under the guns of the forts, where they were taken
prisoners. The Boulevards immediately were crowded; here a person
announcing that he had a despatch from the front, here another vowing he
had been there himself. Wherever a drum was heard there was a cry of
"Here come the prisoners!" Tired of this, at about 4 o'clock I drove to
Montrouge. It is a sort of Parisian Southwark. I found all the
inhabitants lining the streets, waiting, too, for news. A regiment
marched in, and there was a cry that it had come from the front; then
artillery filed by out of the city gate. I tried myself to pass, and had
got half-way through before I was stopped, then I was turned back. The
prisoners here, close by the scene of action, had dwindled down to
5,000. Imagine Southwark, with every man armed in it, and a battle going
on at Greenwich, and you will have an idea of the excitement of
Montrouge.


6 _o'clock_ P.M.

The Boulevards almost impassable; the streets before the Mairies
absolutely impassable; no official confirmation of the victory. Everyone
who is not inventing news is waiting for it. A proclamation has been
issued by General Trochu conceived in a very sensible spirit, telling
the National Guard that the moment is ill chosen for pacific
demonstrations, with crowns and bouquets. I hear that some of the
soldiers who ran away at Clamart have been shot.

Some of the papers discovered in the Tuileries are published. There is a
letter from Jecker to Conti, in which he says that De Morny had promised
him to get the Mexican Government to pay his claims on condition of
receiving 30 per cent. of profits. A letter signed Persigny complains
that an _employé_ in the Cabinet Noir is in want, and ought to be given
money to prevent his letting out secrets. A letter from the Queen of
Holland tells Napoleon that if he does not interfere in Germany his own
dynasty will suffer. A note of the Emperor, without date, says, "If
France boldly places itself on the terrain of the nationalities, it is
necessary to prove that the Belgian nationality does not exist. The
Cabinet of Berlin seeming ready to enter into negotiations, it would be
well to negotiate a secret _acte_, which would pledge both parties. This
act would have the double advantage of compromising Prussia and of being
for her a pledge of the sincerity of the Emperor." The note then goes on
to say that it is necessary to dissipate the apprehensions of Prussia.
"An _acte_ is wanted," it continues; "and one which would consist of a
regulation of the ulterior fate of Belgium in concert with Prussia
would, by proving at Berlin that the Emperor desires the extension which
is necessary to France since the events which have taken place in
Germany, be at least a relative certainty that the Prussian Government
would not object to our aggrandisement towards the North."

I drove this morning through the fighting faubourgs with a member of the
Barricade Committee. Barricades are being erected everywhere, and they
are even stronger than the outer fortifications. There are, too, some
agreeable little chemical surprises for the Prussians if ever they get
into the town. In reply to some suggestions which I made, my friend
said, "Leave these people to form their own plans. They understand
street fighting better than any one in the world." At La Villette,
Crenelle, and other faubourgs inhabited by the blouses, there is no lack
of patriotism, and they will blow themselves and their homes up rather
than yield.

The bold Britons started again in their Derby turn-out yesterday.
Nothing has been heard of them since. We do not know whether they have
been imprisoned or what has become of them. I have already entrusted my
letters to balloons, boatmen, peasants, and Americans, but I do not know
whether they have reached you or not. The last balloon was pursued by a
Prussian one, the newspapers say!

Yesterday the Nuncio called together all the diplomatists still here,
and they determined to try to communicate with Bismarck. They seem to
imagine that a twenty-four hours' notice will be given before a
bombardment commences, when they will have time to get out. I send this
letter by a Government balloon. I shall send a copy to-morrow by a
private balloon, if it really does start as announced.

The _Gazette Officielle_ "unites with many citizens in asking Louis
Blanc to go to England, to obtain the sympathies of the English nation
for the Republic." This is all very well, but how is he to get there?


_September 25th._

No news of any importance from the front. It is a fête day, but there
are few holiday makers. The presence of the Prussians at the gates, and
the sound of the cannon, have at last sobered this frivolous people.
Frenchmen, indeed, cannot live without exaggeration, and for the last
twenty-four hours they have taken to walking about as if they were
guests at their own funerals. It is hardly in their line to play the
_justum et tenacem_ of Horace. Always acting, they are now acting the
part of Spartans. It is somewhat amusing to see the stern gloom on the
face of patriots one meets, who were singing and shouting a few days
ago--more particularly as it is by no means difficult to distinguish
beneath this outward gloom a certain keen relish, founded upon the
feeling that the part is well played. One thing, however, is certain,
order has at length been evolved from disorder. Except in the morning,
hardly any armed men are to be seen in the streets, and even in the
central Boulevards, except when there is a report of some success or
during an hour in the evening, there are no crowds. In the fighting
faubourgs there is a real genuine determination to fight it out to the
last. The men there have arms, and they have not cared to put on
uniforms. Men, women, and children are all of one mind in the quarters
of the working men. I have been much struck with the difference between
one of these poor fellows who is prepared to die for the honour of his
country, between his quiet, calm demeanour, and the absurd airs, and
noisy brawls, and the dapper uniforms of the young fellows one meets
with in the fashionable quarters. It is the difference between reality
and sham, bravery and bombast.

The newspapers are beginning to complain of the number of Chevaliers of
the Red Cross, who are daily becoming more numerous. Strong men, they
say, should not enrol themselves in a corps of non-combatants. It is
said, also, that at Clamart these chevaliers declined to go under fire
and pick up the wounded, and that the ambulances themselves made a
strategic movement to the rear at the commencement of the combat. The
flag of the Convention of Geneva is on far too many houses. From my
window I can count fifteen houses with this flag floating over them.

We have most wonderful stories about the Prussians, which, although they
are generally credited, I take leave to doubt. Villagers who have
slipped through the lines, and who play the part of the intelligent
contraband of the American Civil War, are our informants. They represent
the Prussian army without food, almost without clothing, bitterly
repenting their advance into France, demoralised by the conviction that
few of their number will be again in their homes. We are treated every
day, too, to the details of deeds of heroism on the part of Mobiles and
Nationaux, which would make Achilles himself jealous. There is, we are
told, a wonderful artilleryman in the fort before St. Denis, the
perfection of whose aim carries death and destruction into the Prussian
ranks.

I am not sorry to learn that the sale of the ultra papers is not large.
M. Blanqui's office was yesterday broken into by some National Guards,
who made it clear to this worthy that he had ill chosen his moment to
attack the Government. I have not myself the slightest dread of a
general pillage. The majority of the working men no doubt entertain
extreme Socialist ideas, but any one of them who declined to make any
distinction between his property and that of his richer neighbours would
be very roughly handled. So long as the Government sticks to its policy
of no surrender, it will be supported by the faubourgs; if, however, it
attempts to capitulate upon humiliating terms, it will be ejected from
the Hôtel de Ville. A sharp bombardment may, perhaps, make a change in
public opinion, but I can only speak of the opinion of to-day. The
Government declares that it can never run short of ammunition; but it
seems to me that we cannot fire off powder and projectiles eternally,
and that one of these mornings we shall be told that we must capitulate,
as there is no more ammunition. Americans who are here, complain very
much of the Parisians for not using the spade more than they do.
Earthworks, which played so large a part in the defence both of
Sebastopol and Richmond, are unknown at Paris. Barricades made of paving
stones in the streets, and forts of solid masonry outside, are
considered the _ne plus ultra_ of defensive works. For one man who will
go to work to shovel earth, you may find a thousand who will shoulder a
musket. "Paris may be able to defend itself," the Americans say, "but it
is not defending itself after what our generals would consider the most
approved method." We have no intelligence of what is passing in France
beyond our lines. We presume that a great army is forming beyond the
Loire; but yesterday a friend of mine, who received this assurance from
M. Gambetta, could not discover that he had any reason to believe it,
except the hope that it was true.

It is a somewhat singular thing that Rochefort, who was regarded even by
his friends as a vain, mad-brained demagogue, has proved himself one of
the most sensible and practical members of the Government. He has
entirely subordinated his own particular views to the exigencies of the
defence of the capital; and it is owing to his good sense that the
ultras have not indulged in any revolutionary excesses.

I have already endeavoured to forward to you, by land, water, and air,
copies of the Tuileries papers which have been published. That poor old
pantaloon, Villemessant, the proprietor and editor of the _Figaro_, who
is somewhat roughly handled by them, attempts to defend himself in his
paper this morning, but utterly fails to do so. His interested
connection with the Imperial Government is proved without the shadow of
a doubt, and I trust that it will also prove the death of his newspaper,
which has long been a disgrace to the press of France. I went to look
after the proprietor of another paper yesterday, as he had promised me
that, come what may, he would get his own and my letters through the
Prussian lines. My friend, I found, had taken himself off to safe
quarters before the last road was closed. For my part I despise any
Parisian who has not remained here to defend his native city, whether he
be Imperialist or Republican, noble or merchant.


_Evening (Sunday)._

They could stand it no longer; the afternoon was too fine. Stern
patriotism unbent, and tragic severity of demeanour was forgotten. The
Champs Elysées and the Avenue de la Grande Armée were full of people.
Monsieur shone by his absence; he was at the ramparts, or was supposed
to be there; but his wife, his children, his _bonne_, and his kitchen
wench issued forth, oblivious alike of dull care and of bombarding
Prussians, to enjoy themselves after their wont by gossiping and lolling
in the sun. The Strasburg fetish had its usual crowd of admirers. Every
bench in the Champs Elysées was occupied. Guitars twanged, organs were
ground, merry-go-rounds were in full swing, and had it not been that
here and there some regiment was drilling, one would have supposed
oneself in some country fair. There were but few men; no fine toilets,
no private carriages. It was a sort of Greenwich-park. At the Arc de
Triomphe was a crowd trying to discover what was going on upon the
heights above Argenteuil. Some declared they saw Prussians, while others
with opera glasses declared that the supposed Prussians were only trees.
In the Avenue de l'Impératrice was a large crowd gazing upon the Fort
of Mont Valérien. This fort, because I presume it is the strongest for
defence, is the favourite of the Parisians. They love it as a sailor
loves his ship. "If I were near enough," said a girl near me, "I would
kiss it." "Let me carry your kiss to it," replied a Mobile, and the pair
embraced, amid the cheers of the people round them. At Auteuil there
were _fiacres_ full of sightseers, come to watch the Prussian batteries
at Meudon, which could be distinctly seen. Occasionally, too, there came
a puff of smoke from one of the gunboats.


_September 26th._

Do the Prussians really mean to starve us out? The Government gave out a
fortnight ago that there was food then within the city for two months'
consumption for a population of two millions. It is calculated that,
including the Mobiles, there are not above 1,500,000 mouths at present
to feed, so that with proper care the supplies may be made to last for
three months. Prices are, however, already rising. We have a bread and a
meat maximum, but to force a butcher to sell you a cutlet at the tariff
price, one has to go with a corporal's guard, which cannot always be
procured. The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree regulating the sale
of horse-flesh. I presume if the siege lasts long enough, dogs, rats,
and cats will be tariffed. I have got 1000 francs with me. It is
impossible to draw upon England; consequently, I see a moment coming
when, unless rats are reasonable, I shall not be able to afford myself
the luxury of one oftener than once a week. When I am at the end of my
1000 francs, I shall become an advocate for Felix Pyat's public tables,
at which, as far as I understand his plan, those who have money pay, and
those who have not, eat.

Yesterday was a quiet day. The forts occasionally fired to "sound the
enemy's lines," but that was all. But how is it all to end? In a given
time the Parisians will eat themselves out and fire themselves out. The
credulity of the public is as great as ever. We are told that "France is
rising, and that in a few weeks three armies will throw themselves on
the Prussians, who are already utterly disorganised." In vain I ask,
"But what if these three armies do not make their appearance?" I am
regarded as an idiot for venturing to discredit a notorious fact. If I
dared, I would venture to suggest to some of my warlike friends that a
town which simply defends itself by shutting its gates, firing into
space, and waiting for apocryphal armies, is not acting a very heroic
part.

M.F. Pyat announces in the _Combat_ that the musket of honour which is
to be given to the man who shoots the King of Prussia is to have
inscribed upon it the word "Peacemaker." We have taken it into our heads
that the German army, Count Bismarck, the Crown Prince, and all the
Generals of the Corps d'Armée are in favour of peace, and the only
obstacle to its being at once concluded lies in the obstinacy of the
Monarch, whom we usually term "that mystic drunkard."

The _Rappel_ contains the report of a meeting which was held last night
of all the Republican Committees. Resolutions were adopted blaming the
Government for putting off the municipal elections. The adjournment,
however, of these elections is, I am convinced, regarded as a salutary
measure by a majority even of the ultras.

I dropped into the English Embassy this morning to see what was doing
there. Mr. Wodehouse, I understand, intends to leave before the
bombardment commences. He is a civilian, and cannot be blamed for this
precautionary measure. I cannot, however, but suppose that the military
attaché, who is a colonel in the army, will remain. There is a notion
among the members of the Corps Diplomatique that the Prussians before
they bombard the town will summon it to surrender. But it seems to me
very doubtful whether they will do so. Indeed, I for one shall not
believe in a general bombardment before I see it. To starve us out seems
to me their safest game. Were they to fire on the town, the public
opinion of the civilised world would pronounce against them.

The Mobiles, who receive 1 franc 50 centimes a day, complain that they
are unable to support themselves on this pittance. The conduct of these
peasants is above all praise. Physically and morally they are greatly
the superiors of the ordinary run of Parisians. They are quiet, orderly,
and, as a rule, even devout. Yesterday I went into the Madeleine, where
some service was going on. It was full of Mobiles listening to the
prayers of the priest. The Breton regiments are accompanied by their
priests, who bless them before they go on duty. If the Parisians were
not so thoroughly conceited, one might hope that the presence of these
villagers would have a beneficial effect upon them, and show them that
the Frenchmen out of Paris are worth more than those within it. The
generation of Parisians which has arrived at manhood during the
existence of the Empire is, perhaps, the most contemptible that the
world has ever seen. If one of these worthies is rich enough, his dream
has been to keep a mistress in splendour; if this has been above his
means, he has attempted to hang on to some wealthy _vaurien_. The number
of persons without available means who somehow managed to live on the
fat of the land without ever doing a single day's honest work had become
enormous. Most of them have, on some pretext or other, sneaked out of
Paris. One sees now very few ribbons of the Legion of Honour,
notwithstanding the reckless profusion with which this order was
lavished. The Emperor's flock, marked with the red streak, have
disappeared.

We have received news through a carrier pigeon that one of the postal
balloons has reached Tours. I trust that it will have carried my letter
to you. I intend henceforward to confide my letter to the post every
second day, and as I have got a copying machine, to send copy by any
messenger who is attempting to run the blockade. We are told that
balloons are to leave every evening; but as the same announcement
informs us that they will not only take letters but officials appointed
to functions in the provinces, I am afraid that there is almost too much
promised to render it likely that the programme will be carried out.


_Afternoon._

I have just made an attempt to see what is going on between the forts
and the ramparts, which has been a failure. I had obtained an order to
circulate for the necessities of the defence from a member of the
Government, and with this in my pocket I presented myself at several of
the gates. In vain I showed my pass, in vain I insisted upon the serious
consequences to Paris in general, and to the officer whom I was
addressing in particular, if I were not allowed to fulfil my circulating
mission. I had to give it up at last, and to content myself with
circulating inside the ramparts. On them, however, I managed to get,
thanks to a tradesman with whom I had often dealt, who was in command. I
was told that a member of the Government, his name no one seemed to
know, had addressed the "poste" yesterday, and urged the men to resist
until one or other of the armies which were forming in the provinces
could arrive and crush the enemy. Everything appeared, where I was,
ready for an attack. The sentinels were posted at short intervals, the
artillerymen were lying about near their guns, and in the Rue des
Remparts there were several hundred National Guards. They seemed to be
taking things easily, complained that the nights were a little chilly
and that business at home was at a standstill. In the course of my walk
I saw a great many barricades in process of formation. Eventually, I
presume, we shall have a second line of defences within the outer walls.
This second line has already been divided, like the ramparts, into nine
sections, each with a separate commander. I met at least a dozen
_soi-disant_ Prussian spies being conducted to prison. Each of them was
surrounded by twelve men, with bayonets fixed. Coming home I saw nine
French soldiers with placards bearing the inscription, "Miserable
cowards." Of course, the usual crowd accompanied them. I heard that they
were on their way to be shot.

The newspapers of this afternoon make a good deal of noise about the
exploits of the gunboat in the bend of the Seine between Point du Jour
and Boulogne. They claim that its gun has dismounted the Prussian
batteries on the terrace of Meudon, and that it successfully engaged
several field batteries which fired upon it from the Park of St. Cloud.
This may or may not be true. We are also called upon to believe that
five shots from Fort Ivry destroyed the Prussian batteries at Choisy le
Roi.

The latest proclamation issued is one from General Trochu, in which he
says that it was the fault of no one that the redoubts which were in
course of construction when the Prussians arrived before the town were
not finished, and that they were abandoned for strategical reasons.

The latest Ultra paper publishes the account of a meeting which was
remarkable, it observes, for the "excellent spirit which animated it,
and the serious character of the speeches which were delivered at it."
This is one of these serious orations--"The Citizen Arthur de Fonvielle
recommends all citizens to exercise the greatest vigilance as regards
the manoeuvres of the police, and more especially those of the Préfet of
the Police. This Ministry has passed from the hands of a Corsican into
those of one of the assassins of the Mexican Republic." I derive
considerable amusement from the perusal of the articles which are daily
published reviling the world in general for not coming to the aid of
Paris. I translate the opening paragraphs of one of them which I have
just read:--"In the midst of events which are overwhelming us, there is
something still more melancholy than our defeat: it is our isolation.
For a month the world has looked on with an impassibility, mingled with
shame and cynicism, at the ruin of a capital which possesses the most
exquisite gifts of sociability, the principal jewel of Europe, and the
eternal ornament of civilisation." Nothing like having a good opinion of
oneself.


_Evening._

I hear of some one going to try to-morrow to get through the lines, so I
give him a copy of this letter. My last letter went off--or rather did
not go off--by a private balloon. The speculator rushed in, just as I
expected him to be off, and said, "Celestine has burst." To my horror I
discovered that he was speaking of the balloon. He then added,
"Ernestine remains to us," and to Ernestine I confided my letter. I have
not seen the speculator since; it may be that Ernestine has burst too.

The latest _canard_ is that 10,000 Prussians are in a wood near
Villejuif, where they have been driven by the French. As they in the
most cowardly manner decline to come out of it, the wily Parisian braves
are rubbing the outer circle of trees over with petroleum, as a
preparatory step to burn them out. This veracious tale is believed by
two-thirds of Paris.




CHAPTER III.


_September 27th,_ 8 A.M.

I have sent you numerous letters, but I am not aware whether you have
received them. As very probably they are now either in the clouds or in
the moon, I write a short resume of what has passed since we have been
cut off from the outer world, as I believe that I have a very good
chance this morning to communicate with you.

When the town was first invested the greatest disorder existed. For a
few days officers, even generals, were shot at by regiments outside the
fortifications; the National Guards performed their service on the
ramparts very reluctantly, and, when possible, shirked it. The Mobiles
were little better than an armed mob of peasants. The troops of the line
were utterly demoralised. The streets were filled with troopers
staggering about half drunk, and groups of armed Mobiles wandering in
ignorance of the whereabouts of their quarters and of their regiments.
The Government was divided into two parties--one supported by the
Moderates, and anxious to make peace on reasonable terms; the other
supported by the Ultras, and determined to continue the contest at all
hazards. The Ministers were almost in despair at finding the utter
disorder in which everything had been left by their predecessors. Little
by little this condition of things has mended for the better. Since the
failure of the mission of M. Jules Favre, and the exorbitant demands
which were then put forward by Count Bismarck, both Moderates and Ultras
have supported the men who are in power. It is felt by all that if Paris
is to be defended with any prospect of success, there must be absolute
union among its defenders. The Deputies of Paris are not thought,
perhaps, to be endowed with any very great administrative ability, but
Mr. Lincoln's proverb respecting the difficulty of a person changing his
horse whilst he is crossing a stream is acted on, and so long as they
neither commit any signal act of folly, nor attempt to treat with
Prussia either for peace or a capitulation, I think that no effort will
be made to oust them. They are, I believe, doing their best to organise
the defence of this city, and if they waste a little time in altering
the names of the streets, and publishing manifestoes couched in grand
and bombastic phrases, it must be remembered that they have to govern
Frenchmen who are fond of this species of nonsense. With respect to the
military situation, the soldiers of all sorts are kept well together,
and appear to be under the command of their officers. The National
Guard, although it still grumbles a little, does its duty on the
ramparts. The soldiers of the line are kept outside the town. The
Mobiles have passed many hours in drill during the last ten days; they
are orderly and well conducted, and if not soldiers already, are a far
more formidable force than they were at the commencement of the siege.
Whether they will ever become available for operations in the open field
is, perhaps, questionable, for their regiments would probably be thrown
into confusion if called upon to act together. Within the line of the
forts, however, there is no reason to suppose that they will not fight
well. The forts are manned by sailors, who are excellent artillerists,
and the guns are formidable ones. On the Seine there is a flotilla of
gunboats. The city has food and ammunition for two months. Paris,
therefore, ought to be able to hold out for these two months. She has
her own population, a large portion of which consists of the working
men, who have never been backward in fighting. The provinces have been
drained of their best blood, which has been brought up to the capital.
All that remains of the French army is here. At the lowest average the
armed force in Paris amounts to 450,000 men, and there are about 500,000
more from which this force can recruit itself. If, then, the capital
does not hold out for two months, she will deserve the contempt of the
world--if she does hold out for this period, she will at least have
saved her honour, and, to a certain extent, the military reputation of
France.

The newspapers are still pursuing the very questionable policy of
exaggerating every little affair of the outposts into a victory, and
assuring those who read their lucubrations that powerful armies are on
the march to raise the siege. The only real military event of any
consequence which has taken place has resulted in a Prussian success.
The French were driven back from some half-finished redoubts at
Chatillon, and the Prussians now occupy the heights between Sèvres and
Meudon, from whence, if they establish batteries, they will be able to
shell a portion of the town. In the second affair which took place,
absurd stories have been repeated respecting the advantages gained by
the French; but they are, to say the least, extremely apocryphal, and
even were they true they are of small importance. For the last few days
the forts have fired upon any Prussian troops that either were or were
supposed to be within shot; and the gunboats have attempted to prevent
the erection of batteries on the Sèvres-Meudon plateau. In point of
fact, the siege has not really commenced; and until it is seen how this
vast population bears its hardships, how the forts resist the guns which
may be brought to bear upon them, and how the armed force conducts
itself under fire, it is impossible to speculate upon results.

Considering the utter stagnation in trade, the number of working men out
of employment, and the irritation caused by defeat, it must be admitted
that the Parisians of all classes are behaving themselves well. The rich
residents have fled, and left to their poorer neighbours the task of
defending their native city. There have been no tumults or disorders,
except those caused by the foolish mania of supposing every one who is
not known must necessarily be a spy. Political manifestations have taken
place before the Hôtel de Ville, but the conciliatory policy adopted by
the Government has prevented their degenerating into excesses. Public
opinion, too, has pronounced against them. From what I have heard and
observed, I am inclined to think that the majority of the bourgeoisie
are in favour of a capitulation, but that they do not venture to say so;
and that the majority of the working men are opposed to peace on any
terms. They do not precisely know themselves what would be the result of
holding out, but they vaguely trust to time, and to the chapter of
accidents. In the middle and upper classes there are also many who take
the same view of the situation. "Let us," they say, "hold out for two
months, and the condition of things will in all probability be altered,
and if so, as we cannot be worse off, any change must be to our
advantage."

Shut up with the Parisians in Paris, I cannot help feeling a good deal
of sympathy for them, notwithstanding their childish vanity, their
mendacity, and their frivolity. I sincerely trust, therefore, if they do
seriously resist their besiegers, that the assurances of the Government
that there are ample supplies of food and of ammunition, are not part of
the system of official lying which was pursued by their predecessors;
and I hope that the grandiloquent boasts and brave words that one hears
from morning to night will be followed by brave deeds.

This morning Messenger Johnson was sent off with despatches to England
from the British Embassy. He was provided with a safe-conduct, signed by
General Trochu, and a letter to the Commandant of the Fort of Vanves,
enjoining him to forward Mr. Johnson under a flag of truce to the
Prussian lines. At half-past nine Messenger Johnson, arrayed in a pair
of high boots with clanking spurs, the belongings, I presume, of a
Queen's messenger, stepped into his carriage, with that "I should like
to see any one touch me" air which is the badge of his tribe. His
coachman being already drunk, he was accompanied by a second man, who
undertook to drive until Jehu had got over the effect of his potations.
I myself have always regarded Queen's messengers as superior beings, to
be addressed with awe, and whose progress no one would venture to
arrest. Such, however, was not the opinion of the National Guards who
were on duty at the gate through which Messenger Johnson sought to leave
this beleagured town. In vain Messenger Johnson showed his pass; in vain
he stated that he was a free-born Briton and a Queen's messenger. These
suspicious patriots ignored the pass, and scoffed at the _Civis
Romanus_. In fact, I tremble as I write it, several of them said they
felt somewhat inclined to shoot any Briton, and more particularly a
Queen's Messenger, whilst others proposed to prod Messenger Johnson with
their bayonets in his tenderest parts. Exit under these circumstances
was impossible. For some time Messenger Johnson sat calm, dignified, and
imperturbable in the midst of this uproar, and then made a strategical
retreat to the Ministry of War. He was there given an officer to
accompany him; he again set forth, and this time he was more fortunate,
for he got through the gate, and vanished from our horizon. I called at
the Embassy this afternoon, and found our representative, Mr.
Wodehouse, confident that Messenger Johnson would arrive at his
destination. Mr. Wodehouse when I left him was engaged in pacifying a
lunatic, who had forced his way into the Embassy, and who insisted that
he was the British Ambassador. I was surprised to learn that there are
still at least 3000 of our countrymen and women in Paris. Most of them
are in a state of absolute destitution, some because they have no means,
others because they are unable to draw upon the funds in England. Mr.
Herbert has established a species of soup kitchen, so they will not
starve until we all do. Mr. Wallace, the heir of Lord Hertford, who had
already given the munificent donation of 12,000l. to the Ambulance fund,
has also provided funds for their most pressing wants.

In to-day's _Journal des Débats_ M. John Lemoinne points out to his
readers that M. Bismarck, in his remarks to M. Jules Favre, expressed
the opinion of Germany, and that the expression of his views respecting
the necessity of Germany annexing Alsace and Lorraine is not necessarily
an insult to France. The war, says M. Lemoinne, never was a war of
monarchs, but a war of nations. France as well as the Emperor is
responsible for it. It must continue to be, he continues, a war _à
outrance_ between two races. The terms of peace proposed by M. Bismarck
cannot be accepted by France. The moderate tone and dignified melancholy
of this article contrast favourably with that of almost all the leaders
in the other papers, and more particularly in those of the
ultra-Republican press. In _La France_, a moderate and well-conducted
journal, I find the following remarks:--"Paris is the capital of France
and of the world. Paris besieged is a beautiful, a surprising spectacle.
The sky is blue, the atmosphere is pure, this is a happy augury, fifteen
days of patience on the part of the Parisians, fifteen days to arm in
the provinces, and the German army will be irreparably compromised. It
will then be unable to cut its way out of the circle of fire which will
surround it." When journals of the standing of _La France_ deal in this
sort of nonsense it is not surprising that the ex-Imperialist organs,
which are endeavouring to curry favour with the mob, are still more
absurd. The _Figaro_ concludes two columns of bombast with the following
flight:--"But thou, O country, never diest. Bled in all thy veins by the
butchers of the North, thy divine head mutilated by the heels of brutes,
the Christ of nations, for two months nailed on the cross, never hast
thou appeared so great and so beautiful, Thou neededst this martyrdom, O
our mother, to know how we love thee. In order that Paris, in which
there is a genius which has given her the empire of the world, should
fall into the hands of the barbarians, there must cease to be a God in
heaven. As God she exists, and as God she is immortal. Paris will never
surrender." When it is remembered that this ignorant, vain, foolish
population has for nearly twenty years been fed with this sort of stuff,
it is not surprising that even to this hour it cannot realise the fact
that Paris is in any danger of being captured. The ultra-Republican
press is becoming every day more virulent. M. Blanqui, in his organ, _La
Patrie en Danger_, after praising the act of a person of the name of
Malet, who last February shot an officer who refused to shout "Vive la
République," thus continues:--"I was reminded of this when the other day
I saw defile on the boulevards a regiment of rustic peasants. I raised
my hat to salute these soldiers of liberty, but there was no response
from them. Malet would have raised the kepi of one of the captains with
a bullet, and he would have done well. Let us be without pity. Vive
Marat! We will do justice ourselves...." The ultra-Republicans, of the
stamp of M. Blanqui and M. Felix Pyat, seem to be under the impression
that it is far more important to establish a Republican form of
Government in France than to resist the Prussians. In the meetings which
they hold every evening they clamour for the election at once of a
municipality, because they hope to become themselves members of it, and
then to absorb all the power which is now wielded by the Provisional
Government. Beyond discrediting themselves by these attempts to disturb
the harmony within the walls, which is of such vital importance at the
present moment, I do not think that they will do much. I have talked to
many working men, and whatever may be their political opinions, they are
far too sensible to play the game of the Prussians by weakening the
existing Government. After the Prussians perhaps the deluge; but as long
as they are before Paris, and the Provisional Government does not
capitulate, I do not dread any political disorders. What we may come to,
are bread riots. There is already an immense deal of misery, and, as the
siege continues and provisions rise in price, it will of course
increase.

I was talking this morning to a gentleman who used at one time to play a
very important part in public life, who is well acquainted with most of
the members of the Government, and who is a man of calm judgment. I was
anxious to obtain his opinion upon the situation, and this is a _résumé_
of what he told me. "When Jules Favre," he said, "went to Bismarck, he
was prepared to agree to the dismantlement of the fortresses of Alsace
and Lorraine, the cession of half the fleet, the payment of an indemnity
of eighty millions of pounds, and an agreement for a term of years not
to have a standing army of more than 200,000 men. A Constituent Assembly
would have ratified these terms. The cession of a portion of the fleet
is but tantamount to the payment of money. The conscription is so
unpopular that a majority of the nation would have been glad to know
that the standing army would henceforward be a small one. As for the
fortresses, they have not been taken, and yet they have not arrested the
Prussian advance on Paris; consequently their destruction would not
seriously weaken the defences of the country." I asked whether Paris
would now consent to these terms. "No," he said, "if the Government
offered them there would be a revolution. Paris, rightly or wrongly,
believes that she will be able to hold out for two months, and that
during this time there will be a _levée en masse_." "And do you share
this opinion?" I asked. "I am not of a very sanguine character" he
replied; "but I really am now inclined to believe that the Prussians
will never enter Paris unless they starve us into a surrender." "Then,"
I said, "I suppose they will starve us out." "I am an old man," he said,
"and I always remember Philip's saying, 'Time and I are two,' In two
months many things may happen. Winter is coming on. The Prussian army is
composed of men engaged in business at home and anxious to return; the
North does not love the South, and divisions may arise. The King of
Prussia is an old man, and he may die. Without absolutely counting upon
a French army raising the siege, there are _levées_ forming in Lyons and
elsewhere, and the Germans will find their communications seriously
menaced. Russia, too, and Austria may interfere, so I think that we are
wise to resist as long as we can." "But if you have to capitulate, what
will happen?" I asked. "If we do capitulate, our disaster will be
complete," he answered. "I do not anticipate disorders; the population
of Paris is an intelligent one, it wishes the Government to resist as
long as it can, but not to prolong an impossible situation. Paris must
do her part in defending the country, she can do no more." "Well," I
said, "supposing that the Prussians were to withdraw, and peace were to
be concluded on reasonable terms, what do you think would take place?"
"Gambetta, Jules Favre, and the majority of the Parisian Deputies would
call a Constituent Assembly as soon as possible, and resign power into
its hands. They are moderate Republicans, but between a Red Republic and
a Constitutional Monarchy they would prefer the latter. As practical
men, from what I know of them, I am inclined to think that they would be
in favour of the Orleanist family--either the Comte de Paris or the Duc
d'Aumale." "And would the majority of the Constituent Assembly go with
them?" I asked. "I think it would" he replied. "The Orleanist family
would mean peace. Of late years Frenchmen have cared very little for
military glory; their dream has been to save money. One advantage of our
disasters is that it has limited the number of pretenders to the Throne,
for after the capitulation of Sedan, neither the army nor the peasants
will support a Bonaparte. There will be two parties--the
ultra-Republicans, and the advocates of a Constitutional Monarchy under
a Prince of the House of Orleans. Unless the friends of the Orleans
Princes commit some great fault, they are masters of the situation."

I went down this morning to the Halles Centrales. There was very little
going on. _Bonnes_ were coming to market, but most of the booths were
untenanted, and the price of vegetables, eggs, and butter was
exorbitant. "Why do you complain of me?" said a dealer to a
customer--"is it my fault? Curse Badinguet and that wretch of a
Bismarck; they choose to fight, so you must pay double for these
carrots" The butchers yesterday published an appeal against the maximum;
they said that the cost of animals is so great that they positively are
losing upon every joint which they sell. A new proclamation of the Mayor
has just been issued, announcing that 500 oxen and 4,000 sheep will
daily be slaughtered and sold to the butchers at a price to enable them
to gain 20 per cent, by retailing meat at the official tariff. I find
that, come what may, we have coffee and sugar enough to last many
months, so that provided the bread does not fail, we shall take some
time to starve out.

This afternoon a dense column of smoke was seen rising in the air in the
direction of La Villette, and it gradually covered the town with a dark
cloud. The pessimists among the Boulevard quidnuncs insisted that the
town had been set on fire by the Prussians; the optimists were convinced
that the 10,000, who for some reason or other are supposed to be in a
wood, patiently waiting to be roasted, were being burnt. It turns out
that some petroleum in the Buttes de Chaumont caught fire. After burning
about two hours, the fire was put out by heaping dirt on it.

The Prussians still occupy the plateau of Meudon, and despatches from
the forts say that troops are supposed to be concentrating between
Meudon and Sèvres. We have come to the conclusion that as the Prussians
do not fire upon Grenello and Auteuil, they have neither Krupp nor siege
guns. I trust this may prove true. News has been received from Tours; it
was brought by an officer who ran the blockade. We are much elated to
learn that the result of M. Jules Favre's interview has been posted up
throughout France. We believe that the effect of this measure "will be
equal to an army." The Post Office informs the public that a regular
system of balloons has been organised, and that letters will be received
and forwarded to the provinces and abroad, provided they do not weigh
above four grammes. A deputation of English and American correspondents
waited to-day on M. Jules Favre, to ask him to give them facilities to
send their letters by the balloons. This he promised to do. He also half
promised to let all correspondents have a pass, on stating who they are.
The worst of a pass is, that it is no protection against arrest, for,
say your captors, "Prussian spies are so cunning that they would be
precisely the persons to have papers, either forged or stolen." Another
trouble is, that if you are arrested, you are generally shut up, with
half-a-dozen thieves and drunkards, for about twenty-four hours, before
a Commissary condescends to inquire into your case. No one as yet has
ever troubled me; but the spy mania certainly does not add to the charm
of the residence of a stranger in Paris just now. I would rather run the
chance of being hit during a bombardment, than affront the certainty of
twenty-four hours in a filthy police cell. Suspicion is, no doubt,
carried to a ridiculous excess; but it is equally true that
unquestionable spies are arrested every day under every sort of
disguise. Mr. Washburne told me yesterday that he saw a _soi-disant_
"Invalide" arrested, who turned out to be a regular "spectacled
Dutchman."


_September 28th._

Nothing new at the front. We suppose that the enemy are concentrating
troops on the Sèvres-Meudon plateau, and that they intend to attack on
that side. We are confident that the guns of Mont Valérien will prevent
the success of this attack. On the opposite side of Paris they are
endeavouring to erect batteries; but they are unable to do so on account
of the fire of Fort Nogent. It seems to me that we are shouting before
we are quite out of the wood; but we are already congratulating
ourselves upon having sustained a siege which throws those of Saragossa
and Richmond into the shade. If we have not yet been bombarded, we have
assumed "an heroic attitude of expectation;" and if the Prussians have
not yet stormed the walls, we have shown that we were ready to repel
them if they had. Deprived of our shepherd and our sheep-dogs, we civic
sheep have set up so loud a ba-ba, that we have terrified the wolves who
wished to devour us. In the impossible event of an ultimate capitulation
we shall hang our swords and our muskets over our fire-places, and say
to our grandchildren, "I, too, was one of the defenders of Paris." In
the meantime, soldiers who have run away when attacked are paraded
through the streets with a placard on their breasts, requesting all good
citizens to spit upon them. Two courts-martial have been established to
judge spies and marauders, and in each of the nine sections there is a
court-martial to sit upon peccant National Guards. "The sentence," says
the decree, "will at once be executed by the detachment on duty." We are
preparing for the worst; in the Place of the Panthéon, and other
squares, it is proposed to take up the paving stones, because they will,
if left, explode shells which may strike them. The windows of the Louvre
and other public edifices are being filled with sand bags. This morning
I was walking along the Rue Lafayette, when I heard a cry "A bas les
cigares!" and I found that if I continued to smoke, it was thought that
I should set light to some ammunition waggons which were passing.

Yesterday evening there was a report, which was almost universally
credited, that a revolution had broken out in London, because the
English Government had refused to aid Paris in driving back the
Prussians. The Parisians find it impossible to understand that the world
at large can see little distinction between a French army entering
Berlin and a Prussian army entering Paris. Their capital is to them a
holy city, and they imagine that the Christian world regards the
Prussian attack upon it much as the Mahometan world would regard a
bombardment of Mecca. No doubt it will be a shocking thing to bombard a
city such as this, filled with women and children; still, being an
Englishman, I cannot see that it would be worse than to bombard London.
The newspapers of this morning contain a _précis_ of a letter from "our
Fritz" to William "the mystic drunkard." Our Fritz writes to his papa to
say that he ought to have accepted peace when it was proffered by Jules
Favre. How the contents of the letter are known in Paris is not stated.
But here we know everything. We know that at a council of war held two
days ago at Versailles a majority declared that it was impossible to
take Paris. We know that the German soldiers are dying of starvation and
clothed in rags. We know that they are forced by their officers, against
their will, to attack their French brothers. Did not yesterday a
National Guard himself take five Prussian prisoners? They were starving,
and thankfully accepted a piece of bread. They had a wounded companion
in a wheelbarrow, who continually shook his fist in the direction of the
"mystic drunkard," and plaintively moaned forth the only French word he
knew, "Misérable, misérable!" Did not another National Guard go into a
house recently occupied by "Bavarians," and find the following words
written on a shutter--"Poor Frenchmen, we love you: they force us to
fight against you?" I believe all this, and many other strange facts,
because I see them in print in the newspapers. Can it possibly be that I
am over-credulous? Am I wrong, too, in believing that France is rising
_en masse_, that Moltke did not understand his business in advancing on
Paris, and that he will be crushed by the armies of the Loire and a
dozen other places--if, indeed, our gallant heroes congregated in Paris
give their brethren outside time to share in the triumph of defeating
him? _En attendant_, we eat, drink, and are reasonably merry; our
defenders mount guard, and drill when they are off guard. Our wary
Mobiles outside not only refuse to allow Prussians to pass, but such is
their vigilance, they generally arrest officers of any regiment except
their own who come within their ken. These worthy fellows will, I
believe, fight with bravery. The working men, too, are engaged in
heaping up barricades, and are ready to allow themselves to be killed
and their landlords' houses to be blown up rather than surrender. The
sailors in the forts are prepared to hold them like ships against all
comers. The "infantry of the marine" is commanded by an old tar who
stands no nonsense. A few days ago he published an order complaining
that the marines "undulated under fire." Some of his officers went to
him as a deputation to protest against this slur on them and their men;
but he cut their remonstrances short by immediately cashiering the
spokesman. To-day he announces that if his men are supplied with drink
within the limits of his command he will burn down all the pothouses. It
is greatly to be deplored that the determined spirit of this Admiral
does not animate all his brother commanders; they are perpetually
engaged in discussing with those who are under their orders, and appear
to be afraid to put down insubordination with a high hand. If ever they
venture upon any act of rigour, they are called upon by the Ultra press
to justify it, and they generally do so in a lengthy letter.

I have been, as the Americans say, much exercised of late respecting
certain persons whom I have seen strolling about the streets, avoiding
as much as possible their species. Whenever anyone looked at them they
sneaked away with deprecating glances. They are dressed in a sort of
pea-jacket, with hoods, black trousers, and black caps, and their
general appearance was a cross between a sailor and a monk. I have at
length discovered with surprise that these retiring innocents are the
new sergents-de-ville of M. Kératry, who are daily denounced by the
Ultras as ferocious wolves eager to rend and devour all honest citizens.
If this be true, I can only say that they are well disguised in sheep's
clothing.

Letters from Paris, if ever they do get to London, must necessarily be
so dull, that they can hardly repay the trouble of reading them. Life
here is about as lively as life on board a ship. The two main subjects
of conversation, the military preparations within the town, and the
amount of food, are in honour tabooed to correspondents. With respect to
the former I will only say, that if the Prussians do carry the forts and
the enceinte, they will not have taken Paris; with regard to the latter,
I can state that we shall not be starved out for some time. Besides the
cattle which have been accumulated, we have 90,000 horses; and although
a cab horse may not taste as good as Southdown mutton, I have no doubt
that Parisian cooking will make it a very palatable dish for hungry men;
there are, too, a great many dogs, and the rats have not yet left the
sinking ship. As for coffee and sugar we have enough to last for six
months; and, unless the statistics of the Government are utterly
worthless, come what may we shall not lack bread for many a day.

The Rump of the Corps Diplomatique has held a second meeting, and a
messenger has been sent to Bismarck to know--1st, whether he means to
bombard the city; 2nd, whether, if he does, he intends to give the usual
twenty-four hours' notice. Diplomates are little better than old women
when they have to act on an emergency. Were it not for Mr. Washburne,
who was brought up in the rough-and-ready life of the Far West, instead
of serving an apprenticeship in Courts and Government offices, those who
are still here would be perfectly helpless. They come to him at all
moments, and although he cannot speak French, for all practical purposes
he is worth more than all his colleagues put together. Lord Lyons would,
I believe, have remained, had he not been over persuaded by timid
colleagues, who were ordered to do as he did. It is a great pity that he
did not act according to his own judgment; but Republics, we know, are
not in good odour with courtiers. As for that poor creature Metternich,
he was utterly demoralized. He was more of a Chamberlain of Badinguet
than an Ambassador, and, of course, when his friend disappeared, he
took the earliest opportunity to follow his example.


_September 29th._

We still are cut off from the outer world, but neither "the world
forgetting," nor, we imagine, "by the world forgot." The inhabitants of
the "Mecca of civilization" are still, like Sister Anne, looking out for
some one to come to their assistance. I am utterly sick and tired of the
eternal brag and bombast around me. Let the Parisians gain some success,
and then celebrate it as loudly as they please: but why, in the name of
common sense, will they rejoice over victories yet to come? "We are
preserving," they say, "a dignified expectative attitude." Mr. Micawber
put the thing in more simple vernacular when, he said that he was
waiting for something to turn up. "First catch your hare" is a piece of
advice which our patriots here would scoff at. They have not yet caught
the Prussians, but they have already, by a flight of imagination, cooked
and eaten them. Count Moltke may as well--if I am to believe one quarter
of what I hear--like the American coon, come down. In a question of
military strategy between the grocers of Paris and the Prussian generals
I should have thought that the odds were considerably in favour of the
latter, but I am told that this is not so, and that in laying siege to
Paris they are committing a mistake for which a schoolboy would be
deservedly whipped. If you eliminate the working-class element, which
has not been corrupted by the Imperial system, the population of this
town is much what I imagine that of Constantinople to have been when it
was taken by the Turks. They are Greeks of the lower empire. Monsieur
sticks his kepi on one side of his head, and struts and swaggers along
the Boulevard as though he were a bantam cock. We have lost the _petits
crevés_ who formed so agreeable an element in society, but they have
been replaced by the military dandy, a being, if possible, still more
offensive. This creature mounts some sorry screw and parades the
Boulevard and the Champs Elysées, frowning dismally upon the world in
general, and twirling his moustache with the one hand, whilst he holds
on to the saddle with the other. His sword is of the longest, his waist
is of the tightest, and his boots are of the brightest. His like is only
to be seen in England when the _Battle of Waterloo_ is played at
Astley's, but his seat is not as good as that of the equestrian warriors
of that establishment. As he slowly paces along he gazes slyly to see
how many people are looking at him, and it must be owned that those who
do see him, vastly admire him. What manner of beings these admirers are
may be imagined from their idol. No contrast can be greater than that
which exists between the Parisian Bobadils and the Provincial Mobiles.
The latter are quiet and orderly, eager to drill and without a vestige
of bluster--these poor peasants are of a very different stuff from the
emasculated, conceited scum which has palmed itself off on Europe as
representative Frenchmen. The families with whom they lodge speak with
wonder of their sobriety, their decency, and their simple ways, and in
their hearts almost despise them because they do not ravish their
daughters or pillage their cellars; and neither swear every half-hour to
die for their country, nor yell the "Marseillaise." If Paris be saved,
it will be thanks to them and to the working men of the capital. But it
will be the old _sic vos non vobis_ story; their brave deeds and
undemonstrative heroism will be forgotten, and Jules and Alphonse, the
dandies and braggarts of the Boulevard, will swear to their own heroism.
I trust that the Prussians will fail to take Paris, because I think that
the French are right to fight on rather than submit to the dismemberment
of their country; and because I prefer a Republic to a Monarchy where a
King reigns by right divine. But when I read the bombastic articles in
the newspapers--when I see the insane conceit and the utter ignorance of
those with whom I am thrown--when I find them really believing that they
are heroes because they are going, they say, to win battles, it is
difficult to entertain any great sympathy for them. How utterly must
poor old Badinguet, before whom they cringed for years--who used them,
bought them, and made his market out of their vanity, their ignorance,
and their love of theatrical claptrap, despise them, as he dreams again
through life's dream in the gardens of his German prison. They call him
now a "sinister scoundrel" and a "lugubrious stage player." But he was
their master for many a long year, and they owe their emancipation from
his yoke to Prussian arms and not to themselves.

A committee of "subsistence" has been established. The feud between the
butchers and the public still continues, and most of the meat stalls are
closed. The grocers, too, are charging absurd prices for their goods.
_La Liberté_ suggests that their clients should do themselves justice,
and one of these mornings, unless these gentry abate their prices, some
grocer will be found hanging before his door. Although provisions are
plentiful, the misery is very great. Beggars increase in number every
day--they are like one of the plagues of Egypt. I was taking a cup of
coffee this morning before a café, and I counted twenty-three beggars
who asked me for money whilst I was sitting there. We still derive much
comfort from caricaturing Badinguet, William, and Bismarck. The latest
effort represents Badinguet and William as Robert Macaire and Bertrand.
Another represents Badinguet eating an eagle. "Coquin," says William,
"what are you doing with your eagle?" "Eating it," replies Badinguet;
"what else can I do with it?" Little statuettes, too, of the "two
friends," Badinguet and William, are in great request. William, with an
immense moustache, scowls at Badinguet, who humbly kneels before him.

M. Jules Favre, in reply to the English press deputation, sent last
night to say that each correspondent must make a personal application to
General Trochu. I know what that means already. All I ask is that my
letters should be put up in a balloon. As for passes, I have one
already, and it has not been of the slightest service to me. _Les
Nouvelles_ heads an article "English Spies," and proposes that to
simplify the question of whether they are spies or not, all English in
Paris should at once be shot. I cannot say that I personally have found
any ill-feeling to exist against me because I am an Englishman.
Yesterday afternoon I was in a crowd, and some one suggested that I was
a spy; I immediately mounted on a chair and explained that I was a
"journaliste Anglais," and pointed out to my friends that they ought to
be obliged to me for remaining here. "If any one doubts me," I added,
"let us go to the nearest commissary." No one did doubt me, and fifty
patriots immediately shook hands with me. The French people are apt to
form hasty judgments sometimes, and to act on them still more hastily,
but if one can get them to listen for a moment, they are reasonable, and
soon their natural good nature asserts itself. The zealous but
well-intended Mobiles are the most dangerous, for they shoot you first
and then apologise to your corpse. An order is placarded to-day of
Governor Trochu's, announcing that anyone trying to pass the lines will
be sent before the Courts Martial, or if he or she runs away when
ordered to stop, will be shot on the spot. This latter clause allows a
very great latitude for zeal, more particularly as the "lines" just now
are little more than a geographical expression. Their Emperor is a
prisoner, the enemy is thundering at their gates, they are shut up here
like rats in a hole; they have been vanquished in the only engagement
they have had with their besiegers, and yet the Parisians believe that,
compared with them, the Germans are an inferior race, and, like the
slave before Marius, will shrink abashed before the majesty of Paris.
"If we," say their newspapers, "the wisest, the best, the noblest of
human beings, have to succumb to this horde of barbarians that environ
us, we shall cease to believe in the existence of a Providence."

The movement on the part of the "Ultras" to elect at once a municipality
is gaining strength. Yesterday several chiefs of the faubourg battalions
of the National Guard interviewed Jules Ferry on the subject. Ledru
Rollin has declared himself in favour of it, and this morning there are
evidences that the Government is inclined to give way to the pressure,
for a decree is published in the _Journal Officiel_ ordering a
registration of voters. The worst of Frenchmen is that, no matter how
patriotic each one may be, he is convinced that the interests of his
country require that he should be one of its rulers. The men of '48 who
have returned from exile are surprised that they are almost forgotten by
the present generation, which regards them as interesting historical
relics, and puts its faith in new gods. At the clubs every evening the
Government is denounced for refusing to admit into its ranks this or
that patriot, or adjourning the municipal elections, and for not sending
revolutionary agents into the provinces. A newspaper this morning makes
the excellent suggestion that M. Blanqui, M.F. Pyat, and their principal
adherents should be invited to proceed at once to the provinces in a
balloon, invested with the rank of Government agents. "They cannot," it
adds, "do so much harm there as they are doing here; and then, too, the
balloon may burst." Personally, I should be glad to see a moderate
Republic established here, for I regard a Court as a waste of public
money; but it seems to me that Republicans should remember that it is
for the nation, and not for them, to decide what shall henceforward be
the form of government.




CHAPTER IV


_September 30th._

We are still beating our tom-toms like the Chinese, to frighten away the
enemy, and our braves still fire off powder at invisible Uhlans. The
Prussians, to our intense disgust, will not condescend even to notice
us. We jeer at them, we revile them, and yet they will not attack us.
What they are doing we cannot understand. They appear to have withdrawn
from the advanced positions which they held. We know that they are in
the habit of making war in a thoroughly ungentlemanly manner, and we
cannot make up our minds whether our "attitude" is causing them to
hesitate, or whether they are not devising some new trick to take us by
surprise. That they are starving, that their communications with Germany
are cut off, that their leaders are at loggerheads, that the Army of the
Loire will soon be here to help us to demolish them, we have not the
slightest doubt. The question is no longer whether Paris will be
taken--that we have solved already--it is whether the Prussians will be
able to get back to the Rhine. We are thankful that Bismarck did not
accept Jules Favre's offer of a money indemnity. We would not give a
hundred francs now to ensure peace or an armistice. I went this morning
into a shop, the proprietor of which, a bootmaker, I have long known,
and I listened with interest to the conversation of this worthy man
with some of his neighbours who had dropped in to have a gossip, and to
congratulate him on his martial achievements, as he had been on guard in
a bastion. We first discussed why the Army of the Loire had not arrived,
and we came to the conclusion that it was engaged in rallying Bazaine.
"I should like to read your English newspapers now," said one; "your
_Tims_ told us we ought to cede Alsace and Lorraine, but its editor must
now acknowledge that Paris is invincible." I told him that I felt
convinced that he did so regularly every morning. "No peace," shouted a
little tailor, who had been prancing about on an imaginary steed,
killing imaginary Prussians, "we have made a pact with death; the world
knows now what are the consequences of attacking us." The all-absorbing
question of subsistence then came up, and some one remarked that beef
would give out sooner than mutton. "We must learn," observed a
jolly-looking grocer, "to vanquish the prejudices of our stomachs. Even
those who do not like mutton must make the sacrifice of their taste to
their country." I mildly suggested that perhaps in a few weeks the
stomachs which had a prejudice against rats would have to overcome it.
At this the countenance of the gossips fell considerably, when the
bootmaker, after mysteriously closing the door, whispered, "A secret was
confided to me this morning by an intimate friend of General Trochu.
There is a tunnel which connects Paris with the provinces, and through
it flocks and herds are entering the town." This news cheered us up
amazingly. My bootmaker's wife came in to help him off with his military
accoutrements; so, with a compliment about Venus disarming Mars, I
withdrew in company with an American, who had gone into the shop with
me. This American is a sort of transatlantic Bunsby. He talks little,
but thinks much. His sole observation to me as we walked away was this,
"They will squat, sir, mark my words, they will squat." I received this
oracular utterance with respect, and I leave it to others to solve its
meaning, I am myself a person of singular credulity, but even I
sometimes ask myself whether all I hear and read can be true. Was there
really, as all the newspapers this morning inform me, a meeting last
Sunday at London of 400,000 persons, who were addressed by eminent
M.P's, and by the principal merchants and owners of manufactories in
England, at which resolutions were adopted denouncing the Queen, and
calling upon Mr. Gladstone either to retire from office, or to declare
war against Prussia?

The Tuileries correspondence, of which I gave a short summary yesterday,
reveals the fact that both M. de Cassagnac and Baron Jerome David were
regular pensioners on the Civil List. The cost of the Prince Imperial's
baptism amounted to 898,000fr. The cousins, male and female, of the
Emperor, received 1,310,975fr. per annum; the Duc de Persigny received
in two months, 60,000fr.; Prince Jablonowyski, Countess Gajan, Madame
Claude Vignon, Le General Morris, and many other ladies and gentlemen
who never did the State any service, are down for various sums. Among
other items is one of 1,200fr. to General de Failly for sugar plums. The
Duchess of Mouchy, whose name continually appears, received 2,000,000fr.
as a marriage portion. The son of the American Bonaparte had a pension
of 30,000fr.; Madame Ratazzi of 24,000fr.; her sister, Madame Turr, the
same; Marquis Pepoli, 25,000fr. But the poor relations do not appear to
have been contented with their pensions, for on some pretext or other
they were always getting extra allowances out of their rich cousin. As
for Prince Achille Murat, the Emperor paid his debts a dozen times.
Whatever he may have been to the outer world, poor old Badinguet seems
to have been a Providence to his forty-two cousins and to his personal
friends. He carried out Sidney Smith's notion of charity--put his hand
into someone else's pocket, and gave away what he stole liberally.

_Figaro_, with its usual good taste, recommends the battalions of the
National Guard to choose celebrities of the _demi-monde_ for their
vivandières. From what I hear every day, I imagine that the battalions
will be far more likely to hang the editor of this facetious paper than
to take his advice. I am told by the kiosque women that its sale is
falling off daily.

The clubs and their organs have announced that the municipal elections
are to take place, with or without the consent of the Government, on
October 2, and that not only the inhabitants of Paris, but the Gardes
Mobiles and the peasants who have taken refuge within the walls of the
city are to vote. In the working men's quarters there is undoubtedly a
strong feeling in favour of these elections being held at once. But the
working men do not attend the clubs. I have dropped into several of
them, and the audience appeared to me principally to be composed of
strongminded women and demagogues, who never did an honest day's work in
their lives. The Government has, however, been "interviewed" on the
subject of the municipal elections by the chiefs of the battalions of
the National Guards of the Faubourgs, and, if only some men of position
can be found to put themselves at the head of the movement, it will
cause trouble. As yet, Ledru-Rollin is the only known politician who
avowedly favours it. The Government is, I believe, divided upon the
expediency of holding the elections at once, or rather I should say,
upon the possibility of putting them off without provoking disturbances.
I am inclined to think that, as is usually the case, the Moderates will
yield on this point to their Ultra colleagues. Very possibly they may
think that, if ever a capitulation becomes necessary, it will be as well
to make the nominees of the Faubourgs share in the responsibility. As
Jules Favre said of Rochefort, they are perhaps safer in the Government
than outside of it.

The column of the Place Vendôme is daily bombarded by indignant
patriots, who demand that it should be razed to the ground, and the
metal of which it is composed be melted down into cannon. The statue of
Napoleon I., in the cocked hat and great-coat, which used to be on its
summit, was removed a few years ago to a pedestal at the end of the
Avenue de la Grande Armée. It has been concealed to preserve it from the
iconoclasts. There has been a lull of late in M. Gambetta's
proclamations. Within the last twenty-four hours, not above two fresh
ones have appeared. The newspapers are beginning to clamour for a
sortie. Why, they ask, are we to allow ourselves to be besieged by an
army which does not equal in numbers our own? Why are we to allow them
quietly to establish their batteries? There is a certain amount of sense
in these complaints, though the vital question of how regiments, which
have never had an opportunity of being brigaded together, will be able
to vanquish in the open field the disciplined troops of Germany, is the
unknown [Greek: x] in the problem which has yet to be solved. It is
evident, however, that the question must be tested, unless we are to
remain within the fortifications until we have digested our last omnibus
horse. If the enemy attacks, there is fair ground to suppose that he
will be repelled; but then, perhaps he will leave us to make the first
move. Without entering into details, I may say that considerable
engineering skill has been shown of late in strengthening the defences,
that the Mobiles and the National Guard, if their words mean anything,
which has yet to be proved, are full of fighting, and that the armed
force at our disposal has at length been knocked into some sort of
shape. Every day that the Prussian attack is delayed diminishes its
chance of success. "If they do carry the town by assault," said a
general to me yesterday, "it will be our fault, for, from a military
point of view, it is now impregnable." What the effect of a bombardment
may be upon the morale of the inhabitants we have yet to see. In any
case, however, until several of those hard nuts, the forts, have been
cracked, a bombardment can only be partial.

There was heavy firing last night, and it increased in intensity this
morning. At about one o'clock I saw above 100 wounded being brought to
the Palais de l'Industrie, and on going to Montrouge I found the church
near the fortifications full of them. The following is the official
account of what has happened:

     Our troops in a vigorous sortie, successively occupied Chevilly and
     l'Hay, and advanced as far as Thiais and Choisy-le-Roi. All these
     positions were solidly occupied, the latter with cannon. After a
     sharp artillery and musketry engagement our troops fell back on
     their positions with a remarkable order and _aplomb_. The Garde
     Mobile were very firm. _En somme journée très honorable_. Our
     losses have been considerable. Those of the enemy probably as
     considerable.                                        TROCHU.

I need not add that as usual we have had rumours all day of a great
victory and a junction with the Army of the Loire. General Trochu's
despatch, dated 10-30, Bicêtre, reduces matters to their real
dimensions.


_October 1st._

Although the Government statistics respecting the amount of food in
Paris have been published, and are consequently, in all probability, in
the hands of the Prussians, I do not like to give them myself. It can,
however, do no harm to explain the system which is being adopted by the
authorities to make our stores hold out as long as possible. Every
butcher receives each morning a certain amount of meat, calculated upon
his average sales. Against this meat he issues tickets in the evening
to his customers, who, upon presentation of the ticket the next morning,
receive the amount for which they have inscribed themselves at the price
fixed by the tariff of the week. When tickets have been issued by the
butcher equivalent to the meat which he is to receive, he issues no
more. Yesterday a decree was promulgated, ordering all persons having
flour on sale to give it up to the Government at the current price. It
will, I presume, be distributed to the bakers, like the meat to the
butchers. As regards meat, the supply does not equal the demand--many
persons are unable to obtain tickets, and consequently have to go
without it. Restaurants cannot get enough for their customers. This
evening, for instance, at seven o'clock, on going into a restaurant, I
found almost everything already eaten up. I was obliged to "vanquish the
prejudices of my stomach," and make a dinner on sheeps' trotters,
pickled cauliflower, and peaches. My stomach is still engaged in
"vanquishing its prejudice" to this repast, and I am yet in the agonies
of indigestion. In connection, however, with this question of food,
there is another important consideration. Work is at a standstill.
Mobiles and Nationaux who apply _formâ pauperis_ receive one franc and a
half per diem. Now, at present prices, it is materially impossible for a
single man to buy sufficient food to stave off hunger for this sum, how
then those who depend upon it for their sustenance, and have wives and
families to support out of it, are able to live, it is difficult to
understand. Sooner or later the population will have to be rationed like
soldiers, and, if the siege goes on, useless mouths will have to be
turned out. It was supposed that the peasants in the neighbourhood of
Paris, who were invited to take refuge within its walls, would bring
more than enough food with them for themselves and their families, but
they preferred to bring their old beds and their furniture. Besides our
stores of flour, of sheep, and of oxen, we have twenty-two million
pounds of horse-flesh to fall back upon, so that I do not think that we
shall be starved out for some time; still the misery among those who
have no money to buy food will, unless Government boldly faces the
question, be very great. Everything, except beef, mutton, and bread, is
already at a fancy price. Ham costs 7fr. the kilo.; cauliflowers,
1.50fr. a head; salt butter 9fr. the kilo, (a kilo, is about two
pounds); a fat chicken 10fr.; a thin one, 5fr.; a rabbit, 11fr.; a duck,
9fr.; a fat goose, 20fr.

Rents, too, are as vexed a question as they are in Ireland. In a few
days the October term comes due. Few can pay it; it is proposed,
therefore, to allow no landlord to levy it either before the close of
the siege or before December.

General Trochu, in his Rapport Militaire of yesterday's proceedings,
expands his despatch of yesterday evening. The object, he says, was, by
a combined action on both banks of the Seine, to discover precisely in
what force the enemy was in the villages of Choisy-le-Roi and Chevilly.
Whilst the brigade of General Giulham drove the enemy out of Chevilly,
the head of the column of General Blaise entered the village of Thiais,
and seized a battery of cannon, which, however, could not be moved for
want of horses. At this moment the Prussians were reinforced, and a
retreat took place in good order. General Giulham was killed. General
d'Exea, while this combat was going on, marched with a brigade on
Creteil, and inflicted a severe loss with his mitrailleuses on the
enemy. This report contrasts favourably with the florid, exaggerated
accounts of the engagement which are published in this morning's papers.
I am glad to find that France possesses at least one man who tells the
truth, and who can address his fellow-citizens in plain language. The
credulity of the Parisians, and their love of high-flown bombast, amount
to a disease, which, if this city is not to sink into a species of
Baden Baden, must be stamped out. Mr. O'Sullivan recently published an
account of his expedition to the Prussian headquarters in the _Electeur
Libre_. Because he said that the Prussians were conducting themselves
well in the villages they occupied, the editor of the paper has been
overwhelmed with letters reviling him for publishing such audacious
lies. Most Frenchmen consider anyone who differs from them to be either
a knave or a fool, and they fabricate facts to prove their theories. An
"intelligent young man" published a letter this morning saying that he
had escaped from Versailles, and that already 700 girls have been
ravished there by the Prussians. This intelligent young man's tale will
be credited, and Mr. O'Sullivan will be disbelieved by nine-tenths of
this population. They believe only what they wish to believe.

M. Rochefort has issued a "poster" begging citizens not to construct
private barricades. There must, he justly observes, be "unity in the
system of interior defences." The _Réveil_ announces that the Ultras do
not intend to proceed to revolutionary elections of a municipality
to-morrow, because they have hopes that the Government intend to yield
on this question. The Prefect of the Police is actively engaged in an
attempt to throw light upon Pietri's connection with the plots which
periodically came to a head against the Empire. Documents have been
discovered which will show that most of these plots were got up by the
Imperial police. Pietri, Lagrange, and Barnier, a _juge d'instruction_,
were the prime movers. A certain Bablot received 20,000fr. for his
services as a conspirator.

The complaints of the newspapers against the number of young men who
avoid military duty by hooking themselves on in some capacity or other
to an ambulance are becoming louder every day. For my part I confess
that I look with contempt upon any young Frenchman I meet with the red
cross on his arm, unless he be a surgeon. I had some thoughts of making
myself useful as a neutral in joining one of these ambulances, but I was
deterred by what happened to a fellow-countryman of mine who offered his
services. He was told that thousands of applicants were turned away
every day, and that there already were far more persons attached to
every ambulance than were necessary.

Dr. Evans, the leading spirit of the American ambulance, the man whose
speciality it was to have drawn more royal teeth, and to have received
more royal decorations than any other human being, has left Paris. Mr.
Washburne informs me that there are still about 250 Americans here, of
whom about forty are women. Some of them remain to look after their
homes, others out of curiosity. "I regard," said an American lady to me
to-day, who had been in a southern city (Vicksburg, if I remember
rightly), when it was under fire, "a bombardment as the finest and most
interesting effort of pyrotechnical skill, and I want to see if you
Europeans have developed this art as fully as we have, which I doubt."


_October 2nd._

I wrote to General Trochu yesterday to ask him to allow me to accompany
him outside the walls to witness military operations. His secretary has
sent me a reply to-day regretting that the General cannot comply with my
request. The correspondent of the _Morning Post_ interviewed the
secretary yesterday on the same subject, but was informed that as no
_laisser passer_ was recognised by the Mobiles, and as General Trochu
had himself been arrested, the Government would not take upon itself the
responsibility of granting them. This is absurd, for I hear that neither
the General nor any of his staff have been fired upon or arrested during
the last week. The French military mind is unable to understand that the
world will rather credit the testimony of impartial neutrals than
official bulletins. As far as correspondents are concerned, they are
worse off under the Republic than even under the Empire.

M. Louis Blanc's appeal to the people of England is declamatory and
rhetorical in tone, and I am inclined to think that the people of
England are but a Richard Doe, and that in reality it is addressed to
the Parisians. M. Blanc asks the English in Paris to bear witness that
the windows of the Louvre are being stuffed with sandbags to preserve
the treasures within from the risks of a bombardment. I do so with
pleasure. I cannot, however, bear him out in his assertions respecting
the menacing calm of Paris, and the indomitable attitude of its National
Guards. M. Blanc, like most of his countrymen, mistakes the wish for the
will, words for deeds, promises for performance. What has happened here,
and what is happening? The forts are manned with sailors, who
conscientiously fire off their cannon. A position has been lost. Two
sorties consisting of troops and armed peasants have been driven back.
The National Guards do duty on the ramparts, drill in the streets, offer
crowns to the statue of Strasburg, wear uniforms, and announce that they
have made a pact with death. I sincerely trust that they may distinguish
themselves, but they have not had an opportunity to do so. Not one of
them has as yet honoured his draft on death. Behind their forts, their
troops, their crowd of peasants, and their ramparts, they boast of what
they will do. If they do really bury themselves beneath the ruins of
their capital they will be entitled to the admiration of history, but as
yet they are civilians of the present and heroes of the future. Noisy
blusterers may be brave men. I have no doubt there are many in Paris
ready to die for their country. I can, however, only deal with facts,
and I find that the Parisians appear to rely for safety upon everything
except their own valour. One day it is the Army of the Loire; another
day it is some mechanical machine; another day dissensions among the
Prussian generals; another day the intervention of Russia or Austria. In
the meantime, clubs denounce the Government; club orators make absurd
and impracticable speeches, the Mayor changes the names of streets, and
inscribes Liberté, Egalité, and Fraternité on the public buildings. The
journals of all colours, with only one or two exceptions, are filled
with lies and bombast, and the people believe the one and admire the
other. The Minister of the Interior placards the walls with idle
proclamations, and arrests Bonapartists. Innocent neutrals are mobbed as
Prussian spies, and the only prisoners that we see are French soldiers
on their way to be shot for cowardice. Nothing is really done to force
the Prussians to raise the siege, although the defenders exceed in
number the besiegers. How can all this end? In a given time provisions
and ammunition will be exhausted, and a capitulation must ensue. I wish
with all my heart that the hosts of Germany may meet with the same fate
as befell the army of Sennacherib; but they are not likely to be killed
or forced to retreat by speeches, pacts with death, sentimental appeals,
and exaggerated abuse.

The _Temps_ calculates that our loss on Friday amounted to about 500
wounded and 400 killed. The object of the sortie was to blow up a bridge
over the Seine, and to rouse the courage of the Parisians by obtaining a
marked success at a point where the Prussians were not supposed to be in
force. Neither end was attained, and consequently we are greatly
depressed. Count Bismarck has not condescended to send a reply to the
Corps Diplomatique, requesting to be allowed to establish postal
communication with their Governments, much to the disgust of that
estimable body.

The result of the pryings of the Government into the papers of their
predecessors has as yet only disclosed the facts, that most of the
conspiracies against the Empire were got up by the police, and that the
Emperor bribed porters and postmen to open letters. His main object
seems to have been to get hold of the letters of his Ministers to their
mistresses. The fourth livraison of the Tuileries papers contains the
report of a spy on the doings of the Russian Military Attaché. This
gentleman lost some document, and observes that it can only be his
Prussian colleague who took it from him. Such is diplomacy. The weather
is beautiful. Women and children are making holiday in the streets. The
inner line of barricades is nearly finished.


_Evening._

The news of the fall of Strasburg and Toul was received by the
Government here this morning, and has just been made public. "In
falling," says M. Gambetta, "they cast a glance towards Paris to affirm
once more the unity and indivisibility of the Republic; and they leave
us as a legacy the duty to deliver them, the honour to revenge them."
The Boulevards were crowded, and everyone seemed as much astonished as
if they had never believed this double disaster to be possible. Many
refused to credit the news. _L'Electeur Libre_ proposes to meet the
emergency by sending "virile missionaries into the provinces to organise
a _levée en masse_, to drive from our territory the impious hordes which
are overrunning it." These missionaries would, I presume, go to their
posts in balloons. It never seems to occur to anyone here that the
authority of a Parisian dropping down from the clouds in a parachute in
any province would be contested. The right of Paris to rule France is a
dictum so unquestioned in the minds of the Parisians, that their
newspapers are now urging the Government to send new men to Tours to
oust those who were sent there before the commencement of the siege. It
strikes no one that the thirty-eight million of Frenchmen outside Paris
may be of opinion that the centralization of all power in the hands of
the most corrupt and frivolous capital in the universe has had its share
in reducing France to her present desperate condition, and may be
resolved to assert their claim to have a voice in the conduct of public
affairs. The Parisians regard all provincials as helots, whose sole
business it is to hear and to obey. If the result to France of her
disasters could be to free her at once from the domination of the
Emperor and of Paris, she would in the end be the gainer by them.

I hear that General Vinoy expresses himself very satisfied with the
soldierly bearing of the Mobiles who were under fire on Friday. It was
far better, he says, than he expected. He ascribes the failure of his
sortie to the forts having forewarned the Prussians by their heavy
firing between three and four o'clock in the morning. M. de Rohan,
"delegate of the democracy of England," has written a long letter to M.
Jules Favre informing him that a friend who has arrived from London (!)
has brought news of an immense meeting which has been held in favour of
France, and that this meeting represents the opinion of the whole of
England. M. Jules Favre, in his reply, expresses his sincere thanks "for
the sentiments which have been so nobly expressed in the name of the
English nation." The correspondence occupies two columns in the _Journal
Officiel_. M. de Rohan's residence in England is, I should imagine, in
the vicinity of Tooley-street.


_October 3rd._

The _Journal Officiel_ contains a decree ordering the statue of
Strasburg, on the Place de la Concorde, to be replaced by one in bronze.
No war news.




CHAPTER V.


_October 5th._

From a military, or rather an engineering point of view, Paris is
stronger to-day than it was two weeks ago. The defences have been
strengthened. With respect, however, to its defenders, they are much
what they were. The soldiers of the line and the marines are soldiers;
the Mobiles and the Nationaux, with some few exceptions, remain armed
citizens. Each battalion is an _imperium in imperio_. The men ignore
every one except their own officers, and these officers exercise but
little influence except when they consent to act in strict accordance
with the feelings of those whom they are supposed to command. Some of
the battalions appear to be anxious to fight, but it unfortunately
happens that these are the very ones which are most undisciplined. The
battalions of the _bourgeois_ quarters obey orders, but there is no go
in them. The battalions of the artizan Faubourgs have plenty of go, but
they do not obey orders. General Trochu either cannot, or does not,
desire to enforce military discipline. Outside the enceinte, the hands
of the Mobiles are against every man, but no notice is taken when they
fire at or arrest officers of other corps. The Courts-martial which sit
are a mere farce. I see that yesterday a Franc-tireur was tried for
breaking his musket when ordered to march. He was acquitted because the
court came to the conclusion that he was "un brave garçon." The
application of military law to the Nationaux is regarded by these
citizens as an act of arbitrary power. Yesterday several battalions
passed the following resolution:--"In order to preserve at once
necessary discipline and the rights of citizens, no man shall
henceforward be brought before a council of war, or be awarded a
punishment, except with the consent of the family council of his
company."

I am not a military man, but it certainly does appear to me strange that
the Prussians are allowed quietly to entrench themselves round the city,
and that they are not disturbed by feints and real sorties. We can act
on the inner lines, we have got a circular railroad, and we have armed
men in numbers. General Trochu has announced that he has a plan, the
success of which he guarantees; he declines to confide to a soul any of
its details, but he announces that he has deposited it with his notary,
Maître Duclos, in order that it may not be lost to the world in the
event of his being killed. As yet no one has fathomed this mysterious
plan; it appears to contemplate defensive rather than offensive
operations.

Mont Valérien now fires daily. Its commander has been changed; its
former one has been removed because the protests against the silence of
this fort were so loud and strong. His successor, with the fate of his
predecessor before him, bangs away at every Uhlan within sight. For the
commanders of forts to be forced to keep up a continual fire in order to
satisfy public opinion, is not an encouraging state of things. The
assertion of the Government, that no reports of what is going on in
France have been received from Tours, is discredited. They have got
themselves in a mess by their former declarations that communications
with the exterior were kept up; for if they know nothing, it is asked
what can these communications have been worth. Our last news from
outside is derived from a Rouen newspaper of the 29th ult., which is
published to-day.

A few days ago it was announced that all pledges below the value of
20fr. would be returned by the Mont-de-Piété without payment. Since then
everyone has been pledging articles for sums below this amount, as a
second decree of the same nature is expected. It is not a bad plan to
give relief in this manner to those in want. As yet, however, there is
no absolute destitution, and as long as the provisions last I do not
think that there will be. So long as flour and meat last, everyone with
more or less trouble will get his share. As the amount of both these
articles is, however, finite, one of these days we shall hear that they
are exhausted. The proprietors have been deprived of their power to sue
for rents, consequently a family requires but little ready money to rub
on from hand to mouth. My landlord every week presents me with my bill.
The ceremony seems to please him, and does me no harm. I have pasted
upon my mantlepiece the decree of the Government adjourning payment of
rent, and the right to read and re-read this document is all that he
will get from me until the end of the siege. Yesterday I ordered myself
a warm suit of clothes; I chose a tailor with a German name, so I feel
convinced that he will not venture to ask for payment under the present
circumstances, and if he does he will not get it. If my funds run out
before the siege is over I shall have at least the pleasure to think
that this has not been caused by improvidence.

Some acquaintances of mine managed in the course of yesterday to get out
to Villejuif without being arrested. I have not been so fortunate. I
have charged the _barrières_ three times, and each time have had to
retire discomfited. My friends describe the soldiers of the line in the
front as utterly despising their allies the Mobiles. They camp out
without tents, in order to be ready at any moment to resist an attack.


_October 7th._

Paris would hardly be recognised under its present aspect by those
citizens of the Far West who are in the habit of regarding it as a place
where good Americans go when they die. In the garden of the Tuileries,
where _bonnes_ used to flirt with guardsmen, there is an artillery camp.
The guns, the pickets of horses, the tents, the camp-fires, and the
soldiers in their shirt-sleeves, have a picturesque effect under the
great trees. On the Place de la Concorde from morning to evening there
is a mob discussing things in general, and watching the regiments as
they defile with their crowns before the statue of Strasburg. In the
morning the guns of the forts can be heard heavily booming; but the
sound has now lost its novelty, and no one pays more attention to it
than the miller to the wheel of his mill. In the Champs Elysées there
are no private carriages, and few persons sitting on the chairs. The
Palais de l'Industrie is the central ambulance; the Cirque de
l'Impératrice a barrack. All the cafés chantants are closed. Some few
youthful votaries of pleasure still patronise the merry-go-rounds; but
the business cannot be a lucrative one. Along the quays by the river
side there are cavalry and infantry regiments under tentes d'abri. The
Champ de Mars is a camp. In most of the squares there are sheep and
oxen. On the outer Boulevards lines of huts have been built for the
Mobiles, and similar huts are being erected along the Rue des Remparts
for the Nationaux on duty. Everywhere there are squads of Nationaux,
some learning the goose-step, others practising skirmishing between the
carts and fiacres, others levelling their guns and snapping them off at
imaginary Prussians. The omnibuses are crowded; and I fear greatly that
their horses will be far from tender when we eat them. The cabbies,
once so haughty and insolent, are humble and conciliatory, for Brutus
and Scævola have taught them manners, and usually pay their fares in
patriotic speeches. At the Arc de Triomphe, at the Trocadero, and at
Passy, near the Point du Jour, there are always crowds trying to see the
Prussians on the distant hills, and in the Avenue de l'Impératrice (now
the Avenue Uhrich), there are always numerous admirers of Mont Valérien
gazing silently upon the object of their worship. In the Faubourg St.
Antoine workmen are lounging about doing nothing, and watching others
drilling. In the outer faubourgs much the same thing goes on, except
where barricades are being built. Round each of these there is always a
crowd of men and women, apparently expecting the enemy to assault them
every moment. At the different gates of the town there are companies of
Mobiles and National Guards, who sternly repel every civilian who seeks
to get through them. On an average of every ten minutes, no matter where
one is, one meets either a battalion of Nationaux or Mobiles, marching
somewhere. The asphalt of the boulevards, that sacred ground of dandies
and smart dresses, is deserted during the daytime. In the evening for
about two hours it is thronged by Nationaux with their wives; Mobiles
who ramble along, grinning vaguely, hand in hand, as though they were in
their native villages; and loafers. There, and in the principal streets,
speculators have taken advantage of the rights of man to stop up the
side walks with tables on which their wares are displayed. On some of
them there are kepis, on others ointment for corns, on others statuettes
of the two inseparables of Berlin, William and his little Bismarck, on
others General Trochu and the members of the Government in gilt
gingerbread. The street-hawkers are enjoying a perfect carnival--the
last editions of the papers--the Tuileries' papers--the caricatures of
Badinguet--portraits of the heroic Uhrich, and infallible cures for the
small-pox or for worms, are offered for sale by stentorian lungs.
Citizens, too, equally bankrupt alike in voice and in purse, place four
lighted candles on the pavement, and from the midst of this circle of
light dismally croak the "Marseillaise" and other patriotic songs. As
for beggars, their name is legion; but as every one who wants food can
get it at the public cantines, their piteous whines are disregarded.
Lodgings are to be hired in the best streets for about one-tenth part of
what was asked for them two months ago, and even that need not be paid.
Few shops are shut; but their proprietors sit, hoping against hope, for
some customer to appear. The grocers, the butchers, and the bakers, and
the military tailors, still make money; but they are denounced for doing
so at the clubs as bad patriots. As for the hotels, almost all of them
are closed. At the Grand Hotel, there are not twenty persons. Business
of every kind is at a standstill. Those who have money, live on it;
those who have not, live on the State: the former shrug their shoulders
and say, "Provided it does not last;" the latter do not mind how long it
lasts. All are comparatively happy in the thought that the eyes of
Europe are on them, and that they have already thrown Leonidas and his
Spartans into the shade.

The Government has placarded to-day a despatch from Tours. Two armies
are already formed, we are told--one at Lyons, and the other at----. The
situation of Bazaine is excellent. The provinces are ready. The
departments are organising to the cry of "Guerre à outrance, ni un pouce
de terrain, ni une pierre de nos forteresses!" I trust that the news is
true; but I have an ineradicable distrust of all French official
utterances. A partial attempt is being made to relieve the population.
At the Mairies of the arrondissements, tickets are delivered to heads of
families, giving them the right to a certain portion of meat per diem
until January. The restaurants are still fairly supplied; so that the
system of rationing is not yet carried out in its integrity.

I am not entirely without hopes that the trial through which France is
passing will in the end benefit it. Although we still brag a good deal,
there is within the last few days a slight diminution of bluster. Cooped
up here, week after week, the population must in the end realise the
fact that the world can move on without them, and that twenty years of
despotism has enervated them and made other nations their equals, if not
their superiors. As Sydney Smith said of Macaulay, they have occasional
flashes of silence. They sit, now and then, silent and gloomy, and mourn
for the "Pauvre France." "Nous sommes bien tombés." This is a good sign,
but will it outlive a single gleam of success? Shall we not in that case
have the Gallic cock crowing as lustily as ever? The French have many
amiable and engaging qualities, and if adversity would only teach them
wisdom, the country is rich enough to rise from the ruin which has
overtaken it. M. Jules Simon has published a plan of education which he
says in twenty years will produce a race of virile citizens; but this is
a little long to wait for a social regeneration. At present they are
schoolboys, accustomed to depend on their masters for everything, and
the defence of Paris is little more than the "barring out" of a girls'
school. They cannot, like Anglo-Saxons, organise themselves, and they
have no man at their head of sufficient force of character to impose his
will upon them. The existing Government has, it is true, to a certain
extent produced administrative order, but they have not succeeded in
inspiring confidence in themselves, or in raising the spirit of the
Parisians to the level of the situation. The Ultras say justly, that
this negative system cannot last, and that prompt action is as much a
political as it is a military necessity.

The sixth livraison of the Tuileries papers has just appeared. Its
contents are unimportant. There is a receipt from Miss Howard, the
Emperor's former mistress, showing that between 1850 and 1855 she
received above five million francs. This sum was not, however, a
sufficient remuneration in her opinion, for her services, as in July,
1855, she writes for more, and says "the Emperor is too good to leave a
woman whom he has tenderly loved in a false position." This and several
other of her letters are addressed to the Emperor's Secretary, whose
functions seem to have been of a peculiarly domestic character. Indeed,
the person who fulfilled them would everywhere, except at a Court, have
been called something less euphonious than "secretary." A report from M.
Duvergier, ex-Secretary-General of the Police, is published respecting
the _Cabinet Noir_. It is addressed to the then Minister of the
Interior. It is lengthy, and very detailed. It appears that occasionally
the Emperor's own letters were opened.

I went to the Hôtel de Ville this afternoon, to see whether anything was
going on there. Several battalions passed by, but they did not
demonstrate _en passant_. The place was full of groups of what in
England would be called the "dangerous classes." They were patiently
listening to various orators who were denouncing everything in general,
and the Government in particular. The principal question seemed to be
that of arms. Frenchmen are so accustomed to expect their Governments to
do everything for them, that they cannot understand why, although there
were but few Chassepots in the city, every citizen should not be given
one. It is indeed necessary to live here and to mix with all classes to
realise the fact that the Parisians have until now lived in an ideal
world of their own creation. Their orators, their statesmen, and their
journalists, have traded upon the traditions of the First Empire, and
persuaded them that they are a superior race, and that their
superiority is universally recognised. Utterly ignorant of foreign
languages and of foreign countries, they believe that their literature
is the only one in the world, and that a Frenchman abroad is adored as
something little less than a divinity. They regard the Prussians round
their city much as the citizens of Sparta would have regarded Helots,
and they are so astonished at their reverses, that they are utterly
unable to realise what is going on. As for trying to make them
comprehend that Paris ought to enjoy no immunity from attack which
Berlin or London might not equally claim, it is labour lost. "The
neutrals," I heard a member of the late Assembly shouting in a café,
"are traitors to civilisation in not coming to the aid of the Queen of
Europe." They did their very best, they declare, to prevent Napoleon
from making war. Yet one has only to talk with one of them for half an
hour to find that he still hankers after the Rhine, and thinks that
France wishes to be supreme in Europe.


_October 8th._

Yesterday I happened to be calling at the Embassy, when a young English
gentleman made his appearance, and quietly asked whether he could take
any letters to England. He is to start to-day in a balloon, and has paid
5,000f. for his place. I gave him a letter, and a copy of one which I
had confided on Wednesday to an Irishman who is trying to get through
the lines. I hear that to-morrow the Columbian Minister is going to the
Prussian Headquarters, and a friend of mine assures me that he thinks if
I give him a letter by one o'clock to-day this diplomatist will take it.
The Corps Diplomatique are excessively indignant with the reply they
have received from Count Bismarck, declining to allow any but open
despatches through the Prussian lines. They have held an indignation
meeting. M. Kern, the Swiss Minister, has drawn up a protest, which has
been signed by himself and all his colleagues. The Columbian Minister
is to be the bearer of it. It bombards Bismarck with copious extracts
from Puffendorf and Grotius, and cites a case in point from the siege of
Vienna in the 15th century. It will be remembered that Messenger
Johnson, at the risk of his life and at a very great expense to the
country, brought despatches to the Parisian Embassy on the second day of
the siege. I recommend Mr. Rylands, or some other M.P. of independent
character, to insist upon Parliament being informed what these important
despatches were. The revelation will be a curious one.

Yesterday afternoon I made an excursion into the Bois de Boulogne under
the convoy of a friend in power. We went out by the Porte de Neuilly.
Anything like the scene of artificial desolation and ruin outside this
gate it is impossible to imagine. The houses are blown up--in some
places the bare walls are still standing, in others even these have been
thrown down. The Bois itself, from being the most beautiful park in the
world, has become a jungle of underwood. In the roads there are large
barricades formed of the trees which used to line them, which have been
cut down. Between the ramparts and the lake the wood is swept clean
away, and the stumps of the trees have been sharpened to a point. About
8,000 soldiers are encamped in the open air on the race-course and in
the Bois. Near Suresnes there is a redoubt which throws shell and shot
into St. Cloud. We are under the impression that the firing from this
redoubt, from Valérien, Issy, and the gunboat Farcy, which took place on
Thursday morning, between 2 a.m. and 8 a.m., has destroyed the batteries
and earthworks which the Prussians were erecting on the heights of St.
Cloud and Meudon-Clamart. You, however, are better informed respecting
the damage which was done than we are. When I was in the Bois the
redoubt was not firing, and the sailors who man it were lounging about,
exactly as though they had been on board ship. Occasionally
Mont-Valérien fired a shot, but it was only a sort of visiting card to
the Prussians, for with the best glasses we could see nothing of them.
Indeed, the way they keep under cover is something wonderful. "I have
been for three weeks in a fort," said the aide-de-camp of one of the
commanders of a southern fort, "every day we have made reconnaissances,
and I have not seen one single Prussian."

From what I learn, on good authority, the political situation is this.
The Government consists mainly of Orleanists. When they assumed the
direction of public affairs, they hoped to interest either Austria or
Russia in the cause of France. They were, therefore, very careful to
avoid as much as possible any Republican propagandism either at home or
abroad. Little by little they have discovered that if France is to be
saved it must be by herself. Some of them, however, still hanker after a
Russian intervention, and do not wish to weaken M. Thiers' prospects of
success at St. Petersburg. They have, however, been obliged to yield to
the Republicanism of the Parisian "men of action," and they have
gradually drifted into a Government charged not only with the defence of
the country, but also with the establishment of a Republic. As is usual
in all councils, the extreme party has gained the ascendancy. But the
programme of the Ultras of the "ins" falls far short of that of the
Ultras of the "outs." The latter are continually referring to '93, and
as the Committee of Public Safety then saved France, they are unable to
understand why the same organisation should not save it now. Their
leaders demand a Commune, because they hope to be among its members. The
masses support them, because they sincerely believe that in the election
of a Commune Paris will find her safety. The Government is accused of a
want of energy. "Are we to remain cooped up here until we are starved
out?" ask the Ultras. "As a military man, I decline to make a sortie,"
replies General Trochu. "We are not in '93. War is waged in a more
scientific manner," whispers Ernest Picard. The plan of the Government,
if plan it has, appears to be to wear out the endurance of the besiegers
by a defensive attitude, until either an army from the provinces cuts
off their communications, or the public opinion of Europe forces them to
raise the siege. The plan of the Ultras is to save Paris by Paris; to
make continual sorties, and, every now and then, one in such force that
it will be a battle. I am inclined to think that theoretically the
Government plan is the best, but it ignores the material it has to do
with, and it will find itself obliged either to adopt the policy of the
Ultras, or to allow them to elect a "Commune," which would soon absorb
all power. The position appears to me to be a false one, owing to the
attempt to rule France from Paris through an occasional despatch by
balloon. What ought to have been done was to remove the seat of
Government to another town before the siege commenced, and to have left
either Trochu or some other military man here to defend Paris, as Uhrich
defended Strasburg. But the Government consisted of the deputies of
Paris; and had they moved the seat of Government, they would have lost
their _locus standi_. Everyone here sees the absurdity of Palikao's
declaration, that Bazaine was commander-in-chief when he was invested in
Metz, but no one seems to see the still greater absurdity of the supreme
civil and military Government of the whole country remaining in Paris
whilst it is invested by the German armies. Yesterday, for instance, a
decree was issued allowing the town of Roubaix to borrow, I forget how
much. Can anything be more absurd than for a provincial town to be
forced to wait for such an authorisation until it receives it from
Paris? It is true that there is a delegation at Tours, but, so long as
it is nothing but a delegation, it will be hindered in its operations by
the dread of doing anything which may conflict with the views of its
superiors here. Paris at present is as great an incubus to France as the
Emperor was. Yesterday M. Gambetta started in a balloon for Tours, and
in the interests of France I shall be glad to see his colleagues one and
all follow him. The day before a balloon had been prepared for him, but
his nerves failed him at the last moment, and he deferred his departure
for twenty-four hours.

M. Rochefort was "interviewed" yesterday by a deputation of women, who
asked to be employed in the hospitals instead, of the men who are now
there. He promised to take their request into consideration. I was down
yesterday at the headquarters of the Ambulance Internationale, and I
cannot say that I think that the accusations of the Ultra-press
respecting the number of young Frenchmen there, is borne out by facts.
There have been, however, a vast number of _petits crevés_ and others
who have shirked military service by forming themselves into amateur
ambulances. The "sergents de ville" have received orders to arrest
anyone wearing the Red Cross who is unable to produce his certificate as
an _infirmier_. This has thrown the _petits crevés_--the pets of priests
and old ladies--those youths who are best described by the English
expression, "nice young men for a small tea-party"--into consternation.
I saw yesterday one of these emasculated specimens of humanity arrayed
in a suit of velvet knickerbockers, with a red cross on his arm, borne
off to prison, notwithstanding his whining protests.

Another abuse which has been put an end to is that of ladies going about
begging for money for the "wounded." They are no longer allowed to do so
unless they have an authorisation. I have a lively recollection of an
old grandaunt of mine, who used to dun every one she met for a shilling
for the benefit of the souls of the natives of Southern Africa, and as I
know that the shillings never went beyond ministering to the wants of
this aged relative, warned by precocious experience, I have not allowed
myself to be caught by the "ladies."

A singular remonstrance has been received at the British Embassy. In the
Rue de Chaillot resides a celebrated English courtezan, called Cora
Pearl, and above her house floats the English flag. The inhabitants of
the street request the "Ambassador of England, a country the purity and
the decency of whose manners is well known," to cause this bit of
bunting, which is a scandal in their eyes, to be hauled down. I left Mr.
Wodehouse consulting the text writers upon international law, in order
to discover a precedent for the case. Colonel Claremont is doing his
best to look after the interests of his fellow-countrymen. I had a
prejudice against this gentleman, because I was unable to believe that
any one hailing from the Horse Guards could under any circumstances make
himself a useful member of society. I find, however, that he is a man of
energy and good common sense, with very little of the pipeclay about
him.

From Monday next a new system of the distribution of meat is to come
into force. Between 450 and 500 oxen and 3,500 sheep are to be daily
slaughtered. This meat is to be divided into twenty lots, one for each
arrondissement, the size of each lot to be determined by the number of
the inhabitants of the particular arrondissement. The lot will then be
divided between the butchers in the arrondissement, at twenty centimes
per kilogramme below the retail price. Each arrondissement may, however,
adopt a system of rations. I suspect most of the beef I have eaten of
late is horse; anyhow, it does not taste like ordinary beef. To obtain a
joint at home is almost impossible. In the first place, it is difficult
to purchase it; in the second place, if, when bought, it is spotted by
patriots going through the street, it is seized upon on the ground that
any one who can obtain a joint for love or money must be an aristocrat
who is getting more than his share. I met a lady early this morning, who
used to be most fashionable. She was walking along with a parcel under
her shawl, and six dogs were following her. She asked me to drive them
away, but they declined to go. I could not understand their sudden
affection for my fair friend, until she confided to me that she had two
pounds of mutton in her parcel. A tariff for horse-flesh is published
to-day; it costs--the choice parts, whichever they may be--1f 40c. the
kilo.; the rest, 80c. the kilo.

_Figaro_ yesterday published a "correspondence from Orleans." The
_Official Gazette_ of this morning publishes an official note from the
Prefect of Police stating that this correspondence is "a lie, such as
those which the _Figaro_ invents every day."


_Afternoon._

I have just returned from the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville. When I got
there at about two o'clock six or seven thousand manifesters had already
congregated there. They were all, as is the nature of Frenchmen in a
crowd, shouting their political opinions into their neighbours' ears.
Almost all of them were Nationaux from the Faubourgs, and although they
were not armed, they wore a kepi, or some other distinctive military
badge. As well as I could judge, nine out of ten were working men. Their
object, as a sharp, wiry artizan bellowed into my ear, was to force the
Government to consent to the election of a Commune, in order that the
Chassepots may be more fairly distributed between the bourgeois and the
ouvriers, and that Paris shall no longer render itself ridiculous by
waiting within its walls until its provisions are exhausted and it is
forced to capitulate. There appeared to be no disposition to pillage;
rightly or wrongly, these men consider that the Government is wanting in
energy, and that it is the representative of the bourgeoisie and not of
the entire population. Every now and then, some one shouted out "Vive
la Commune!" and all waved their caps and took up the cry. After these
somewhat monotonous proceedings had continued about half an hour,
several bourgeois battalions of National Guards came along the quay, and
drew up in line, four deep, before the Hôtel de Ville. They were not
molested except with words. The leading ranks of the manifesters
endeavoured by their eloquence to convince them that they ought not to
prevent citizens peacefully expressing their opinions; but the grocers
stood stolidly to their arms, and vouchsafed no reply. At three o'clock
General Trochu with his staff rode along inside the line, and then
withdrew. General Tamisier then made a speech, which of course no one
could hear. Shortly afterwards there was a cry of "Voilà Flourens--Voilà
nos amis," and an ouvrier battalion with its band playing the
Marseillaise marched by. They did not halt, notwithstanding the
entreaties of the manifesters, for they were bound, their officers
explained, on a sacred mission, to deposit a crown before the statue of
Strasburg. When I left the Place the crowd was, I think, increasing, and
as I drove along the Rue Rivoli I met several bourgeois battalions
marching towards the Hôtel de Ville. I presume, therefore, that General
Trochu had thought it expedient to send reinforcements. "We will come
back again with arms," was the general cry among the ouvriers, and
unless things mend for the better I imagine that they will keep their
word. The line of demarcation between the bourgeois and the ouvrier
battalions is clearly marked, and they differ as much in their opinions
as in their appearance. The sleek, well-fed shopkeeper of the Rue
Vivienne, although patriotic, dreads disorder, and does not absolutely
contemplate with pleasure an encounter with the Prussians. The wild,
impulsive working man from Belleville or La Villette dreads neither
Prussians without, nor anarchy within. If he could only find a leader he
would blow up himself and half Paris rather than submit to the
humiliation of a capitulation. Anything he thinks is better than this
"masterly inactivity." Above the din of the crowd the cannon could be
heard sullenly firing from the forts; but even this warning of how near
the foe is, seemed to convey no lesson to avoid civil strife. Unless
General Trochu is a man of more energy than I take him to be, if ever
the Prussians do get into the town they will find us in the condition of
the Kilkenny cats.


_October 9th._

The representative of the Republic of Columbia, to whom I had given my
letter of yesterday, has returned it to me, as he was afraid to cross
the lines with it. The Briton who has paid for a place in a balloon is
still here, and he imagines that he will start to-morrow, so I shall
give him my Columbian letter and this one. I understand that any one who
is ready to give assurances that he will praise everything and every one
belonging to the Government, is afforded facilities for sending out
letters by the Post-office balloons, but I am not prepared to give any
other pledge except that I shall tell the truth without fear or favour.

The _Journal Officiel_ of this morning, and the Moderate papers, boast
that the Ultra manifestation of yesterday was a complete failure. As
usual, they cry before they are out of the wood. After I left the Place
it appears that there was a counter manifestation of bourgeois National
Guards, who arrived in military order with their arms. Jules Favre
addressed them. Now as far as I can make out, these battalions went to
the Hôtel de Ville on their own initiative. No one, however, seems to
see any incongruity in the friends of the Government making an armed
demonstration as a protest against armed and unarmed demonstrations in
general. The question of the municipal elections will lie dormant for a
few days, but I see no evidence that those who were in favour of it have
altered their minds. As far as yesterday's proceedings were concerned,
they only go to prove the fact, which no one ever doubted, that the
bourgeoisie and their adherents are ready to support the Government, but
they have also proved to my mind conclusively that the working men as a
body have entirely lost all confidence in the men at the head of
affairs.

On the pure merits of the question, I think that the working men have
reason on their side. They know clearly what they want--to make sorties
and to endeavour to destroy the enemy's works; if this fails--to make
provisions last as long as possible by a system of rationing--and then
to destroy Paris rather than surrender it. The Government and their
adherents are waiters on Providence, and, except that they have some
vague idea that the Army of the Loire will perform impossibilities, they
are contented to live on from day to day, and to hope that something
will happen to avert the inevitable catastrophe. I can understand a
military dictatorship in a besieged capital, and I can understand a
small elected council acting with revolutionary energy; but what I
cannot understand is a military governor who fears to enforce military
discipline, and a dozen respectable lawyers and orators, whose sole idea
of Government is, as Blanqui truly says, to issue decrees and
proclamations, and to make speeches. The only practical man among them
is M. Dorian, the Minister of Public Works, M. Dorian is a hard-headed
manufacturer, and utterly ignoring red tape, clerks, and routine; he has
set all the private ateliers to work, to make cannon and muskets. I have
not yet heard of his making a single speech, or issuing a single
proclamation since the commencement of the siege, and he alone of his
colleagues appears to me to be the right man in the right place. I do
not take my views of the working men from the nonsense which is printed
about them in official and semi-official organs. They are the only class
here which, to use an Americanism, is not "played out." The Government
dreads them as much as the Empire did; but although they are too much
carried away by their enthusiasm and their impulsiveness, they are the
only persons in Paris who appear to have a grain of common sense. "As
for the Army of the Loire," said one of them to me this morning, "no
one, except a fool or a Government employé, can believe that it will
ever be able to raise the siege, and as for all these bourgeois, they
consider that they are heroes because once or twice a week they pass the
night at the ramparts; they think first of their shops, then of their
country." "But how can you imagine that you and your friends would be
able to defeat the Prussians, who are disciplined soldiers?" I asked.
"We can at least try," he replied. I ventured to point out to my friend
that perhaps a little discipline in the ouvrier battalions might not be
a bad thing; but he insisted that the indiscipline was caused by their
distrust of their rulers, and that they were ready to obey their
officers. "Take," he said "Flourens' battalions. They do not, it is
true, march as regularly as the bourgeois, and they have nothing but
kepis and old muskets; but, as far as fighting goes, they are worth all
the bourgeois put together." I do not say that Trochu is not wise to
depend upon the bourgeois; all I say is, that as the Empire fell because
it did not venture to arm any except the regular soldiers, so will Paris
render itself the laughing stock of Europe, if its defence is to depend
upon an apocryphal Army of the Loire, marines from the Navy, peasants
from the provinces, and the National Guards of the wealthy quarters. To
talk of the heroic attitude of Paris, when the Parisians have not been
under fire, is simply absurd. As long as the outer forts hold out, it is
no more dangerous to "man the ramparts" than to mount guard at the
Tuileries. I saw to-day a company of mounted National Guards exercising.
Their uniforms were exquisitely clean, but I asked myself of what
earthly use they were. Their commander ordered them to charge, when
every horse butted against the one next to him. I believe a heavy gale
of wind would have disconnected all these warriors from their chargers.
I fully recognise the fact that the leaders of the ouvriers talk a great
deal of nonsense, and that they are actuated as much by personal
ambition as by patriotism; but it is certain that the individual working
man is the only reality in this population of corrupt and emasculated
humbugs; everyone else is a windbag and a sham.

A decree has been issued, informing all who have no means of subsistence
that they will receive a certain amount of bread per diem upon
application at their respective mairies. We are also told that if we
wish to make puddings of the blood of oxen, we must mix pigs' blood with
it, otherwise it will be unwholesome.

It has been showery to-day, and I never have witnessed a more dismal
Sunday in Paris. A pigeon from. Gambetta's balloon has returned, but
this foolish bird lost _en route_ the message which was attached to its
neck.




CHAPTER VI.


_October 10th._

It is very curious how close, under certain conditions of wind and
temperature, the cannonade appears to be, even in the centre of the
town. This morning I was returning home at about two o'clock, when I
heard a succession of detonations so distinctly, that I literally went
into the next street, as I imagined that a house must be falling down
there. It is said that the palace of St. Cloud has been destroyed.

As well as I can learn, General Burnside came into Paris mainly to
discuss with Mr. Washburne the possibility of the American families who
are still here being allowed to pass the Prussian lines. He saw Jules
Favre, but, if he attempted any species of negotiation, it could have
led to nothing, as we are so absolutely confident that the Army of the
Loire will in a few days cut off the Prussian supplies, and we are so
proud of our attitude, that I really believe if Jules Favre were to
consent to pay a war indemnity as a condition of peace, he and his
friends would be driven from power the next day.

Having nothing particularly to boast of to-day, the newspapers request
the world to be good enough to turn its eyes upon Gambetta traversing
space in a balloon. A nation whose Minister is capable of this heroic
feat must eventually drive the enemy from its soil. The _Figaro_, in
fact, hints that in all probability peace will be signed at Berlin at no
very distant date. The _Gaulois_, a comparatively sensible newspaper,
thus deals with this aërial voyage:--"As the balloon passed above the
Prussian armies, amid the clouds and the birds, the old William probably
turned to Bismarck and asked, 'What is that black point in the sky?' 'It
is a Minister,' replied Bismarck; 'it is the heroic Gambetta, on his way
to the Loire. In Paris he named prefects; on the Loire he will assemble
battalions.' Favourable winds wafted the balloon on her course; perhaps
Gambetta landed at Cahors, his natal town, perhaps somewhere
else--perhaps in the arms of Crémieux, that aged lion. To-morrow the
provinces will resound with his voice, which will mingle with the
rattling of arms and the sound of drums. Like a trumpet, it will peal
along the Loire, inflaming hearts, forming battalions, and causing the
manes of St. Just and Desmoulins to rise from their graves."

Yesterday a battalion of the National Guard was drawn up before the
Hôtel de Ville, but there was no demonstration of the Ultras. M. Arago,
the Mayor of Paris, made a few speeches from a window, which are
described as inflaming the hearts of these heroic soldiers of the
country. The rain, however, in the end, sent the heroic soldiers home,
and obliged M. Arago to shut his window. A day never passes without one
or more of our rulers putting his head out of some window or other, and
what is called "delivering himself up to a fervid improvisation." The
Ultra newspapers are never tired of abusing the priests, who are
courageously and honestly performing their duty. Yesterday I read a
letter from a patriot, in which he complains that this caste of crows
are to decree the field of battle, and asks the Government to decree
that the last moments of virtuous citizens, dying for their country,
shall not be troubled by this new Horror. To-day a citizen writes as
follows:--"Why are not the National Guards installed in the churches?
Not only might they find in these edifices dedicated to an extinct
superstition, shelter from the weather, but orators might from time to
time in the pulpits deliver speeches. Those churches which are not
required by the National Guard might serve as excellent stables for the
oxen, the sheep, and the hogs, which are now parked out in the open
air."

Next to the priests and the churches, the streets named after members
and friends of the late Imperial family excite the ire of patriots. The
inhabitants of the quartier Prince Eugène, have, I read to-day, decided
that the Boulevard Prince Eugène shall henceforward be called the
Boulevard Dussault, "the noble child of the Haute Vienne, who was
murdered by the aides of the infamous Bonaparte."

We are not, as you might perhaps suppose, wanting in news. The French
journalists, even when communications with the rest of the world were
open, preferred to evolve their facts from their moral consciousness--their
hand has not lost its cunning. Peasants, who play the part here of the
intelligent contraband of the American civil war, bring in daily the most
wonderful stories of the misery which the Prussians are suffering, and the
damage which our artillery is causing them--and these tales are duly
published. Then, at least three times a week we kill a Prussian Prince,
and "an army" relieves Bazaine. A few days ago a troop of 1500 oxen marched
into our lines, "they were French oxen, and they were impelled by their
patriotism." This beats the ducks who asked the old woman to come and kill
them.

The clubs appear to be divided upon the question of the "commune." In
most of them, however, resolutions have been passed reaffirming their
determination to hold the elections with or without the consent of the
Government. Rochefort to-day publishes a sensible reply to Flourens, who
called upon him to explain why he does not resign. "I have," he says,
"descended into the most impenetrable recesses of my conscience, and I
have emerged with the conviction that my withdrawal would cause a
conflict, and this would open a breach to the Prussians. You will say
that I am capitulating with my convictions; if it be so, I do not
necessarily capitulate with the Prussians. I silence my political
instincts; let our brave friends in Belleville allow theirs to sleep for
a time." I understand that in the council which was held to decide upon
the advisability of adjourning these elections, Rochefort, Simon, Ferry,
and Arago voted against the adjournment, and Pelletan, Garnier Pagés,
Picard, and Favre in favour of it. Trochu then decided the question in
the affirmative by a threat that, if the elections were allowed to take
place, he would resign.


_October 11th._

The notions of a Pall Mall dandy respecting Southwark or the Tower
Hamlets are not more vague than those of the Parisian bourgeois or the
Professional French journalist respecting the vast Faubourgs peopled by
the working men which encircle this city. From actual observation they
know nothing of them. They believe them to be the homes of a dangerous
class--communistic and anarchical in its tendencies, the sworn foes
alike of law, order, and property. The following are the articles of
faith of the journalist:--France is the world. Paris is France. The
boulevards, the theatres, some fifty writers on the press, and the
bourgeoisie of the fashionable quarters of the city, are Paris. Within
this narrow circle he may reason justly, but he never emerges from it,
and consequently cannot instruct others about what he does not know
himself. Since the fall of the Emperor, the Parisian bourgeois has
vaguely felt that he has been surrounded by two hostile armies--the
Prussian without the walls, and the working men within. He has placed
his trust in Trochu, as twenty years ago he did in Cavaignac. The siege
had not lasted a week before he became convinced that the Prussians were
afraid of him, because they had not attacked the town; and within the
last few days he has acquired the conviction, upon equally excellent
grounds, that the working men also tremble before his martial attitude.
On Friday last he achieved what he considers a crowning triumph, and he
is now under the impression that he has struck terror into the breasts
of the advocates of the Commune by marching with his battalion to the
Hôtel de Ville. "We"--and by "we" he means General Trochu and
himself--"we have shown them that we are not to be trifled with," is his
boast from morning to night. Now, if instead of reading newspapers which
only reflect his own views, and passing his time, whether on the
ramparts or in a café, surrounded by men who share his prejudices, the
worthy bourgeois would be good enough to accompany me to Belleville or
La Villette, he would perhaps realise the fact that, as usual, he is
making himself comfortable in a fool's paradise. He would have an
opportunity to learn that, while the working men have not the remotest
intention to pillage his shop, they are equally determined not to allow
him and his friends to make Paris the laughing-stock of Europe. With
them the "Commune" is but a means to an end. What they want is a
Government which will carry out in sober earnest M. Jules Favre's
rhetorical figure that "the Parisians will bury themselves beneath the
ruins of their town rather than surrender." The lull in the
"demonstrations" to urge the Government either to carry out this
programme, or to associate with themselves men of energy who are ready
to do so, will not last long; and when next Belleville comes to the
Hôtel de Ville, it will not be unarmed. The bourgeois and the working
man worship different gods, and have hardly two ideas in common. The
bourgeois believes in the Army of the Loire; believes that in
sacrificing the trade profits of a few months, and in catching a cold by
keeping guard occasionally for a night on the ramparts, he has done his
duty towards his country, and deserves the admiration of all future
ages. As for burying himself, beneath, the ruins of his shop, it is his
shop as much as his country that he is defending. He is gradually
wearying of the siege; the pleasure of strutting about in a uniform and
marching behind a drum hardly compensates for the pecuniary losses which
he is incurring. He feels that he is already a hero, and he longs to
repose upon his laurels. When Bazaine has capitulated, and when the
bubble of the Army of the Loire has burst, he will, if left to himself,
declare and actually believe that Paris has surpassed in heroism and
endurance Troy and Saragossa; and he will accept what is inevitable--a
capitulation. The working man, on the other hand, believes in no Army of
the Loire, troubles himself little about Bazaine, and has confidence in
himself alone. Far from disliking the siege, he delights in it. He lives
at free quarters, and he walks about with a gun, that occupation of all
others which is most pleasing to him. He at least is no humbug; he has
no desire to avoid danger, but rather courts it. He longs to form one in
a sortie, and he builds barricades, and looks forward with grim
satisfaction to the moment when he will risk his own life in defending
them, and blow up his landlord's house to arrest the advance of the
Prussians. What will be the upshot of this radical divergence of opinion
between the two principal classes which are cooped up together within
the walls of Paris, it is impossible to say. The working men have, as
yet, no leaders in whom they place confidence, and under whose guidance
they would consent to act collectively. It may be that this will prevent
them from giving effect to their views before the curtain drops; they
are strongly patriotic, and they are disinclined to compromise the
success of the defence by internal quarrels. Very possibly, therefore,
they will be deceived by promises on the part of the Government, and
assurances that Paris will fight it out to the last ditch, until the
moment to act has passed. As for the bourgeois and the Government, their
most powerful ally is the cry, "No division; let us all be united." They
are both, however, in a radically false position. They have called upon
the world to witness how a great capital can die rather than surrender;
and yet, if no external agency prevents the surrender, they have no
intention to fulfil their boast of dying. Any loophole for escape from,
the alternative in which they have thrust themselves they would welcome.
"Our provisions will last three months," they say; "during this time
something must happen to our advantage." "What?" I inquire. "The Army of
the Loire will advance, or Bazaine will get out of Metz, or the
Prussians will despair of success, or we shall be able to introduce
convoys of provisions." "But if none of these prophecies are
realised.--what then?" I have asked a hundred times, without ever
getting a clear answer to my question. By some strange process of
reasoning in what, as Lord Westbury would say, they are pleased to call
their minds, they appear to have arrived at the conviction that Paris
never will be taken, because they are unable to realise the possibility
of an event which they seem to consider is contrary to that law of
nature, which, has made her the capital and the mistress of the world. A
victorious army is at their gates; they do not dare even to make a
formidable sortie; there is no regular army in the field outside; their
provisions have a limit; they can only communicate with the rest of the
world by an occasional balloon; and yet they regard the idea of a
foreign occupation of Paris much as we do a French invasion of
England--a thing so improbable as to be barely possible.

Yesterday there were a few groups on the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville, but
they were rather curious spectators than "manifesters." At about two
o'clock the rappel was beaten in the Place Vendôme, and several
battalions of the National Guard of the quartier marched there and
broke up these groups. M. Jules Ferry's head then appeared from the
window, and he aired his eloquence in a speech congratulating the
friends of order on having rallied to the defence of the Government. It
is a very strange thing that no Frenchman, when in power, can understand
equal justice between his opponents and his supporters. The present
Government is made up of men who clamoured for a Municipal Council
during the Empire, and whose first step upon taking possession of the
Hôtel de Ville was to decree the immediate election of a "Commune."
Since then, yielding to the demands of their own supporters, they have
withdrawn this decree, and now, if I go unarmed upon the Place de
l'Hôtel de Ville and cry "Vive la Commune," I am arrested; whereas if
any battalion of the National Guard chooses, without orders, to go there
in arms and cry, "à bas la Commune," immediately it is congratulated for
its patriotism by some member of the Government.

Nothing new has passed at the front since yesterday. I learn from this
morning's papers, however, that Moltke is dead, that the Crown Prince is
dying of a fever, that Bismarck is anxious to negotiate, but is
prevented by the obstinacy of the King, that 300 Prussians from the
Polish provinces have come over to our side, and that the Bavarian and
Wurtemberg troops are in a state of incipient rebellion. "From the fact
that the Prussian outposts have withdrawn to a greater distance from the
forts," the _Electeur Libre_, tells me, "it is probable that the
Prussians despair of success, and in a few days will raise the siege."
Most of the newspapers make merry over the faults in grammar in a letter
which has been discovered and published from the Empress to the Emperor,
although I doubt if there is one Frenchman in the world who could write
Spanish as well as the Empress does French.


_Evening._

It appears that yesterday the cheques signed by M. Flourens were not
recognised by the Etat Major of his "secteur." On this he declared that
he would beat the "generale" in Belleville and march on the Hôtel de
Ville. The quarrel was, however, patched up--no disturbance occurred.
For some reason or other M. Flourens, until he gave in his resignation,
commanded five battalions of the National Guard; he has been told that
he can be re-elected to the command of any one of them, but that he
cannot be allowed to be at the head of more than one. This man is an
enthusiast, and, I am told, not quite right in his head. In personal
appearance he is a good-looking gentlemanly fellow. As long as
Belleville acts under his leadership there is no great fear that any
danger will arise, because his own men distrust, not his good faith, but
his sense.

Gambetta has sent a despatch from Montdidier, by a pigeon. He says,
"Everywhere the people are rising; the Government of the National
Defence is universally acclaimed."

The Papal Nuncio is going to try to get through on Thursday. He says he
is anxious about the Pope--no wonder.


_October 12th._

"What is truth?" said jesting Pilate, and would not wait for an answer;
the Parisians of 1870 are as indifferent about truth as this unjust
Roman judge was. It is strange that their own want of veracity does not
lead them to doubt that of others; they are alike credulous and
mendacious. A man comes into a café, he relates every detail of an
action in which he says he was e

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