Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris Part 11

_December 3rd._

I wrote to you in a great hurry last night in order to catch a balloon which was to have gone this morning, but whose departure has been deferred as the wind was not favourable. I am now able to give some more accurate details respecting the affair of Friday, as I have had an opportunity of talking with several of the officers who were on the staffs of the different generals engaged. After the Prussians at 4 A.M.

had surprised the whole of the French line from Brie to Champigny, they pushed forward a heavy column between, the latter place and the Marne, thus outflanking their opponents. The column advanced about half-way up the horse-shoe formed by the bend in the river, and would have got as far as the bridges at Joinville, had not General Fave opened fire upon it from a small redoubt which he had built in advance of Joinville, with forty field guns which he rapidly placed in position. Reinforcements were then brought up under General Blanchard, and the column was at length forced back, fighting hard to Champigny. To-day most of the troops in the horse-shoe crossed over the river, and are now either in the wood of Vincennes or in other portions of the line between the forts and the enceinte. General Trochu has returned to the Louvre, and General Ducrot, I hear, yesterday evening expressed his regret that he had published that foolish manifesto, in which he declared that if he did not conquer he would die; for, not having done either, he felt the awkwardness of re-entering the city. Both Ducrot and Trochu freely exposed themselves; the latter received a slight wound in the back of the head from a piece of a sh.e.l.l which struck him. All the officers were obliged to keep well in advance of their soldiers in order to encourage them. The brunt of the fighting fell to the Line; the Mobiles, as a rule, only behaved tolerably well; the Vendeans, of whom much was expected, badly. The only battalion of the National Guards engaged was that from Belleville, and it very speedily fell back. I have always had my doubts about the valour of the Parisians. I found it difficult to believe in men who hunt for pretexts to avoid military service--who are so very fond of marching behind drums and vivandieres inside a town, and who, in some way or other, manage either to avoid going out of it, or when forced out, avoid all danger.

The population is in profound ignorance of the real state of affairs outside. It still believes that the Prussian lines have been forced, and that the siege will be over in a few days. I presume that Trochu will make a second sortie in force. Unless, however, his operations are powerfully aided by the armies of the provinces, it is difficult to believe that the result will be anything beyond a useless sacrifice of life. On Friday, it is estimated that our loss amounted to 4,500 wounded, and 600 killed. That of the Prussians must have been very heavy, to judge from the number of dead bodies that were lying about in the fields and woods.

The ambulances were ordered out this morning, and at seven o'clock some 300 victims rendezvoused with the carriages on the Quai, near the Place de la Concorde. After freezing there for about two hours, it was suggested that a messenger should be sent to General Trochu, to ask him whether we were really wanted. The reply was that no attack would be made to-day, and consequently we went off home to thaw. If wars really must be made, I do hope that we shall fall back upon the old system of carrying on military operations in summer. When the thermometer is below zero, I feel like Bob Acres--all my valour oozing out at my fingers'

ends. The doctors tell me that many slight wounds have gangrened owing to the cold. When a battle lasts until evening the ma.s.s of the wounded cannot be picked up until the next morning, and their sufferings during the night must be terrible. I saw several poor fellows picked up who appeared literally frozen.

The _Journal Officiel_ of to-day contains a letter from Monseigneur Bauer, protesting against the Prussians having shot at him when he went forward with a flag of truce and a trompette. The fact is vouched for by, among others, a journalist who remained during the night of Friday outside the walls. I can easily believe it, for the Prussians are not a chivalrous enemy. They are perpetually firing on ambulances: and, when it suits their own purposes, raising the white flag. If, indeed, one-tenth part of the stories which I hear of their treacheries be true, they ought to be exterminated like wolves. This Monseigneur Bauer is a character. He began life as a German Jew, and he is now a Frenchman and a Christian Bishop. During the Empire he was chaplain to the court, and confessor of the Empress. He is now chaplain of the Ambulances de la Presse, and has under his orders 800 "Freres Chretiens," who dress as priests, but are not in holy orders. Both he and they display the greatest courage. The Freres Chretiens are the foremost in picking up the wounded; going forward long before the firing is over. The Bishop prances about on his horse, dressed in a soutane and long boots, the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour on his breast, a golden crucifix hanging from his neck, and a huge episcopal ring on his finger, outside his gloves. Sometimes he appears in a red cloak, which, I presume, is a part of his sacerdotal gear. I am told, by those who know him, that "Monseigneur" is a consummate humbug, but he is very popular with the soldiers, as he talks to them in their own language, and there certainly is no humbug about his pluck. He is as steady under fire as if he were in a pulpit. He was by the side of Ducrot when the general's horse was killed under him.

The events of the past week prove that General Trochu's sole available force for resisting the enemy consists of the Line and the Mobiles. As for the population of Paris, they are more than useless. They eat up the provisions; they are endowed with a mixture of obstinacy and conceit, which will very probably enable them to endure considerable hardships rather than surrender; fight, however, they will not, although I am convinced that, to the end of their lives, they will boast of their heroic valour, and in the legend which will pa.s.s muster as history of the siege of Paris, our grandchildren will be taught that in 1870, when the French troops were all prisoners of war, the citizens of the French capital "covered themselves with honour," and for nearly three months held their town against the furious onslaughts of the victorious German armies. The poor soldiers and the Mobiles, who do all the real fighting, will experience the eternal truth of Virgil's _Sic vos non vobis_. But there is no use being angry at what will happen in one hundred years, for what does it signify to any who are now alive either in Paris or out of Paris?

_December 5th._

A proclamation has been issued by the Government, announcing that the troops have retired across the Marne, as the enemy has had time to collect such a force in front of Villiers and Champigny, that further efforts in this direction would be sterile. "The loss of the enemy during the glorious days of the 29th and 30th November, and December 2nd, has been so great that, struck down in its pride of power, it has allowed an army which it attacked the day before, to cross a river under its eyes, and in the light of day," continues this manifesto. Now, considering that the crossing took place at Joinville, and that the river at that point is under the fire of three forts and two redoubts, it appears to me that General Trochu might as well take credit to himself for crossing the Seine opposite the Place de la Concorde. I will say for the Government of to-day, that in any attempt to beat its predecessor in mendacity it had a hard task, but it has worked with a will, and completely succeeded. The military attaches who are still here, consider that the French loss during the three days cannot be less than 10,000 in killed and wounded. It is very unlikely that the Government will admit a loss of above 2,000 or 3,000. That of the Prussians is, we are told, far larger than ours. Without accepting this a.s.sertion as gospel, it must have been very heavy. A friend of mine himself counted 500 dead bodies in one wood. We have a certain number of prisoners. With respect to the wounded Germans in our hands, I find that there are about 30 in my hotel, as against above 400 French. In the American ambulance, out of 130 only two are Germans. Colonel Claremont, who had put off his departure, witnessed the fight in the redoubt which General Fave had built opposite Joinville. He was nearly killed several times by bombs from La Faisanderie, which was behind him, bursting short.

The Parisians are somewhat taken aback at the victory resulting in a retreat. They appear, however, to be as ignorant of the environs of their own capital as they are of foreign countries, and they never condescend to consult a map. While some of them shake their heads in despair of success, the majority are under the impression that Villiers and Champigny are far beyond the range of the guns of our forts, and that as the ground near them is still occupied by our troops, something which will lead to the speedy retreat of the Prussians has been done. We are two millions, they say; we will all die rather than surrender: and they appear to be under the impression that if they only say this often enough, Paris never will be taken. The Ultra-Democrats in the clubs have a new theory to account for their refusal to fight. "We are," observed an orator, a few nights ago, "the children of Paris, she has need of us; can we leave her at such a moment?" Some of these heroes, indeed, a.s.sert that the best plan would be to allow the Prussians to enter and then convert them to the doctrines of Republicanism. I think it was St.

Augustine who did not despair of the devil eventually turning over a new leaf; in the same way I heard an ardent patriot express the hope of being able to convert "William" himself to the creed of the Universal Republic. At the club where these fraternal sentiments were expressed there is a lady who sits on the platform. When anyone makes what she considers a good speech she embraces him on both cheeks. She is by no means ugly, and I had serious thoughts of making a few observations myself in view of the reward. That bashfulness, however, which has been my bane through life, prevented me. The lady occasionally speaks herself, and is fond of giving her own experiences. "I was on my way to this club," she said, "the other evening, when I observed a man following me. 'What dost thou want?' I asked, sternly eyeing him. 'I love you,' replied the vile aristocrat. 'I am the wife of a citizen,' I answered, 'and the mother of the Gracchi.' The wretch sneaked away, abashed to seek other prey. If he addresses himself to some princess or d.u.c.h.ess he will probably find a victim." The loudest applause greeted this "experience," and several very unclean-looking patriots rushed forward to embrace the mother of the Gracchi, in order to show her how highly they appreciated her n.o.ble conduct.

The newspapers are already beginning to dread that possibly some doubts may be cast upon the heroism of everyone during the last week. The _Figaro_ contains the following:--"No matter what certain correspondents--better known than they suppose--may say, and although they are preparing to infect foreign countries with their correspondence, our Bretons did not run away on Thursday. It is true that when they saw the Saxons emerging from their holes and shouting hurrah, our Bretons were a little troubled by this abrupt and savage joke, but"--then follows the statement of several of the heroes themselves that they fought like lions. The fact is, as I have already stated in my letter of yesterday, the Mobiles fought only tolerably well, and some of their battalions rather the reverse of well. The Line, for young troops, behaved very fairly; and the reckless courage of the officers, both of the Line and Mobile, was above all praise. It is, however, a military axiom that when an undue proportion of officers are killed in a battle their troops have hung back. Good soldiers cannot be made in two months, and it is absurd to expect that raw lads, who were taken from the plough a few weeks ago, would fight as well as trained and hardened warriors. This however, we are called upon, in defiance of facts, to believe, because "the soil of France produces soldiers."

It is difficult to guess what will happen now. The generals must be aware that unless one of the armies of the provinces takes the Prussians in the rear, a fresh sortie will only result in a fresh butchery; but then, on the other hand, the Parisians will not be satisfied until all the Line and the Mobiles outside the walls have been killed, in order that it may be said that the resistance of Paris was heroic. If I were Trochu, I should organize a sortie exclusively of National Guards, in order to show these gentry what a very different thing real fighting is to parading about the streets of the capital and wearing a uniform.

The following is a list of the prices of "luxuries:"--Terrines of chicken, 16f; of rabbit, 13f; a fowl, 26f; a rabbit, 18f; a turkey, 60f; a goose, 45f; one cauliflower, 3f; one cabbage, 4f; dog is 2f. a lb.; a cat skinned costs 5f.; a rat, 1f., if fat from the drains, 1f. 50c.

Almost all the animals in the Jardin d'Acclimatation have been eaten.

They have averaged about 7f. a lb. Kangaroo, however, has been sold for 12f. the lb. Yesterday I dined with the correspondent of a London paper.

He had managed to get a large piece of m.u.f.flon, an animal which is, I believe, only found in Corsica. I can only describe it by saying that it tasted of m.u.f.flon, and nothing else. Without being absolutely bad, I do not think that I shall take up my residence in Corsica, in order habitually to feed upon it.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 1: A balloon letter, dated November 30, giving, it is presumed, an account of the military operations on that day, suffered so much _in transitu_, that it is illegible.]

CHAPTER XIII.

_December 6th._

I am by no means certain that I should be a hero at the Equator, but I am fully convinced that I should be an abject coward at the North Pole.

Three mornings ago I stood for two hours by the Ambulances de la Presse, and my teeth have not ceased to chatter ever since. I pity the unfortunate fellows who had to keep watch all night on the plateau of Villiers more than those who were put out of their misery the day before. When it is warm weather, one views with a comparative resignation the Prussian batteries, and one has a sort of fanatical belief that the bombs will not burst within striking distance; when the thermometer is below zero, one imagines that every cannon within four miles is pointed at one's head. I do not know how it may be with others, but on me cold has a most unheroic effect. My legs become as wilful as those of Mrs. Dombey's t.i.tled relative, and it is only by the strongest effort of mind over matter that I can prevent them carrying me beyond the reach of cannon-b.a.l.l.s, bullets, and sh.e.l.ls. I have a horrible vision of myself lying all night with a broken leg in a ditch, gradually freezing. On a warm summer's day I do not think very much of the courage of those who fight well; on a cold winter's day, however, any man who does not run away and take shelter by a fire deserves well of his country.

We are by no means a very happy family. General Ducrot and General Blanchard have "had words." The latter, in the course of the dispute, said to the former, "If your sword were as long as your tongue, you would be a wonderful warrior indeed." Ducrot and Trochu are the literary Generals; Vinoy and Blanchard the fighting Generals. It is reported also that General Fave is to be superseded, though why I cannot learn, as his redoubt may be said to have saved the army from a greater disaster.

While, however, the military men differ among themselves, they are all agreed in abusing the National Guards, whom they irreverently call "Les Charcutiers"--the pork butchers. When La Gare aux Boeufs was carried by Admiral Pothuan and his sailors, two battalions of these heroes followed in the rear. The Admiral and the sailors were somewhat astonished to find that in the order of the day hardly anything was said of those who really did all the fighting, but that the "pork butchers" were lauded to the skies. General Trochu on this wrote a letter to the Admiral, informing him that it was necessary for political reasons to encourage the National Guard. Whilst the battle was going on at Villiers and Champigny, the marching battalions of the National Guard were drawn up almost out of shot. An order came to form them into line. Their commander, General Clement Thomas, replied that this would be impossible, as they would imagine that they were about to be taken into action. Notwithstanding this, General Trochu congratulates them upon the "moral support" which they afforded him. It is not surprising that the real soldiers should feel hurt at this system of humbug. They declare that at the next sortie they will force the Parisians to fight by putting them in front, and firing on them if they attempt to run away.

It must be remembered that these fighting battalions consist of young unmarried men, and if Paris is to be defended, there is no reason why they should not be exposed to danger. The inhabitants of this city seem to consider themselves a sacred race; they clamour for sorties, vow to die for their country, and then wish to do it by procuration. I am utterly disgusted with the difference between their words and their deeds. The Mobiles and the Line have as yet done all the righting, and yet, to read the Paris newspapers, one would suppose that the National Guards, who have kept well out of all danger, have "covered themselves with glory." Since the siege commenced they have done nothing but swagger about in uniforms, and go in turns on the ramparts. They have learnt to knock a penny off a cork at a distance of ten yards, and they have carried on a very successful campaign against the sparrows.

A fresh order was issued yesterday, suppressing all pa.s.ses until further notice. I have a pa.s.s _en regle_ from General Vinoy; but even with this, the last time I went out of the town I was turned back at two gates before I got through at the third. A good deal of discussion has taken place among the foreign correspondents respecting the fairness of going out with an ambulance under guise of the Geneva flag. I see myself no objection to it, provided the correspondent really does make himself useful in picking up the wounded. In the Prussian camp a correspondent has a recognised position; here it is different, and he must use all legitimate means to obtain intelligence of what is pa.s.sing. My pa.s.s, for instance, does not describe me as a correspondent, but as an Englishman accredited by the British Emba.s.sy. At the commencement of the siege I begged Mr. Wodehouse to give me a letter of introduction to M. Jules Ferry, one of the members of the Government. This I did not deliver, but at General Vinoy's headquarters I showed it to prove that I was not a Prussian spy, but that I was known by my natural guardian. An aide-de-camp then gave me a pa.s.s, and, not knowing precisely what to call me, described me as "accredited by the British Emba.s.sy." I move about, therefore, as a mysterious being--perhaps an Amba.s.sador, perhaps an Amba.s.sador's valet. A friend of mine, who is an authority with the Ambulance de la Presse, and who owns a carriage, has promised to call for me when next the ambulances are sent for; but, as I have already said, all my energy oozes out of me when the thermometer is below zero; and unless the next battle is fought on a warm day, I shall not witness it. As a matter of fact, unless one is riding with the staff of the general who commands, one cannot form an idea of what is going on by hanging about, and it is a horrible sight to look with an opera-gla.s.s at men and horses being ma.s.sacred. When knights charged each other with lances there was a certain chivalry in war; but there is nothing either n.o.ble or inspiriting in watching a quant.i.ty of unfortunate Breton peasants, who cannot even speak French, and an equal number of Berlin grocers, who probably ask for nothing better than to be back in their shops, destroying each other at a distance of two or three miles with b.a.l.l.s of lead and iron, many of them filled with explosive materials. I confess that I pity the horses almost as much as the men. It seems a monstrous thing that in order that the Alsacians should be forced into becoming subjects of King William of Prussia, an omnibus horse, who has honestly done his work in the streets of Paris, should be taken outside the walls of the town to have his head blown off or to stump about on three legs until he dies of cold and hunger. Horses have a way when they are wounded of making desperate efforts to get up, and then letting their heads fall with a bang on the soil which is very horrible to witness.

Everybody in authority and out of it seems to have a different opinion as to when the siege will end. I cannot think that when a town with two million inhabitants is reduced to such expedients as this is now, it can hold out very long. The rations, consisting alternately of horse and salt fish, are still distributed, but they are hardly sufficient to keep body and soul together. Unless we make up our minds to kill our artillery horses, we shall soon come to the end of our supply. The rumour to-day is that the Prussians have evacuated Versailles, and that Frederick Charles has been beaten in a battle on the Loire, but I cannot say that I attach great credit to either story. No pigeon has arrived for the last three days, owing, it is supposed, to the cold; and until we know for certain what d'Aurelles de Paladine is doing, we are unable to form an accurate opinion of the chances of the siege being raised.

All that can be said is that, left to ourselves, we shall not be able to break through the lines of investment, and that when we have eaten up all our food, we shall have to capitulate.

_December 7th._

When this war commenced the Parisians believed in the bulletins which their own Government issued, because they thought it only natural that their arms should be successful, and they disbelieved in any foreign newspaper which ventured to contest their victories. At present they are incredulous alike of everything that comes from friend and foe.

Nine-tenths of them are under the impression that Count Moltke, in announcing the defeat of the Army of the Loire, is guilty of a deliberate falsehood; the other tenth supposes that he has grossly exaggerated a slight mishap, and that the occupation of Orleans only proves that Orleans was not defended by a large body of troops. It takes about three days for any information which is not in accordance with the wishes of this extraordinary population to obtain credit, no matter what amount of evidence there may be to prove its truth. If really the Army of the Loire has been put _hors de combat_, sooner or later the fact will be admitted; then, although we shall still pin our faith to Keratry or Bourbaki, the disaster will no doubt tend to produce a certain degree of discouragement, more particularly as it is coupled with the retreat of Ducrot's forces from the south bank of the Marne. French politicians will insist upon dressing up their facts in order to meet the requirements of the moment, and they never seem to consider that so soon as the real state of things comes out there must be an inevitable reaction, which will be far more depressing than if the truth had been fairly told at once. I hear that when Count Moltke's letter arrived, two of the members of the Government of National Defence were inclined to accept his offer to verify what had occurred on the Loire, but that General Trochu stated that he intended to resist until the last, and that consequently, whether Orleans had fallen, or not, was a matter of no importance. If Trochu really thinks that a further resistance and a further sacrifice of life will materially advance the interests of his country, of course he is right to hold out; but if, disregarding facts, he simply wishes to oblige the Prussians to continue the siege, for no purpose except to prove his own tenacity, he cannot be regarded either as a good patriot or a sensible man. When the vote on the Plebiscite was taken, his majority consisted of "Ouis" which were given because it was supposed that he was about to treat. Since then we have gone on from day to day vaguely hoping that either the Neutral Powers or the armies of the provinces would get us out of the mess in which we are, or, even if these failed us, that by a sortie the town would be revictualled. At present none believe in the intervention of the Neutrals; few in the success of a sortie; but all still cling, as drowning men do to a straw, to the armies of the provinces. To destroy this belief it will be necessary for the Prussians to obtain a substantial advantage not only at Orleans, but over the armies of Keratry and Bourbaki. When once we find that we are entirely left to our own resources, and that it is impossible for us to penetrate the lines of investment, I cannot help thinking that we shall yield to the force of circ.u.mstances. At present all the newspapers are for fighting on as long as we have a crust, regardless of the consequences; but then, as a rule, a besieged town is never so near surrendering as when it threatens to hang the first man who speaks of surrender. The majority would even now take a practical view of matters if they dared, but Trochu is their man, and Trochu, much to their secret sorrow, refuses to hear of a capitulation.

Some German officers who are prisoners on parole have been insulted in a restaurant, and for their own safety it has been found necessary to confine them in La Roquette. I am not surprised at this. French officers are, of course, incapable of this contemptible conduct, and it must be owned that the majority of the Parisians have not, under the trying circ.u.mstances in which they find themselves, lost that courtesy which is one of the peculiar attributes of the nation. But there is a sc.u.m, who lived from hand to mouth during the Empire, and which infests the restaurants and the public places. Some of them wear the uniform of the National Guard; others have attached themselves to the ambulances; and all take very good care not to risk their precious lives. I was peaceably dining last night in a restaurant; a friend with whom I had been talking English had left me, and I found myself alone with four of these worthies, who were dining at a table near me. For my especial benefit they informed each other that all strangers here were outlaws from their own country, and that the Americans and Italians who have established ambulances were in all probability Prussian spies. As I took no notice of these startling generalities, one of them turned to me and said, "You may look at me, sir, but I a.s.sert before you that Dr. Evans, the ex-dentist of the Emperor, was a spy." I quietly remarked, that not having the honour to know Dr. Evans, and being myself an Englishman, whilst the Doctor is an American, I was not responsible for him. "You are a Greek," observed another; "I heard you talk Greek just now." I mildly suggested that his knowledge of foreign tongues was, perhaps, somewhat limited. "Well, if you are not a Greek," he said, "I saw you the other morning near the Ambulance of the Press, to which I belong, and so you must be a spy." "If you are an Englishman," cried his friend, "why do you not go back to your own country, and fight Russia?" I replied that the idea was an excellent one, but that it might, perhaps, be difficult to pa.s.s through the Prussian lines. "The English Amba.s.sador is a friend of mine, and he will give you a pa.s.s at my request,"

answered the gentleman who had mistaken English for Greek. I thanked him, and a.s.sured him that I should esteem it a favour if he would obtain from his friend Lord Lyons this pa.s.s for me. He said he would do so, as it would be well to rid Paris of such vermin as myself and my countrymen. He has not yet, however, fulfilled his promise. Scenes such as these are of frequent occurrence at restaurants; bully and coward are generally synonymous terms; any scamp may insult a foreigner now with perfect impunity, for if the foreigner replies he has only to denounce him as a spy, when a crowd will a.s.semble, and either set on him or bear him off to prison. While, as I have already said, nothing can be more courteous than the conduct of French officers, French gentlemen, and, unless they are excited, the French poorer cla.s.ses, nothing can be more insolent than that of the third-cla.s.s dandies who reserve their valour for the interior of the town, or who, if ever they venture outside of its fortifications, take care to skulk beneath the protection of the cross of Geneva.

The _Journal Officiel_ contains a decree breaking up the battalion of Belleville. These warriors, says their own Commander, ran away in the presence of the enemy, refused the next day to go to the front, and commenced fighting with their neighbours from La Villette. M. Gustave Flourens, who is the hero of these men of war, and who, although exercising no official rank in the battalion, insisted upon their accepting him as their chief, is to be brought before a Council of War.

My next-door neighbour, Franchetti, died yesterday, and was buried to-day. He was a fine, handsome young man, well off, happily married, and, as the commander of the Eclaireurs of the Seine, has done good service during the siege. As he was an Israelite, he was followed to the grave by the Rothschilds and many other of his co-religionists.

_December 8th._

M. de Sarcey, in the _Temps_ of to-day, enters into a lengthy argument to prove that the Parisians are heroic. "Heroism is positive and negative," he says, "and we have, for the sake of our country, deprived ourselves during several months of the power to make money, and during this time we have existed without many of the comforts to which we are accustomed." Now, I by no means wish to undervalue the sacrifices of the Parisians, but heroism is not the word for them. So long as there are enough provisions in the town to enable every one to live without feeling the pangs of hunger, they have no opportunity to show negative heroism. So long as the town is not a.s.saulted, and they do not take part in sorties, they cannot be said to be actively heroic. A blockade such as the Prussians have inst.i.tuted round Paris, is no doubt most disagreeable to its inhabitants. In submitting to it, undoubtedly they show their patriotism and their power of pa.s.sive endurance. Heroism is, however, something more than either patriotism or endurance--it is an exceptional quality which is rarely found in this world. If the Parisians possessed it, I should admire them; because they do not, no one has a right to blame them.

The newspapers have now proved to their own complete satisfaction that Count Moltke's a.s.sertion respecting the defeat of the Army of the Loire can only refer to its rearguard, and although no news from without has been received for several days, they insist that the greater portion of this army has effected its junction with that of Bourbaki. A French journalist, even when he is not obliged to do so, generally invents his facts, and then reasons upon them with wonderful ingenuity. I do not know whether the Paris journals get to you through the Prussian lines; if they do not, you have little idea how much excellent advice you lose.

One would think that just at present a Parisian would do well to keep his breath to cool his own porridge; such, however, is not his opinion.

He thinks that he has a mission to guide and instruct the world, and this mission he manfully fulfils in defiance of Prussians and Prussian cannon. It is true that he knows rather less of foreign countries than an intelligent j.a.panese Daimio may be supposed to know of Tipperary, but by some curious law of nature, the less he knows of a subject the more strongly does he feel impelled to write about it. I read a very clever article this morning, pointing out that, if we are not on our guard, our empire in India will come to an end by a Russian fleet attacking it from the Caspian Sea; and when one thinks how very easy it would have been for the author not to write about the Caspian Sea, one is at once surprised and grateful to him for having called our attention to the danger which menaces us in that quarter of the globe.

M. Gustave Flourens has been arrested and is now in prison. The clubs of the Ultras are very indignant at the Government having accused the braves of Belleville of cowardice. They feel convinced that the "Jesuit"

Trochu must have introduced some _mouchards_ into the band of heroes, who received orders to run away, in order to discredit the whole battalion. I was in the "Club de la Delivrance" this evening. It holds its sittings in the Salle Valentino--a species of Argyle Rooms in normal times. I held up my hand in favour of a resolution to call upon the Government to inscribe upon marble tablets the names of the National Guards who have died in the defence of Paris. The resolution was carried unanimously. No National Guard has, indeed, yet been good enough to die; but of course this fact was regarded as irrelevant. The next resolution was that the concubines of patriots should enjoy the same right to rations as legitimate wives. As the Club prides itself upon the stern severity of its morals, this resolution was not carried. An orator then proposed that all strangers should be banished from France. He was so exceedingly lengthy that I did not wait until the end of his speech; I am, therefore, unable to say whether his proposal was carried. The Club de la Delivrance is by far the most reputable public a.s.sembly in Paris.

Those who take part in its proceedings are intensely respectable, and as intensely dull and prosy. The suppression of gas has been a heavy blow to the clubs. The Parisians like gas as much as lazzaroni like sunshine.

The grandest bursts of patriotic eloquence find no response from an audience who listen to them beneath half-a-dozen petroleum lamps. It is somewhat singular, but it is not the less certain, that the effect of a speech depends very much upon the amount of light in the room in which it is delivered. I remember once I went down to a.s.sist a friend of mine in an electioneering campaign in a small borough. His opponent was a most worthy and estimable squire, who resided in the neighbourhood. It was, of course, my business to prove that he was a despicable knave and a drivelling idiot. This I was engaged in doing at a public meeting in the town-hall. The Philippics of Demosthenes were milk and water in comparison with my denunciations--when just at the critical moment--as I was carrying conviction into the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the stolid Britons who were listening to me, the gas flickered and went out. Three candles were brought in. I recommenced my thunder; but it was of no use. The candles utterly destroyed its effect, and two days afterwards the squire became an M.P., and still is a silent ornament of St. Stephen's.

I trust that England never will be invaded. But if it is, we shall do well to profit by the experience of what is occurring here. There must be no English force, half citizen half soldier. All who take part in the national defence must submit to the strict discipline of soldiers. A vast amount of money has been laid out in equipping the National Guard.

Their pay alone amounts to above 20,000fr. per diem, and, as far as the defence of Paris is concerned, they might as well have remained quietly by their own firesides. There are, no doubt, brave men among them, but as their battalions insist upon being regarded as citizens even when under arms, they have no discipline, and are little better than an armed mob. The following extract from an article in the last number of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ gives some interesting details respecting their habits when on duty behind that most useless of all works of defence, the line of the Paris fortifications:--"On the arrival of a battalion, the chief of the post arranges the hours during which each man is to be on active duty. After this, the men occupy themselves as they please.

Some play at interminable games of _bouchon_; others, notwithstanding orders to the contrary, turn their attention to ecarte and piquet; others gossip over the news of the day with the artillerymen, who are keeping guard by the side of their cannon. Some go away on leave, or disappear without leave; they make excursions beyond the ramparts, or shut themselves up in the billiard-room of some cafe. Many make during the course of the day frequent visits to the innumerable canteens, which succeed each other almost without interruption along the Rue des Ramparts. Here old women have lit a few sticks under a pot, and sell, for a penny the gla.s.s, a horrible brew called 'pet.i.t noir,' composed of sugar, eau de vie, and the grains of coffee, boiled up together. Behind there is a line of cook shops, the proprietors of which announce that they have been commissioned to provide food. These speculators offer for sale greasy soup, slices of horse, and every species of alcoholic drink.

Each company has, too, its cantiniere, and round her cart there is always a crowd. It seldom happens that more than one-half of the men of the battalion are sober. Fortunately, the cold of the night air sobers them. Between eight and nine in the evening there is a gathering in the tent. A circle is formed in it round a single candle, and whilst the flasks go round tale succeeds to song, and song to tale, until at length all fall asleep, and are only interrupted in their slumbers until morning by the corporal, who, once every hour, enters and calls out the names of those who are to go on the watch. The abuse of strong drink makes shameful ravages in our ranks, and is productive of serious disorder. Few nights pa.s.s without false alarms, without shots foolishly fired upon imaginary enemies, and without lamentable accidents. Every night there are disputes, which often degenerate into fights, and then in the morning, when explanations take place, these very explanations are an excuse for recommencing drinking. Rules, indeed, are not wanting to abate all this, but the misfortune is that they are never executed.

The indiscipline of the National Guard contrasts strangely with the patriotism of their words. Most of the insubordination may be ascribed to drunkenness, but the _mauvaise tenue_ which is so apparent in too many battalions is due also to many other causes. The primary organisation of the National Guard was ill-conceived and ill-executed, and when the enrolments had been made, and the battalions formed, day after day a fresh series of orders were promulgated, so diffuse, so obscure, and so contradictory, that the officers, despairing to make head or tail of them, gave up any attempt to enforce them."

The attempt at the last hour to form marching battalions out of these citizen soldiers, by obliging each sedentary battalion to furnish 150 men, has not been a very successful one. The marching battalions, it is true, have been formed, but they have not yet been engaged with the enemy; and it certainly is the opinion of military men that it will be advisable, for the credit of French arms, to "keep them in reserve"

during any future engagement which may take place. General Clement Thomas has issued a series of general orders, from the tenor of which it would appear that the system of subst.i.tutes has been largely practised in these battalions. I have myself no doubt of the fact. The fault, however, lies with the Government. When these battalions were formed, the respective categories of unmarried and married men between 25 and 35, and between 35 and 45, were only to be drawn upon in case a sufficient number of volunteers were not forthcoming. It became, consequently, the interest of the men in these categories to encourage volunteering, and this was done on a large and liberal scale. The Government, if it wanted men, should have called to arms all between 25 and 35, and have allowed no exemptions. These new levies should have been subjected to the same discipline as the Line and the Mobiles. It must now accept the consequences of not having ventured to take this step. For all operations beyond the enceinte General Trochu's force consists of the Line and the Mobiles. All that he can expect from the Parisians is a "moral support."

_December 9th._

Nothing new. If the Government has received any news from without, it carefully conceals it. A peasant, the newspapers say, has made his way through the Prussian lines, and has brought the information that the armies of the Loire and of Bourbaki are close to Fontainebleau. The cry is still that we will resist to the last, and for the moment every one seems to have forgotten that in a few weeks our provisions will all have been consumed. If we wait to treat until our last crust has been eaten, the pinch will come after the capitulation; for with the railroads and the high roads broken up, and the surrounding country devastated, a fortnight at least must elapse before supplies, in any quant.i.ty, can be thrown into the town.

I hear that the Prussian officers who were (says the _Journal Officiel_) insulted in a cafe, have been exchanged. A friend of mine, an ex-French diplomatist, was present when the scene occurred, and he tells me that the officers, who were all young men, were, to say the least of it, exceedingly indiscreet. Instead of eating their dinner quietly, they indulged in a good deal of loud, and by no means wise conversation, and their remarks were calculated to offend those Frenchmen who heard them.