After Bergeret came Cluseret; after Cluseret, Rossel. But Rossel has
just sent in his resignation. My idea is, that we take back Cluseret,
that we may have Bergeret, and so on, unless we prefer to throw
ourselves into the open arms of General Lullier. The choice of another
general for the defence of Paris is however no business of mine; and
the Commune, a sultan without a favourite, may throw his handkerchief
if he pleases, to the tender Delescluze, as some say he has the
intention—I have not the least objection. Why should not Delescluze[81]
be an excellent general? He is a journalist, and what journalist does
not know more about military matters than Napoleon I., or Von Moltke
himself? In the meantime we are in mourning for our third War Delegate,
and we shall no longer see Rossel on his dark bay, galloping between
the Place Vendôme and the Fort Montrouge. He has just written the
following letter to the members of the Commune:—
[Illustration: Quelle Gourmande! Paris at Table.]
Waiter, two or three more stewed generals. —We are out of them. —Very
well, then a dozen colonels in caper sauce. —A dozen? —Yes: directly!!
“CITIZENS, MEMBERS OF THE COMMUNE,—Having been charged by you with
the War Department, I feel myself no longer capable of bearing the
responsibility of a command wherein every one deliberates, and no
one obeys.
“When it was necessary to organise the artillery, the Central
Committee of Artillery deliberated, but nothing was done. After a
month’s revolution, that service is only carried on, thanks to the
energy of a very small number of volunteers.
“On my nomination to the Ministry, I wanted to further the search
for arms, the requisition of horses, and the pursuit of refractory
citizens; I asked help of the Commune.
“The Commune deliberated, but passed no resolutions.
“Later, the Central Committee came and offered its services to the
War Department; I accepted them in the most decisive manner, and
delivered up to its members all the documents I had concerning its
organisation. Since then the Central Committee has been
deliberating, and has done nothing. During this time the enemy
multiplied its venturesome attacks on Fort Issy; had I had the
smallest military force at my command, I would have punished them
for it.
“The garrison, badly commanded, took flight; the officers
deliberated, and sent away from the fort Captain Dumont, an
energetic man, who had been ordered to command them. Still
deliberating, they evacuated the fort, after having stupidly talked
of blowing it up,—as difficult a thing for them to do as to defend
it.
“Even that was not enough. Yesterday, when every one ought to have
been at work or fighting, the chiefs were deliberating upon another
system of organisation from that which I had adopted, so as to make
up for their want of forethought and authority. The results of
their council were a project, when we want men, and a declaration
of principles, when we wanted acts.
“My indignation brought them back to other thoughts, and they
promised me for to-day the largest force they could possibly
muster,—an organised one of not more than 12,000 men. With these I
undertook to march on the enemy. These men were to muster at eleven
o’clock: it is now one, and they are not ready, and the promised
12,000 has dwindled to about 7,000, which is not at all the same
thing.
“Thus, the utter uselessness of the artillery committee prevented
the organization of the artillery; the hesitation of the Central
Committee stopped all arrangements; the petty discussions of the
officers, paralyses the concentration of the troops.
“I am not a man to mind having recourse to violence. Yesterday,
while the chiefs discussed, a company of men with loaded rifles
awaited in the court. But I did not want to take upon myself the
initiative of so energetic a measure, or draw upon myself the odium
of such executions as would have been necessary to extricate
obedience and victory from such a chaos. Even if I had been
protected by the publicity of my acts, I need not have given up my
position.
“But the Commune has not had the courage to confront publicity.
Twice I wished to give some necessary explanations, and twice, in
spite of me, it insisted on a secret council.
“My predecessor was wrong to remain in so absurd a position.
“Enlightened by his example, and knowing that the strength of a
revolutionary, only consists in the clearness of his position, I
have only two alternatives, either to break the chains which impede
my actions, or to retire.
“I will not break the chains, because those chains are you, and
your weakness,—I will not touch the sovereignty of the people.
“I retire; and have the honour to beg for a cell at Mazas.
“ROSSEL.”[82]
[Illustration: Delescluze, Delegate of War.[83]]
Most certainly I do not like the Paris Commune, such as the men of the
Hôtel de Ville understand it. Deceived at first by my own delusive
hopes, I now am sure that we have nothing to expect from it but follies
upon follies, crimes upon crimes. I hate it on account of the
suppressed newspapers, of the imprisoned journalists, of the priests
shut up at Mazas like assassins, of the nuns shut up at Saint-Lazare
like courtesans; I hate it because it incites to the crime of civil war
those who would have been ready to fight against the Prussians, but who
do not wish to fight against Frenchmen; I hate it on account of the
fathers of families sent to battle and to death; on account of our
ruined ramparts, our dismantled forts, each stone of which as it falls
wounds or destroys; on account of the widowed women and the orphaned
children, all of whom they can never pension in spite of their decrees;
I cannot pardon them the robbing of the banks, nor the money extorted
from the railway companies, nor the loan-shares sold to a money-changer
at Liège; I hate it on account of Clémence the spy, and Allix the
madman. I am sorry to think that two or three intelligent men should be
mixed up with it, and have to share in its fall. I hate it particularly
on account of the just principles it at one time represented, and of
the admirable and fruitful ideas of municipal independence, which it,
was not able to carry out honestly, and which, because of the excesses
that have been committed in their name, will have lost for ever,
perhaps, all chance of triumphing. Still, great as is my horror of this
parody of a government to which we have had to submit for nearly two
months, I could not forbear a feeling of repulsion on reading the
letter of Citizen Rossel. It is a capitally written letter, firm,
concise, conclusive, differing entirely from the bombastic,
unintelligible documents to which the Commune has accustomed us; and
besides, it brings to light several details at which I rejoice, because
it permits me to hope that the reign of our tyrants is nearly at an
end. I am glad to hear that the Commune, if it possesses artillery, is
short of artillerymen. It delights me to learn that they can only
dispose of seven thousand combatants. I had feared that it would be
enabled to kill a great many more; and as to what Citizen Rossel says
of the committees and officers who deliberate but do not act, it is
most pleasant news, for it convinces me, that the Commune has not the
power to continue much longer a war, which can but result in the death
of Paris; and yet I highly disapprove of the letter of Citizen Rossel,
because it is on his part an act of treachery, and it is not for the
friends and servants of the Commune to reveal its faults and to show up
its weaknesses. Who obliged Rossel, commander of the staff, to take the
place of his general, disgraced and imprisoned? Did he not accept
willingly a position, the difficulties of which he had already
recognised? He says himself that his predecessor was wrong to have
stayed in so absurd a position, and why did he voluntarily put himself
there, where he blamed another for remaining? If the new delegate hoped
by his own cleverness to modify the position, he ought not, the
position remaining the same, accuse anything but his own incapacity. In
a word, the conclusion at which we arrive is, that he only accepted
power to be able to throw it off with effect, like Cato, who only went
to the public theatres for the purpose of fussily leaving the place, at
the moment when the audience called the actors before the curtain. Not
being able or perhaps willing to save the Commune, M. Rossel desired to
save himself at its expense. There is something ungentlemanly in this.
Do not, however, imagine for a moment that I believe in M. Rossel
having been bought by M. Thiers. All those ridiculous stories of sums
of money having been offered to the members of the Commune, are merely
absurd inventions.[84] What do you think they say of Cluseret? That he
was in the habit of taking his breakfast at the Café d’Orsay, and
afterwards playing a game of dominoes. One day his adversary is
reported to have said to him, “If you will deliver the fort of
Montrouge to the Versaillais, I will give you two millions.” What fools
people must be to believe such absurdities! Rossel has not sold
himself, for the very good reason that nobody ever thought of buying
him. It was his own idea to do what he did. For the pleasure of being
insolent and showing his boldness, he has pulled down from its pedestal
what he adored, consequently the most criminal among the members of the
Commune, once a swindler, now a pilferer, is free to say to M. Rossel,
who is, I am told, a man of intelligence and honesty, “You are worse
than I am, for you have betrayed us!”