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 Prefet of the Police. This Ministry has pa.s.sed from the hands of a Corsican into those of one of the a.s.sa.s.sins of the Mexican Republic." I derive considerable amus.e.m.e.nt 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 impa.s.sibility, mingled with shame and cynicism, at the ruin of a capital which possesses the most exquisite gifts of sociability, the princ.i.p.al 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.

CHAPTER III.

_September 27th,_ 8 A.M.

I have sent you numerous letters, but I am not aware whether you have received them. As very probably they are now either in the clouds or in the moon, I write a short resume of what has pa.s.sed since we have been cut off from the outer world, as I believe that I have a very good chance this morning to communicate with you.

When the town was first invested the greatest disorder existed. For a few days officers, even generals, were shot at by regiments outside the fortifications; the National Guards performed their service on the ramparts very reluctantly, and, when possible, shirked it. The Mobiles were little better than an armed mob of peasants. The troops of the line were utterly demoralised. The streets were filled with troopers staggering about half drunk, and groups of armed Mobiles wandering in ignorance of the whereabouts of their quarters and of their regiments.

The Government was divided into two parties--one supported by the Moderates, and anxious to make peace on reasonable terms; the other supported by the Ultras, and determined to continue the contest at all hazards. The Ministers were almost in despair at finding the utter disorder in which everything had been left by their predecessors. Little by little this condition of things has mended for the better. Since the failure of the mission of M. Jules Favre, and the exorbitant demands which were then put forward by Count Bismarck, both Moderates and Ultras have supported the men who are in power. It is felt by all that if Paris is to be defended with any prospect of success, there must be absolute union among its defenders. The Deputies of Paris are not thought, perhaps, to be endowed with any very great administrative ability, but Mr. Lincoln's proverb respecting the difficulty of a person changing his horse whilst he is crossing a stream is acted on, and so long as they neither commit any signal act of folly, nor attempt to treat with Prussia either for peace or a capitulation, I think that no effort will be made to oust them. They are, I believe, doing their best to organise the defence of this city, and if they waste a little time in altering the names of the streets, and publishing manifestoes couched in grand and bombastic phrases, it must be remembered that they have to govern Frenchmen who are fond of this species of nonsense. With respect to the military situation, the soldiers of all sorts are kept well together, and appear to be under the command of their officers. The National Guard, although it still grumbles a little, does its duty on the ramparts. The soldiers of the line are kept outside the town. The Mobiles have pa.s.sed many hours in drill during the last ten days; they are orderly and well conducted, and if not soldiers already, are a far more formidable force than they were at the commencement of the siege.

Whether they will ever become available for operations in the open field is, perhaps, questionable, for their regiments would probably be thrown into confusion if called upon to act together. Within the line of the forts, however, there is no reason to suppose that they will not fight well. The forts are manned by sailors, who are excellent artillerists, and the guns are formidable ones. On the Seine there is a flotilla of gunboats. The city has food and ammunition for two months. Paris, therefore, ought to be able to hold out for these two months. She has her own population, a large portion of which consists of the working men, who have never been backward in fighting. The provinces have been drained of their best blood, which has been brought up to the capital.

All that remains of the French army is here. At the lowest average the armed force in Paris amounts to 450,000 men, and there are about 500,000 more from which this force can recruit itself. If, then, the capital does not hold out for two months, she will deserve the contempt of the world--if she does hold out for this period, she will at least have saved her honour, and, to a certain extent, the military reputation of France.

The newspapers are still pursuing the very questionable policy of exaggerating every little affair of the outposts into a victory, and a.s.suring those who read their lucubrations that powerful armies are on the march to raise the siege. The only real military event of any consequence which has taken place has resulted in a Prussian success.

The French were driven back from some half-finished redoubts at Chatillon, and the Prussians now occupy the heights between Sevres and Meudon, from whence, if they establish batteries, they will be able to sh.e.l.l a portion of the town. In the second affair which took place, absurd stories have been repeated respecting the advantages gained by the French; but they are, to say the least, extremely apocryphal, and even were they true they are of small importance. For the last few days the forts have fired upon any Prussian troops that either were or were supposed to be within shot; and the gunboats have attempted to prevent the erection of batteries on the Sevres-Meudon plateau. In point of fact, the siege has not really commenced; and until it is seen how this vast population bears its hardships, how the forts resist the guns which may be brought to bear upon them, and how the armed force conducts itself under fire, it is impossible to speculate upon results.

Considering the utter stagnation in trade, the number of working men out of employment, and the irritation caused by defeat, it must be admitted that the Parisians of all cla.s.ses are behaving themselves well. The rich residents have fled, and left to their poorer neighbours the task of defending their native city. There have been no tumults or disorders, except those caused by the foolish mania of supposing every one who is not known must necessarily be a spy. Political manifestations have taken place before the Hotel de Ville, but the conciliatory policy adopted by the Government has prevented their degenerating into excesses. Public opinion, too, has p.r.o.nounced against them. From what I have heard and observed, I am inclined to think that the majority of the bourgeoisie are in favour of a capitulation, but that they do not venture to say so; and that the majority of the working men are opposed to peace on any terms. They do not precisely know themselves what would be the result of holding out, but they vaguely trust to time, and to the chapter of accidents. In the middle and upper cla.s.ses there are also many who take the same view of the situation. "Let us," they say, "hold out for two months, and the condition of things will in all probability be altered, and if so, as we cannot be worse off, any change must be to our advantage."

Shut up with the Parisians in Paris, I cannot help feeling a good deal of sympathy for them, notwithstanding their childish vanity, their mendacity, and their frivolity. I sincerely trust, therefore, if they do seriously resist their besiegers, that the a.s.surances of the Government that there are ample supplies of food and of ammunition, are not part of the system of official lying which was pursued by their predecessors; and I hope that the grandiloquent boasts and brave words that one hears from morning to night will be followed by brave deeds.

This morning Messenger Johnson was sent off with despatches to England from the British Emba.s.sy. He was provided with a safe-conduct, signed by General Trochu, and a letter to the Commandant of the Fort of Vanves, enjoining him to forward Mr. Johnson under a flag of truce to the Prussian lines. At half-past nine Messenger Johnson, arrayed in a pair of high boots with clanking spurs, the belongings, I presume, of a Queen's messenger, stepped into his carriage, with that "I should like to see any one touch me" air which is the badge of his tribe. His coachman being already drunk, he was accompanied by a second man, who undertook to drive until Jehu had got over the effect of his potations.

I myself have always regarded Queen's messengers as superior beings, to be addressed with awe, and whose progress no one would venture to arrest. Such, however, was not the opinion of the National Guards who were on duty at the gate through which Messenger Johnson sought to leave this beleagured town. In vain Messenger Johnson showed his pa.s.s; in vain he stated that he was a free-born Briton and a Queen's messenger. These suspicious patriots ignored the pa.s.s, and scoffed at the _Civis Roma.n.u.s_. In fact, I tremble as I write it, several of them said they felt somewhat inclined to shoot any Briton, and more particularly a Queen's Messenger, whilst others proposed to prod Messenger Johnson with their bayonets in his tenderest parts. Exit under these circ.u.mstances was impossible. For some time Messenger Johnson sat calm, dignified, and imperturbable in the midst of this uproar, and then made a strategical retreat to the Ministry of War. He was there given an officer to accompany him; he again set forth, and this time he was more fortunate, for he got through the gate, and vanished from our horizon. I called at the Emba.s.sy this afternoon, and found our representative, Mr.

Wodehouse, confident that Messenger Johnson would arrive at his destination. Mr. Wodehouse when I left him was engaged in pacifying a lunatic, who had forced his way into the Emba.s.sy, and who insisted that he was the British Amba.s.sador. I was surprised to learn that there are still at least 3000 of our countrymen and women in Paris. Most of them are in a state of absolute dest.i.tution, some because they have no means, others because they are unable to draw upon the funds in England. Mr.

Herbert has established a species of soup kitchen, so they will not starve until we all do. Mr. Wallace, the heir of Lord Hertford, who had already given the munificent donation of 12,000l. to the Ambulance fund, has also provided funds for their most pressing wants.

In to-day's _Journal des Debats_ M. John Lemoinne points out to his readers that M. Bismarck, in his remarks to M. Jules Favre, expressed the opinion of Germany, and that the expression of his views respecting the necessity of Germany annexing Alsace and Lorraine is not necessarily an insult to France. The war, says M. Lemoinne, never was a war of monarchs, but a war of nations. France as well as the Emperor is responsible for it. It must continue to be, he continues, a war _a outrance_ between two races. The terms of peace proposed by M. Bismarck cannot be accepted by France. The moderate tone and dignified melancholy of this article contrast favourably with that of almost all the leaders in the other papers, and more particularly in those of the ultra-Republican press. In _La France_, a moderate and well-conducted journal, I find the following remarks:--"Paris is the capital of France and of the world. Paris besieged is a beautiful, a surprising spectacle.

The sky is blue, the atmosphere is pure, this is a happy augury, fifteen days of patience on the part of the Parisians, fifteen days to arm in the provinces, and the German army will be irreparably compromised. It will then be unable to cut its way out of the circle of fire which will surround it." When journals of the standing of _La France_ deal in this sort of nonsense it is not surprising that the ex-Imperialist organs, which are endeavouring to curry favour with the mob, are still more absurd. The _Figaro_ concludes two columns of bombast with the following flight:--"But thou, O country, never diest. Bled in all thy veins by the butchers of the North, thy divine head mutilated by the heels of brutes, the Christ of nations, for two months nailed on the cross, never hast thou appeared so great and so beautiful, Thou neededst this martyrdom, O our mother, to know how we love thee. In order that Paris, in which there is a genius which has given her the empire of the world, should fall into the hands of the barbarians, there must cease to be a G.o.d in heaven. As G.o.d she exists, and as G.o.d she is immortal. Paris will never surrender." When it is remembered that this ignorant, vain, foolish population has for nearly twenty years been fed with this sort of stuff, it is not surprising that even to this hour it cannot realise the fact that Paris is in any danger of being captured. The ultra-Republican press is becoming every day more virulent. M. Blanqui, in his organ, _La Patrie en Danger_, after praising the act of a person of the name of Malet, who last February shot an officer who refused to shout "Vive la Republique," thus continues:--"I was reminded of this when the other day I saw defile on the boulevards a regiment of rustic peasants. I raised my hat to salute these soldiers of liberty, but there was no response from them. Malet would have raised the kepi of one of the captains with a bullet, and he would have done well. Let us be without pity. Vive Marat! We will do justice ourselves...." The ultra-Republicans, of the stamp of M. Blanqui and M. Felix Pyat, seem to be under the impression that it is far more important to establish a Republican form of Government in France than to resist the Prussians. In the meetings which they hold every evening they clamour for the election at once of a munic.i.p.ality, because they hope to become themselves members of it, and then to absorb all the power which is now wielded by the Provisional Government. Beyond discrediting themselves by these attempts to disturb the harmony within the walls, which is of such vital importance at the present moment, I do not think that they will do much. I have talked to many working men, and whatever may be their political opinions, they are far too sensible to play the game of the Prussians by weakening the existing Government. After the Prussians perhaps the deluge; but as long as they are before Paris, and the Provisional Government does not capitulate, I do not dread any political disorders. What we may come to, are bread riots. There is already an immense deal of misery, and, as the siege continues and provisions rise in price, it will of course increase.

I was talking this morning to a gentleman who used at one time to play a very important part in public life, who is well acquainted with most of the members of the Government, and who is a man of calm judgment. I was anxious to obtain his opinion upon the situation, and this is a _resume_ of what he told me. "When Jules Favre," he said, "went to Bismarck, he was prepared to agree to the dismantlement of the fortresses of Alsace and Lorraine, the cession of half the fleet, the payment of an indemnity of eighty millions of pounds, and an agreement for a term of years not to have a standing army of more than 200,000 men. A Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly would have ratified these terms. The cession of a portion of the fleet is but tantamount to the payment of money. The conscription is so unpopular that a majority of the nation would have been glad to know that the standing army would henceforward be a small one. As for the fortresses, they have not been taken, and yet they have not arrested the Prussian advance on Paris; consequently their destruction would not seriously weaken the defences of the country." I asked whether Paris would now consent to these terms. "No," he said, "if the Government offered them there would be a revolution. Paris, rightly or wrongly, believes that she will be able to hold out for two months, and that during this time there will be a _levee en ma.s.se_." "And do you share this opinion?" I asked. "I am not of a very sanguine character" he replied; "but I really am now inclined to believe that the Prussians will never enter Paris unless they starve us into a surrender." "Then,"

I said, "I suppose they will starve us out." "I am an old man," he said, "and I always remember Philip's saying, 'Time and I are two,' In two months many things may happen. Winter is coming on. The Prussian army is composed of men engaged in business at home and anxious to return; the North does not love the South, and divisions may arise. The King of Prussia is an old man, and he may die. Without absolutely counting upon a French army raising the siege, there are _levees_ forming in Lyons and elsewhere, and the Germans will find their communications seriously menaced. Russia, too, and Austria may interfere, so I think that we are wise to resist as long as we can." "But if you have to capitulate, what will happen?" I asked. "If we do capitulate, our disaster will be complete," he answered. "I do not antic.i.p.ate disorders; the population of Paris is an intelligent one, it wishes the Government to resist as long as it can, but not to prolong an impossible situation. Paris must do her part in defending the country, she can do no more." "Well," I said, "supposing that the Prussians were to withdraw, and peace were to be concluded on reasonable terms, what do you think would take place?"

"Gambetta, Jules Favre, and the majority of the Parisian Deputies would call a Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly as soon as possible, and resign power into its hands. They are moderate Republicans, but between a Red Republic and a Const.i.tutional Monarchy they would prefer the latter. As practical men, from what I know of them, I am inclined to think that they would be in favour of the Orleanist family--either the Comte de Paris or the Duc d'Aumale." "And would the majority of the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly go with them?" I asked. "I think it would" he replied. "The Orleanist family would mean peace. Of late years Frenchmen have cared very little for military glory; their dream has been to save money. One advantage of our disasters is that it has limited the number of pretenders to the Throne, for after the capitulation of Sedan, neither the army nor the peasants will support a Bonaparte. There will be two parties--the ultra-Republicans, and the advocates of a Const.i.tutional Monarchy under a Prince of the House of Orleans. Unless the friends of the Orleans Princes commit some great fault, they are masters of the situation."

I went down this morning to the Halles Centrales. There was very little going on. _Bonnes_ were coming to market, but most of the booths were untenanted, and the price of vegetables, eggs, and b.u.t.ter was exorbitant. "Why do you complain of me?" said a dealer to a customer--"is it my fault? Curse Badinguet and that wretch of a Bismarck; they choose to fight, so you must pay double for these carrots" The butchers yesterday published an appeal against the maximum; they said that the cost of animals is so great that they positively are losing upon every joint which they sell. A new proclamation of the Mayor has just been issued, announcing that 500 oxen and 4,000 sheep will daily be slaughtered and sold to the butchers at a price to enable them to gain 20 per cent, by retailing meat at the official tariff. I find that, come what may, we have coffee and sugar enough to last many months, so that provided the bread does not fail, we shall take some time to starve out.

This afternoon a dense column of smoke was seen rising in the air in the direction of La Villette, and it gradually covered the town with a dark cloud. The pessimists among the Boulevard quidnuncs insisted that the town had been set on fire by the Prussians; the optimists were convinced that the 10,000, who for some reason or other are supposed to be in a wood, patiently waiting to be roasted, were being burnt. It turns out that some petroleum in the b.u.t.tes de Chaumont caught fire. After burning about two hours, the fire was put out by heaping dirt on it.

The Prussians still occupy the plateau of Meudon, and despatches from the forts say that troops are supposed to be concentrating between Meudon and Sevres. We have come to the conclusion that as the Prussians do not fire upon Grenello and Auteuil, they have neither Krupp nor siege guns. I trust this may prove true. News has been received from Tours; it was brought by an officer who ran the blockade. We are much elated to learn that the result of M. Jules Favre's interview has been posted up throughout France. We believe that the effect of this measure "will be equal to an army." The Post Office informs the public that a regular system of balloons has been organised, and that letters will be received and forwarded to the provinces and abroad, provided they do not weigh above four grammes. A deputation of English and American correspondents waited to-day on M. Jules Favre, to ask him to give them facilities to send their letters by the balloons. This he promised to do. He also half promised to let all correspondents have a pa.s.s, on stating who they are.

The worst of a pa.s.s is, that it is no protection against arrest, for, say your captors, "Prussian spies are so cunning that they would be precisely the persons to have papers, either forged or stolen." Another trouble is, that if you are arrested, you are generally shut up, with half-a-dozen thieves and drunkards, for about twenty-four hours, before a Commissary condescends to inquire into your case. No one as yet has ever troubled me; but the spy mania certainly does not add to the charm of the residence of a stranger in Paris just now. I would rather run the chance of being hit during a bombardment, than affront the certainty of twenty-four hours in a filthy police cell. Suspicion is, no doubt, carried to a ridiculous excess; but it is equally true that unquestionable spies are arrested every day under every sort of disguise. Mr. Washburne told me yesterday that he saw a _soi-disant_ "Invalide" arrested, who turned out to be a regular "spectacled Dutchman."

_September 28th._

Nothing new at the front. We suppose that the enemy are concentrating troops on the Sevres-Meudon plateau, and that they intend to attack on that side. We are confident that the guns of Mont Valerien will prevent the success of this attack. On the opposite side of Paris they are endeavouring to erect batteries; but they are unable to do so on account of the fire of Fort Nogent. It seems to me that we are shouting before we are quite out of the wood; but we are already congratulating ourselves upon having sustained a siege which throws those of Saragossa and Richmond into the shade. If we have not yet been bombarded, we have a.s.sumed "an heroic att.i.tude of expectation;" and if the Prussians have not yet stormed the walls, we have shown that we were ready to repel them if they had. Deprived of our shepherd and our sheep-dogs, we civic sheep have set up so loud a ba-ba, that we have terrified the wolves who wished to devour us. In the impossible event of an ultimate capitulation we shall hang our swords and our muskets over our fire-places, and say to our grandchildren, "I, too, was one of the defenders of Paris." In the meantime, soldiers who have run away when attacked are paraded through the streets with a placard on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, requesting all good citizens to spit upon them. Two courts-martial have been established to judge spies and marauders, and in each of the nine sections there is a court-martial to sit upon peccant National Guards. "The sentence," says the decree, "will at once be executed by the detachment on duty." We are preparing for the worst; in the Place of the Pantheon, and other squares, it is proposed to take up the paving stones, because they will, if left, explode sh.e.l.ls which may strike them. The windows of the Louvre and other public edifices are being filled with sand bags. This morning I was walking along the Rue Lafayette, when I heard a cry "A bas les cigares!" and I found that if I continued to smoke, it was thought that I should set light to some ammunition waggons which were pa.s.sing.

Yesterday evening there was a report, which was almost universally credited, that a revolution had broken out in London, because the English Government had refused to aid Paris in driving back the Prussians. The Parisians find it impossible to understand that the world at large can see little distinction between a French army entering Berlin and a Prussian army entering Paris. Their capital is to them a holy city, and they imagine that the Christian world regards the Prussian attack upon it much as the Mahometan world would regard a bombardment of Mecca. No doubt it will be a shocking thing to bombard a city such as this, filled with women and children; still, being an Englishman, I cannot see that it would be worse than to bombard London.

The newspapers of this morning contain a _precis_ of a letter from "our Fritz" to William "the mystic drunkard." Our Fritz writes to his papa to say that he ought to have accepted peace when it was proffered by Jules Favre. How the contents of the letter are known in Paris is not stated.

But here we know everything. We know that at a council of war held two days ago at Versailles a majority declared that it was impossible to take Paris. We know that the German soldiers are dying of starvation and clothed in rags. We know that they are forced by their officers, against their will, to attack their French brothers. Did not yesterday a National Guard himself take five Prussian prisoners? They were starving, and thankfully accepted a piece of bread. They had a wounded companion in a wheelbarrow, who continually shook his fist in the direction of the "mystic drunkard," and plaintively moaned forth the only French word he knew, "Miserable, miserable!" Did not another National Guard go into a house recently occupied by "Bavarians," and find the following words written on a shutter--"Poor Frenchmen, we love you: they force us to fight against you?" I believe all this, and many other strange facts, because I see them in print in the newspapers. Can it possibly be that I am over-credulous? Am I wrong, too, in believing that France is rising _en ma.s.se_, that Moltke did not understand his business in advancing on Paris, and that he will be crushed by the armies of the Loire and a dozen other places--if, indeed, our gallant heroes congregated in Paris give their brethren outside time to share in the triumph of defeating him? _En attendant_, we eat, drink, and are reasonably merry; our defenders mount guard, and drill when they are off guard. Our wary Mobiles outside not only refuse to allow Prussians to pa.s.s, but such is their vigilance, they generally arrest officers of any regiment except their own who come within their ken. These worthy fellows will, I believe, fight with bravery. The working men, too, are engaged in heaping up barricades, and are ready to allow themselves to be killed and their landlords' houses to be blown up rather than surrender. The sailors in the forts are prepared to hold them like ships against all comers. The "infantry of the marine" is commanded by an old tar who stands no nonsense. A few days ago he published an order complaining that the marines "undulated under fire." Some of his officers went to him as a deputation to protest against this slur on them and their men; but he cut their remonstrances short by immediately cashiering the spokesman. To-day he announces that if his men are supplied with drink within the limits of his command he will burn down all the pothouses. It is greatly to be deplored that the determined spirit of this Admiral does not animate all his brother commanders; they are perpetually engaged in discussing with those who are under their orders, and appear to be afraid to put down insubordination with a high hand. If ever they venture upon any act of rigour, they are called upon by the Ultra press to justify it, and they generally do so in a lengthy letter.

I have been, as the Americans say, much exercised of late respecting certain persons whom I have seen strolling about the streets, avoiding as much as possible their species. Whenever anyone looked at them they sneaked away with deprecating glances. They are dressed in a sort of pea-jacket, with hoods, black trousers, and black caps, and their general appearance was a cross between a sailor and a monk. I have at length discovered with surprise that these retiring innocents are the new sergents-de-ville of M. Keratry, who are daily denounced by the Ultras as ferocious wolves eager to rend and devour all honest citizens.

If this be true, I can only say that they are well disguised in sheep's clothing.

Letters from Paris, if ever they do get to London, must necessarily be so dull, that they can hardly repay the trouble of reading them. Life here is about as lively as life on board a ship. The two main subjects of conversation, the military preparations within the town, and the amount of food, are in honour tabooed to correspondents. With respect to the former I will only say, that if the Prussians do carry the forts and the enceinte, they will not have taken Paris; with regard to the latter, I can state that we shall not be starved out for some time. Besides the cattle which have been acc.u.mulated, we have 90,000 horses; and although a cab horse may not taste as good as Southdown mutton, I have no doubt that Parisian cooking will make it a very palatable dish for hungry men; there are, too, a great many dogs, and the rats have not yet left the sinking ship. As for coffee and sugar we have enough to last for six months; and, unless the statistics of the Government are utterly worthless, come what may we shall not lack bread for many a day.

The Rump of the Corps Diplomatique has held a second meeting, and a messenger has been sent to Bismarck to know--1st, whether he means to bombard the city; 2nd, whether, if he does, he intends to give the usual twenty-four hours' notice. Diplomates are little better than old women when they have to act on an emergency. Were it not for Mr. Washburne, who was brought up in the rough-and-ready life of the Far West, instead of serving an apprenticeship in Courts and Government offices, those who are still here would be perfectly helpless. They come to him at all moments, and although he cannot speak French, for all practical purposes he is worth more than all his colleagues put together. Lord Lyons would, I believe, have remained, had he not been over persuaded by timid colleagues, who were ordered to do as he did. It is a great pity that he did not act according to his own judgment; but Republics, we know, are not in good odour with courtiers. As for that poor creature Metternich, he was utterly demoralized. He was more of a Chamberlain of Badinguet than an Amba.s.sador, and, of course, when his friend disappeared, he took the earliest opportunity to follow his example.

_September 29th._

We still are cut off from the outer world, but neither "the world forgetting," nor, we imagine, "by the world forgot." The inhabitants of the "Mecca of civilization" are still, like Sister Anne, looking out for some one to come to their a.s.sistance. I am utterly sick and tired of the eternal brag and bombast around me. Let the Parisians gain some success, and then celebrate it as loudly as they please: but why, in the name of common sense, will they rejoice over victories yet to come? "We are preserving," they say, "a dignified expectative att.i.tude." Mr. Micawber put the thing in more simple vernacular when, he said that he was waiting for something to turn up. "First catch your hare" is a piece of advice which our patriots here would scoff at. They have not yet caught the Prussians, but they have already, by a flight of imagination, cooked and eaten them. Count Moltke may as well--if I am to believe one quarter of what I hear--like the American c.o.o.n, come down. In a question of military strategy between the grocers of Paris and the Prussian generals I should have thought that the odds were considerably in favour of the latter, but I am told that this is not so, and that in laying siege to Paris they are committing a mistake for which a schoolboy would be deservedly whipped. If you eliminate the working-cla.s.s element, which has not been corrupted by the Imperial system, the population of this town is much what I imagine that of Constantinople to have been when it was taken by the Turks. They are Greeks of the lower empire. Monsieur sticks his kepi on one side of his head, and struts and swaggers along the Boulevard as though he were a bantam c.o.c.k. We have lost the _pet.i.ts creves_ who formed so agreeable an element in society, but they have been replaced by the military dandy, a being, if possible, still more offensive. This creature mounts some sorry screw and parades the Boulevard and the Champs Elysees, frowning dismally upon the world in general, and twirling his moustache with the one hand, whilst he holds on to the saddle with the other. His sword is of the longest, his waist is of the tightest, and his boots are of the brightest. His like is only to be seen in England when the _Battle of Waterloo_ is played at Astley's, but his seat is not as good as that of the equestrian warriors of that establishment. As he slowly paces along he gazes slyly to see how many people are looking at him, and it must be owned that those who do see him, vastly admire him. What manner of beings these admirers are may be imagined from their idol. No contrast can be greater than that which exists between the Parisian Bobadils and the Provincial Mobiles.

The latter are quiet and orderly, eager to drill and without a vestige of bl.u.s.ter--these poor peasants are of a very different stuff from the emasculated, conceited sc.u.m which has palmed itself off on Europe as representative Frenchmen. The families with whom they lodge speak with wonder of their sobriety, their decency, and their simple ways, and in their hearts almost despise them because they do not ravish their daughters or pillage their cellars; and neither swear every half-hour to die for their country, nor yell the "Ma.r.s.eillaise." If Paris be saved, it will be thanks to them and to the working men of the capital. But it will be the old _sic vos non vobis_ story; their brave deeds and undemonstrative heroism will be forgotten, and Jules and Alphonse, the dandies and braggarts of the Boulevard, will swear to their own heroism.

I trust that the Prussians will fail to take Paris, because I think that the French are right to fight on rather than submit to the dismemberment of their country; and because I prefer a Republic to a Monarchy where a King reigns by right divine. But when I read the bombastic articles in the newspapers--when I see the insane conceit and the utter ignorance of those with whom I am thrown--when I find them really believing that they are heroes because they are going, they say, to win battles, it is difficult to entertain any great sympathy for them. How utterly must poor old Badinguet, before whom they cringed for years--who used them, bought them, and made his market out of their vanity, their ignorance, and their love of theatrical claptrap, despise them, as he dreams again through life's dream in the gardens of his German prison. They call him now a "sinister scoundrel" and a "lugubrious stage player." But he was their master for many a long year, and they owe their emanc.i.p.ation from his yoke to Prussian arms and not to themselves.

A committee of "subsistence" has been established. The feud between the butchers and the public still continues, and most of the meat stalls are closed. The grocers, too, are charging absurd prices for their goods.

_La Liberte_ suggests that their clients should do themselves justice, and one of these mornings, unless these gentry abate their prices, some grocer will be found hanging before his door. Although provisions are plentiful, the misery is very great. Beggars increase in number every day--they are like one of the plagues of Egypt. I was taking a cup of coffee this morning before a cafe, and I counted twenty-three beggars who asked me for money whilst I was sitting there. We still derive much comfort from caricaturing Badinguet, William, and Bismarck. The latest effort represents Badinguet and William as Robert Macaire and Bertrand.

Another represents Badinguet eating an eagle. "Coquin," says William, "what are you doing with your eagle?" "Eating it," replies Badinguet; "what else can I do with it?" Little statuettes, too, of the "two friends," Badinguet and William, are in great request. William, with an immense moustache, scowls at Badinguet, who humbly kneels before him.

M. Jules Favre, in reply to the English press deputation, sent last night to say that each correspondent must make a personal application to General Trochu. I know what that means already. All I ask is that my letters should be put up in a balloon. As for pa.s.ses, I have one already, and it has not been of the slightest service to me. _Les Nouvelles_ heads an article "English Spies," and proposes that to simplify the question of whether they are spies or not, all English in Paris should at once be shot. I cannot say that I personally have found any ill-feeling to exist against me because I am an Englishman.

Yesterday afternoon I was in a crowd, and some one suggested that I was a spy; I immediately mounted on a chair and explained that I was a "journaliste Anglais," and pointed out to my friends that they ought to be obliged to me for remaining here. "If any one doubts me," I added, "let us go to the nearest commissary." No one did doubt me, and fifty patriots immediately shook hands with me. The French people are apt to form hasty judgments sometimes, and to act on them still more hastily, but if one can get them to listen for a moment, they are reasonable, and soon their natural good nature a.s.serts itself. The zealous but well-intended Mobiles are the most dangerous, for they shoot you first and then apologise to your corpse. An order is placarded to-day of Governor Trochu's, announcing that anyone trying to pa.s.s the lines will be sent before the Courts Martial, or if he or she runs away when ordered to stop, will be shot on the spot. This latter clause allows a very great lat.i.tude for zeal, more particularly as the "lines" just now are little more than a geographical expression. Their Emperor is a prisoner, the enemy is thundering at their gates, they are shut up here like rats in a hole; they have been vanquished in the only engagement they have had with their besiegers, and yet the Parisians believe that, compared with them, the Germans are an inferior race, and, like the slave before Marius, will shrink abashed before the majesty of Paris.

"If we," say their newspapers, "the wisest, the best, the n.o.blest of human beings, have to succ.u.mb to this horde of barbarians that environ us, we shall cease to believe in the existence of a Providence."

The movement on the part of the "Ultras" to elect at once a munic.i.p.ality is gaining strength. Yesterday several chiefs of the faubourg battalions of the National Guard interviewed Jules Ferry on the subject. Ledru Rollin has declared himself in favour of it, and this morning there are evidences that the Government is inclined to give way to the pressure, for a decree is published in the _Journal Officiel_ ordering a registration of voters. The worst of Frenchmen is that, no matter how patriotic each one may be, he is convinced that the interests of his country require that he should be one of its rulers. The men of '48 who have returned from exile are surprised that they are almost forgotten by the present generation, which regards them as interesting historical relics, and puts its faith in new G.o.ds. At the clubs every evening the Government is denounced for refusing to admit into its ranks this or that patriot, or adjourning the munic.i.p.al elections, and for not sending revolutionary agents into the provinces. A newspaper this morning makes the excellent suggestion that M. Blanqui, M.F. Pyat, and their princ.i.p.al adherents should be invited to proceed at once to the provinces in a balloon, invested with the rank of Government agents. "They cannot," it adds, "do so much harm there as they are doing here; and then, too, the balloon may burst." Personally, I should be glad to see a moderate Republic established here, for I regard a Court as a waste of public money; but it seems to me that Republicans should remember that it is for the nation, and not for them, to decide what shall henceforward be the form of government.

CHAPTER IV

_September 30th._

We are still beating our tom-toms like the Chinese, to frighten away the enemy, and our braves still fire off powder at invisible Uhlans. The Prussians, to our intense disgust, will not condescend even to notice us. We jeer at them, we revile them, and yet they will not attack us.

What they are doing we cannot understand. They appear to have withdrawn from the advanced positions which they held. We know that they are in the habit of making war in a thoroughly ungentlemanly manner, and we cannot make up our minds whether our "att.i.tude" is causing them to hesitate, or whether they are not devising some new trick to take us by surprise. That they are starving, that their communications with Germany are cut off, that their leaders are at loggerheads, that the Army of the Loire will soon be here to help us to demolish them, we have not the slightest doubt. The question is no longer whether Paris will be taken--that we have solved already--it is whether the Prussians will be able to get back to the Rhine. We are thankful that Bismarck did not accept Jules Favre's offer of a money indemnity. We would not give a hundred francs now to ensure peace or an armistice. I went this morning into a shop, the proprietor of which, a bootmaker, I have long known, and I listened with interest to the conversation of this worthy man with some of his neighbours who had dropped in to have a gossip, and to congratulate him on his martial achievements, as he had been on guard in a bastion. We first discussed why the Army of the Loire had not arrived, and we came to the conclusion that it was engaged in rallying Bazaine.

"I should like to read your English newspapers now," said one; "your _Tims_ told us we ought to cede Alsace and Lorraine, but its editor must now acknowledge that Paris is invincible." I told him that I felt convinced that he did so regularly every morning. "No peace," shouted a little tailor, who had been prancing about on an imaginary steed, killing imaginary Prussians, "we have made a pact with death; the world knows now what are the consequences of attacking us." The all-absorbing question of subsistence then came up, and some one remarked that beef would give out sooner than mutton. "We must learn," observed a jolly-looking grocer, "to vanquish the prejudices of our stomachs. Even those who do not like mutton must make the sacrifice of their taste to their country." I mildly suggested that perhaps in a few weeks the stomachs which had a prejudice against rats would have to overcome it.

At this the countenance of the gossips fell considerably, when the bootmaker, after mysteriously closing the door, whispered, "A secret was confided to me this morning by an intimate friend of General Trochu.

There is a tunnel which connects Paris with the provinces, and through it flocks and herds are entering the town." This news cheered us up amazingly. My bootmaker's wife came in to help him off with his military accoutrements; so, with a compliment about Venus disarming Mars, I withdrew in company with an American, who had gone into the shop with me. This American is a sort of transatlantic Bunsby. He talks little, but thinks much. His sole observation to me as we walked away was this, "They will squat, sir, mark my words, they will squat." I received this oracular utterance with respect, and I leave it to others to solve its meaning, I am myself a person of singular credulity, but even I sometimes ask myself whether all I hear and read can be true. Was there really, as all the newspapers this morning inform me, a meeting last Sunday at London of 400,000 persons, who were addressed by eminent M.P's, and by the princ.i.p.al merchants and owners of manufactories in England, at which resolutions were adopted denouncing the Queen, and calling upon Mr. Gladstone either to retire from office, or to declare war against Prussia?