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 st.u.r.dy 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-a-Mousson when on parole. He a.s.serts 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 Ferrieres. 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 emanc.i.p.ate 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'Imperatrice. 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 gra.s.s 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 a.s.sault 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.

CHAPTER VIII.

_October 19th._

A despatch is published this morning from M. Gambetta, giving a very hopeful account of things in the provinces. As, however, this gentleman on his arrival at Tours issued a proclamation in which he announced that there were one-third more guns in Paris than it is even pretended by the Government that there are, I look with great suspicion upon his utterances. The latest declaration of the Government differs essentially from that which was made at the commencement of the siege. A friend of mine pointed out to one of its members this discrepancy, when he replied that the Government had purposely understated their resources at first.

This may be all very fair in war, but it prevents a reasonable person placing the slightest confidence in anything official. Dr. Johnson did not believe in the earthquake at Lisbon for one year after the news reached London, and I shall not believe in the resources of the provinces until they prove their existence by raising the siege. I am very curious to discover what is thought of Paris by the world. There is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous. If really by holding out for several months the situation can be altered for the better, the Parisians are right to do so, but if the Government is only humbugging them with false intelligence, if they are simply destroying their own villages in the neighbourhood, and exhausting their resources within the town, whilst a Prussian army is living at the cost of their country, it seems to me that they are acting like silly schoolboys rather than wise men, and that there really is something in the sneer of Bismarck that the Deputies of Paris are determined, _coute qui coute_, to preserve the power with which the hazards of a revolution invested them.

The newspapers this morning are full of articles lauding M. Jules Favre's circular, and reviling the proposals of Bismarck. The following extract from the _Liberte_ will serve as an example of their usual tone:--"A word of grat.i.tude to the great citizen, to Jules Favre. Let him know that his honest, eloquent, and brave words give us strength, dry our tears, and cure our wounds. Poor and dear France! Provinces crushed and towns blockaded, populations ruined, and thou, O Paris, once the city of the fairies, now become the city of the grave times of antiquity, raise thy head, be confident, be strong. It is thy heart that has spoken, it is thy soul unconquered, invincible, the soul of thy country that has appealed to the world and told it the truth." The _Liberte_, after this preliminary burst, goes on to say, that it knew before that Bismarck was everything that was bad, but that it has now discovered that, besides possessing every other vice, he is a liar, and if there is one thing that France and the _Liberte_ cannot endure, it is a man who does not tell the truth. If the Prussians are not driven out of France by words, it certainly will be a proof that mere words have very little effect in shaping the destinies of nations.

Each person now receives 100 grammes of meat per diem, the system of distribution being that every one has to wait on an average two hours before he receives his meat at the door of a butcher's shop. I dine habitually at a bouillon; there horse-flesh is eaten in the place of beef, and cat is called rabbit. Both, however, are excellent, and the former is a little sweeter than beef, but in other respects much like it; the latter something between rabbit and squirrel, with a flavour all its own. It is delicious. I recommend those who have cats with philoprogenitive proclivities, instead of drowning the kittens, to eat them. Either smothered in onions or in a ragout they are excellent. When I return to London I shall frequently treat myself to one of these domestic animals, and ever feel grateful to Bismarck for having taught me that cat served up for dinner is the right animal in the right place.

I went last night to the Theatre of the Porte St. Martin; it has become the rendezvous of the optimists, and speeches were delivered to prove that everything was for the best in the best of worlds, and poetry was recited to prove that the Prussians must eventually be defeated. The chair was taken by M. Coquerel, who with great truth said that Paris had fallen so low that the siege might be considered almost a blessing, and that the longer it lasted, the more likely was it to aid in the work of regeneration, which alone can make this world a globe of honourable men and honest women. It will, indeed, do the Parisians all the good in the world to keep guard on the ramparts instead of doing nothing but gossip till one or two in the morning at cafes.

General Trochu, that complete letter-writer, to-day replies to General Ducrot, telling him that his proclamation respecting his evasion from Pont-a-Mousson is most satisfactory.

The military events of this week have been unimportant. The forts have continued silent, and reconnaissances have been made here and there. The faubourgs, too, have been quiet. Everything is being done to make the siege weigh as little upon the population as possible. Thus, for instance, few lamps are lit in the streets, but the shops and cafes are still a blaze of light; they close, however, early. Here is rather a good story; I can vouch for its truth. The Government recently visited the Tuileries. They were received by the governor, whom they found established in a suite of apartments. He showed them over the palace, and then offered them luncheon. They then incidentally asked him who had nominated him to the post he so ably filled. "Myself," he replied; "just by the same authority as you nominated yourselves, and no less." There was heavy firing all through the night in the direction of Vannes.

M. Mottu, the mayor of the 11th arrondiss.e.m.e.nt, who had entered into a campaign against crucifixes, has been removed. The Government were "interviewed" last night by the chiefs of thirty battalions of Gardes Nationales of the 11th arrondiss.e.m.e.nt on the subject. The deputation was a.s.sured that M. Mottu would be reinstated in his mairie if he would promise to moderate his zeal.

_October 20th._

"The clients of M. Poiret are informed that they can only have one plate of meat," was the terrible writing which stared me on the wall, when I went to dine at my favourite bouillon--and, good heavens, what a portion it was! Not enough for the dinner of a fine lady who has previously gorged herself at a private luncheon. If meat is, as we are told, so plentiful that it will last for five weeks more, the mode in which it is distributed is radically bad. While at a large popular restaurant, where hundreds of the middle cla.s.ses dine, each person only gets enough cat or horse to whet his appet.i.te for more; in the expensive cafes on the Boulevards, feasts worthy of Lucullus are still served to those who are ready to part with their money with the proverbial readiness of fools.

Far more practical, my worthy Republicans, would it be to establish "liberte, egalite, fraternite" in the cook shops, than to write the words in letters of gold over your churches. In every great city there always is much want and misery; here, although succour is supposed to be afforded to all who require it, many I fear are starving owing to that bureaucrat love of cla.s.sification which is the curse of France. After my meagre dinner, I was strolling along the quays near the river, _l'estomac_ as _leger_ as M. Ollivier's heart, when I saw a woman leaning over the parapet. She turned as I was pa.s.sing her, and the lamp from the opposite gate of the Tuileries shone on her face. It was honest and homely, but so careworn, so utterly hopeless, that I stopped to ask her if she was ill. "Only tired and hungry'" she replied; "I have been walking all day, and I have not eaten since yesterday." I took her to a cafe and gave her some bread and coffee, and then she told me her story.

She was a peasant girl from Franche Comte, and had come to Paris, where she had gone into service. But she had soon tired of domestic servitude, and for the last year she had supported herself by sewing waistcoats in a great wholesale establishment. At the commencement of the siege she had been discharged, and for some days she found employment in a Government workshop, but for the last three weeks she had wandered here and there, vainly asking for work. One by one she had sold every article of dress she possessed, except the scanty garments she wore, and she had lived upon bread and celery. The day before she had spent her last sou, and when I saw her she had come down to the river, starving and exhausted, to throw herself into it. "But the water looked so cold, I did not dare," she said. Thus spoke the grisette of Paris, very different from the gay, thoughtless being of French romance, who lives in a garret, her window shrouded with flowers, is adored by a student, and earns enough money in a few hours to pa.s.s the rest of the week dancing, gossiping, and amusing herself. As I listened to her, I felt ashamed of myself for repining because I had only had one plate of meat.

The hopeless, desolate condition of this poor girl is that of many of her cla.s.s to-day. But why should they complain? Is not King William the instrument of Heaven, and is he not engaged in a holy cause? That Kings should fight and that seamstresses should weep is in the natural order of things. Frenchmen and Frenchwomen only deserve to be ma.s.sacred or starved if they are so lost to all sense of what is just as to venture to struggle against the dismemberment of their country, and do not understand how meet and right it is that their fellow-countrymen in Alsace should be converted into German subjects.

General Vinoy, who was in the Crimea, and who takes a somewhat larger view of things than the sententious Trochu, has been good enough to furnish me with a pa.s.s, which allows me to wander unmolested anywhere within the French outposts. "If you attempt to pa.s.s them," observes the General, "you will be shot by the sentinels, in obedience to my orders."

A general order also permits anyone to go as far as the line of the forts. Yesterday I chartered a cab and went to Boulogne, a village on the Seine, close by the wood of the same name. We drove through a portion of the Bois; it contained more soldiers than trees. Line and artillerymen were camped everywhere, and every fifty yards a group was engaged in skinning or cutting up a dead horse. The village of Boulogne had been deserted by almost all the inhabitants. Across some of the streets leading to the river there were barricades, others were open. In most of the houses there were soldiers, and others were in rifle-pits and trenches. A brisk exchange of shots was going on with the Prussians, who were concealed in the opposite houses of St. Cloud. I cannot congratulate the enemy upon the accuracy of their aim, for although several evilly disposed Prussians took a shot at my cab, their bullets whistled far above our heads, and after one preliminary kick, the old cab-horse did not even condescend to notice them. As for the cabman, he was slightly in liquor, and at one of the cross-streets leading to the river he got off his box, and performed a war-dance to show his contempt for the skill of the enemies of his nation. In the Grand Place there was a long barricade, and behind it men, women, and children were crouching watching the opposite houses, from which every now and then a puff of smoke issued, followed by a sharp report. The soldiers were very orderly and good-natured; as I had a gla.s.s, some of them took me up into the garrets of a deserted house, from the windows of which we tried in vain to espy our a.s.sailants. My friends fired into several of the houses from which smoke issued, but with what effect I do not know. The amus.e.m.e.nt of the place seemed to be to watch soldiers running along an open road which was exposed to fire for about thirty yards. Two had been killed in the morning, but this did not appear in any way to diminish the zest of the sport. At least twenty soldiers ran the gauntlet whilst I was there, but not one of them was wounded. As well as I could make out, the damage done to St. Cloud by the bombs of Mont Valerien is very inconsiderable.

A portion of the Palace and a few houses were in ruins, but that was all. There is a large barrack there, which the soldiers a.s.sured me is lit up every night, and why this building has not been sh.e.l.led, neither they nor I could understand. The newspapers say that the Prussians have guns on the unfinished redoubt of Brinborion; it was not above 1,000 yards from where I was standing, but with my gla.s.s I could not make out that there were any there. Several officers with whom I spoke said that it was very doubtful. On my return, my cabman, who had got over his liquor, wanted double his fare. "For myself," he said, "I am a Frenchman, and I should scorn to ask for money for running a risk of being shot by a _canaille_ of a German, but think of my horse;" and then he patted the faithful steed, whom I may possibly have the pleasure to meet again, served up in a sauce piquante. The newspapers, almost without exception, protest against the mediation of England and Russia, which they imagine is offered by these Powers. "It is too late," says the organ of M. Picard. "Can France accept a mediation which will s.n.a.t.c.h from her the enemy at the moment when victory is certain?"

_October 25th._

Has General Trochu a plan?--if so, what is it? It appears to me, as Sir Robert Peel would have said, that he has only three courses to pursue: first, to do nothing, and to capitulate as soon as he is starved out; this would, I reckon, bring the siege to an end in about two months: secondly, to fight a battle with all his disposable forces, which might be prolonged for several days, and thus risk all upon one great venture: thirdly, to cut his way out of Paris with the line and the Mobiles. The two united would form a force of about 150,000 men, and supported by 500 cannon, it may reasonably be expected that the Prussian lines would be pierced. In this case a junction might be effected with any army which exists in the provinces, and the combined force might throw itself upon the enemy's line of communications. In the meantime Paris would be defended by its forts and its ramparts. The former would be held by the sailors and the mobilized National Guards of Paris, the latter by the Sedentary Garde Nationale. Which of these courses will be adopted, it is impossible to say; the latter, however, is the only one which seems to present even a chance of ultimate success. With respect to the second, I do not think that the Mobiles could stand for days or even for hours against the artillery and musketry force of their opponents. They are individually brave, but like all raw troops they become excited under fire, shoot wildly, then rush forward in order to engage in a hand-to-hand encounter, and break before they reach the Prussian lines.

In this respect the troops of the line are not much better. The Prussian tactics, indeed, have revolutionized the whole system of warfare, and the French, until they have learnt them, will always go to the wall.

Every day that this siege lasts, convinces me more and more that General Trochu is not the right man in the right place. He writes long-winded letters, utters Spartan aphorisms, and complains of his colleagues, his generals, and his troops. The confidence which was felt in him is rapidly diminishing. He is a good, respectable, honest man, without a grain of genius, or of that fierce indomitable energy which sometimes replaces it. He would make a good Minister of War in quiet times, but he is about as fit to command in the present emergency as Mr. Cardwell would be. His two princ.i.p.al military subordinates, Vinoy and Ducrot, are excellent Generals of Division, but nothing more. As for his civilian colleagues, they are one and all hardly more practical than Professor Fawcett. Each has some crotchet of his own, each likes to dogmatize and to speechify, and each considers the others to be idiots, and has a small following of his own, which regards him as a species of divinity.

They are philosophers, orators, and legists, but they are neither practical men nor statesmen. I understand that General Trochu says, that the most sensible among them is Rochefort.

We want to know what has become of Sergeant Truffet. As the Prussians are continually dinning it into Europe that the French fire on their flags of truce, the following facts, for the truth of which I can vouch, may, perhaps, account for it; if, indeed, it has ever occurred. A few days ago, some French soldiers, behind a barricade a little in advance of the Moulin Saqui, saw a Bavarian crawl towards them, waving a white flag. When he stopped, the soldiers called to him to come forward, but he remained, still waving his flag. Sergeant Truffet then got over the barricade, and went towards him. Several Germans immediately rushed forward, and sergeant, flag, and Germans, disappeared within the enemy's lines. The next day, General Vinoy sent an officer to protest against this gross violation of the laws of war, and to demand that the sergeant should be restored. The officer went to Creteil, thence he was sent to Choisy le Roi, where General Jemplin (if this is how he spells his name) declined to produce the sergeant, who, he said, was a deserter, or to give any explanation as to his whereabouts. Now Truffet, as his companions can testify, had not the remotest intention to desert. He was a good and steady soldier. He became a prisoner, through a most odious stratagem, and a Prussian general, although the facts have been officially brought before him, has refused to release him. The Germans are exceedingly fond of trumping up charges against the French, but they have no right to expect to be believed, until they restore to us our Truffet, and punish the Bavarians who entrapped him by means of a false flag of truce.

The subscription for the 1500 cannon hangs fire. The question, however, whether both cannon and Cha.s.sepots can be made in Paris is solved, as the private workshops are making daily deliveries of both to Government.

At the commencement of the siege it was feared that there would not be enough projectiles; these, also, are now being manufactured. For the last week, the forts have been firing at everything and anything. The admirals in command say that the sailors bore themselves so, that they are obliged to allow them to fire more frequently than is absolutely necessary.

I have been endeavouring to form an estimate of the absolute cost in money of the siege, per diem. The National Guard receive in pay 24,000l., rations to themselves and families amount to about 10,000l., the Mobiles do not cost less than 30,000l. Unproductive industries connected with the war, about 15,000l. Rations to the dest.i.tute, 5000l.

When, in addition to these items, it is remembered that every productive industry is at a standstill, it is no exaggeration to say that Paris is eating its head off at the rate of 200,000l. per diem.

Flourens has been re-elected commander-in-chief of five battalions of Belleville National Guards. The Government, however, declines to recognize this c.u.mulative command. The "Major" writes a letter to-day to the _Combat_ denouncing the Government, and demanding that the Republic "should decree victory," and shoot every unsuccessful general. Blanqui says that he lost his election as commander of a battalion, through the intrigues of the Jesuits. It was proposed on Sat.u.r.day, at a club, to make a demonstration before the Hotel de Ville, in favour of M. Mottu, the Mayor of the eleventh arrondiss.e.m.e.nt, who was dismissed on account of his crusade against crucifixes. An amendment, however, was carried, putting it off until famine gives the friends of a revolution new adherents. Crucifixes were denounced by an orator in the course of the evening, as "impure nudities, which ought not to be suffered in public places, on account of our daughters."

The great meat question is left to every arrondiss.e.m.e.nt to decide according to its own lights. As a necessary consequence of this, while in one part of Paris it takes six hours to get a beef-steak, in others, where a better system of distribution prevails, each person can obtain his ration of 100 grammes without any extraordinary delay. b.u.t.ter now costs 18fr. the pound. Milk is beginning to get scarce. The "committee of alimentation" recommends mothers to nourish their babies from what Mr. d.i.c.kens somewhere calls "nature's founts."

I had a conversation yesterday with one of the best writers on the French press, and I asked him to tell me what were the views of the sensible portion of the population respecting the situation. He replied, "We always were opposed to the Empire; we knew what the consequences eventually would be. The deluge has overtaken us, and we must accept the consequences. In Paris, few who really are able to form a just estimate of our resources, can expect that the siege can have any but a disastrous termination. Everyone, however, has lost so much, that he is indifferent to what remains. We feel that Paris would be disgraced if at least by a respectable defence she does not show that she is ready to sacrifice herself for France." "But," I said, "you are only putting off the inevitable hour at a heavy cost to yourself." "Perhaps," he replied, "we are not acting wisely, but you must take into consideration our national weaknesses; it is all very well to say that we ought to treat now, and endeavour to husband our resources, so as to take our revenge in twenty years, but during that twenty years we should not venture to show ourselves abroad, or hold up our heads at home." "In the end, however, you must treat," I said. "Never," he replied. "Germany may occupy Alsace and Lorraine, but we will never recognise the fact that they are no longer French." "I hardly see," I said, "that this will profit you." "Materially, perhaps not," he answered, "but at least we shall save our honour." "And what, pray, will happen after the capitulation of Paris?" "Practically," he replied, "there is no Government in France, there will not be for about two years, and then, probably, we shall have the Orleans princes." The opinions enunciated by this gentleman are those of most of the _doctrinaires_. They appear to be without hope, without a policy, and without any very definite idea how France is to get out of the singularly false position in which the loss of her army, and the difficulty of her people to accept the inevitable consequences, have placed her. My own impression is, that the provinces will in the end insist upon peace at any cost, as a preliminary step towards some regular form of government, and the withdrawal of the German troops, whose prolonged occupation of department after department must exhaust the entire recuperative resources of the country.

_October 27th._

At an early hour yesterday morning, about 100 English congregated at the gate of Charenton _en route_ for London. There were with them about 60 Americans, and 20 Russians, who also were going to leave us. Imagine the indignation of these "Cives Romani," when they were informed that, while the Russians and the Americans would be allowed to pa.s.s the Prussian outposts, owing to the list of the English wishing to go not having reached Count Bismarck in time, they would have to put off their journey to another day. The guard had literally to be turned out to prevent them from endeavouring to force their way through the whole German army. I spoke this morning to an English butler who had made one of the party.

This worthy man evidently was of opinion that the end of the world is near at hand, when a butler, and a most respectable person, is treated in this manner. "Pray, sir, may I ask," he said, with bitter scorn, "whether her Majesty is still on the throne in England?" I replied, "I believed that she was." "Then," he went on, "has this Count Bismarck, as they call him, driven the British n.o.bles out of the House of Lords?

Nothing which this feller does would surprise me now." Butler, Charge d'Affaires, and the other _cives_, are, I understand, to make another start, as soon as the "feller" condescends to answer a letter which has been forwarded to him, asking him to fix a day for their departure.

We are daily antic.i.p.ating an attack on the Southern side of the city.

The Prussians are close into the forts on their line from Meudon to Choisy-le-Roi. Two days ago it was supposed that they were dragging their siege guns to batteries which they had prepared for them, notwithstanding our fire, which until now we proudly imagined had rendered it impossible for them to put a spade to the ground. Our generals believe, I know not with what truth, that the Prussians have only got twenty-six siege guns. If they are on the plateau of Meudon, and if they carry, as is a.s.serted, nine kilometres, a large portion of the city on the left bank of the Seine will be under fire. On our side we have approached so close to the villages along the Prussian line in this direction that one side or the other must in self-defence soon make an attack. The newspapers of yesterday morning having a.s.serted that Choisy-le-Roi was no longer occupied by the enemy, I went out in the afternoon to inspect matters. I got to the end of the village of Vitry, where the advanced posts, to whom I showed my pa.s.s, asked me where I wanted to go. I replied, to Choisy-le-Roi. A corporal pointed to a house at some distance beyond where we were standing. "The Prussians are in that house," he said. "If you like, you can go forward and look at them; they are not firing." So forward I went. I was within a hundred yards of the house when some Francs-tireurs, hid in the field to the right of the road, commenced firing, and the Fort d'Ivry from behind opened fire.

The Prussians on their side replied with their needle-guns. I got behind a tree, feeling that my last hour was come. There I remained about half an hour, for whenever I moved a bullet came whizzing near me. At last a thought, a happy thought, occurred to me. I rolled myself into a ditch, which ran alongside the road, and down this ditch I crept until I got close to the barricade, over which I climbed with more haste than dignity. The soldiers were greatly amazed at my having really believed a statement which I had read in the newspapers, and their observations respecting the Parisians and their "organs" were far from complimentary.

On my way back by Montrouge, I stopped to gossip with some Breton Mobiles. They, too, spoke with the utmost scorn of the patriots within the walls. "We are kept here," they said, "to defend these men, all of whom have arms like us; they live comfortably inside the ramparts, whilst the provinces are being ravaged." These Breton Mobiles are the idols of the hour. They are to the Republic what the Zouaves were to the Empire. They are very far, however, from reciprocating the admiration which the Republicans entertain for them. They are brave, devout, credulous peasants, care far more for Brittany than they do for Paris, and regard the individuals who rule by the grace of Paris with feelings the reverse of friendly. The army and the Mobiles, indeed, like being cooped up here less and less every day, and they cannot understand why the 300,000 National Guards who march and drill in safety inside the capital do not come outside and rough it like them. While I was talking to these Bretons one of them blew his nose with his handkerchief. His companions apologised to me for this piece of affectation. "He is from Finisterre," they said. In Finisterre, it appears, luxury is enervating the population, and they blow their noses with handkerchiefs; in other parts of Brittany, where the hardy habits of a former age still prevail, a more simple method is adopted.

The volunteering from the National Guard for active service has been a failure. 40,000 men were required; not 7,000 have sent in their names.

The Ultras say that it is a scheme to get rid of them; the bourgeoisie say nothing, but volunteer all the less. The fact is, the siege as far as regards the Parisians has been as yet like hunting--all the pleasure of war, with one per cent. of the danger; and so long as they can help it they have no intention to increase that per-centage. As for the 1,500 cannon, they have not yet been made; but many of them have already been named. One is to be called the "Jules Favre," one the "Populace," "We already hear them thunder, and see the Prussians decimated," says the _Temps_, and its editor is not the first person who has counted his chickens before they are hatched.

All yesterday afternoon and evening the Fort of Issy, and the battery of the Bois de Boulogne, fired heavily on Brinborion and Meudon, with what result no one knows. Yesterday morning the _Combat_ announced that Marshal Bazaine was treating for the surrender of Metz in the name of Napoleon. The Government was interviewed, and denied the fact. In the evening the _Combat_ was burnt on the Boulevards. The chief of General Ducrot's staff has published a letter protesting against the a.s.sertions of certain journals that the fight at Malmaison produced no results. On the contrary, he says it gained us sixty square kilometres of ground in the plain of Genevilliers.

CHAPTER IX.

_October 28th._

I see at a meeting of the mayors, the population of Paris is put down at 2,036,000. This does not include the regular army, or the Marines and Mobiles outside and within the lines. The consumption of meat, consequently, at the rate of 100 grammes per diem, must amount to between 400,000 and 500,000lbs. per diem. Although mutton according to the tariff is cheaper than beef, I rarely see any at the restaurants.

This tells its own tale, and I imagine that in three weeks from now at the very latest fresh meat will have come to an end.