_Wednesday, November 9th._
I bought a dozen newspapers this morning. Every one of them, with the
exception of the _Gaulois_, in more or less covert language, insists
upon peace upon any terms. Our "mainspring" not only has run down, but
is broken. The complaints, too, against the Government for concealing
all news it has received from the provinces, and for giving no details
respecting the negotiations with respect to the armistice, are most
outspoken. M. Edmond About, in the _Soir_ of last night, insists that we
ought to have agreed to the armistice, even without a revictualment; and
such appears to be the opinion of almost everyone. Poor M. Jules Favre,
who a few weeks ago was lauded to the skies for having so nobly
expressed the ideas of his countrymen, when he said that rather than
yield one foot of territory, one stone of a fortress, they would all
perish, is now abused for having compromised the situation, and made it
difficult to treat, by his mania for oratorical claptrap. In the
_Figaro_, Villemessant blunders through three columns over being again
disappointed in his expectations of embracing his wife, and plaintively
tells "William" that though he may not be anxious to see "his Augusta,"
this is no reason why he, Villemessant, should not be absolutely wild to
see Madame. A more utter and complete collapse of all "heroism" I never
did witness.
General Trochu has, with his usual intelligence, seized this moment to
issue a decree, mobilizing 400 men from each battalion of the National
Guard. First, volunteers; secondly, unmarried men, between 25 and 35
years; thirdly, unmarried men, between 35 and 45; fourthly, married men
between 25 and 35; fifthly, married men, between 35 and 45, are
successively to be called upon to fill up the contingent. The Vinoy
affair has been settled by the appointment of the General to the command
of the Third Army. The following statistics of the annual consumption of
meat by Paris will give some idea of the difficulty of revictualling
it:--oxen, 156,680; bulls, 66,028; cows, 31,095; calves, 120,275; sheep,
916,388. Meat is now distributed every three days. I hear that on the
present scale of rationing there is enough for five more distributions.
We shall then fall back on horses, and our own salt provisions; the
former will perhaps last for a week, as for the latter it is impossible
to give any accurate estimate. We have, however, practically unlimited
supplies of flour, wine, and coffee; if consequently the Parisians are
ready to content themselves with what is absolutely necessary to support
existence, the process of starving us out will be a lengthy one.
_November 14th._
"Wanted, 10,000 Parisians ready to allow themselves to be killed, in
order that their fellow-citizens may pass down to posterity as heroes!"
The attempt to obtain volunteers having miserably failed, and fathers of
families having declined to risk their valuable lives whilst one single
bachelor remains out of reach of the Prussian guns, the Government has
now issued a decree calling to arms all bachelors between the age of 25
and 35. If this measure had been taken two months ago it might have been
of some use, but it is absurd to suppose that soldiers can be improvised
in a few days. I must congratulate my friends here upon the astounding
ingenuity which they show in discovering pretexts to avoid military
service. It is as difficult to get them outside the inner ramparts as it
is to make an old fox break cover. In vain huntsman Trochu and his first
whip, Ducrot, blow their horns, and crack their whips; the wily reynard,
after putting his nose outside his retreat, heads back, and makes for
inaccessible fastnesses, with which long habit has made him familiar.
That General Trochu will be able to beat the Prussians no one supposes;
but if he can manage to get even 5,000 of the heroes who have for the
last two months been professing a wish to die for the honour of their
country under fire, he will have accomplished a most difficult feat.
For the last few days the newspapers, one and all, have been filled with
details of the negotiations which were supposed to be going on at
Versailles. Russia, it was said, had forwarded an ultimatum to the King
of Prussia, threatening him with a declaration of war in case he
persisted in besieging Paris, or in annexing any portion of French
territory. Yesterday morning the _Journal Officiel_ contained an
announcement that the Government knew absolutely nothing of these
negotiations. The newspapers are, however, not disposed to allow their
hopes of peace to be destroyed in this manner, and they reply that "it
being notorious that no member of the Government can speak the truth,
this official denial proves conclusively the contrary of what it
states." It is indeed difficult to know who or what to believe; all I
know for certain is, that M. Jules Favre assured Mr. Washburne on
Saturday night that since M. Thiers had quitted Paris he had had no
communication with the outer world, and did not even know whether the
Tours delegation was still there. Men may lie for a certain time, and
yet be believed, but this "arm of war" has been so abused by our rulers,
that at present their most solemn asseverations meet with universal
incredulity--not, indeed, that the Parisians are cured of their mania
for crediting every tale which comes to them from any other
source--thus, for instance, every newspaper has contained the most
precise details from eye-witnesses of a conflict which took place two
nights ago before the battery of Hautes-Bruyères, in which our "braves
Mobiles" took between two and three thousand prisoners, and slew
hecatombs of the enemy. Now, I was both yesterday and the day before
yesterday at the Hautes-Bruyères, and I can certify myself that this
pretended battle never took place.
It is impossible to predict what will occur during the next fortnight.
_Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas._ General Trochu has this
morning issued a lengthy address to the inhabitants of the city,
informing them that, had it not been for their riotous conduct on Oct.
31 the armistice would have been concluded; and that now all that
remains for them to do, is to "close their ranks and to elevate their
hearts." "If we triumph, we shall have given our country a great
example; if we succumb, we shall have left to Prussia an inheritance
which will replace the First Empire in the sanguinary annals of conquest
and violence; an inheritance of hatred and maledictions which will
eventually prove her ruin." The great question which occupies all minds
now is "the sortie." General Trochu and General Ducrot insist upon at
least making an attempt to pierce the Prussian lines. All the other
generals say that, as it cannot succeed, it is wrong to sacrifice life
to no good purpose. This is how the matter is regarded by officers and
soldiers. As for the National Guard, they distinctly say that they will
be no parties to any such act of folly. Even in the councils of the
Government there is a strong feeling against it; but General Trochu
declines to allow the question, which he says is a purely military one,
to be decided by the lawyers who are his colleagues. They, on their
side, complain that the General never quits the Louvre, has surrounded
himself with a number of clerical dandies as his aides-de-camp, whose
religious principles may be sound, but whose knowledge of war is nil;
and that if he wished to make a sortie, he should not have waited until
the Prussians had rendered its success impossible by completing their
lines of investment. It is said that the attempt will be made along the
post road to Orleans, it being now considered impossible, as was at
first intended, to open communications by the Havre railroad. The
general impression is either that the troops engaged in it will be
driven back under the forts in confusion, or that some 50,000 will be
allowed to get too far to return, and then will be netted like sparrows.
It is not, however, beyond the bounds of possibility that the Prussians
will not wait until our great administrator has completed his
preparations for attack, but will be beforehand with him, and open fire
upon the southern posts from their batteries, which many think would
effectually reduce to silence the guns of Vanves, Issy, and of the
advanced redoubts. These Prussian batteries are viewed with a mysterious
awe. We fire on them, we walk about within less than a mile of them, and
they maintain an ominous silence. On the heights of Chatillon it is said
at the advanced posts that there are 108 siege guns in position; some of
them we can actually distinguish without a glass, and yet not a shot
comes from them. Yesterday, the gates of the Bois de Boulogne were
opened, and a crowd of several thousand persons walked and drove round
the lake. Over their heads one of the bastions was throwing shells into
Montretout, but it seemed to occur to no one that Montretout might
return the compliment, and throw a few shells, not over their heads, but
into their midst. One of the most curious phases in this remarkable
siege is, that the women seem to consider the whole question a political
one, which in no way regards them--they neither urge the men to resist,
nor clamour for peace. _Tros Tyriusque_ seems much the same to them; a
few hundreds have dressed themselves up as vivandières, the others
appear to regret the rise in the price of provisions, but to trouble
their heads about nothing else. If they thought that the cession of
Alsace and Lorraine would reduce the price of butchers' meat, they would
in a sort of apathetic way be in favour of the cession; but they are so
utterly ignorant of everything except matters connected with their
toilettes and M. Paul de Kock's novels, that they confine themselves to
shrugging their shoulders and hoping for the best, and they support all
the privations to which they are exposed owing to the siege without
complaint and without enthusiasm. The word armistice being beyond the
range of their vocabulary, they call it "l'amnistie," and imagine that
the question is whether or not King William is ready to grant Paris an
amnesty. As Æneas and Dido took refuge in a cave to avoid a shower, so I
for the same reason found myself with a young lady this morning under a
porte cochère. Dido was a lively and intelligent young person, but I
discovered in the course of our chance conversation that she was under
the impression that the Russians as well as the Prussians were outside
Paris, and that both were waging war for the King of Spain. Sedan, I
also learnt, was in the neighbourhood of Berlin.
The _Temps_ gives the following details of our provisions--Beef will
fail in a week, horse will then last a fortnight; salt meat a further
week; vegetables, dried fruits, flour, &c., about three weeks more. In
this calculation I think that the stock of flour is understated, and
that if we are contented to live on bread and wine we shall not be
starved out until the middle of January. The ration of fresh meat is now
reduced in almost all the arrondissements to thirty grammes a head.
There is no difficulty, however, in obtaining for money any quantity of
it in the restaurants. In the bouillons only one portion is served to
each customer. Cats have risen in the market--a good fat one now costs
twenty francs. Those that remain are exceedingly wild. This morning I
had a salmis of rats--it was excellent--something between frog and
rabbit. I breakfasted with the correspondents of two of your
contemporaries. One of them, after a certain amount of hesitation,
allowed me to help him to a leg of a rat; after eating it he was as
anxious as a terrier for more. The latter, however, scornfully refused
to share in the repast. As he got through his portion of salted horse,
which rejoiced in the name of beef, he regarded us with horror and
disgust. I remember when I was in Egypt that my feelings towards the
natives were of a somewhat similar nature when I saw them eating rat.
The older one grows the more tolerant one becomes. If ever I am again in
Africa I shall eat the national dish whenever I get a chance. During the
siege of Londonderry rats sold for 7s. each, and if this siege goes on
many weeks longer, the utmost which a person of moderate means will be
able to allow himself will be an occasional mouse. I was curious to see
whether the proprietor of the restaurant would boldly call rat, rat in
my bill. His heart failed him--it figures as a salmi of game.
_November 15th._
We have passed from the lowest depths of despair to the wildest
confidence. Yesterday afternoon a pigeon arrived covered with blood,
bearing on its tail a despatch from Gambetta, of the 11th, announcing
that the Prussians had been driven out of Orleans after two days'
fighting, that 1,000 prisoners, two cannon, and many munition waggons
had been taken, and that the pursuit was still continuing. The despatch
was read at the Mairies to large crowds, and in the _cafés_ by
enthusiasts, who got upon the tables. I was in a shop when a person came
in with it. Shopkeeper, assistants, and customers immediately performed
a war dance round a stove; one would have supposed that the war was over
and that the veracity of Gambetta is unimpeachable. But as though this
success were not enough in itself, all the newspapers this morning tell
us that "Chartres has also been retaken," that the army of Kératry has
effected a junction with that of the Loire, and that in the North
Bourbaki has forced the Prussians to raise the siege of Amiens. Everyone
is asking when "they" will be here. Edmond About, in the _Soir_, eats
dirt for having a few days ago suggested an armistice.
At the Quartier-Général I do not think that very great importance is
attached to Gambetta's despatch, except as an evidence that the
provinces are not perfectly apathetic. It is considered that very
possibly the Prussians may have concentrated their whole available force
round Paris, in order to crush our grand sortie when it takes place.
General Trochu himself takes the most despondent view of the situation,
and bitterly complains of the "spirit" of the army, the Mobiles, and the
Parisians. This extraordinary commander imagines that he will infuse a
new courage in his troops by going about like a monk of La Trappe,
saying to every one, "Brother, we must die."
Mr. Washburne received yesterday a despatch from his Government--the
first which has reached him since the commencement of the
siege--informing him that his conduct in remaining at Paris is approved
of. With the despatch there came English newspapers up to the 3rd.
Extracts from them will, I presume, be published to-morrow. I passed the
afternoon greedily devouring the news at the American Legation. It was a
curious sight--the Chancellerie was crowded with people engaged in the
same occupation. There were several French journalists, opening their
eyes very wide, under the impression that this would enable them to
understand English. A Secretary of Legation was sitting at a table
giving audiences to unnumbered ladies who wished to know how they could
leave Paris; or, if this was impossible, how they could draw on their
bankers in New York. Mr. Washburne walked about cheerily shaking
everyone by the hand, and telling them to make themselves at home. How
different American diplomatists are to the prim old women who represent
us abroad, with a staff of half-a-dozen dandies helping each other to do
nothing, who have been taught to regard all who are not of the craft as
their natural enemies. At the English Embassy Colonel Claremont and a
porter now represent the British nation. The former, in obedience to
orders from the Foreign Office, is only waiting for a reply from Count
Bismarck to his letter asking for a pass to leave us. Whether the
numerous English who remain here are then to look to Mr. Washburne or to
the porter for protection, I have been unable to discover.
M. Felix Pyat has been let out of prison. He says that he rather prefers
being there than at liberty, for in his cell he can "forget that he is
in a town inhabited by cowards," and devote himself to the works of M.
Louis Blanc, which he calls the "Bibles of democracy."
Although Trochu is neither a great general nor a great statesman, he is
a gentleman. I am therefore surprised that he allows obscene caricatures
of the Empress to be publicly sold in the streets and exhibited in the
kiosks. During the time that she occupied the throne in this most
scandal-loving town, no scandal was ever whispered against her. She was
fond, it is true, of dress, but she was a good mother and a good wife.
Now that she and her friends are in exile, "lives of the woman
Bonaparte" are hawked about, which in England would bring their authors
under Lord Campbell's statute. In one caricature she is represented
stark naked, with Prince Joinville sketching her. In another, called
"the Spanish cow," she is made a sort of female Centaur. In another she
is dancing the Can-can, and throwing her petticoats over her head,
before King William, who is drinking champagne, seated on a sofa, while
her husband is in a cage hung up to the wall. These scandalous
caricatures have not even the merit of being funny, they are a
reflection upon French chivalry, and on that of Trochu. What would he
say if the Government which succeeds him were to allow his own wife to
be insulted in this cowardly manner?
Anything more dreary than the Boulevards now in the evening it is
difficult to imagine. Only one street lamp in three is lighted, and the
_cafés_, which close at 10.30, are put on half-allowance of gas. To mend
matters, everyone who likes is allowed to put up a shed on the side walk
to sell his goods, or to collect a crowd by playing a dirge on a fiddle.
The consequence is that the circulation is rendered almost impossible. I
suggested to a high authority that the police ought at least to
interfere to make these peripatetic musicians "move on," but he told me
that, were they to do so, they would be accused of being "Corsicans and
Reactionaries." These police are themselves most ludicrous objects;
anyone coming here would suppose that they are members of some new sect
of peripatetic philosophers; they walk about in pairs, arrayed in pea
jackets with large hoods; and when it is wet they have umbrellas. Their
business appears to be, never to interfere with the rights of their
fellow-citizens to do what they please, and, so helpless do they look,
that I believe if a child were to attack them, they would appeal to the
passers-by for protection.
I see in an English paper of the 3rd that it is believed at Versailles
that we have only fresh meat for twelve days. We are not so badly off as
that. How many oxen and cows there still are I do not know; a few days
ago, however, I counted myself 1,500 in a large pen. The newspapers
calculate that at the commencement of the siege there were 100,000
horses in Paris, and that there are now 70,000; 30,000 will be enough
for the army, consequently 40,000 can be eaten. The amount of meat on
each horse averages 500 lb., consequently we have twenty million pounds
of fresh horse-flesh, a quantity which will last us for more than three
months at the present rate of the meat consumption. These figures are, I
think, very much exaggerated. I should say that there are not more than
40,000 horses now in Paris. The _Petites Voitures_ (Cab) Company has
8,000, and offered to sell them to the Government a few days ago, but
that proposal was declined. As regards salt meat, the Government keep
secret the amount. It cannot, however, be very great, because it is only
derived from animals which have been killed since the siege commenced.
The stock of flour, we are told, is practically unlimited, and as no
attempt is made to prevent its waste in pasty and fancy cakes, the
authorities are acting apparently on this assumption.
The health of Paris is far from satisfactory, and when the winter
weather regularly sets in there will be much sickness. No one is
absolutely starving, but many are without sufficient nourishment. The
Government gives orders for 10c. worth of bread to all who are in want,
and these orders are accepted as money by all the bakers. In each
arrondissement there are also what are called cantines économiques,
where a mess of soup made from vegetables and a small quantity of meat
can be bought for five centimes. Very little, however, has been done to
distribute warm clothing among the poor, and when it is considered that
above 100,000 persons have come into Paris from the neighbouring
villages, most of whom are dependent upon public or private charity, it
is evident that, even if there is no absolute want, there must be much
suffering. Count Bismarck was not far wrong when he said that, if the
siege be prolonged until our stock of provisions is exhausted, many
thousands in the succeeding weeks will die of starvation. I would
recommend those charitable persons who are anxious to come to the aid of
this unfortunate country to be ready to throw provisions into Paris as
soon as communications with England are reopened, rather than to
subscribe their money to ambulances. All things considered, the wounded
are well tended. In the hotel in which I am residing the Société
Internationale has established its headquarters. We have now 160 wounded
here, and beds are prepared for 400. The ambulance occupies two stories,
for which 500 francs a day are paid; and an arrangement has been made
with the administration of the hotel to feed each convalescent for 2.50
francs per diem. As in all French institutions, there appear to me to be
far too many officials; the corridors are pervaded with young healthy
men, with the red cross on their arms, who are supposed to be making
themselves useful in some mysterious manner, but whose main object in
being here is, I imagine, to shirk military service. The ambulance which
is considered the best is the American. The wounded are under canvas,
the tents are not cold, and yet the ventilation is admirable. The
American surgeons are far more skilful in the treatment of gun-shot
wounds than their French colleagues. Instead of amputation they practise
resection of the bone. It is the dream of every French soldier, if he is
wounded, to be taken to this ambulance. They seem to be under the
impression that, even if their legs are shot off, the skill of the
Æsculapii of the United States will make them grow again. Be this as it
may, a person might be worse off than stretched on a bed with a slight
wound under the tents of the Far West.
The French have a notion that, go where you may, to the top of a pyramid
or to the top of Mont Blanc, you are sure to meet an Englishman reading
a newspaper; in my experience of the world, the American girl is far
more inevitable than the Britisher; and, of course, under the Stars and
Stripes which wave over the American tents she is to be found, tending
the sick, and, when there is nothing more to be got for them, patiently
reading to them or playing at cards with them. I have a great weakness
for the American girl, she always puts her heart in what she is about.
When she flirts she does it conscientiously, and when she nurses a most
uninviting-looking Zouave, or Franc-tireur, she does it equally
conscientiously; besides, as a rule, she is pretty, a gift of nature
which I am very far from undervaluing.
_November 16th._
It is reported in "official circles" that a second pigeon has arrived
with intelligence from the French Consul at Bâle, that the Baden troops
have been defeated, and that some of them have been obliged to seek
refuge in Switzerland. The evident object of Trochu now is to get up the
courage of our warriors to the sticking point for the grand sortie which
is put off from day to day. The newspapers contain extracts from the
English journals which came in the day before yesterday. By a process,
in which we are adepts at believing everything which tells for us, and
regarding everything which tells against us as a fabrication of
perfidious Albion, we have consoled ourselves with the idea that "the
situation is far better than we supposed." As for Bazaine, we cannot
make up our minds whether we ought to call him a traitor or a hero. We
therefore say as little about him as possible.
I have just come back from the southern outposts. The redoubts of Moulin
Saqui and Hautes Bruyères were firing heavily, and the Prussians were
replying from Chatillon. Their shrapnell, however, fell short, just
within our advanced line. From the sound of the guns, it was supposed
that they were only using field artillery. The sailors insist that the
enemy has been unable to place his siege-guns in position, and that our
fire knocks their earthworks to pieces. I am inclined to think that
behind these earthworks there are masked batteries, for surely the
Prussian Engineer Officers cannot be amusing themselves with making
earthworks for the mere pleasure of seeing them knocked to pieces.
Anyhow they are playing a deep game, for, as far as I can hear, they
have not fired a single siege-gun yet, either against our redoubts or
forts.
_November 19th._
Burke, in his work on the French Revolution, augured ill of the future
of a country the greater number of whose legislators were lawyers. What
would he have said of a Government composed almost exclusively of these
objects of his political distrust? When history recounts the follies of
the French Republic of 1870, I trust that it will not forget to mention
that all the members of the Government, with the exception of one; six
ministers; 13 under-secretaries of State; the Préfet of Police; 24
prefets and commissaries sent into the provinces; and 36 other high
functionaries; belonged to the legal profession. The natural consequence
of this is that we cannot get out of "Nisi prius." Our rulers are unable
to take a large statesmanlike view of the situation. They live from hand
to mouth, and never rise above the expedients and temporizing policy of
advocates. They are perpetually engaged in appealing against the stern
logic of facts to some imaginary tribunal, from which they hope to gain
a verdict in favour of their clients. Like lawyers in England, they
entered public life to "get on." This is still the first object of each
one of them; and as they are deputies of Paris, they feel that, next to
themselves, they owe allegiance to their electors. To secure the
supremacy of Paris over the provinces, and of their own influence over
Paris, is the Alpha and Omega of their political creed. With an eye to
the future, each of them has his own journal; and when any decree is
issued which is not popular, the public is given to understand in these
semi-official organs, that every single member of the Government voted
against it, although it passed by a majority.
It is somewhat strange that the military man who, by the force of
circumstances, is the President of this Devil's own Government is by
nature more of a lawyer than even if he had been bred up to the trade.
His colleagues own in despair that he is their master in strength of
lungs, and that when they split straws into two he splits them into
four. In vain they fall back on their pens and indite letters and
proclamations, their President out-letters and out-proclaims them.
Trochu is indeed a sort of military Ollivier. He earned his spurs as a
military critic, Ollivier as a civil critic. Both are clever, and
eminently respectable in their private relations, and both are verbose,
unpractical, and wanting in plain common sense. Ollivier had a plan, and
so has Trochu. Ollivier complained when his plan failed, that it was the
fault of every one except himself, and Trochu is already doing the same.
Both protested against the system of rule adopted by their predecessors,
and have followed in their steps. Both were advocates of publicity, and
both audaciously suppressed and distorted facts to suit their
convenience. Ollivier is probably now writing a book to prove that he
was the wisest of ministers. Trochu, as soon as the siege is over, will
write one to prove that he was the best of generals. Ollivier insisted
that he could found a Liberal Government upon an Imperial basis, and
miserably failed. Trochu declares that he, and he alone, can force the
Prussians to raise the siege of Paris. When his plan has failed, as fail
it in all probability will, he still, with that serene assurance which
is the attribute of mediocrity, will insist that it ought to have
succeeded. "_Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni._" Those who
knew him in Brittany tell me that long before he became a personage, "le
plan de Trochu" was a standing joke throughout that province. The
General, it appears, is fond of piquet; whenever he sat down to play he
said, "j'ai mon plan." When he got up after losing the game, as was
usually the case, he went away muttering, "Cependant, mon plan était
bon." He seemed to have this word "plan" on the brain, for no one who
ever played with him could perceive in his mode of handling the cards
the slightest trace of a plan. The mania was harmless as long as its
exhibition was confined to a game in which a few francs were to be won
or lost, but it becomes most serious in its consequences when the
destinies of a country are subordinated to it. At the commencement of
the siege, General Trochu announced that he not only had a "plan," but
that he had inscribed it in his will, which was deposited with his
notary. An ordinary man would have made use of the materials at his
command, and, without pledging himself to success, would have
endeavoured to give the provinces time to organize an army of succour by
harassing the Prussians, and thus preventing them from detaching troops
in all directions. Instead of this, with the exception of some two or
three harmless sorties, they have been allowed slowly to inclose us in a
net of circumvallations. Our provisions are each day growing more
scarce, and nothing is done except to heap up defensive works to prevent
the town being carried by an assault, which there is no probability that
the besiegers mean to attempt. Chatillon and Meudon were ill guarded,
but ditches were cut along the Avenue de l'Impératrice. The young
unmarried men in Paris were not incorporated until the 50th day of the
siege, but two or three times a week they were lectured on their duties
as citizens by their leader. If there is really to be a sortie,
everything is ready, but now the General hesitates--hints that he is not
seconded, that the soldiers will not fight, and almost seems to regret
at last his own theoretical presumption. "He trusted," said one of his
generals to me, "first to the neutrals, then to the provinces, and now
he is afraid to trust to himself." Next time a general is besieged in a
town I should recommend him not to announce that he has a plan which
must ensure victory, unless indeed it be a German town, where nothing
which an official can do is considered ridiculous.
Benjamin Constant said of his countrymen that their heads could never
contain more than one idea at once. A few days ago we were full of our
victory at Orleans. Then came the question whether or not Bazaine was a
traitor. To-day we have forgotten Bazaine and Orleans. The marching
battalions of the National Guard are to have new coats, and we can talk
or think of nothing else. The effect as yet of these marching battalions
has been to disorganise the existing battalions. Every day some new
decree has been issued altering their mode of formation. Perhaps the new
coats will settle everything, and convert them into excellent soldiers.
Let us hope it.
We are by no means satisfied with the news which has reached us through
the English papers up to the 3rd. Thus the _Liberté_, after giving
extracts from numbers of the _Pall Mall Gazette_, the _Daily News_, the
_Daily Telegraph_, the _Sun_, the _Times_, and the _Standard_,
accompanies them with the following reflections:--"We feel bound to
protest in favour of the English press against the assertions of those
who would judge the opinions of a great liberal nation by the wretched
specimens which are under our eyes. Heaven be praised. The civilized
world is not so degenerate that the ignoble conduct of Prussia fails to
elicit universal reprobation." We have had two more pigeons, but
Gambetta either cannot or will not let us know anything of importance.
These two messengers confirm the news of the "victory of Orleans," and
inform us that public opinion is daily pronouncing in favour of France,
and that the condition of affairs in the provinces is most satisfactory.
Such is the universal distrust felt now for any intelligence which
emanates from an official source, that if Gambetta were to send us in an
account of a new victory to-morrow, and if all his colleagues here were
to swear to its truth, we should be in a wild state of enthusiasm for a
few hours, and then disbelieve the whole story.
Small-pox is on the increase. The deaths last week from this disease
amounted to 419; the general mortality to 1885--a number far above the
average. The medical men complain of the amount of raw spirits which is
drunk--particularly at the ramparts, and ascribe much of the ill health
to this cause.
By the bye, the question of the treason of Bazaine turns with us upon
what your correspondent at Saarbruck meant by the word "stores," which
he says were discovered in Metz. If munitions of war, we say that
Bazaine was a hero; if food, that he was a traitor.
If sieges were likely to occur frequently, the whole system of
ambulances, as against military hospitals, would have to be ventilated.
There are in Paris two hundred and forty-three ambulances, and when the
siege commenced, such was the anxiety to obtain a _blessé_, that when a
sortie took place, those who brought them in were offered bribes to take
them to some house over which the flag of Geneva waved. A man with a
broken leg or arm was worth thirty francs to his kind preservers. The
largest ambulance is the International. Its headquarters are at the
Grand Hotel. It seems to me over-manned, for the number of the healthy
who receive pay and rations from its funds exceeds the number of the
wounded. Many, too, of the former are young unmarried men, who ought to
be serving either in the ranks of the army, or at least of the Garde
Nationale. The following story I take from an organ of public opinion of
to-day's date:--A lady went to her Mairie to ask to be given a wounded
soldier to look after. She was offered a swarthy Zouave. "No," she said,
"I wish for a blonde, being a brunette myself"--nothing like a
contrast.