THE PRUSSIANS IN FRANCE.
The Prussian army was more than two weeks on the road from Sedan
to Paris and Versailles, and it was just one month after the French
emperor surrendered before the king of Prussia made his headquarters
in the beautiful city which seems to enshrine the memory of Louis
XIV.
On Sunday, September 18, a scouting party of three Uhlans made
their appearance at the gates of Versailles. They had in fact lost
their way, and stumbled unawares upon the city; however, they rode
boldly up to the gate, demanded admittance, and presented themselves
at the _mairie_, bringing terror and dismay to the inhabitants.
When the _maire_ presented himself at their summons, they demanded
on what terms Versailles would surrender? He replied that he could
not treat with private soldiers, but must see their officers. "Oh,
our officers are close at hand," they replied; "they are waiting
with a large force in yonder woods. If you come to the gate, they
will meet you there." The _maire_ assented, and the audacious Uhlans
galloped safely away. Let us hope that at their firesides in the
far-off Fatherland they still laugh over this unparalleled adventure.
A few hours later, news was received at Versailles that fighting
was going on towards the south of Paris between French troops and
the Prussians; and all the inhabitants, including foreign residents,
were busy in preparing supplies for the field-hospitals,--lint,
bandages, water-cans, and pillows stuffed with torn paper. Before
long, eight Prussians and an officer entered the city. They were
thus described by one who saw them as they dashed up to the _mairie_
through an excited crowd:--
"They were small men. They had light hair, but were very thick-set.
They looked very tired, and were covered with dust and with torn
clothes: but they had good horses. They wore the Prussian helmet
and spike, and were well armed, with a sabre on one side and on
the other a huge horse-pistol two feet long, while they carried
carbines in their hands, all ready to shoot if occasion offered. But
all the French soldiers had left Versailles, except a few National
Guards. The inhabitants looked very sad; the women were crying,
and the men looked as if they would like to. We walked on, when
suddenly we saw a troop of horsemen come through an arch that spanned
one of the main roads; behind came more, and more, and more. The
first were fifty Uhlans. These fellows were in blue, on horseback,
very handsome. Then came some men with silver death's-heads and
crossbones on their caps; then hundreds and hundreds of mounted
fellows with needle-guns and sabres; then three regiments of infantry,
marching in superb time. Every five hundred men had a drum corps
and fifes playing in perfect unison. You could almost feel the
ground shake with the steady thud of their march as they tramped
on. The men looked dirty and tired, but were fat, and many of them
were laughing. Looking down the road as far as possible, we could
still see helmets, spikes, and guns all leaning exactly the same
way, and glittering in the sunshine. All the officers looked like
gentlemen, with great whiskers, and jolly, fat faces. None of the
men talked, much less sang, as the French do. When these had passed,
there came a splendid band of sixty pieces, playing beautifully,
and then regiment after regiment of cavalry (not carrying as much,
nearly, as the French cavalry do). Their horses were in excellent
order, many of them very handsome. Lots of the soldiers were smoking
great German pipes.
"This was the army of the Crown Prince, less than a third of those
that entered the city. They passed through Versailles, only stopping
to repair the roads torn up by the peasantry. Next came artillery
and baggage-wagons, and carts of ammunition; more infantry, more
bands, fifty pontoons on carts; more cavalry; then hundreds of
soldiers on peasants' carts, which they had requisitioned as they
passed through the country; then ambulances and carts, full of
wounded, who were brought to the Hôtel des Reservoirs and to the
Palace. They began to pass at half-past one, and were passing three
hours; and I saw just as many more going by another road, where
they passed till seven in the evening. There seemed, at times, to
be a hunting corps, for every man would have a fat hare or rabbit,
or hens, ducks, pheasants, or partridges slung on his back. One
man I saw with a live sheep, full grown, over his shoulders.
"Only four regiments of infantry, one of cavalry, and four batteries
of artillery remained in Versailles that night. They camped upon
the Place d'Armes, lit fires, and cooked. Everything was remarkable
for neatness; the cannon and powder-carts were arranged in order
in a circle, horses all fastened inside the circle, soldiers all
sleeping round it. They took off their knapsacks, stacked their
guns, put their helmets on the top of their bayonets, unrolled
their great-coats, and lay down, still wearing sword and pistols,
with their guns at arm's length. Thus they pass the night, rain
or shine (they have no tents) and they look as hardy and strong
as lions.
"By the time the Prussians were fairly in their quarters the inhabitants
of Versailles seemed to take heart and to be much less frightened.
Many French peasants could talk German, and conversed freely with
the Prussians, interpreting what they said to an eager crowd. The
soldiers seemed to be well fed; we saw them dining on bread and
cheese, butter, sausages, and wine. In the evening they were very
jolly. Fires flickered all around; the soldiers sat singing and
smoking. Some milked cows that they had stolen, and some were cooking
game. The formal way in which everything was done was very curious.
At the gate of every house where officers were quartered were two
sentries, and every time an officer passed, these men were obliged
to go through five movements with their guns. On all the doors
of all the houses the names of the officers stationed there were
marked in chalk, and a field-telegraph line in the streets connected
every such house with the _mairie_."
This account of the entry of the Prussians into Versailles is from
the private letter of a very young man, with the eye of an artist
and a keen love of music and fine horses. The letter was seen by
the editor of the "Nation," who requested leave to publish it.
The writer says further,--
"I got up at seven on the morning of September 20, and went down
to the Place d'Armes. It was filled with Prussian soldiers; some
were sleeping, some were cooking, some eating, some grooming horses,
some washing cannon, and all were smoking. There were but two tents,
belonging to high officers. One of these was dressing in the open
air before his tent. A guard paced up and down with a drawn sword.
When I got there, he was brushing his hair and putting on his cravat,
while a little French boy held a looking-glass for him. He had a
bright red shirt on, and riding-boots up to his hips, and silver
spurs. I saw his horse brought up, a beautiful, great black one.
His coat was covered all over with decorations, and he had a very
brilliant sword. In the other tent there were two officers writing.
They had about fifty bottles of claret and champagne stacked up
beside them, and a guard set over it.
"In a little while all was bustle, but no confusion. All the cannon
and powder-carts were ranged in numerical order; the horses the
same; and every bucket and every pot was numbered like the cart to
which it belonged. Soon as the bugles sounded, every man jumped,
and knew what he had to do. There was ringing and rattling of chains,
and the horses were fastened to the cannon, the soldiers gobbled
their last mouthfuls, strapped on their knapsacks, and in a few
minutes everything was in motion, officers giving their orders;
the horses neighed, the line was formed, and off they went.
"That afternoon we saw some French peasants brought in; they had
fired on the men who were stealing their carts, horses, and cows,
and were to be shot. It was very sorrowful. We heard afterwards
that the Crown Prince had pardoned them. Some noble-looking Zouave
prisoners[1] were also brought in, and the crowd cheered them.
[Footnote 1: Possibly some of the men who had shown "regrettable
haste" the day before.]
"About one P. M. a squad of Uhlans, with long lances and black-and-white
flags came in; then came other men leading horses, all very handsome,
belonging to the Crown Prince. Then came the royal baggage, cart
after cart, mostly painted purple, with a great gold crown; but
some carts had once been French. One of the bands had a brass drum,
with the imperial eagle and 3d Zouaves painted on it. They showed
it to the bystanders and laughed. We found that the Crown Prince
was to be received at the prefecture,--a handsome building with a
large court in front, and a black-and-gilt _grille_, such as they
have round the palace and park. We went there at once. A guard
of honor was drawn up in front, and a full band on each side of
the gate. The Crown Prince was surrounded by a splendid staff.
He is quite handsome, with large bushy beard and moustache. He
was dressed like his officers, and wore a cap such as they all
wear, with a scarlet band; but he had lots of decorations and a
splendid diamond star. They all had most beautiful horses, and the
effect was very kingly. The bands played, and the troops presented
arms. The prince rode in first, then all followed him into the
courtyard. They took possession, and the gates were closed. The
next day the prince left to join the king at Ferrières. The palace
is appropriated to the Prussian wounded."
By September 23 the Prussians had completed their investment of
Paris. They were only two hundred and fifty thousand men, but,
disciplined as we can see they were by the letter I have quoted,
they were more than a match for the four hundred thousand disorganized
and undisciplined crowd within the walls of the capital, who called
themselves soldiers.
Strasburg surrendered on the very day that the Crown Prince of
Prussia and his brilliant suite entered Versailles. Strasburg is
the capital city of Alsace, and is considered the central point
in the defence of the Rhine frontier. It has a glorious cathedral,
and a library unsurpassed in its collection of historical documents
of antiquity. It is an arch-bishopric, and had always been defended
by a large garrison. With Paris, Lyons, Bordeaux, Marseilles, and
Rouen, it had stood foremost among French cities. It contained,
when invested, twenty thousand fighting men, and it was besieged
at first by a corps of about sixty thousand. Its investment was
one of the first acts of the Germans on entering France. Strasburg
made an heroic resistance for six weeks, and surrendered on the
day when Jules Favre was assuring Count Bismarck that France would
never repay the services of its heroic garrison by consenting to
give them up as prisoners of war. Before its surrender it suffered
six days' bombardment. A bombardment is far more destructive to a
small town than to a city of "magnificent distances" like Paris.
By September 9, a week after Sedan, ninety-eight Prussian rifled
cannon and forty mortars were placed in position and directed against
the walls of Strasburg, while forty other pieces were to bombard
the citadel. By September 12 the defences of the city were laid in
ruins. Two weeks after, it surrendered. The Mobiles and National
Guards, being Alsatians, were sent to their homes; the remaining five
thousand men, who were regular soldiers, were marched as prisoners
of war into Germany. Hardly a house in Strasburg remained untouched
by shells. The ordinary provisions were exhausted. The only thing
eatable, of which there was abundance, was Strasburg pie, _paté de
foie gras_,--the year's production of that delicacy having been
stored in Strasburg for exportation.
The famous library was greatly injured, but the cathedral was not
materially hurt. A German who had been in Hamburg during the time
of the great fire, assured an English reporter that the scene of
desolation in that city on the morning after the conflagration
was less heart-rending than that presented by the ruined quarters
of Strasburg when the Prussian conquerors marched in. And yet the
inhabitants, had General Ulrich been willing, would have still
fought on.
Metz capitulated one month after Strasburg, Oct. 27, 1870. Three
marshals of France, six thousand officers, and one hundred and
seventy-three thousand men surrendered to the Germans. Many were
entirely demoralized; but the Garde Impériale, a body of picked
troops, was faithful to the last.
"That a vast army which had given ample proof of military worth in
the two great battles of Gravelotte, and which moreover possessed
the support of the most important stronghold in France, should have
permitted a scarcely superior enemy to hem it in and to detain
it for weeks, making no earnest attempt to escape, and finally, at
the conqueror's bidding, should have laid down its arms without
striking a blow, would before the event," says an English military
authority, "have seemed impossible. It set the investing force
free to crush the new-made Army of the Loire, and it occurred in
the nick of time to prevent the raising of the siege of Paris,
which the Germans had in contemplation."
Smaller places held out nobly,--Phalsbourg in Alsace, and Thionville
and Toul, but above all Belfort. Garibaldi was there with a considerable
body of Italians and a contingent of two hundred well-armed Greeks.
There was great jealousy of Garibaldi and his Italians in the Southern
army, and their outrageous conduct towards priests and churches
set against them the women and the peasantry.
Belfort never surrendered. But the army under Bourbaki, called
the Army of the East, nearly a hundred thousand strong, suffered
horribly in the latter days of the struggle. It was not included in
the armistice made at the close of January, 1871, between Bismarck
and Jules Favre, for Favre was in total ignorance of its position.
Bourbaki attempted suicide. His soldiers, shoeless, tentless, and
unprovided with provisions, pushed into the defiles of the Jura
in the depths of one of the coldest winters ever known in Europe,
hoping to escape into Switzerland. Eighty thousand men made their
way over the mountains; fifteen thousand were made prisoners. A
few escaped to their homes. A correspondent who saw them after
they reached safety, said,--
"In all of them, pinched features and a slouching gait told of
gnawing hunger, while their hollow voices told of nights spent
on snow and frozen ground. Some had tied bits of wood under their
bare feet to keep them from the stones. For weeks none had washed,
or changed their clothes. Their hands were black as Africans'. For
three days neither food nor fodder had been served out to them,
and before that they had only got one four-pound loaf among eight
men."
While men were thus suffering in the mountains, an event of the
greatest political importance was taking place at Versailles. On
January 19, a week before the capitulation of Paris, the king of
Prussia received a deputation from the German Reichstag, offering
him the imperial crown of Germany.
The Federal States of the German Empire up to the close of the
last century were three hundred and sixty; many of these were only
free cities or extremely small duchies or principalities. There
was a German emperor and a German Diet. The latter met always at
Frankfort. The emperor might be of any family or of any religion.
His successor was elected during his lifetime, to be ready in case
of accident, and was called King of the Romans. The emperor was
at first chosen by the princes at large, but in process of time
the choice was made over to nine princes, called electors. After
1438, all emperors of Germany were of the house of Hapsburg, the
royal family of Austria. This was not law, but custom. In the days
of Napoleon I. the old German Empire was broken up. The title of
Emperor of Germany was discontinued, though he who would have borne
it still held an imperial title as Emperor of Austria. The small
German princes were mediatized; that is, pensioned, and reduced
from sovereign princes to the condition of mere nobles. In place
of three hundred and sixty States there remained thirty-six States,
composing the German Confederation. A new German Federal Constitution
was formed; the States agreed to defend one another, to do nothing
to injure one another, and to abstain from making war upon one
another. There were practically seventeen votes in the Diet, some
of the larger States having several, and many of the smaller States
uniting in the possession of one.
This Constitution also was swept away in 1866, after the brilliant
campaign of Sadowa.
The great desire of patriotic Germans was to consolidate Germany,--to
make her strong; and while Prussia, assisted by all the North German
States and by Bavaria, Baden, Würtemberg, and Darmstadt, was fighting
France, a new Federal, Constitution was formed.
The king of Prussia was chosen German emperor, and the imperial
crown was to be hereditary in his family. There is a Diet, or Federal
Congress, composed of two Houses, the Upper House being limited
to sovereign princes or their representatives, the other, called
the Reichstag, being really the governing power of the nation.
Each State is entitled also to its own legislature.
In the Reichstag, Prussia has nearly two thirds of the votes; and
its power is much greater than that of our Congress at Washington.
The emperor can veto its decisions only when they affect changes
in the constitution. The Diet can dethrone any emperor if he is
considered incapable of governing, or supposed to be dangerous
to the Fatherland.
Practically the power of Prussia seems boundless in the federation;
she enforces her military system on all Germany, and the smaller
States submit to her, for the sake of strength and unity.
On Jan. 18, 1871, a deputation of fifty members of the Reichstag
came to the king of Prussia's headquarters at Versailles to implore
him to accept the imperial crown of Germany. The world's attention
was engrossed by the campaign which was then drawing to a close, and
the offering of the imperial crown to the Prussian sovereign formed
only a dramatic episode in the history of the war. Fortunately, as
the deputies passed Paris, shivering in their furs, while transported
in carriages of all descriptions, the Parisians made no sortie to
intercept them, and they reached Versailles in safety.
The French seemed perfectly indifferent on the occasion. "Do as
you like," seemed to be the feeling. "Have an empire if you think
proper. It is no concern of ours. We are glad to have got rid of
our own."
The day on which the deputies offered their great gift to King
William was clear and bright. Before the prefecture at Versailles
was planted the Prussian royal standard,--a black cross on a ground
of gold and purple. Round the gateway stood all the Prussian soldiers
who were off duty, waiting to see the deputies pass in. There was
no music, but shots boomed from Paris from time to time. There
was to be thenceforward one Germany, and one flag for the land
of so many princes, who all waived their claims in favor of the
greatest among them,--he who now stood conqueror in a foreign land.
The chief room of the prefecture was filled with men in bright
uniforms, with helmets, ribbons, and decorations of all kinds. The
king stood near the fireplace, surrounded by princes and generals.
The president of the North German Confederation appointed to address
him had once before, in 1849, offered the imperial crown to a Prussian
king, who had declined it. Since then events had ripened. This time
the king accepted what his countrymen desired he should receive
from them. But he declined to assume the title of emperor until
the South German people should express their acquiescence, as the
South German princes had already done.
We may contrast the conduct of the Prussian king with the unwisdom
of the French emperor. Both Napoleon III. and the Emperor William
governed as autocrats; but with what different men they surrounded
themselves, and how differently they were served in their hour of
need! Yet Napoleon III. was lavish of rewards to his adherents,
while the Emperor William was, to an excessive degree, chary of
recompense. He seemed to feel that each man owed his all to his
kaiser and his country, and that when he had given all, he could
only say, in the words of Scripture: "I have but done that it was
my duty to do."
When Jules Favre went to Versailles to negotiate with the German
emperor and his chancellor for the surrender of Paris, he was
accompanied, on his second and subsequent visits, by a young officer
of ordnance, Count d'Hérisson, who attended him as a sort of
aide-de-camp. Nothing could be less alike than the two men: Jules
Favre, of the upper middle class in life, deeply sorrowful, oppressed
by his responsibility, and profoundly conscious of his situation; and
the young man whose birth placed him in the ranks of the _jeunesse
dorée_, pleased to find himself in plenty and in good society, and
allowing his spirits to rise with even more than national buoyancy,
when, for a moment, the pressure of trouble was removed. D'Hérisson
published an account of his experience while at the Prussian
headquarters, which gives so vivid a picture of Count Bismarck,
the great chancellor of the German Empire, that I here venture
to repeat some parts of his narrative. He says,--
"On January 23 I received a summons from Jules Favre. He seized
me by both hands, and asked me to carry, early the next morning,
a despatch to M. de Bismarck, and to get it into his hands before
daybreak. No one was to know of this despatch except the German
officer bearing a flag of truce, to whom I was to give it with
my own hand. 'Then all is over?' I said to Jules Favre. 'Yes,' he
answered, 'we have only bread enough for a few more days. God only
knows what the people of Paris may do to us when we are forced to
let them know the truth. We must do our best to guard against the
disastrous consequences of their strong feeling of patriotism. The
Government does not intend to rid itself of its responsibilities,
but its first duty is to provide bread for the capital.'
"With some difficulty," continued d'Hérisson, "I reached Sèvres,
and the next morning before daybreak gave Jules Favre's letter
to the Prussian officer. I sent back an express to Jules Favre
with the news, and then went to Baron Rothschild's desolated villa
at Suresnes to wait the answer. Two hours later, came a message
from the French officer commanding the nearest outpost to say that
a flag of truce had brought word that M. de Bismarck would see M.
Jules Favre, and that a carriage would be in waiting on the left
bank of the Seine to take him to headquarters."
This knowledge of the negotiation at the French outposts was a
disclosure that Jules Favre had desired to avoid.
"When I brought Jules Favre the news," continues d'Hérisson, "he
was greatly moved. His hands trembled so that he could hardly break
the seal of the letter."
[Illustration: _JULES FAVRE_.]
Seeing that news of what was passing would most certainly be brought
in from the outposts, it seemed best that the French Minister for
Foreign Affairs should start at once for the interview. There was
in the courtyard a _coupé_ with a handsome horse, once belonging
to Napoleon III., and driven by one of his former coachmen. Jules
Favre at once got into it, with his son-in-law and M. d'Hérisson.
They passed with some difficulty through the Bois de Boulogne, the
roads having been torn up and trees felled in every direction. On
reaching a French outpost Jules Favre, afraid of being recognized,
concealed his face. Their only means of crossing the Seine at Sèvres
was to take a small boat which had served General Burnside a few days
before. But the Prussians had been making a target of it ever since,
and it was riddled with bullets. Having bailed it out, however,
with an old saucepan, they stuffed their handkerchiefs into the
worst leaks, and crossed the Seine in safety.
In a miserable old carriage, attended by a Prussian escort, Jules
Favre was borne away to his terrible interview with Bismarck, leaving
d'Hérisson behind. Favre did not come back for many hours. His
first words to his aide-de-camp were: "Oh, my dear fellow, I was
wrong to go without you. What have I not suffered?"
He had been taken at once to a very modest house in Versailles,
where Bismarck had his quarters. After the first salutations Jules
Favre said that he came to renew the negotiations broken off at
Ferrières. Here Bismarck interrupted him, saying: "The situation
is changed. If you are still going to say, 'Not an inch, not a
stone,' as you did at Ferrières, we may break off at once. My time
is valuable, and yours too." Then suddenly he added: "Your hair has
grown much grayer than it was at Ferrières." Jules Favre replied that
that was due to anxiety and the cares of government. The chancellor
answered that the Government of Paris had put off a long time asking
for peace, and that he had been on the eve of making an arrangement
with an envoy from Napoleon III. He then explained that it would
be easy for him to bring back the emperor and to force France to
receive him; that Napoleon could collect an army of a hundred thousand
men among the French prisoners of war in Germany, etc.; and he
added: "After all, why should I treat with you? Why should I give
your irregular Republic an appearance of legality by signing an
armistice with its representative? What are you but rebels? Your
emperor if he came back would have the right to shoot every one
of you."
"But if he came back," cried Jules Favre, "all would be civil war
and anarchy."
"Are you so sure of that?" said the chancellor. "Anyhow, a civil
war in France could not affect Germany."
"But, M. le Comte, are you not afraid of reducing us to despair,
of exasperating our resistance?"
"Your resistance!" cried Bismarck. "Are you proud of your resistance?
If General Trochu were a German, I would have him shot this evening.
You have no right, for the sake of mere military vainglory, to
risk the lives of two millions of people. The railroad tracks have
been torn up, and if we cannot lay them down again in two days, we
know that a hundred thousand people in Paris will die of famine.
Don't talk of resistance, it is criminal."
Jules Favre, put entirely out of countenance by Bismarck's tone,
merely insisted that in pity to France there should be no question
of subjecting her to the ignominy of being again made over to her
deposed emperor. Before parting, Bismarck requested him to write
down such conditions of peace as seemed to him reasonable, in order
that they might discuss them the next day.[1]
[Footnote 1: My copy of d'Hérisson's book has a pencil note at
this place, written by a friend then at Versailles: "Bismarck rode
after Jules Favre when he set out on his return, and thrust into
his carriage an enormous sausage."]
When that day came, the chancellor, having had interviews with
his sovereign and Von Moltke, submitted his own propositions. They
were seven in number:--
I. An armistice for twenty-one days.
II. Disarmament of the French army, to remain in Paris as prisoners
of war.
III. The soldiers to give up arms and banners; officers to keep
their swords.
IV. The armistice to extend all over France.
V. Paris to pay indemnity, and give up its forts to the Prussians.
VI. The Germans not to enter Paris during the armistice.
VII. Elections to be held throughout France for a National Assembly
charged to consider conditions of peace.
Some slight modifications were made in these hard terms, which were
signed Jan. 28, 1871.
As aide-de-camp and secretary to the French minister, d'Hérisson
was present at all the interviews between Bismarck and his principal.
When the terms, proposed by Germany were reported by Jules Favre
to the Committee of Defence, they were thought less severe than
had been feared.
The next morning Favre and d'Hérisson were at Versailles by dawn.
Bismarck, who was an early riser, soon appeared, and took the minister
and his aide-de-camp to his study. There the two men talked, and
the secretary took notes of the conversation.
Bismarck and Favre presented a great contrast. Bismarck was then
fifty-five years of age; Jules Favre was six years older. Bismarck
wore the uniform of a colonel of White Cuirassiers,--a white coat,
a white cap, and yellow trimmings. He seemed like a colossus, with
his square shoulders and his mighty strength. Jules Favre, on the
contrary, was tall and thin, bowed down by a sense of his position,
wearing a black frock-coat that had become too wide for him, with
his white hair resting on its collar. He was especially urgent that
the National Guard in Paris should retain its arms. He consented
to the disarmament of the Mobiles and the army, but he said it would
be impossible to disarm the National Guard. At length Bismarck
yielded this point, but with superior sagacity remarked: "So be
it. But believe me you are doing a foolish thing. Sooner or later
you will be sorry you did not disarm those unquiet spirits. Their
arms will be turned against you."
When the question was raised concerning the indemnity to be paid
by Paris, Bismarck said, laughing, that Paris was so great a lady,
it would be an indignity to ask of her less than a milliard of
francs ($200,000,000). The ransom was finally settled at two hundred
millions of francs ($40,000,000).
"The dinner-hour having arrived, the chancellor invited us," says
d'Hérisson, "to take seats at his table. Jules Favre, who wanted
to write out carefully the notes I had taken, begged to have his
dinner sent up to him; so I alone followed the chancellor to the
dining-room, where about a dozen military and civil functionaries
were assembled, but all were in uniform. The chancellor, who sat
at the head of the table, placed me on his right. There was plenty
of massive silver, belonging evidently to a travelling case. The
only deficiency was in light, the table being illuminated by only
two wax candles stuck in empty wine-bottles. This was the only
evidence of a time of war."
As soon as the chancellor was seated, he began to eat with a good
appetite, talking all the time, and drinking alternately beer and
champagne from a great silver goblet marked with his initials. The
conversation was in French. Suddenly the chancellor remembered
having met M. d'Hérisson eight years before at the Princess
Mentzichoff's, and their relations became those of two gentlemen
who recognize each other in good society.
The Parisians thought that d'Hérisson had been far too lively on
this occasion; but he feels sure that his sprightly talk and free
participation in the good things of the table, formed a favorable
contrast to the deep depression of Jules Favre at the same board
the day before. "M. de Bismarck," he says, "is not at all like
the conventional statesman. He is not solemn. He is very gay, and
even when discussing the gravest questions often makes jokes, though
under his playful sallies gleam the lion's claws."
They talked of hunting. The chancellor related anecdotes of his
own prowess, and by the time they returned to Jules Favre, the
French aide-de-camp and the Prussian prime minister were on the
best terms with each other. But before long the chancellor gave a
specimen of the violence of his displeasure. "Three times," says
d'Hérisson, "I saw him angry,--once _à propos_ of Garibaldi; once
when speaking of the resistance of St. Quentin, an unwalled town,
which he said should have submitted at once; and once it was my
own fault."
On the table stood a saucer with three choice cigars. The chancellor
took it up and offered it to Jules Favre, who replied that he never
smoked; "There you are wrong," said Bismarck; "when a conversation
is about to take place which may lead to differences of opinion,
it is better to smoke. The cigar between a man's lips, which he
must not let fall, controls his physical impatience. It soothes him
imperceptibly. He grows more conciliatory. He is more disposed to
make concessions. And diplomacy is made up of reciprocal concessions.
You who don't smoke have one advantage over me,--you are more on
the alert. But I have an advantage over you,--you will be more
likely than I shall be to lose your self control and give way to
sudden impressions."
The negotiation was resumed very quietly. With astonishing frankness
the chancellor said simply and plainly what he wanted. He went straight
to his point, bewildering Jules Favre, a lawyer by profession, who
was accustomed to diplomatic circumlocutions, and was not prepared
for such imperious openness.
The chancellor spoke French admirably, "making use," says d'Hérisson
"of strong and choice expressions, and never seeming at a loss
for a word." But when the subject of Garibaldi and his army came
up, his eyes began to flash, and he seemed to curb himself with
difficulty. "I intend," he said, "to leave him and his followers
out of the armistice. He is not one of your own people. You can
very well leave him to me. Our army opposed to him is about equal
to his. Let them fight it out between them." Jules Favre replied
that this was impossible; for though France had not asked Garibaldi
for his services, and had in the first instance refused them,
circumstances had made him general-in-chief of a large _corps d'armée_
composed almost entirely of Frenchmen, and to abandon him would be
indefensible. Then the anger of the chancellor blazed forth against
Garibaldi. "I want to parade him through the streets of Berlin,"
he cried, "with a placard on his back: 'This is Gratitude!'"
Here d'Hérisson interrupted his burst of anger by picking up the
saucer from the table and holding it to his breast as beggars do
at the church-doors. The chancellor caught his idea after a moment.
He laughed, and Garibaldi, with his _corps d'armée_, was included
in the armistice.
It was necessary, however, that a French general should come out
to Versailles the next day and confer with Count von Moltke with
regard to some military details. The old general who was chosen
for that service was furious at the appointment, and behaved with
such rudeness that Bismarck requested that a man more courteous
might replace him.
In the course of the conversation Bismarck, who was always breaking
off upon side topics, replied to an observation made by Jules Favre
about the love of France for a republic, by saying: "Are you so
sure of that?--for I don't think so. Before treating with you, we
naturally made it our business to obtain good information as to
the state of public feeling in your country; and notwithstanding
this unhappy war, which was forced by France upon Napoleon III.,
and notwithstanding the disasters of your armies, nothing would be
easier, believe me, than to re-establish the emperor. I will not
say that his restoration would have been hailed by acclamations
in Paris, but it would have been submitted to by the country. A
_plébiscite_ would have done the rest."
Jules Favre protested. "Oh, you will become more inclined to monarchy
as you grow older," cried the chancellor. "Look at me. I began
my public life by being a liberal; and now, by force of reason,
by the teachings of experience, and by an increased knowledge of
mankind, I have learned, loving my country, wishing her good and her
greatness, to become a conservative,--an upholder of authority. My
emperor converted me. My gratitude to him, my respectful affection,
date from the far-off time when he alone supported me. If I am to-day
the man you see me, if I have rendered any service to my country, I
owe it all, as I am pleased to acknowledge, to the emperor."
That night, as Jules Favre was returning to Paris to obtain from
his colleagues the ratification of the armistice, Bismarck proposed
that firing should cease at midnight. Jules Favre assented, but
asked as a courtesy that Paris might fire the last shot.
That night the terms of capitulation were signed by all the members
of the Committee of Defence. It is strange how the baptismal name
of Jules predominated among them,--Jules Favre, Jules Ferry, Jules
Simon, Jules Trochu. Trochu, however, did not sign, having resigned
his post that he might not be called upon to do so.
A few changes in the articles as at first drawn up were made. The
Prussians did not insist, as Bismarck had done at first, that the
cannon in the bastions should be hurled down, and regiments were
permitted to retain their colors, though Von Moltke objected strongly
to such concessions. They were granted, however, by the emperor,
when the matter was referred to him, but in words more insulting
than a refusal. "Tell the envoy of the French Government," he said,
"that we have trophies enough and standards enough taken from French
armies, and have no need of those of the army of Paris."
Then, the capitulation being signed, the armistice began. General
elections were at once held all over France, and the National Assembly
met at Bordeaux. A Provisional Government, with M. Thiers at its
head, was appointed, and peace was concluded. Alsace and Lorraine
were given up to Germany, with the exception of the stronghold
of Belfort, which had never surrendered. The German army was to
enter Paris, but to go no farther than the Place de la Concorde;
and besides the two hundred millions of francs exacted from Paris,
France was to pay five milliards, that is, five thousand millions,
of francs, as a war indemnity,--a thousand millions of dollars.
Germany was to retain certain forts in France, and her troops in
them were to be rationed by the French until this money was paid.
It was paid in an incredibly short time, chiefly by the help of the
great Jewish banking-houses; and the last of the Germans retired
to their own soil in September, 1872.
But on March 13, 1871, the German army around Paris, after remaining
a few hours in the capital, marched away towards home.
The Assembly at Bordeaux proceeded at once to transfer itself to
the late Prussian headquarters at Versailles; but on March 18 a
great rising, called the Commune, broke out in Paris, which lasted
rather more than nine weeks, with a continued succession of horrors.