Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris Part 17

The Prussians are making diligent use of the armistice to complete their engineering work round Paris, and they appear to consider it possible that they may yet have trouble with the city. If this be their opinion I can only say that they are badly served by their spies. The resistance _a outrance_ men in Paris, who never did anything but talk, will very possibly still threaten to continue the struggle; but they will not fight themselves, and most a.s.suredly they will not find others to fight for them. If the preliminaries of peace be signed at Bordeaux, Paris will not protest; if they are rejected, Paris will not expose itself to certain destruction by any attempt at further resistance, but will capitulate, not as the capital of France, but as a besieged French town.

General Vinoy is absolute master of the situation; he is a calm, sensible man, and will listen to no nonsense either from the "patriots,"

or his predecessors, or from Gambetta. From the tone of the decree of the latter of the 3rd instant, he seems to be under the impression that he is still the idol of the Parisians. Never did a man labour under so complete a delusion. Before by a lucky speech he was pitchforked into the Corps Legislatif, he was a briefless lawyer, who used to talk very loudly and with vast emphasis at the Cafe de Madrid. He is now regarded as a pothouse politician, who ought never to have been allowed to get beyond the pothouse.

The Germans appear to be carrying on the war upon the same principles of international law which formed many thousand years ago the rule of conquest among the Israelites. They are spoiling the Egyptians with a vengeance. Even in this town, under the very eyes of the King, there is one street--the Boulevard de la Reine--in which almost every house is absolutely gutted. This, I hear, was done by the Bavarians. The German army may have many excellent qualities, but chivalry is not among them.

War with them is a business. When a nation is conquered, there is no sentimental pity for it, but as much is to be made out of it as possible. Like the elephants, which can crush a tree or pick up a needle, they conquer a province and they pick a pocket. As soon as a German is quartered in a room he sends for a box and some straw; carefully and methodically packs up the clock on the mantelpiece, and all the stray ornaments which he can lay his hands on; and then, with a tear glistening in his eye for his absent family, directs them either to his mother, his wife, or his lady-love. In vain the proprietor protests; the philosophical warrior utters the most n.o.ble sentiments respecting the horrors of war; ponderously explains that the French do not sufficiently appreciate the blessings of peace; and that he is one of the humble instruments whose mission it is to make these blessings clear to them. Then he rings the bell, and in a mild and gentle voice, orders his box of loot to be carried off by his military servant. Ben Butler and his New Englanders in New Orleans might have profitably taken lessons from these all-devouring locusts. Nothing escapes them. They have long rods which they thrust into the ground to see whether anything of value has been buried in the gardens. Sometimes they confiscate a house, and then re-sell it to the proprietor. Sometimes they cart off the furniture. Pianos they are very fond of. When they see one, they first sit down and play a few sentimental ditties, then they go away, requisition a cart, and minstrel and instrument disappear together. They are a singular mixture of bravery and meanness. No one can deny that they possess the former quality, but they are courageous without one spark of heroism. After fighting all day, they will rifle the corpses of their fallen foes of every article they can lay their hands on, and will return to their camp equally happy because they have won a great victory for Fatherland, and stolen a watch from one of the enemies of Fatherland. They have got now into such a habit of appropriating other people's property, that I confess I tremble when one of them fixes his cold gla.s.sy eye upon me. I see that he is meditating some new philosophical doctrine, which, some way or other, will transfer what is in my pocket into his. His mind, however, fortunately, works but slowly, and I am far away from him before he has elaborated to his own satisfaction a system of confiscation applicable to my watch or purse.[2]

PARIS, _February 7th_.

Rosinante has brought me back with much wheezing from Versailles to Paris; and with me he brought General Duff, U.S.A., and a leg of mutton.

At the gate of Versailles we were stopped by the sentinels, who told us that no meat could be allowed to leave the town. I protested; but in vain. Mild blue-eyed Teutons with porcelain pipes in their mouths bore off my mutton. The General protested too, but the protest of the citizen of the Free Republic fared like mine. I followed my mutton into the guard-house, where I found a youthful officer, who looked so pleasant that I determined to appeal to the heart which beat beneath his uniform.

I attacked the heart on its weak side. I explained to him that it was the fate of all to love. The warrior a.s.sented, and heaved a great sigh to his absent Gretchen. I pursued my advantage, and pa.s.sed from generalities to particulars. "My lady love," I said, "is in Paris. Long have I sighed in vain. I am taking her now a leg of mutton. On this leg hang all my hopes of bliss. If I present myself to her with this token of my affection, she may yield to my suit. Oh, full-of-feeling, loved-of-beauteous-women, German warrior, can you refuse me?" He "gazed on the joint that caused his shame; gazed and looked, then looked again." The battle was won; the vanquished victor stalked forth, forgetting the soldier in the man, and gave order that the General, the Englishman, and the leg of mutton should be allowed to go forth in peace. Rosinante toiled along towards Paris; we pa.s.sed through St.

Cloud, now a heap of ruins, and we arrived at the Bridge of Neuilly.

Here our pa.s.ses were examined by a German official, who was explaining every moment to a French crowd in his native language that they could not be allowed to pa.s.s into Paris without permits. The crowd was mainly made up of women, who were carrying in bags, pocket handkerchiefs, and baskets of loaves, eggs, and b.u.t.ter to their beleaguered friends. "Is it not too bad of him that he will pretend not to understand French?" said an old lady to me. "He looks like a fiend," said another lady, looking up at the good-natured face of the stolid military gaoler. The contrast between the shrieking, gesticulating, excited French, and the calm, cool, indifferent air of the German, was a curious one. It was typical of that between the two races. Having reached Paris, I consigned poor old long Rosinante to his fate--the knackers, and, with my leg of mutton under my arm, walked down the Boulevard. I was mobbed, positively mobbed. "Sir," said one man, "allow me to smell it." With my usual generosity I did so. How I reached my hotel with my precious burthen in safety is a perfect mystery. N.B. The mutton was for a friend of mine; Gretchen was a pious fraud; all being fair in love and war.

In the quarter in which I live I find that the rations have neither been increased nor diminished. They still remain at 3-5ths lb. of bread, and 1-25th lb. of meat per diem. In some other districts a little beef has been distributed. Some flour has come in from Orleans, and it is expected that in the course of a few days the bread will cease to be made of the peas, potatoes, and oats which we now eat. In the restaurants, beef--real beef--is to be obtained for little more than three times its normal price. Fish, too, in considerable quant.i.ties has been introduced by some enterprising speculator. The two delegates, also, of the Lord Mayor's Relief Fund have arrived with provisions, &c.

This evening they are to telegraph to London for more. These gentlemen are somewhat at sea with respect to what is wanted, and by what means it is to be distributed. One of them did me the honour to consult me this afternoon on these two points. With respect to the first, I recommended him to take the advice of Mr. Herbert--to whose energy it is due that during the siege above one thousand English have not been starved--and of the Archbishop of Paris, who is a man of sterling benevolence, with a minimum of sectarianism. With respect to the latter, I recommended Liebig, milk, and bacon. The great point appears to me to be that the relief should be bestowed on the right persons. The women and children have been the greatest sufferers of late. The mortality is still very great among them; not because they are absolutely without food, for the rations are distributed to all; but because they are in want of something more strengthening than the rations. Coal is wanted here as much as food. The poorer cla.s.ses are without the means of cooking whatever meat they may obtain, and it is almost impossible for them, on account of the same reason, to make soup. If I might venture a suggestion to the charitable in England, it would be to send over a supply of fuel.

I had some conversation with a gentleman connected with the Government this evening respecting the political situation. He tells me that Arago, Pelletan, and Garnier Pages were delighted to leave Paris, and that it was only the absolute necessity of their being as soon as possible at Bordeaux, that induced General Vinoy to consent to their departure. As for Gambetta, he says, it is not probable that he has now many adherents in the provinces; and it is certain that he has very few here. When a patient is given up by the faculty a quack is called in; if the quack effects a cure he is lauded to the skies; if he fails, he is regarded as a _charlatan_, and this is now the case with M. Gambetta. My informant is of opinion that a large number of Ultra-Radicals will be elected in Paris; this will be because the Moderates are split up into small cliques, and each clique insists upon its own candidates being supported, whereas the _Internationale_ commands 60,000 votes, which will all be cast for the list adopted by the heads of that society, and because the National Guard are averse to all real work, and hope that the Ultras will force the National a.s.sembly to continue to pay them the 1f. 50c. which they now receive, for an indefinite period. Gambetta, in his desire to exclude from political power a numerous category of his fellow-citizens, has many imitators here. Some of the journals insist that not only the Bonapartists, but also the Legitimists and the Orleanists should be disfranchised. They consider that as a preliminary step to electing a National a.s.sembly to decide whether a Republic is henceforward to be the form of government of the country, it is desirable, as well as just, to oblige all candidates to swear that it shall be. The fact is, the French, no matter what their opinions may be, seem to have no idea of political questions being decided by a majority; or of a minority submitting to the fiat of this majority. Each citizen belongs to a party; to the creed of this party, either through conviction or personal motives, he adheres, and regards every one who ventures to entertain other views as a scoundrel, an idiot, or a traitor. I confess that I have always regarded a Republican form of government as the best, wherever it is possible. But in France it is not possible. The people are not sufficiently educated, and have not sufficient common sense for it. Were I a Frenchman a Republic would be my dream of the future; for the present I should be in favour of a Const.i.tutional Monarchy. A Republic would soon result in anarchy or in despotism; and without any great love for Kings of any kind, I prefer a Const.i.tutional Monarch to either Anarchy or a Caesar. One must take a practical view of things in this world, and not sacrifice what is good by a vain attempt to attain at once what is better.

Will the Prussians enter Paris? is the question which I have been asked by every Frenchman to whom I have mentioned that I have been at Versailles. This question overshadows every other; and I am fully convinced that this vain, silly population would rather that King William should double the indemnity which he demands from France than march with his troops down the Rue Rivoli. The fact that they have been conquered is not so bitter to the Parisians as the idea of that fact being brought home to them by the presence of their conquerors even for half-an-hour within the walls of the sacred city. I have no very great sympathy with the desire of the Prussians to march through Paris; and I have no great sympathy with the horror which is felt by the Parisians at their intention to do so. The Prussian flag waves over the forts, and consequently to all intents and purposes Paris has capitulated. A triumphal march along the main streets will not mend matters, nor mar matters. "Attila, without, stands before vanquished Paris, as the Cimbrian slave did before Marius. The sword drops from his hand; awed by the majesty of the past, he flees and dares not strike," is the way in which a newspaper I have just bought deals with the question. It is precisely this sort of nonsense which makes the Prussians determined that the Parisians shall drink the cup of humiliation to its last dregs.

I was told at Versailles that St. Cloud had been set on fire on the morning after the last sortie, and that although many houses were still burning when the armistice was signed, none had subsequently been either pillaged or burnt. This act of vandalism has greatly incensed the French, and I understand that the King of Prussia himself regrets it, and throws the blame of it on one of his generals, who acted without orders. A lady who was to-day at St. Cloud tells me that she found Germans eating in every room of her house. Both officers and men were very civil to her. They told her that she might take away anything that belonged to her, and helped to carry to her carriage some valuable china; which, by good luck, had not been smashed. With respect to the charge of looting private property, which is brought by the French against their invaders, no unprejudiced person can, after looking into the evidence, doubt that whilst in the German Army there are many officers, and even privates, who have done their best to prevent pillage, many articles of value have disappeared from houses which have been occupied by the German troops, and much wanton damage has been committed in them. I a.s.sert the fact, without raising the question whether or not these are the necessary consequences of war. It is absurd for the Germans to pretend that the French Francs-tireurs are the culprits and not they. Francs-tireurs were never in the Boulevard de la Reine at Versailles, and yet the houses in this street have been gutted of everything available.

I venture to repeat a question which I have already frequently asked--Where is the gentleman who enjoys an annual salary as British Consul at Paris? Why was he absent during the siege? Why is he absent now? Why is a banker, who has other matters to attend to, discharging his duties? I am a taxpayer and an elector; if "my member" does not obtain a reply to these queries from the official representative of the Foreign Office in the House of Commons, I give him fair notice that he will shake me by the hand, ask after my health, and affect a deep interest in my reply, in vain at the next general election; he will not have my vote.

The _Electeur Libre_, the journal of M. Picard, has put forth a species of political programme, or rather a political defence of the wing of the Government of National Defence to which that gentleman belongs. For a French politician to praise himself in his own organ, and to say under the editorial "we" that he intends to vote for himself, and that he has the greatest confidence in his own wisdom, is regarded here as nothing but natural.

PARIS, _February 9th._

"We have been conquered in the field, but we have gained a moral victory." What this phrase means I have not the remotest idea; but as it consoles those who utter it, they are quite right to do so. For the last two days long lines of cannon have issued from the city gates, and have been, without noise or parade, handed over to the Prussians at Issy and Sevran. Few are aware of what has taken place, or know that their surrender had been agreed to by M. Jules Favre. Representations having been made to Count Bismarck that 10,000 armed soldiers were insufficient for the maintenance of the peace of the capital, by an additional secret clause added to the armistice the number has been increased to 25,000.

The greatest ill-feeling exists between the Army and the National Guards in the most populous quarters. A general quartered in one of the outer faubourgs went yesterday to General Vinoy, and told him that if he and his men were to be subjected to insults whenever they showed themselves in the streets, he could not continue to be responsible for either his or their conduct. Most persons of sense appear to consider that the armistice was an error, and that the wiser policy would have been to have surrendered without conditions. M. Jules Favre is blamed for not having profited by the occasion, to disarm the National Guards. Many of their battalions, as long as they have arms, and receive pay for doing nothing, will be a standing danger to order. The sailors have been paid off; and the fears that were entertained of their getting drunk and uproarious have not been confirmed. They are peaceably and sentimentally spending their money with the "black-eyed Susans" of their affections.

The princ.i.p.al journalists are formally agitating the plan of a combined movement to urge the population to protest against the Prussian triumphal march through the city, by absence from the streets through which the invading army is to defile. Several are, however, opposed to any action, as they fear that their advice will not be followed.

Curiosity is one of the strongest pa.s.sions of the Parisians, and it will be almost impossible for them to keep away from the "sight." Even in Coventry one Peeping Tom was found, and here there are many Peeping Toms. Mr. Moore and Colonel Stuart Wortley, the delegates of the London Relief Fund, have handed over 5,000l. of provisions to the Mayors to be distributed. They could scarcely have found worse agents. The Mayors have proved themselves thoroughly inefficient administrators, and most of them are noisy, unpractical humbugs. Colonel Stuart Wortley and Mr.

Moore are very anxious to find means to approach what are called here _les pauvres honteux_; that is to say, persons who are in want of a.s.sistance, but who are ashamed to ask for it. From what they told me yesterday evening, they are going to obtain two or three names of well-known charitable persons in each arrondiss.e.m.e.nt, and ask them to make the distribution of the rest of their provisions in store here, and of those which are expected shortly to arrive. Many families from the villages in the neighbourhood of Paris have been driven within its walls by the invaders, and are utterly dest.i.tute. In the opinion of these gentlemen they are fitting objects for charity. The fact is, the difficulty is not so much to find people in want of relief, but to find relief for the thousands who require it. Ten, twenty, or thirty thousand pounds are a mere drop in the ocean, so wide spread is the distress. "I have committed many sins," said a Bishop of the Church of England, "but when I appear before my Maker, and say that I never gave to one single beggar in the streets they will be forgiven." There are many persons in England who, like this prelate, are afraid to give to beggars, lest their charity should be ill applied. No money, no food, no clothes, and no fuel, if distributed with ordinary discretion, can be misapplied at present in Paris. The French complain that all they ever get from England is good advice and sterile sympathy. Now is the moment for us to prove to them that, if we were not prepared to go to war in order to protect them from the consequences of their own folly, we pity them in their distress; and that our pity means something more than words and phrases which feed no one, clothe no one, and warm no one.

The Prussian authorities appear to be deliberately setting to work to render the armistice as unpleasant to the Parisians as possible, in order to force them to consent to no matter what terms of peace in order to get rid of them; and I must congratulate them upon the success of their efforts. They refuse now to accept pa.s.ses signed by the Prefect of the Police, and only recognise those bearing the name of General Valdan, the chief of the Staff. To-morrow very likely they will require some fresh signature. Whenever a French railroad company advertises the departure of a train at a particular hour, comes an order from the Prussians to alter that hour. Every Frenchman who quits Paris is subjected to a hundred small, teasing vexations from these military bureaucrats, and made to feel at every step he takes that he is a prisoner on leave of absence, and only breathes the air of his native land by the goodwill of his conquerors. The English public must not forget that direct postal communications between Paris and foreign countries are not re-established. Letters from and to England must be addressed to some agent at Versailles or elsewhere, and from thence re-addressed to Paris. As in a day or two trains will run pretty regularly between Paris and London, had our diplomatic wiseacres been worth in pence what they cost us in pounds, by this time they would have made some arrangement to ensure a daily mailbag to England leaving Paris.

News was received yesterday that Gambetta had resigned, and it has been published this morning in the _Journal Officiel_. A witness of the Council at which it was agreed to send the three old women of the Government to Bordeaux to replace him, tells me that everybody kissed and hugged everybody for half an hour. The old women were ordered to arrest Gambetta if he attempted resistance. It was much like telling a street-sweeper to arrest a stalwart Guardsman. "Do not be rash," cried Trochu. "We will not," replied the old women; "we will remain in one of the suburbs of Bordeaux, until we learn that we can enter it with safety." This reply removed from the minds of their friends any fear that they would incur unnecessary risks in carrying out their mission.

Provisions are arriving pretty freely. All fear of absolute famine has disappeared. To-day the bread is far better than any we have had of late. Some sheep and oxen were seen yesterday in the streets.

The walls are covered with the professions of faith of citizens who aspire to the honour of a seat in the National a.s.sembly. We have the candidate averse to public affairs, but yielding to the request of a large number of supporters; the candidate who feels within himself the power to save the country, and comes forward to do so; the candidate who is young and vigorous, although as yet untried; the candidate who is old and wise, but still vigorous; the man of business candidate; the man of leisure candidate, who will devote his days and nights to the service of the country; then there is the military candidate, whose name, he modestly flatters himself, has been heard above the din of battle, and typifies armed France. I recommend to would-be M.P.'s at home, the plan of M. Maronini. He has as yet done nothing to ent.i.tle him to the suffrages of the electors beyond making printing presses, which are excellent and very cheap; so he heads his posters with a likeness of himself. Why an elector should vote for a man because he has an ugly face, I am not aware; but the Citizen Maronini seems to be under the impression that, from a fellow-feeling at least, all ugly men will do so; and perhaps he is right. Another candidate commences his address: "_Citoyens, je suis le representant du_ go ahead." In the clubs last night everyone was talking, and no one was listening. Even the Citizen Sans, with his eternal scarlet shawl girt round his waist, could not obtain a hearing. The Citizen Beaurepaire in vain shouted that, if elected, he would rather hew off his own arm than sign away Alsace and Lorraine. This n.o.ble figure of rhetoric, which has never been uttered by a club orator during the siege without eliciting shouts of applause, was received with jeers. The absurdity of the proceedings at this electoral gathering is, that a candidate considers himself insulted if any elector ventures to ask him a question. The president, too, loses his temper half a dozen times every hour, and shakes his fist, screams and jabbers, like an irate chimpanzee, at the audience. If the preliminary electoral meetings are ridiculous, the system of voting, on the other hand, is perfect in comparison with ours. Paris to-day in the midst of a general election is by far more orderly than any English rotten village on the polling-day. Three days ago each elector received at his own house a card, telling him where he was to vote. Those who were ent.i.tled to the suffrage, and by accident did not get one of these cards, went the next day to their respective mairies to obtain one. I have just come from one of the rooms in which the votes are taken. I say rooms; for the Parisians do not follow our silly example, and build up sheds at the cost of the candidate. At one end of this room was a long table. A box was in the middle of it, and behind the box sat an employe. To his right sat another. The elector went up to this latter, gave in his electoral card, and wrote his name; he then handed to the central employe his list of names, folded up. This the employe put into the box. About thirty National Guards were on duty in or about the room. The box will remain on the table until to-night, and the National Guards during this time will not lose sight of it; they will then carry it to the Hotel de Ville, where it, and all other voting boxes, will be publicly opened, the votes counted up, and the result, as soon as it is ascertained, announced. How very un-English, some Briton will observe. I can only say that I regret it is un-English. Our elections are a disgrace to our civilisation, and to that common-sense of which we are for ever boasting that we possess so large a share. Last year I was in New York during a general election; this year I am in Paris during one; and both New York and Paris are far ahead of us in their mode of registering the votes of electors.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 2: Several complaints having been received from Germans respecting these charges against the German armies, the following extract from an Article--quoted by the _Pall Mall Gazette_--in his new paper _Im Neuen Reich_, by the well-known German author, Herr Gustav Freytag, will prove that they are not unfounded:--"Officers and soldiers," he says, "have been living for months under the bronze clocks, marble tables, damask hangings, artistic furniture, oil-paintings, and costly engravings of Parisian industry. The musketeers of Posen and Silesia broke up the velvet sofas to make soft beds, destroyed the richly inlaid tables, and took the books out of the book-cases for fuel in the cold winter evenings.... It was lamentable to see the beautiful picture of a celebrated painter smeared over by our soldiers with coal dust, a Hebe with her arms knocked off, a priceless Buddhist ma.n.u.script lying torn in the chimney grate.... Then people began to think it would be a good thing to obtain such beautiful and tasteful articles for one's friends. A system of 'salvage' was thus introduced, which it is said even eminent and distinguished men in the army winked at. Soldiers bargained for them with the Jews and hucksters who swarm at Versailles; officers thought of the adornment of their own houses; and such things as could be easily packed, such as engravings and oil-paintings, were in danger of being cut out of their frames and rolled up for home consumption." Herr Freytag then points out that these articles are private property, and that the officers and soldiers had no right to appropriate them to their own use. "We are proud and happy," he concludes, addressing them, "at your warlike deeds; behave worthily and honourably also as men. Come back to us from this terrible war with pure consciences and clean hands."]

CHAPTER XX.

CALAIS, _February 10th._

At 4 o'clock p.m. on Wednesday I took my departure from Paris, leaving, much with the feelings of Daniel when he emerged from the lions' den, its inhabitants wending their way to the electoral "urns;" the many revolving in their minds how France and Paris were to manage to pay the little bill which their creditor outside is making up against them; the few--the very few--still determined to die rather than yield, sitting in the cafes on the boulevard, which is to be, I presume, their "last ditch." Many correspondents, "special," "our own," and "occasional," had arrived, and were girding up their loins for the benefit of the British public. Baron Rothschild had been kind enough to give me a pa.s.s which enabled me to take the Amiens train at the goods station within the walls of the city, instead of driving, as those less fortunate were obliged to do, to Gonesse. My pa.s.s had been signed by the proper authorities, and the proper authorities, for reasons best known to themselves--I presume because they had elections on the brain--had dubbed me "Member of the House of Commons, rendering himself to England to a.s.sist at the conferences of the Parliament." I have serious thoughts of tendering this doc.u.ment to the doorkeeper of the august sanctuary of the collective wisdom of my country, to discover whether he will recognise its validity.

The train was drawn up before a shed in the midst of an ocean of mud. It consisted of one pa.s.senger carriage, and of about half a mile of empty bullock vans. The former was already filled; so, as a bullock, I embarked--I may add, as an ill-used bullock; for I had no straw to sit on. At St. Denis, a Prussian official inspected our pa.s.ses, and at Gonesse about 200 pa.s.sengers struggled into the bullock vans. We reached Creil, a distance of thirty miles, at 11.30. I and my fellow-bullocks here made a rush at the buffet. But it was closed. So we had to return to our vans, very hungry, very thirsty, very sulky, and very wet; for it was raining hard. In this pleasant condition we remained until 9 o'clock on Thursday; occasionally slowly progressing for a few miles; then making a halt of an hour or two. Why? No one--not even the guard--could tell. All he knew was, that the Prussians had hung out a signal ordering us, their slaves, to halt, and therefore halt we must. We did the forty miles between Creil and Breteuil in ten hours. There, in a small inn, we found some eggs and bread, which we devoured like a flight of famished locusts. It was very cold, and several of us sought shelter in a room at the station, where there was a fire. In the middle of this room there were two chairs, on one of them sat a Prussian soldier, on the other reposed his legs. He was a big red-haired fellow, and evidently in some corner of his Fatherland pa.s.sed as a man of wit and humour. He was good enough to explain to us, with a pleasant smile, that in his eyes we were a very contemptible sort of people, and that if we did not consent to all the terms of peace which were proposed by "the Bismarck," he and his fellow warriors would burn our houses over our heads, and in many other ways make things generally uncomfortable to us. "Ah! speak to me of Manteuffel," he occasionally said: and as no one did speak to him of Manteuffel, he did so himself, and narrated to us many tales of the wondrous skill and intelligence of that eminent general. As he called, after the manner of his nation, a _batterie_ a _paderie_, and otherwise Germanized the French language, much of his interesting conversation was unintelligible.

We had been at Breteuil about an hour when a Prussian train came puffing up. I managed to induce an official to allow me to get into the luggage van; and thus, having started from Paris as a bullock, I reached Amiens at twelve o'clock as a carpet-bag. The Amiens station, a very large one covered in with gla.s.s, was crowded with Prussian soldiers; and for one hour I stood there the witness of and sufferer from unmitigated ruffianism. The French were knocked about, and pushed about. Never were negro slaves treated with more contempt and brutality than they were by their conquerors. I could not stand on any spot for two minutes without being gruffly ordered to stand on another by some officer. Twice two soldiers raised their muskets with a general notion of staving in my skull "pour pa.s.ser le temps." Frenchmen, whatever may be their faults, are always extremely courteous in all their relations with each other, and with strangers. In their wildest moments of excitement they are civil. They may poison you, or run a hook through you; but they will do it, as Isaac Walton did with the worm, "as though they loved" you. They were perfectly cowed with the rough bullying of their masters. It is most astonishing--considering how good-natured Germans are when at home, that they should make themselves so offensive in France, even during a truce. At one o'clock I left this orgie of German terrorism in a train, and from thence to Calais all was straight sailing. At Abbeville we pa.s.sed from the Prussian into the French lines. Calais we reached at seven p.m., and right glad was I to eat a Calais supper and to sleep in a Calais bed.

THE END.