_September 22nd._
I sent off a letter yesterday in a balloon; whether it reaches its
destination, or is somewhere in the clouds, you will know before I do.
The difficulties of getting through the lines are very great, and will
become greater every day. The Post-office says that it tries to send
letters through, but I understand that the authorities have little hope
of succeeding. Just now I saw drawn up in the courtyard of the Grand
Hotel a travelling carriage, with hampers of provisions, luggage, and an
English flag flying. Into it stepped four Britons. Their passports were
viséd, they said, by their Embassy, and they were starting for England
_viâ_ Rouen. Neither French nor Prussians would, they were convinced,
stop them. I did not even confide a letter to their hands, as they are
certain, even if they get through the French outposts, to be arrested by
the Prussians and turned back. Yesterday on the return of Jules Favre he
announced that the King of Prussia required as a condition of Peace the
cession of Alsace and Lorraine, and as the condition of an armistice
immediate possession of Metz, Strasburg, and Mont Valérien. The
Government immediately met, and a proclamation was at once posted on the
walls signed by all the members. After stating it had been reported that
the Government was inclined to abandon the policy to which it owed its
existence, it goes on in the following words:--"Our policy is this.
Neither an inch of our territory nor a stone of our fortresses. The
Government will maintain this until the end."
Yesterday afternoon we "manifested" against peace. We "manifest" by
going, if we are in the National Guard, with bouquets at the ends of our
muskets to deposit a crown of _immortelles_ before the statue of
Strasburg. If we are unarmed, we walk behind a drum to the statue and
sing the "Marseillaise." At the statue there is generally some orator on
a stool holding forth. We occasionally applaud him, but we never listen
to him. After this we go to the Place before the Hôtel de Ville, and we
shout "Point de Paix." We then march down the Boulevards, and we go home
satisfied that we have deserved well of our country. As yesterday was
the anniversary of the proclamation of the First Republic, we were in a
very manifesting mood. M. Gambetta issued proclamations every half hour,
calling upon us, in more or less flowery language, to die for our
country. M. Arago, the Mayor, followed suit, heading his manifestoes
with the old, rallying cry, "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité." I suppose
the French are so constituted that they really cannot exist without
processions, bouquets to statues, and grand phrases. Notwithstanding all
this humbug, a large portion of them mean, I am sure, to fight it out.
They have taken it into their heads that Paris can be successfully
defended, and if it is not, they are determined that it shall not be
their fault. It is intended, I understand, to keep well beneath the
cover of the forts, not to risk engagements more than is
necessary--gradually to convert the splendid raw material of the Mobiles
into good soldiers, by accustoming them to be under fire, and then, if
things go well, to fall on one or other of the Prussian armies. It is
hoped, too, that the Prussian communications will be menaced. Such is
the plan, and every one pretends to believe that it will succeed;
whether they are right or wrong time will show.
The Government, an ex-diplomatist, who has been talking to several of
its members this morning, tells me, is a "unit." There was a party ready
to accept the dismantling of Metz and Strasburg, but as this concession
will not disarm the Prussians, they have rallied to the "not a stone of
one fortress" declaration.
Of course I cannot be expected to give aid and comfort to our besiegers
by telling them, if they seize this letter, what is being done inside to
keep them out. But this I think it will do them no harm to know. The
National Guard man the ramparts. In the angles of the bastions there are
Mobiles. At points close by the ramparts there are reserves of Mobiles
and National Guards, ready at a moment's notice both by day and night to
reinforce them. In the centre of the town there are reserves under arms.
Outside the gates, between the forts and the ramparts, troops are massed
with artillery, and the forts are well garrisoned. A gentleman who has
lately been under a cloud, as he was the inventor of the Orsini bombs,
has several thousand men at work on infernal machines. This magician
assures me that within a week he will destroy the German armies as
completely as were the Assyrians who besieged Samaria under Sennacherib.
He is an enthusiast, but an excellent chemist, and I really have hopes
that he will before long astonish our friends outside. He promises me
that I shall witness his experiments in German corpore vili; and though
I have in mind a quotation about being hoisted with one's own petard, I
shall certainly keep him to his word. On the whole the King of Prussia,
to use Mr. Lincoln's phrase, will find it a big job to take Paris if the
Parisians keep to their present mood. Mr. Washburne told me yesterday
that he does not think he shall leave. There is to be a consultation of
the Corps Diplomatique to-morrow, under the presidency of the Nuncio,
to settle joint action. I admire the common sense of Mr. Washburne. He
called two days ago upon the Government to express his sympathy with
them. Not being a man of forms and red tape, instead of going to the
Foreign-office, he went to the Hôtel de Ville, found a Council sitting,
shook hands all round, and then withdrew. I have serious thoughts of
taking up my quarters at the English Embassy. It belongs to me as one of
the nation, and I see no reason why I should not turn my property to
some account.
Yesterday's papers contained an official announcement that a company of
mutual assurance against the consequences of the bombardment has been
formed. Paris is divided into three zones, and according to the danger
proprietors of houses situated in each of them are to be admitted into
the company on payment of one, two, or three per cent. It comforts me,
comparatively, to find that I am in the one per cent. zone, and, unless
my funds give way, I shall remain there.
Spies are being arrested every half hour. Many mistakes are made from
over zeal, but there is no doubt that a good many Germans are in the
town disguised in French uniforms. The newspapers ask what becomes of
them all, and suggest that they should be publicly shot. It is beautiful
weather, and as I sit writing this at my open window I have great
difficulty in believing that we are cut off from the rest of the world
by a number of victorious armies, who mean to burn or starve us out. M.
John Lemoinne in the _Journal des Débats_ this morning has a very
sensible article upon the position of the Government. He says that
between the first and the second of these two ultimatums there is a vast
difference, and he exhorts the Government to stand by the first, but not
to refuse peace if it can be obtained by the dismantling of Metz and
Strasburg. The _Temps_ of this evening takes the same view of the
proclamation. The ultra Republican journals, on the other hand, support
the policy of the Government. M. Felix Pyat, in his organ, _Le Combat_,
urges war to the death, and proposes that we should at once have Spartan
banquets, at which rich and poor should fare alike. A proposal has been
made to start a national subscription for a musket of honour to be given
to the man who shoots the King of Prussia. There are already 2,000
subscribers of one sou each to the testimonial. The latest proclamation
I have seen on the walls is one from the Mayor of Paris, informing the
public that the coachmen of Paris are not to be ill-treated by their
fares because they are not on the ramparts. As the coachmen of Paris are
usually excessively insolent, I shall not be sorry to hear that they
have at length met with their deserts. A coachman who was driving me
yesterday told me in the strictest confidence that he was a man who
never meddled in politics, and, consequently, it was a matter of
absolute indifference to him whether Napoleon or a "General Prussien"
lived in the Tuileries; and this, I suspect, is the view that many here
take, if they only dared say it.
It is amusing to observe how every one has entered into the conspiracy
to persuade the world that the French nation never desired war--to hear
them, one would suppose that the Rhine had never been called the
national frontier of France, and that the war had been entered into by
Badinguet, as they style the late Emperor, against the wishes of the
army, the peasantry, and the bourgeoisie. Poor old Badinguet has enough
to answer for already, but even sensible Frenchmen have persuaded
themselves that he, and he alone, is responsible for the war. He is
absolutely loathed here. I sometimes suggest to some Gaul that he may
possibly be back again some day; the Gaul immediately rolls his eyes,
clenches his fists, and swears that if ever Badinguet returns to Paris
he (the Gaul) will himself shoot him.
An American, who took an active part in the Confederate defence of
Richmond, has just been in to see me. He does not believe that the town
will hold out long, and scoffs at the mode in which it is being
defended. I reserve my opinion until I have seen it under fire.
Certainly they "do protest too much." The papers contain lists of
citizens who have sworn to die rather than surrender. The bourgeois,
when he goes off to the ramparts, embraces his wife in public, and
assumes a martial strut as though he were a very Curtius on the way to
the pit. Jules is perpetually hugging Jacques, and talking about the
altar of his country on which he means to mount. I verily believe that
the people walking on the Boulevards, and the assistants of the shops
who deal out their wares, in uniform, are under the impression that they
are heroes already, perilling life and limb for their country. Every
girl who trips along thinks that she is a Maid of Saragossa. It is
almost impossible for an Englishman to realise the intense delight which
a Frenchman has in donning a uniform, strutting about with a martial
swagger, and listening to a distant cannonade. As yet the only real
hardships we have suffered have been that our fish is a little stale,
and that we are put on short allowance of milk. The National Guards on
the ramparts, I hear, grumble very much at having to spend the night in
the open air. The only men I think I can answer for are the working men
of the outer faubourgs and a portion of the Provincial Gardes Mobiles.
They do mean to fight. Some of the battalions of the National Guards
will fight too, but I should be afraid to trust the greater portion of
them, even behind earthworks. "Remember," says the _Figaro_ to them
to-day, "that you have wives and children; do not be too venturesome."
This advice, I think, was hardly needed. As for the regular troops, they
are not to be trusted, and I am not sorry to think that there are 10,000
sailors in the forts to man the guns.
We have been manifesting again to-day. I was in hopes that this nonsense
was over. On the Place de la Concorde there was a crowd all the
afternoon, applauding orators, and companies of National Guards were
bringing bouquets to the statue of Strasburg. At the Hôtel de Ville a
deputation of officers of the National Guards came to urge the
Government to put off the elections. After a short parley this was
promised. Another demonstration took place to urge the Government not to
make peace, to accept as their colleagues some "friends of the people,"
and to promise not to re-establish in any form a police force. An
evasive answer was given to these demonstrators. It seems to me that the
Government, in its endeavours to prevent a collision between the
moderates and the ultras, yield invariably to the latter. What is really
wanted is a man of energy and determined will. I doubt if Trochu has
either.
The bold Britons who tried to run the blockade have returned. They
managed to get over the bridge of Neuilly, but were arrested a few yards
beyond it and brought back to General Ducrot. One of them was taken in
with the passports of the five. "I cannot understand you English," the
General said; "if you want to get shot we will shoot you ourselves to
save you trouble." After some parley, General Ducrot gave them a pass to
go through the French lines, but then he withdrew it, and said he must
consult General Trochu. When the spokesman emerged, he found his friends
being led off by a fresh batch of patriots for having no passports, but
they at length got safely back to the Grand Hotel. Their leader, who is
an intelligent man in his way, gives a very discouraging account of what
he saw outside. The Mobiles were lying about on the roads, and everyone
appeared to be doing much what he pleased. This afternoon I went up to
the Trocadero to look at the heights on which they say that there are
already Prussian guns. They appear most uncomfortably near. Those who
had telescopes declared that they could see both guns and Prussians. We
were always told until within a few days that Mont Valérien would
protect all that side of Paris. How can the engineers have made such a
mistake?
This evening I went to call upon one of the chiefs of '48, and had an
interesting conversation with him. He says that many think that he and
his friends ought to be in the Government, and that eventually they all
will be; he added "the Reds are determined to fight, and so long as the
Government does not make a humiliating peace they will support it." I
tried to get out what he considered a humiliating peace, but he rather
fenced with the question. He tells me that at the Folies Bergères, the
headquarters of the ultras, great dissatisfaction is felt with the
Committees of the "Clubs" for having gone yesterday to the Hôtel de
Ville, and endeavoured to force the Government to declare that it would
not treat with the Prussians whilst they were on French soil, and to
allow them to establish a "Commune" as an _imperium in imperio_. "The
army of the Loire," said my friend, "will soon fall on the rear of the
Prussians; we have only to hold out for a few weeks, and this, depend
upon it, we shall do." Now, to the best of my belief, the army of the
Loire only exists on paper, but here was a sensible man talking of it as
though it consisted of some 200,000 seasoned troops; and what is more
strange, he is by no means singular in his belief. A fortnight ago it
was the army of Lyons, now it is the army of the Loire. How reasonable
men can allow themselves to put their faith in these men of buckram, I
cannot imagine.
_September 23rd._
Firing has been going on since three o'clock this morning. The
newspapers contain accounts more or less veracious respecting fights
outside the forts, in which great numbers of Prussians have been killed.
M. Jules Favre publishes an account of his interview with Count Bismarck
in the _Journal Officiel_. M. Villemessant in the _Figaro_ informs the
world that he has left his wife outside, and would willingly allow one
of his veins to be opened in exchange for a letter from her. We are
still engaged in our old occupation--vowing to die for our country. I
hear that there has been serious fighting in the neighbourhood of St.
Denis. This morning I saw another of the '48 Republicans--he seemed
inclined to upset the Government more on the ground that they are
incapable than because he differs with them in politics. I give this
letter to a friend who will get it into the balloon, and go off to the
Trocadero, to see how things are getting on.
The Solferino Tower on the Buttes Montmartre has been pulled down. No
one is to be allowed to hoist the Geneva flag unless the house contains
at least six beds for wounded. We have now a bread as well as a meat
maximum.
_September 24th._
We are as despondent to-day as we were jubilant yesterday. The success
at the front seems to have dwindled down to an insignificant artillery
combat. The _Electeur Libre_ gives the following account of it. On the
previous evening 8,000 Prussians had taken the redoubt of _Villejuif_.
At one in the morning some regiments advanced from there towards Vitry,
and occupied the mill of Saqui, while on the left about 5,000
established themselves on the plateau of Hautes-Bruyères. The division
of General Maud'huy re-took these positions. At five o'clock in the
morning the Prussians tried to occupy them a second time, but failed,
and at half-past seven o'clock they fell back. At nine they attacked
again, when a column of our troops, issuing from the Porte d'Italie,
arrived. The fray went on until ten o'clock, when the Prussians
retreated towards Sceaux. This tallies to a great extent with what I was
told by an officer this morning who had taken part in the engagement.
The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree cashiering M. Devienne,
President of the Cour de Cassation, and sending him to be judged by his
own court, for having been the intermediary between Badinguet and his
mistress, Marguerite Bellanger. Two letters are published which seem to
leave no doubt that this worthy judge acted as the go-between of the two
lovers.
Mr. George Sanders, whilom United States Consul in London, and one of
the leaders of the ex-Confederacy, is here; he is preparing plans for a
system of rifle pits and zigzags outside the fortifications, at the
request of General Trochu. Mr. Sanders, who took an active part in the
defence of Richmond, declares that Paris is impregnable, if it be only
well defended. He complains, however, that the French will not use the
spade.
4 _o'clock_ P.M.
We have been in a state of wild enthusiasm all this afternoon. At about
1 o'clock it was rumoured that 20,000 Prussians and 40 cannon had been
taken. There had been a heavy firing, it was said, this morning, and a
Prussian force had approached near the forts of Ivry and Bicêtre.
General Vinoy had issued forth from Vincennes, and, getting behind them,
had forced them under the guns of the forts, where they were taken
prisoners. The Boulevards immediately were crowded; here a person
announcing that he had a despatch from the front, here another vowing he
had been there himself. Wherever a drum was heard there was a cry of
"Here come the prisoners!" Tired of this, at about 4 o'clock I drove to
Montrouge. It is a sort of Parisian Southwark. I found all the
inhabitants lining the streets, waiting, too, for news. A regiment
marched in, and there was a cry that it had come from the front; then
artillery filed by out of the city gate. I tried myself to pass, and had
got half-way through before I was stopped, then I was turned back. The
prisoners here, close by the scene of action, had dwindled down to
5,000. Imagine Southwark, with every man armed in it, and a battle going
on at Greenwich, and you will have an idea of the excitement of
Montrouge.
6 _o'clock_ P.M.
The Boulevards almost impassable; the streets before the Mairies
absolutely impassable; no official confirmation of the victory. Everyone
who is not inventing news is waiting for it. A proclamation has been
issued by General Trochu conceived in a very sensible spirit, telling
the National Guard that the moment is ill chosen for pacific
demonstrations, with crowns and bouquets. I hear that some of the
soldiers who ran away at Clamart have been shot.
Some of the papers discovered in the Tuileries are published. There is a
letter from Jecker to Conti, in which he says that De Morny had promised
him to get the Mexican Government to pay his claims on condition of
receiving 30 per cent. of profits. A letter signed Persigny complains
that an _employé_ in the Cabinet Noir is in want, and ought to be given
money to prevent his letting out secrets. A letter from the Queen of
Holland tells Napoleon that if he does not interfere in Germany his own
dynasty will suffer. A note of the Emperor, without date, says, "If
France boldly places itself on the terrain of the nationalities, it is
necessary to prove that the Belgian nationality does not exist. The
Cabinet of Berlin seeming ready to enter into negotiations, it would be
well to negotiate a secret _acte_, which would pledge both parties. This
act would have the double advantage of compromising Prussia and of being
for her a pledge of the sincerity of the Emperor." The note then goes on
to say that it is necessary to dissipate the apprehensions of Prussia.
"An _acte_ is wanted," it continues; "and one which would consist of a
regulation of the ulterior fate of Belgium in concert with Prussia
would, by proving at Berlin that the Emperor desires the extension which
is necessary to France since the events which have taken place in
Germany, be at least a relative certainty that the Prussian Government
would not object to our aggrandisement towards the North."
I drove this morning through the fighting faubourgs with a member of the
Barricade Committee. Barricades are being erected everywhere, and they
are even stronger than the outer fortifications. There are, too, some
agreeable little chemical surprises for the Prussians if ever they get
into the town. In reply to some suggestions which I made, my friend
said, "Leave these people to form their own plans. They understand
street fighting better than any one in the world." At La Villette,
Crenelle, and other faubourgs inhabited by the blouses, there is no lack
of patriotism, and they will blow themselves and their homes up rather
than yield.
The bold Britons started again in their Derby turn-out yesterday.
Nothing has been heard of them since. We do not know whether they have
been imprisoned or what has become of them. I have already entrusted my
letters to balloons, boatmen, peasants, and Americans, but I do not know
whether they have reached you or not. The last balloon was pursued by a
Prussian one, the newspapers say!
Yesterday the Nuncio called together all the diplomatists still here,
and they determined to try to communicate with Bismarck. They seem to
imagine that a twenty-four hours' notice will be given before a
bombardment commences, when they will have time to get out. I send this
letter by a Government balloon. I shall send a copy to-morrow by a
private balloon, if it really does start as announced.
The _Gazette Officielle_ "unites with many citizens in asking Louis
Blanc to go to England, to obtain the sympathies of the English nation
for the Republic." This is all very well, but how is he to get there?
_September 25th._
No news of any importance from the front. It is a fête day, but there
are few holiday makers. The presence of the Prussians at the gates, and
the sound of the cannon, have at last sobered this frivolous people.
Frenchmen, indeed, cannot live without exaggeration, and for the last
twenty-four hours they have taken to walking about as if they were
guests at their own funerals. It is hardly in their line to play the
_justum et tenacem_ of Horace. Always acting, they are now acting the
part of Spartans. It is somewhat amusing to see the stern gloom on the
face of patriots one meets, who were singing and shouting a few days
ago--more particularly as it is by no means difficult to distinguish
beneath this outward gloom a certain keen relish, founded upon the
feeling that the part is well played. One thing, however, is certain,
order has at length been evolved from disorder. Except in the morning,
hardly any armed men are to be seen in the streets, and even in the
central Boulevards, except when there is a report of some success or
during an hour in the evening, there are no crowds. In the fighting
faubourgs there is a real genuine determination to fight it out to the
last. The men there have arms, and they have not cared to put on
uniforms. Men, women, and children are all of one mind in the quarters
of the working men. I have been much struck with the difference between
one of these poor fellows who is prepared to die for the honour of his
country, between his quiet, calm demeanour, and the absurd airs, and
noisy brawls, and the dapper uniforms of the young fellows one meets
with in the fashionable quarters. It is the difference between reality
and sham, bravery and bombast.
The newspapers are beginning to complain of the number of Chevaliers of
the Red Cross, who are daily becoming more numerous. Strong men, they
say, should not enrol themselves in a corps of non-combatants. It is
said, also, that at Clamart these chevaliers declined to go under fire
and pick up the wounded, and that the ambulances themselves made a
strategic movement to the rear at the commencement of the combat. The
flag of the Convention of Geneva is on far too many houses. From my
window I can count fifteen houses with this flag floating over them.
We have most wonderful stories about the Prussians, which, although they
are generally credited, I take leave to doubt. Villagers who have
slipped through the lines, and who play the part of the intelligent
contraband of the American Civil War, are our informants. They represent
the Prussian army without food, almost without clothing, bitterly
repenting their advance into France, demoralised by the conviction that
few of their number will be again in their homes. We are treated every
day, too, to the details of deeds of heroism on the part of Mobiles and
Nationaux, which would make Achilles himself jealous. There is, we are
told, a wonderful artilleryman in the fort before St. Denis, the
perfection of whose aim carries death and destruction into the Prussian
ranks.
I am not sorry to learn that the sale of the ultra papers is not large.
M. Blanqui's office was yesterday broken into by some National Guards,
who made it clear to this worthy that he had ill chosen his moment to
attack the Government. I have not myself the slightest dread of a
general pillage. The majority of the working men no doubt entertain
extreme Socialist ideas, but any one of them who declined to make any
distinction between his property and that of his richer neighbours would
be very roughly handled. So long as the Government sticks to its policy
of no surrender, it will be supported by the faubourgs; if, however, it
attempts to capitulate upon humiliating terms, it will be ejected from
the Hôtel de Ville. A sharp bombardment may, perhaps, make a change in
public opinion, but I can only speak of the opinion of to-day. The
Government declares that it can never run short of ammunition; but it
seems to me that we cannot fire off powder and projectiles eternally,
and that one of these mornings we shall be told that we must capitulate,
as there is no more ammunition. Americans who are here, complain very
much of the Parisians for not using the spade more than they do.
Earthworks, which played so large a part in the defence both of
Sebastopol and Richmond, are unknown at Paris. Barricades made of paving
stones in the streets, and forts of solid masonry outside, are
considered the _ne plus ultra_ of defensive works. For one man who will
go to work to shovel earth, you may find a thousand who will shoulder a
musket. "Paris may be able to defend itself," the Americans say, "but it
is not defending itself after what our generals would consider the most
approved method." We have no intelligence of what is passing in France
beyond our lines. We presume that a great army is forming beyond the
Loire; but yesterday a friend of mine, who received this assurance from
M. Gambetta, could not discover that he had any reason to believe it,
except the hope that it was true.
It is a somewhat singular thing that Rochefort, who was regarded even by
his friends as a vain, mad-brained demagogue, has proved himself one of
the most sensible and practical members of the Government. He has
entirely subordinated his own particular views to the exigencies of the
defence of the capital; and it is owing to his good sense that the
ultras have not indulged in any revolutionary excesses.
I have already endeavoured to forward to you, by land, water, and air,
copies of the Tuileries papers which have been published. That poor old
pantaloon, Villemessant, the proprietor and editor of the _Figaro_, who
is somewhat roughly handled by them, attempts to defend himself in his
paper this morning, but utterly fails to do so. His interested
connection with the Imperial Government is proved without the shadow of
a doubt, and I trust that it will also prove the death of his newspaper,
which has long been a disgrace to the press of France. I went to look
after the proprietor of another paper yesterday, as he had promised me
that, come what may, he would get his own and my letters through the
Prussian lines. My friend, I found, had taken himself off to safe
quarters before the last road was closed. For my part I despise any
Parisian who has not remained here to defend his native city, whether he
be Imperialist or Republican, noble or merchant.
_Evening (Sunday)._
They could stand it no longer; the afternoon was too fine. Stern
patriotism unbent, and tragic severity of demeanour was forgotten. The
Champs Elysées and the Avenue de la Grande Armée were full of people.
Monsieur shone by his absence; he was at the ramparts, or was supposed
to be there; but his wife, his children, his _bonne_, and his kitchen
wench issued forth, oblivious alike of dull care and of bombarding
Prussians, to enjoy themselves after their wont by gossiping and lolling
in the sun. The Strasburg fetish had its usual crowd of admirers. Every
bench in the Champs Elysées was occupied. Guitars twanged, organs were
ground, merry-go-rounds were in full swing, and had it not been that
here and there some regiment was drilling, one would have supposed
oneself in some country fair. There were but few men; no fine toilets,
no private carriages. It was a sort of Greenwich-park. At the Arc de
Triomphe was a crowd trying to discover what was going on upon the
heights above Argenteuil. Some declared they saw Prussians, while others
with opera glasses declared that the supposed Prussians were only trees.
In the Avenue de l'Impératrice was a large crowd gazing upon the Fort
of Mont Valérien. This fort, because I presume it is the strongest for
defence, is the favourite of the Parisians. They love it as a sailor
loves his ship. "If I were near enough," said a girl near me, "I would
kiss it." "Let me carry your kiss to it," replied a Mobile, and the pair
embraced, amid the cheers of the people round them. At Auteuil there
were _fiacres_ full of sightseers, come to watch the Prussian batteries
at Meudon, which could be distinctly seen. Occasionally, too, there came
a puff of smoke from one of the gunboats.
_September 26th._
Do the Prussians really mean to starve us out? The Government gave out a
fortnight ago that there was food then within the city for two months'
consumption for a population of two millions. It is calculated that,
including the Mobiles, there are not above 1,500,000 mouths at present
to feed, so that with proper care the supplies may be made to last for
three months. Prices are, however, already rising. We have a bread and a
meat maximum, but to force a butcher to sell you a cutlet at the tariff
price, one has to go with a corporal's guard, which cannot always be
procured. The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree regulating the sale
of horse-flesh. I presume if the siege lasts long enough, dogs, rats,
and cats will be tariffed. I have got 1000 francs with me. It is
impossible to draw upon England; consequently, I see a moment coming
when, unless rats are reasonable, I shall not be able to afford myself
the luxury of one oftener than once a week. When I am at the end of my
1000 francs, I shall become an advocate for Felix Pyat's public tables,
at which, as far as I understand his plan, those who have money pay, and
those who have not, eat.
Yesterday was a quiet day. The forts occasionally fired to "sound the
enemy's lines," but that was all. But how is it all to end? In a given
time the Parisians will eat themselves out and fire themselves out. The
credulity of the public is as great as ever. We are told that "France is
rising, and that in a few weeks three armies will throw themselves on
the Prussians, who are already utterly disorganised." In vain I ask,
"But what if these three armies do not make their appearance?" I am
regarded as an idiot for venturing to discredit a notorious fact. If I
dared, I would venture to suggest to some of my warlike friends that a
town which simply defends itself by shutting its gates, firing into
space, and waiting for apocryphal armies, is not acting a very heroic
part.
M.F. Pyat announces in the _Combat_ that the musket of honour which is
to be given to the man who shoots the King of Prussia is to have
inscribed upon it the word "Peacemaker." We have taken it into our heads
that the German army, Count Bismarck, the Crown Prince, and all the
Generals of the Corps d'Armée are in favour of peace, and the only
obstacle to its being at once concluded lies in the obstinacy of the
Monarch, whom we usually term "that mystic drunkard."
The _Rappel_ contains the report of a meeting which was held last night
of all the Republican Committees. Resolutions were adopted blaming the
Government for putting off the municipal elections. The adjournment,
however, of these elections is, I am convinced, regarded as a salutary
measure by a majority even of the ultras.
I dropped into the English Embassy this morning to see what was doing
there. Mr. Wodehouse, I understand, intends to leave before the
bombardment commences. He is a civilian, and cannot be blamed for this
precautionary measure. I cannot, however, but suppose that the military
attaché, who is a colonel in the army, will remain. There is a notion
among the members of the Corps Diplomatique that the Prussians before
they bombard the town will summon it to surrender. But it seems to me
very doubtful whether they will do so. Indeed, I for one shall not
believe in a general bombardment before I see it. To starve us out seems
to me their safest game. Were they to fire on the town, the public
opinion of the civilised world would pronounce against them.
The Mobiles, who receive 1 franc 50 centimes a day, complain that they
are unable to support themselves on this pittance. The conduct of these
peasants is above all praise. Physically and morally they are greatly
the superiors of the ordinary run of Parisians. They are quiet, orderly,
and, as a rule, even devout. Yesterday I went into the Madeleine, where
some service was going on. It was full of Mobiles listening to the
prayers of the priest. The Breton regiments are accompanied by their
priests, who bless them before they go on duty. If the Parisians were
not so thoroughly conceited, one might hope that the presence of these
villagers would have a beneficial effect upon them, and show them that
the Frenchmen out of Paris are worth more than those within it. The
generation of Parisians which has arrived at manhood during the
existence of the Empire is, perhaps, the most contemptible that the
world has ever seen. If one of these worthies is rich enough, his dream
has been to keep a mistress in splendour; if this has been above his
means, he has attempted to hang on to some wealthy _vaurien_. The number
of persons without available means who somehow managed to live on the
fat of the land without ever doing a single day's honest work had become
enormous. Most of them have, on some pretext or other, sneaked out of
Paris. One sees now very few ribbons of the Legion of Honour,
notwithstanding the reckless profusion with which this order was
lavished. The Emperor's flock, marked with the red streak, have
disappeared.
We have received news through a carrier pigeon that one of the postal
balloons has reached Tours. I trust that it will have carried my letter
to you. I intend henceforward to confide my letter to the post every
second day, and as I have got a copying machine, to send copy by any
messenger who is attempting to run the blockade. We are told that
balloons are to leave every evening; but as the same announcement
informs us that they will not only take letters but officials appointed
to functions in the provinces, I am afraid that there is almost too much
promised to render it likely that the programme will be carried out.
_Afternoon._
I have just made an attempt to see what is going on between the forts
and the ramparts, which has been a failure. I had obtained an order to
circulate for the necessities of the defence from a member of the
Government, and with this in my pocket I presented myself at several of
the gates. In vain I showed my pass, in vain I insisted upon the serious
consequences to Paris in general, and to the officer whom I was
addressing in particular, if I were not allowed to fulfil my circulating
mission. I had to give it up at last, and to content myself with
circulating inside the ramparts. On them, however, I managed to get,
thanks to a tradesman with whom I had often dealt, who was in command. I
was told that a member of the Government, his name no one seemed to
know, had addressed the "poste" yesterday, and urged the men to resist
until one or other of the armies which were forming in the provinces
could arrive and crush the enemy. Everything appeared, where I was,
ready for an attack. The sentinels were posted at short intervals, the
artillerymen were lying about near their guns, and in the Rue des
Remparts there were several hundred National Guards. They seemed to be
taking things easily, complained that the nights were a little chilly
and that business at home was at a standstill. In the course of my walk
I saw a great many barricades in process of formation. Eventually, I
presume, we shall have a second line of defences within the outer walls.
This second line has already been divided, like the ramparts, into nine
sections, each with a separate commander. I met at least a dozen
_soi-disant_ Prussian spies being conducted to prison. Each of them was
surrounded by twelve men, with bayonets fixed. Coming home I saw nine
French soldiers with placards bearing the inscription, "Miserable
cowards." Of course, the usual crowd accompanied them. I heard that they
were on their way to be shot.
The newspapers of this afternoon make a good deal of noise about the
exploits of the gunboat in the bend of the Seine between Point du Jour
and Boulogne. They claim that its gun has dismounted the Prussian
batteries on the terrace of Meudon, and that it successfully engaged
several field batteries which fired upon it from the Park of St. Cloud.
This may or may not be true. We are also called upon to believe that
five shots from Fort Ivry destroyed the Prussian batteries at Choisy le
Roi.
The latest proclamation issued is one from General Trochu, in which he
says that it was the fault of no one that the redoubts which were in
course of construction when the Prussians arrived before the town were
not finished, and that they were abandoned for strategical reasons.
The latest Ultra paper publishes the account of a meeting which was
remarkable, it observes, for the "excellent spirit which animated it,
and the serious character of the speeches which were delivered at it."
This is one of these serious orations--"The Citizen Arthur de Fonvielle
recommends all citizens to exercise the greatest vigilance as regards
the manoeuvres of the police, and more especially those of the Préfet of
the Police. This Ministry has passed from the hands of a Corsican into
those of one of the assassins of the Mexican Republic." I derive
considerable amusement from the perusal of the articles which are daily
published reviling the world in general for not coming to the aid of
Paris. I translate the opening paragraphs of one of them which I have
just read:--"In the midst of events which are overwhelming us, there is
something still more melancholy than our defeat: it is our isolation.
For a month the world has looked on with an impassibility, mingled with
shame and cynicism, at the ruin of a capital which possesses the most
exquisite gifts of sociability, the principal jewel of Europe, and the
eternal ornament of civilisation." Nothing like having a good opinion of
oneself.
_Evening._
I hear of some one going to try to-morrow to get through the lines, so I
give him a copy of this letter. My last letter went off--or rather did
not go off--by a private balloon. The speculator rushed in, just as I
expected him to be off, and said, "Celestine has burst." To my horror I
discovered that he was speaking of the balloon. He then added,
"Ernestine remains to us," and to Ernestine I confided my letter. I have
not seen the speculator since; it may be that Ernestine has burst too.
The latest _canard_ is that 10,000 Prussians are in a wood near
Villejuif, where they have been driven by the French. As they in the
most cowardly manner decline to come out of it, the wily Parisian braves
are rubbing the outer circle of trees over with petroleum, as a
preparatory step to burn them out. This veracious tale is believed by
two-thirds of Paris.