_Evening._
I am very much afraid that it will be some time before my letters reach
you, if indeed they ever do. I had entrusted one to Lord Lyons' butler,
a very intelligent man, who was to accompany Mr. Hore, our naval
attaché, to Tours; but, alas, they did not get further than the Prussian
lines at Epinay, and they are back again at the Embassy. Mr. Hore had
with him a letter from the Nuncio to the Crown Prince, but the officer
in command of the outpost declined to take charge of it. The Columbian
Minister, too, who was charged with the protest of the Corps
Diplomatique to Bismarck on account of his refusal to allow their
despatches to go out, has also returned, to re-peruse Grotius and
Puffendorf, in order to find more precedents with which to overwhelm
Bismarck. The Greek Minister has managed to run the blockade. A son of
Commodore Lynch made an attempt to get out, but after being kept twelve
hours at the Prussian outposts, and fired on by the French, he has
returned to share our imprisonment. This morning I read in one of the
papers a wonderful account of what Mr. Lynch had seen when with the
Prussians. Meeting him this evening, I asked him whether it was true. He
told me that he had already been to the newspaper to protest against its
appearance, as every statement in it was destitute of foundation. He
could, however, get no redress; the editor or his _locum tenens_ told
him that one of their reporters had given it him, and that he knew
nothing more about it. This is an instance of the reckless mode in which
the business of journalism is conducted here.
I made two visits this afternoon, one to a pothouse in Belleville, the
other to a countess in the Faubourg St. Germain. I went to the former in
order to find out what the Bellevillites thought of things in general. I
found them very discontented with the Government, and divided in opinion
as to whether it would be more in the interests of the country to turn
it out at present, or to wait, until the Prussians were defeated, and
then do so. They are all very angry at the counter-manifestation of the
bourgeois against them in the Commune. "The Government," said one of
them to me, "is weak and incapable, it means to deceive us, and is
thinking more of bringing back the Comte de Paris than of defending the
town. We do not wish it to be said that we compromise the success of the
defence by agitation, but either it must show more energy, or we will
drive it from the Hôtel de Ville." I quoted to my friend Mr. Lincoln's
saying, about the mistake of changing a horse when half-way over a
river. "That is all very well," replied a citizen, who was discussing
some fiery compound at a table near me, "but we, unfortunately, have
only an ass to carry us over, and he will be swept away down the stream
with us on his back." Somebody now asked me what I was doing in Paris. I
replied that I was the correspondent of an English newspaper. Several
immediately shook me by the hand, and one of them said to me, "Pray tell
your countrymen that we men of Belleville are not what the bourgeois and
their organs pretend. We do not want to rob our neighbours; all we ask
is, to keep the Prussians out of Paris." He said a good deal more which
it is needless to repeat, but I willingly fulfil his request, to give
my testimony that he, and thousands like him, who are the bugbear of the
inhabitants of the richer districts of the city, are not by any means as
black as they are painted. They are impulsive and somewhat inclined to
exaggerate their own good qualities and the faults of others; they seem
to think that anyone who differs from them must be a knave or a fool,
and that the form of government which they prefer ought at once to be
established, whether it obtains the suffrages of the majority or not;
their knowledge, too, of the laws of political and social economy is, to
say the least, vague; but they are honest and sincere, mean what they
say, do not mistake words for deeds, and after the dreary inflated
nonsense one is compelled to listen to from their better educated
townsmen, it is refreshing to talk with them. From the Belleville
pothouse I went to the Faubourg St. Germain. In this solemn abode of a
fossil aristocracy I have a relative--a countess. She is, I believe, my
cousin about sixteen times removed, but as she is the only person of
rank with whom my family can claim the most distant relationship, we
stick to the cousinship and send her every year cheap presents, which
she reciprocates with still more meretricious _bonbons_. When I was
ushered into her drawing-room, I found her taking afternoon tea with two
old gentlemen, also a mild young man, and a priest. A "Lady of the
Faubourg," who has any pretensions to beauty, but who is of Cornelia's
mood, always has two or three old gentlemen, a mild young man, and a
priest, who drop in to see her almost every afternoon. "Are you come to
congratulate us?" said my cousin, as I entered. I kissed her hand.
"What," she continued, "have you not heard of the victory?" I opened my
eyes. "Madame," said one old gentleman, "alludes to the taking of Choisy
le Roy." I mildly hinted that the news of this important event had not
reached me. "Surprising!" said he, "I saw Vinoy myself yesterday." "It
does not follow," I suggested, "that he has taken Choisy to-day."
"Monsieur, perhaps, is not aware," jeered old gentleman No. 2, "that
60,000 men have broken through the Prussian lines, and have gone to the
relief of Bazaine." "I have not the slightest doubt of the fact; it is
precisely what I expected would occur," I humbly observed. "As for the
victory," struck in the mild young man, "I can vouch for it; I myself
have seen the prisoners." "Surely," added my cousin, "you must have
heard the cannon; ah! you English are all the same; you are all
Prussians, your Queen, your _'Tims'_, and all of you." I took refuge in
a cup of tea. One old gentleman came and stood before me. I knew well
what was coming--the old, old question. "Well, what does England think
of our attitude now?" I said that only one word could properly qualify
it--sublime. "We are sacrificing our lives," said the mild young man. I
looked at him, and I greatly fear that I smiled--"that is to say," he
continued, "we are prepared to sacrifice them." "Monsieur is in the
Garde Nationale?" I asked. "Monsieur is the only son of a widow," put in
my cousin. "But I mean to go to the ramparts for all that," added the
orphan. "You owe yourself to your mother," said the priest--"and to your
country," I suggested, but the observation fell very flat. "It is a
grand sight," observed one old gentleman, as he put a third lump of
sugar in his tea, and another into his pocket, "a glorious spectacle, to
see a population that was supposed to be given up to luxury, subsisting
cheerfully week after week upon the simplest necessaries of existence."
"I have not tasted game once this year, and the beef is far from good,"
sighed old gentleman No. 2; "but we will continue to endure our
hardships for months, or for years if need be, rather than allow the
Prussians to enter Paris." This sort of Lacedemonian twaddle went on
during the whole time of my visit, and my cousin evidently was proud of
being surrounded by such Spartans. I give a specimen of it, as I think
these worthies ought to be gratified by their heroic sacrifices being
made public. "I'd rough it in a campaign as well as any linesman," said
the cornet of her Majesty's Life Guards; "give me a pint of claret and a
chicken every day, or a cut at a joint, and I would ask for nothing
more;" and the Belgravian knight's idea of the discomforts of war is
very like that of the beleaguered Gaul. Want may come, but as yet never
has a large city enjoyed greater abundance of bread and meat. The poor
are nourished by the State. The rich have, perhaps, some difficulty in
getting their supply of meat, but this is the fault of a defective
organization; in reality they are only deprived of those luxuries the
habitual use of which has impaired the digestions of half of them. It is
surely possible to exist for a few weeks on beef, mutton, flour,
preserved vegetables, wine, milk, eggs, and every species of sauce that
cook ever contrived. At about seven, provisions at the restaurants
sometimes run short. I dined to-day at a bouillon at six o'clock for
about half-a-crown. I had soup, salt cod, beef (tolerable, but perhaps a
shade horsey), rabbit, French beans, apple fritters, grapes, and coffee.
This bill of fare is a very long way from starvation.
_October 14th._
According to the official account of yesterday's proceedings, General
Trochu was anxious to discover whether the Prussians were in force upon
the plateau of Chatillon, or had withdrawn from that position. The
villages of Chatillon, Bagneux, and Clamart, were consequently attacked,
and after an artillery and musketry engagement, the Prussian reserves
were brought up, thus proving that the report that they had withdrawn
was unfounded. The retreat then commenced under the fire of the forts.
About 100 prisoners were taken; in the evening they were brought to the
Place Vendôme. The newspapers are one and all singing peans over the
valour of the Mobiles--those of the Côte d'Or most distinguished
themselves. Although the whole thing was little more than a
reconnaissance, its effect has been electrical. The battalions of the
National Guard sing the Marseillaise as of old, and everyone is full of
confidence. Some of the officers who were engaged tell me that the
Mobiles really did show coolness under fire, and that they fought well
with the bayonet in the village of Bagneux. Between carrying an advanced
post and forcing the Prussian army to raise the siege, there is of
course a slight difference, but I see no reason why these strong,
healthy peasants should not become excellent troops. What they want are
commanders who are old soldiers, and would force them to submit to
regular discipline. The _Official Gazette_ contains the following
decree: "Every officer of the National Guard whose antecedents are of a
nature to compromise the dignity of the epaulette, and the consideration
of the corps in which he has been elected, can be revoked. The same
punishment may be inflicted upon those officers who render themselves
guilty of continuous bad conduct, or of acts wanting in delicacy. The
revocation will be pronounced by the Government upon a report of the
Minister of War." If the Government has enough determination to carry
out this decree, the National Guard will greatly profit by it.
Yesterday evening at the Folies Bergères a demonstration was made
against the Princes of the Orleans family, who are said to be in command
of an army at Rouen. It was determined to send a deputation to the
Government on the subject. This move is important, as the Folies
Bergères is rather the rendezvous of the Moderate Republicans than of
the Ultras.
A letter from Havre, dated October 4, has been received, in which it is
stated that the ex-Emperor has issued an address to the nation. I do not
know what his chances of restoration are in the provinces, but here
they are absolutely hopeless. The Napoleonic legend was founded upon
victories. Since the name of Napoleon has been coupled with the
capitulation of Sedan, it is loathed as much as it once was adulated.
Apart from his personal following, Napoleon III. has not 100 adherents
in Paris.
_October 15th._
Colonel Loyd Lindsay arrived here yesterday morning with £20,000 for the
ambulances, and leaves to-morrow with the Comte de Flavigny, the
President of the Ambulance Internationale. Mr. Herbert is getting
anxious respecting the future of the destitute English still here; and
with all due respect to our charitable friends at home, it appears to me
that Paris is rich enough to look after its own wounded. The flag of the
Cross of Geneva waves over several thousand houses, and such is the
desire of brave patriots to become members of an ambulance corps, that
the services of neutrals are declined.
_October 16th._
We are told that the ex-Emperor has issued a proclamation, _urbi
orbique_, and that his agents are engaged in London and elsewhere in
intriguing in his behalf. I cannot believe that they have any chance of
gaining adherents to their master's cause in England. That halo of
success which blinded a portion of the English press to the iniquities
which were concealed beneath the Imperial purple has now disappeared.
The publication of the papers discovered in the Tuileries has stripped
despotism of its tinsel, and has revealed the vile and contemptible arts
by which a gallant nation has been enslaved. The Government of Napoleon,
as Mr. Gladstone said of that of Bomba, "was a negation of God upon
earth." His councillors were bold bad men, ever plotting against each
other, and united alone in a common conspiracy to grow rich at the
expense of their country, _creverunt in exitio patriæ_. His court was
the El Dorado of pimps and parasites, panders and wantons. For eighteen
long years he retained the power, which he had acquired through perjury
and violence, by pandering to the baser passions of his subjects, and by
an organized system of fraud, mendacity, and espionnage. Beneath his
blighting rule French women only sought to surpass each other in
reckless extravagance, and Frenchmen lost the courage which had half
redeemed their frivolity. Honest citizens there were, indeed, who
protested against these Saturnalia of successful villany and rampant
vice, but few listened to their warnings. They were jeered at by the
vulgar, fined, imprisoned, or banished by Ministers and Magistrates. All
that was good, noble, and generous in the nation withered in the
uncongenial atmosphere. The language of Pascal and of Corneille became
the medium of corrupting the minds of millions. The events of the day
were some actress who had discovered a new way to outrage decency, or
some new play which deified a prostitute or an adulteress. Paris became
the world's fair, to which flocked the vain, the idle, and the debauched
from all corners of the globe. For a man to be rich, or for a woman to
find favour in the eyes of some Imperial functionary, were ready
passports to social recognition. The landmarks between virtue and vice
were obliterated. The Court lady smiled in half-recognition on the
courtezan, and paid her homage by endeavouring to imitate her dress and
her manners. Cardsharpers and stockjobbers, disreputable adventurers and
public functionaries were intimate friends. No one, able to insult
modest industry by lavish ostentation, was asked how he had acquired his
wealth. Honour and honesty were prejudices of the past. What has been
the consequence? It is a comment upon despotism, which I hope will not
be lost upon those who extol the advantages of personal government, and
who would sacrifice the liberty of all to the concentrated energy of
one. The armies of France have been scattered to the winds; the
Emperor, who knew not even how a Cæsar should die, is a prisoner; his
creatures are enjoying their booty in ignoble ease, not daring even to
fight for the country which they have betrayed. The gay crowd has taken
to itself wings; an emasculated bourgeoisie, grown rich upon fashionable
follies, and a mob of working men, unused to arms, and distrustful even
of their own leaders, are cowering beneath the ramparts of Paris,
opposing frantic boasts, pitiful lamentations, unskilled valour, to the
stern discipline of the legions of Germany, whose iron grasp is
contracting closer and closer every day round the vaunted capital of
modern civilization. You know better than we do what is passing in the
provinces, but I can answer for it that the Parisians, low as they have
fallen, are not so lost to every impulse of honour as to be ready to
welcome back in triumph the prime cause of their degradation, the man of
December and of Sedan. Titania, in the _Midsummer Night's Dream_,
idealizes the weaver, and invests him with every noble attribute, and
then as soon as she regains her senses, turns from him with disgust and
exclaims, "Oh, how mine eyes do loathe thee now." So it was and so it is
with Paris and Napoleon, "None so poor to do him honour now."
The Government is daily becoming more and more military, and the
Parisian Deputies are becoming little more than lay figures. M.
Gambetta, the most energetic of them, has left for the provinces. MM.
Jules Favre, Picard, and Pelletan are almost forgotten. Rochefort
devotes himself to the barricades, and M. Dorian, a hard-headed
manufacturer, is occupying himself in stimulating the manufacture of
cannon, muskets, and munitions of war. These gentlemen, with the
exception of the latter, are rather men of words than of action. They do
neither harm nor good. Of General Trochu, into whose hands, by the mere
force of circumstances, all civil and military authority is
concentrating, _Bonum virum, facile dixeris, magnum libenter_. He is, I
believe, a good general and a good administrator. Although he awakens no
enthusiasm, confidence is felt by the majority in his good sense. It is
thought, however, that he is wanting in that energy and audacity which
are requisite in a leader, if victory is to be wrested from the Germans.
He forgets that time is not his ally, and that merely to hold Paris
until that surely inevitable hour arrives when the provisions are
exhausted will neither save France nor her capital. He is a man slow to
form a plan, but obstinate in his adherence to it; unwilling to move
until he has his forces perfectly under control, and until every
administrative detail is perfected--better fitted to defend Troy for ten
years than Paris for a few months--in fact, a species of French
M'Clellan.
We are now in a position, according to our military authorities, to hold
out as long as our provisions last. If Paris does this, without being so
heroic as her citizens imagine that she already is, she will have done
her duty by France. Nicholas said, when Sebastopol was besieged, that
winter was his best ally; and winter will soon come to our aid. The
Prussians are a long way from their homes; if the provinces rise it will
be difficult for them to keep their lines of communication open, and to
feed their troops. It may also be presumed that they will be harassed by
the 300,000 armed men who are cooped up here, and who are acting on the
inner circle. Cannon are being cast which, it is expected, will render
the sorties far more effective. On the other hand, the question has not
yet been solved whether the Parisians will really support the hardships
of a siege when they commence, and whether there will not be internal
dissensions. At present the greatest confidence is felt in ultimate
success. The Parisians cannot realise to themselves the possibility of
their city being taken; they are still, in their own estimation, the
representative men of "la grande nation," and they still cite the
saying of Frederick the Great that, were he King of France, not a sword
should be drawn without his permission, as though this were a dictum
that a sage had uttered yesterday. They feed every day on the vaunts and
falsehoods which their newspapers offer them, and they digest them
without a qualm. While they expect the provinces to come to their aid,
they are almost angry that they should venture to act independently of
their guidance. They are childishly anxious to send out commissaries to
take the direction of affairs in Normandy and Touraine, for the
provincials are in their eyes slaves, born to serve and to obey the
capital. Indeed, they have not yet got over their surprise that the
world should continue to move now that it is deprived of its pivot. All
this folly may not prevent their fighting well. Fools and braggarts are
often brave men. The Parisians have an indomitable pride, they have
called upon the world to witness their achievements, and the thought of
King William riding in triumph along the Boulevards is so bitter a one,
that it may nerve them to the wildest desperation. If, however, Bazaine
capitulates, and the armies of the Loire and of Lyons are only the
figments of their own brains, it may be that they will bow to what they
will call destiny. "Heaven has declared against us," is an expression
that I already hear frequently uttered. It is indeed as impossible to
predicate here, as it is in London, what may be the mood of this fickle
and impulsive population a week hence. All I can positively say is, that
at the present moment they are in "King Cambyses' vein." We ought not to
judge a foreign nation by our own standard, but it is impossible not to
re-echo Lord Bolingbroke's "poor humanity" a hundred times a day, when
one reads the inflated bombast of the newspapers, and hears the nonsense
that is talked by almost everyone; when one sees the Gaul marching off
to the ramparts convinced, because he wears a kepi and a sword, that he
is a very Achilles; when regiments solemnly crown a statue with laurel
crowns, and sign round robins to die for their country. All these antics
ought not to make one forget that these men are fighting for the holiest
of causes, the integrity of their country, and that the worst of
Republics is better than the best of feudal monarchies; but I confess I
frequently despair of their ever attaining to the dignity of free men,
until they have been further tried in the school of adversity.
Yesterday M. Jules Favre, in reply to a deputation from the Club of the
Folies Bergères, stated that he was not aware that the Orleans Princes
were in France. "If the army of succour," he said, "comes to us, we will
extend our hands to it; but if it marches under the Orleans banner, the
Government will not recognise that banner. As a man, I deplore the law
which proscribes this family; as a citizen and a politician, I maintain
it. Even if these Princes were to abdicate their dynastic pretensions,
the Government will remember Bonaparte, and how he destroyed the
Republic in 1851, and energetically protest against their return." This
reply when reported to the Club was greatly applauded. Probably none of
its members had ever heard the proverb that beggars ought not to be
choosers.
The event of the day has been the arrest of M. Portales, the editor of
the _Vérité_. This newspaper, after asserting that the Government has
received news from the provinces, asks a series of questions. In the
afternoon the editor was arrested, and this morning the _Official
Gazette_ thus replies to the queries: No news has been concealed. The
last official despatch received is one from Gambetta, announcing his
safe arrival at Montdidier. The Government has received an old copy of
the _Standard_, but this journal, "notoriously hostile to France,"
contained sensational intelligence, which appeared absolutely untrue.
To-day it has received a journal of Rouen of the 12th, and it hastens to
publish the news derived from this source. Bismarck never proposed an
armistice through Burnside. The General only unofficially informed
Trochu that Bismarck's views were not altered since he had met Favre at
Ferrières, when he stated that "if he considered an armistice realizable
for the convocation of an Assembly, he would only grant it for
forty-eight hours; he would refuse to include Metz, or to permit
provisions to enter Paris, and exclude from the Assembly our brave and
unhappy compatriots of Alsace and Lorraine." The _Official Gazette_ then
gives extracts from the Rouen paper, which are very contradictory. Our
newspapers, however, in commenting on them, come to the conclusion that
there are two armies in the field well equipped, and that they have
already achieved important successes. The situation also of Bazaine is
proved to be excellent. _Quem Dem, &c._
Two of the mayors have ordered all crucifixes to be removed from the
ambulances in their arrondissements. Their conduct is almost universally
blamed. The enlistment of the Amazons, notwithstanding the efforts of
the Government, still continues. The pretty women keep aloof from the
movement; the recruits who have already joined are so old and ugly that
possibly they may act upon an enemy like the head of Medusa.
_October 17th._
The newspapers to-day almost universally blame the arrest of M.
Portales. This gentleman, with M.E. Picard, started, just before the
siege commenced, a paper called _L'Electeur Libre_. It was thought that
M. Picard's position as a member of the Government rendered it
impossible for him to remain the political director of a newspaper, so
he withdrew, but appointed his brother as his successor. This did not
please M. Portales, who with most of the staff left the _Electeur
Libre_, and founded _La Vérité_. It is, therefore, somewhat suspicious
that this new paper should be the only one whose editor has been
imprisoned for circulating "falsehoods." In the first place, almost
every French newspaper of any circulation trades upon lies; in the
second place, it appears that in this particular case the _Vérité_ only
put in the sensational form of questions a letter from the _Times_'
correspondent at Tours. This letter it publishes to-day, and appeals to
the public to judge between M. Portales and M. Picard. The fact is that
this population can neither tell nor hear the truth. The English papers
are one and all in bad odour because they declined to believe in the
Emperor's victories, and if a _Daily News_ comes in here with an account
of some new French reverse, I shall probably be imprisoned. Government
and people have laid down this axiom, "bad news false news." General
Trochu again appears in print in a long circular letter to the
commandants of the corps d'armée and the forts. He desires them each to
send him in a list of forty men who have distinguished themselves, and
their names and no others will appear in the order of the day. "We
have," says the General, "to cause this grand thought, which monarchies
decline to recognise but which the Republic should hold sacred, to
penetrate into the minds of our officers and soldiers--opinion alone can
worthily recompense the sacrifice of a life; remember that if you make a
bad choice of the men you recommend, you will gravely compromise your
responsibility towards me, and at the same time the great principle
which I would have prevail." The General is a very copious writer, and
it seems to me that he would do well to remember that if he can only
drive away the Prussians, he will have time enough afterwards to
introduce his "grand thoughts" into the army. Two things, says Thiers,
impose upon Frenchmen--military glory and profound silence. Trochu has
the first to win, and he apparently scorns the latter. He is a species
of military doctrinaire, and he finds it difficult to avoid lecturing
soldiers or civilians at least once a day. I was looking at him the
other day, and I never saw calm, serene, self-complacency more clearly
depicted upon the human countenance. Failure or success will find him
the same--confident in himself, in his plans, and his grand thoughts. If
he eventually has to surrender, he will console himself by coupling with
the announcement of his intention many observations--very wise, very
beautiful, very lengthy, and very stale.
Mr. Herbert tells me that there are more English here than he had
imagined. He estimates their number at about 4000, about 800 of whom are
destitute. The funds at his disposal for them would have already run
short had not Mr. Wallace again largely contributed to them. They are
fed with rice and Liebig, but the great difficulty has been to find fat
to add to this mess. The beasts that are killed are so lean that it is
almost impossible to obtain it except at an extravagant price. Tallow
candles have been seriously suggested, but they too are scarce. The
English, as foreigners, cannot claim rations, and were it not for the
kindness of Mr. Herbert and Mr. Wallace, they would, I am afraid, really
starve. All their rich fellow-countrymen, with the exception of Mr.
Wallace, have left Paris, and even if they were here they would not be
able to do anything unless they had money with them, as it is impossible
to draw on London. Winter is coming on, and clothes and fuel as well as
food will be wanted. I would suggest to the charitable in England to
send contributions to Mr. Herbert. I can hardly suppose that Count
Bismarck would decline to let the money pass through the Prussian lines.
I hear that Mr. Washburne has obtained a half permission to send his
countrymen out of the town, if so, I think it would be well if the poor
English were also to leave; but this, of course, will require money.
The Nuncio has managed to get away; he declined to take letters with
him. E. Washburne, United States Minister, Lopez de Arosemana, Chargé
d'Affaires of Honduras, Duke Aquaviva, Chargé d'Affaires of Monaco, and
the other members of the Corps Diplomatique still here, have signed and
published a protest against the refusal of Count Bismarck to let their
despatches to their respective Governments leave Paris sealed. That Mr.
Washburne should be indignant I can well understand; but although I do
not personally know either Lopez de Arosemana, or Aquaviva, Chargé
d'Affaires of Monaco, I can understand Count Bismarck not being
absolutely satisfied with the assurance of these potent signors that
nothing except official despatches should pass under their seal. That
the Prince of Monaco should be debarred for a few months from receiving
communications from his representative in Paris, may perhaps be
unpleasant to him, but must be a matter of the most profound
indifference to the rest of the world.
It is somewhat amusing to observe how justice is administered when any
dispute arises in the streets. The sergents-de-ville immediately
withdraw, in order not to prejudice the question by their presence. A
sort of informal jury is impanelled, each disputant states his case, and
the one who is thought by the tribunal to be in fault, is either taken
off to prison, or cuffed on the spot. I have bought myself a sugar-loaf
hat of the First Republic, and am consequently regarded with deference.
To-day a man was bullying a child, and a crowd gathered round him; I
happened just then to come up, room was immediately made for me and my
hat, and I was asked to give my opinion as to what ought to be done with
the culprit. I suggested kicking, and as I walked away, I saw him
writhing under the boots of two sturdy executioners, amid the applause
of the spectators. "The style is the man," said Buffon; had he lived
here now he would rather have said "the hat is the man." An English
doctor who goes about in a regulation chimney-pot has already been
arrested twenty-seven times; I, thanks to my revolutionary hat, have
not been arrested once. I have only to glance from under its brim at any
one for him to quail.
_October 18th._
A decree has been issued ordering a company of 150 men to be mobilised
in each battalion of the National Guard. Three of these companies are
together to form a mobilised battalion, and to elect their commander.
The _Journal Officiel_ contains two long reports upon the works of
defence which have been executed since the commencement of the siege.
They give the number of guns on each bastion, and the number of rounds
to each gun, the number of cartridges, and the amount of powder in
store. Unless these reports be patriotic fictions, it seems strange to
publish them in the newspapers, as they must inevitably fall into the
hands of the Prussians. Be this as it may, I do not feel at liberty to
quote from them. General Ducrot publishes a letter protesting against a
statement of the German journals that he escaped from Pont-à-Mousson
when on parole. He asserts that his safe-conduct had been given up, and
that he consequently was free to get away if he could. His evasion is
very similar to that of F. Meagher from Australia. M. Jules Favre
publishes a circular to the French Diplomatic Agents abroad, in reply to
Count Bismarck's report of the meeting at Ferrières. You will probably
have received it before you get this letter. It is more rhetorical than
logical--goes over the old ground of the war having been declared
against Napoleon rather than against the French nation, and complains
that "the European Cabinets, instead of inaugurating the doctrine of
mediation, recommended by justice and their own interests, by their
inertness authorise the continuation of a barbarous struggle, which is a
disaster for all and an outrage on civilization." M. Jules Favre cannot
emancipate himself from the popular delusions of his country, that
France can go to war without, if vanquished, submitting to the
consequences, and that Paris can take refuge behind her ramparts without
being treated as a fortified town; at the same time he very rightly
protests against the Prussian theory of the right of conquest implying a
moral right to annex provinces against the wishes of their inhabitants.
Few have been in Paris without having driven through the Avenue de
l'Impératrice. What has been done there to render it impregnable to
attack will consequently give an idea what has been done everywhere. At
the Bois de Boulogne end of the avenue the gate has been closed up by a
wall and a moat; behind them there is a redoubt. Between this and the
Arc de Triomphe there are three barricades made of masonry and earth,
and three ditches. Along the grass on each side of the roadway, the
ground has been honey-combed, and in each hole there are pointed stakes.
In every house Nationaux are billeted; in two of them there are
artillerymen. In the Avenue de Neuilly, and in many other parts of the
town, the preparations against an assault are still more formidable.
Bagatelles, the villa of the late Lord Hertford, has been almost gutted
by 2,000 Mobiles, who make it their headquarters. We are exceedingly
proud of having burnt down St. Cloud, and we say that if this does not
convince the Prussians that we are in earnest, we will burn down
Versailles. I wonder whether the proverb about cutting off one's nose to
spite one's face has an equivalent in French.