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 principal 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 Chassepots 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 destitute, 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 cumulative 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 Saturday, at a club, to make a demonstration before the Hotel de Ville, in favour of M. Mottu, the Mayor of the eleventh arrondissement, 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 arrondissement 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. Butter now costs 18fr. the pound. Milk is beginning to get scarce. The "committee of alimentation" recommends mothers to nourish their babies from what Mr. Dickens 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 pass 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 nobles 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 anticipating 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 asserted, 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 asserted 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 pass, 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 assertions 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.

I am reluctantly coming to the conclusion that there is no more fight in the working men than in the bourgeois. The National Guard in Montmartre and Batignolles have held an indignation meeting to protest against their being employed in the forts. A law was passed on August 10 calling under arms all unmarried men between 25 and 40. In Paris it has never been acted on; it would, however, be far better to regularly enrol this portion of the National Guard as soldiers than to ask for volunteers. As long as these "sedentary" warriors can avoid regular service, or subjecting themselves to the discipline and the hardships of real soldiers, they will do so. Before the Pantheon, the mayor of an arrondissement sits on a platform, writing down the names of volunteers. Whenever one makes his appearance, a roll of drums announces to his fellow-citizens that he has undertaken to risk his valuable life outside the ramparts. It really does appear too monstrous that the able-bodied men of this city should wear uniforms, learn the goose-step, and refuse to take any part in the defence within shot of the enemy. That they should object to be employed in a campaign away from their homes, is hardly in accordance with their appeal to the provinces to rise en masse to defend France, but that they should decline to do anything but go over every twelve days to the ramparts, is hardly fighting even for their own homes. Surely as long as the siege lasts they ought to consider that the Government has a right to use them anywhere within the lines of investment They make now what they call military promenades, that is to say, they go out at one gate, keep well within the line of the forts, and come in at another gate. Some of the battalions are ready to face the enemy, although they will not submit to any discipline. The majority, however, do not intend to fight outside the ramparts. I was reading yesterday the account of a court-martial on one of these heroes, who had fallen out with his commanding officer, and threatened to pass his sword through his body. The culprit, counsel urged, was a man of an amiable, though excitable disposition; the father of two sons, had once saved a child from drowning, and had presented several curiosities to a museum. Taking these facts into consideration, the Court condemned him to six days' imprisonment, his accuser apologised to him, and shook hands with him. What is to be expected of troops when military offences of the grossest kind are treated in this fashion? I know myself officers of the Garde Nationale, who, when they are on duty at the ramparts, quietly leave their men there, and come home to dinner. No one appears to consider this anything extraordinary. Well may General Trochu look up to the sky when it is overcast, and wish that he were in Brittany shooting woodcocks. He has undertaken a task beyond his own strength, and beyond the strength of the greatest general that ever lived. How can the Parisians expect to force the Prussians to raise the siege? They decline to be soldiers, and yet imagine that in some way or other, not only is their city not to be desecrated by the foot of the invader, but that the armies of Germany are to be driven out of France.

October 30th.

We really have had a success. Between the north-eastern and the north-western forts there is a plain, cut up by small streams. The high road from Paris to Senlis runs through the middle of it, and on this road, at a distance of about six kilometres from Paris, is the village of Bourget, which was occupied by the Prussians. It is a little in advance of their lines, which follow a small river called the Moree, about two kilometres in the rear. At 5 A.M. last Friday Bourget was attacked by a regiment of Francs-tireurs and the 9th Battalion of the Mobiles of the Seine. The Prussians were driven out of it, and fell back to the river Moree. During the whole of Friday the Prussian artillery fired upon the village, and sometimes there was a sharp interchange of shots between the advanced posts. On Friday night two attacks in considerable force were directed against the position, but both of them failed. At nine on Saturday morning, after a very heavy artillery fire from the batteries at Stains and Dugny, which was replied to from the forts of Aubervilliers and l'Est, La Briche and St. Denis, heavy masses of infantry advanced from Staines and Gonesse. When they approached the village the fire which was concentrated on them was so heavy that they were obliged to fall back. At about twelve o'clock I went out by the gate of La Villette. Between the ramparts and the Fort of Aubervilliers there were large masses of troops held in reserve, and I saw several battalions of National Guards among them, belonging, I heard, to the Volunteers. I pushed on to an inn situated at the intersection of the roads to Bourget and Courneuve. There I was stopped. It was raining hard, and all I could make out was that Prussians and French were busily engaged in firing, the former into Bourget, the latter into Stains and Dugny. It appears to have been feared that the Prussians would make an attack from Bourget upon either St. Denis or Aubervilliers; it was discovered, however, that they had no batteries there. Whether we shall be able to hold the position, or whether, if we do, we shall derive any benefit from it beyond having a large area in which to pick up vegetables, time alone will prove. On returning into Paris I came across in the Rue Rivoli about 200 patriots of all ages, brandishing flags and singing patriotic songs. These were National Guards, who had been engaged in a pacific demonstration at the Hotel de Ville, to testify their affection to the Republic, and to demonstrate that that affection should be reciprocated by the Republic in the form of better arms, better pay, and better food. They had been harangued by Rochefort and Arago. I see by this morning's paper that the latter requested them to swear that not only would they drive the Prussians out of France, but that they would refuse to treat with any Government in Germany except a Republican one.

A decree of General Trochu converts the Legion of Honour into a military decoration. The journalists of all colours are excessively indignant at this, for they all expect, when the party which they support is in power, to be given this red ribbon as a matter of course. It has been so lavishly distributed that anyone who has not got it is almost obliged to explain why he is without it, in the way a person would excuse himself if he came into a drawing-room without a coat.

The theatres are by degrees reopening. In order not to shock public opinion, the programmes of their entertainments are exceedingly dull. Thus the Comedie Francaise bill of fare for yesterday was a speech, a play of Moliere's without costumes, and an ode to Liberty. I can understand closing the theatres entirely, but it seems to me absurd increasing the general gloom, by opening them in order to make the audiences wish that they were closed. Fancy, for an evening's entertainment, a speech from Mr. Cole, C.B.; the play of Hamlet played in the dresses of the present century; and an ode from Mr. Tupper.

A few days ago the newspapers asserted that M. Thiers had entered Paris, having been provided with a safe conduct by the King of Prussia. It is now said that he is not here yet, but that he shortly will be. Of course if Count Bismarck allows him to come in, he does so rather in the interests of Prussia than of France. I cannot believe myself that, unless Prussia has given up the idea of annexing Alsace and Lorraine to Germany, negotiation will be productive of good results. If Metz can be taken, if the armies of the provinces can be defeated, and if the provisions within the city become less plentiful than they are now, then perhaps the Parisians will accept the idea of a capitulation. At present, however, the very large majority believe that France must eventually conquer, and that the world is lost in wonder and admiration of their attitude. The siege is one long holiday to the working classes. They are as well fed as ever they were, and have absolutely nothing to do except to play at soldiers. Although the troops are unable to hold the villages within the fire of their forts, they are under the delusion that—to use the favourite expression—the circle in which we are inclosed is gradually but surely being enlarged. I was this morning buying cigars at a small tobacconist's. "Well," said the proprietor of the shop to me, "so we are to destroy the Prussians in twenty days." "Really," I said. "Yes," he replied, "I was this morning at the Mairie; there was a crowd before it complaining that they could not get meat. A gentleman—a functionary—got upon a stool. 'Citizens and citizenesses,' he said, 'be calm; continue to preserve the admirable attitude which is eliciting the admiration of the world. I give you my honour that arrangements have been made to drive the Prussians away from Paris in twenty days.' Of course," added my worthy bourgeois, "this functionary would not have spoken thus had the Government not revealed its plans to him." At this moment a well dressed individual entered the shop and asked for a subscription for the construction of a machine which he had invented to blow up the whole Prussian army. I expected to see him handed over to a policeman, but instead of this the bourgeois gave him two francs! What, I asked, is to be expected of a city peopled by such credulous fools?

A dispute is going on as to the relative advantages of secular and religious education. The Mayor of the 23rd arrondissement publishes to-day an order to the teachers within his domains, forbidding them to take the children under their charge to hear mass on Sundays. The municipality has also published a decree doubling the amount contributed by the city to the primary schools. Instead of eight million francs it is to be henceforward sixteen millions. This is all very well, but surely it would be better to put off questions affecting education until the siege is over. The alteration in the nomenclature of the streets also continues. The Boulevard Prince Eugene is to be called the Boulevard Voltaire, and the statue of the Prince has been taken down, to be replaced by the statue of the philosopher; the Rue Cardinal Fesch is to be called the Rue de Chateaudun. The newspapers also demand that the Rue de Londres should be rebaptised on the ground that the name of Londres is detested even more than Berlin. "If Prussia" (says one writer) "wages against us a war of bandits and savages, it is England which, in the gloom of its sombre country houses, pays the Uhlans who oppress our peasants, violate our wives, massacre our soldiers, and pillage our provinces. She rejoices over our sufferings."

The headquarters of the Ambulance Internationale are to move to-morrow from the Palais de l'Industrie to the Grand Hotel. In the Palais it was impossible to regulate the ventilation. It was always either too hot or too cold. Another objection to it which was urged by the medical men was, that one-half of it served as a store for munitions of war.

4 P.M.

So we have been kicked neck and crop out of Bourget. I have got such a cold that I have been lying up to-day. A friend of mine has just come in, and tells me that at eight this morning a regiment on their way to Bourget found the Mobiles who were in it falling back. Some Prussian troops appeared from between Stains and Courneuve, and attempted to cut off the retreat. Whether we lost any cannon my friend does not know. He thinks not. Some of our troops were trapped, the others got away, and fell back on the barricades in front of Aubervilliers. My friend observes that if it was not a rout, it was extremely like one. He thinks that we were only allowed to get into Bourget in order to be caught like rats in a trap. When my friend left the forts were firing on Pierrefitte and Etains, and the Prussians were established in front of Bourget. My friend, who thinks he has a genius for military matters, observes that we ought to have either left Bourget alone, or held it with more troops and more artillery. The Mobiles told him that they had been starving there for forty-eight hours, and only had two pieces of 12, two of 4, and one mitrailleuse. The Prussians had brought up heavy guns, and yesterday they established a battery of twenty-one cannon, which cannonaded the village.

October 31st.

Yesterday evening until eleven o'clock—a late hour now for Paris;—the Boulevards were crowded. Although the news that Bourget had been retaken by the Prussians had been affiche at the Mairies, those who asserted it were at first treated as friends of Prussia. Little by little the fact was admitted, and then, every one fell to denouncing the Government. To-day the official bulletin states that we retreated in good order, leaving "some" prisoners. From what I hear from officers who were engaged, the Mobiles fought well for some time, although their ammunition was so wet that they could only fire twelve shots with their cannon, and not one with their mitrailleuse. When they saw that they were likely to be surrounded, there was a stampede to Aubervilliers and to Drancy, the latter of which was subsequently evacuated. To-day we have two pieces of news—that M. Thiers entered Paris yesterday, and that Metz has fallen. The Journal des Debats also publishes copious extracts from a file of provincial papers up to the 26th, which it has obtained.

I hear that M. Thiers advises peace on any terms. The Government of Paris is in a difficult position. It has followed in the course of Palikao. By a long suggestio falsi et suppressio veri it has led the population of this city to believe that the position of France has bettered itself every day that the siege has lasted. We have been told that Bazaine could hold out indefinitely, that vast armies were forming in the provinces, and would, before the middle of November, march to the relief of Paris; that the investing army was starving, and that it had been unable to place a single gun in position within the range of the forts; that we had ample provisions until the month of February, and that there would not be the slightest difficulty in introducing convoys. Anyone who ventured to question these facts was held up to public execration. General Trochu announced that he had a "plan," and that if only he were left to carry it out, it must result in success. All this time the General and the members of the Government, who were at loggerheads with each other, privately confessed to their friends that the situation was growing every day more critical.

The attempt to obtain volunteers from the population of the capital for active service outside the gates has resulted in a miserable failure, and the Government does not even venture to carry out the law, which subjects all between twenty-five and thirty-five to enrolment in the army. With respect to public opinion, all are opposed to the entry of the Prussians into Paris, or to a peace which would involve a cession of territory; but many equally object to submitting either to real hardship or real danger. They hope against hope that what they call their "sublime attitude" will prevent the Prussians from attacking them, and that they may pass to history as heroes, without having done anything heroic. I had thought that the working men would fight well, but I think so no longer. Under the Empire they got high wages for doing very little. Since the investment of the capital, they have taken their 1fr. 50c. and their rations for their families, and done hardly anything except drill, gossip, and about once a week go on the ramparts. So fond they are of this idle existence, that although workshops offer 6fr. a day to men, they cannot obtain hands. With respect to provisions, as yet the poorer classes have been better off than they ever were before. Every one gets his 50 or 100 grammes of meat, and his share of bread. Those persons alone who were accustomed to luxuries have suffered from their absence. Meat of some kind is, however, to be obtained by any person who likes to pay for it about twice its normal value. So afraid is the Government of doing anything which may irritate the population, that, contrary to all precedent, the garrison and the wounded alone are fed with salt meat. What the result of M. Thiers' mission will be, it is almost impossible to say. The Government will be anxious to treat, and probably it will put forward feelers to-morrow to see how far it may dare go. Some of its members already are endeavouring to disconnect themselves from a capitulation, and, if it does take place, will assert that they were opposed to it. Thus, M. Jules Favre, in a long address to the mayors of the banlieus yesterday, goes through the old arguments to prove that France never desired war.

This gentleman is essentially an orator, rather than a statesman. When he went to meet Count Bismarck at Ferrieres, he was fully prepared to agree to the fortresses in Alsace and Lorraine being rased; but when he returned, the phrase, "Ni un pouce du territoire, ni une pierre des forteresses," occurred to him, and he could not refrain from complicating the situation by publishing it.

To turn for a moment to less serious matters. I never shall see a donkey without gratefully thinking of a Prussian. If anyone happens to fall out with his jackass, let me recommend him, instead of beating it, to slay and eat it. Donkey is now all the fashion. When one is asked to dinner, as an inducement one is told that there will be donkey. The flesh of this obstinate, but weak-minded quadruped is delicious—in colour like mutton, firm and savoury. This siege will destroy many illusions, and amongst them the prejudice which has prevented many animals being used as food. I can most solemnly assert that I never wish to taste a better dinner than a joint of a donkey or a ragout of cat—experto crede.

November 1st.

We have had an exciting twenty-four hours. The Government of the National Defence has in the course of yesterday been deposed, imprisoned, and has again resumed the direction of public affairs. I went yesterday, between one and two o'clock, to the Hotel de Ville. On the place before it there were about 15,000 persons, most of them National Guards from the Faubourgs, and without arms, shouting, "Vive la Commune! Point d'armistice!" Close within the rails along the facade there were a few Mobiles and National Guards on duty. One of the two great doorways leading into the hotel was open. Every now and then some authority appeared to make a speech which no one could catch; and at most of the windows on the first floor there was an orator gesticulating. The people round me said that the mayors of Paris had been summoned by Arago, and were in one room inside deliberating, whilst in another was the Government. I managed to squeeze inside the rails, and stood near the open door. At about 2.30 the Mobiles who guarded it were pushed back, and the mob was forcing its way through it, when Trochu appeared, and confronted them. What he said I could not hear. His voice was drowned in cries of "A bas Trochu!" Jules Simon then got on a chair, to try the effect of his eloquence; but in the midst of his gesticulations a body of armed men forced their way through the entrance, and with about 300 of the mob got inside the Hotel. Just then three or four shots were fired. The crowd outside scampered off, yelling "Aux armes!" and running over each other. I thought it more prudent to remain where I was. Soon the mob returned, and made a rush at both the doors; for the one which had been open had been closed in the interval. This one they were unable to force, but the other, winch leads up a flight of steps into the great covered court in the middle of the building, yielded to the pressure, and through it I passed with the crowd; whilst from the windows above slips were being thrown out with the words "Commune decretee—Dorian president" on them. The covered court was soon filled. In the middle of it there is a large double staircase leading to a wide landing, from which a door and some windows communicate with a long salle.

This, too, was invaded, and for more than two hours I remained there. The spectacle was a curious one—everybody was shouting, everybody was writing a list of a new Government and reading it aloud. In one corner a man incessantly blew a trumpet, in another a patriot beat a drum. At one end was a table, round which the mayors had been sitting, and from this vantage ground Felix Pyat and other virtuous citizens harangued, and, as I understood, proclaimed the Commune and themselves, for it was impossible to distinguish a word. The atmosphere was stifling, and at last I got out of a window on to the landing in the courtyard. Here citizens had established themselves everywhere. I had the pleasure to see the "venerable" Blanqui led up the steps by his admirers. This venerable man had, horresco referens, been pushed up in a corner, where certain citizens had kicked his venerable frame, and pulled his venerable white beard, before they had recognised who he was. By this time it appeared to be understood that a Government had been constituted, consisting of Blanqui, Ledru-Rollin, Delescluze, Louis Blanc, Flourens, and others. Flourens, whom I now perceived for the first time, went through a corridor, with some armed men, and I and others followed him. We got first into an antechamber, and then into a large room, where a great row was going on. I did not get farther than close to the door, and consequently could not well distinguish what was passing, but I saw Flourens standing on a table, and I heard that he was calling upon the members of the Government of National Defence, who were seated round it, to resign, and that Jules Favre was refusing to do so. After a scene of confusion, which lasted half an hour, I found myself, with those round me, pushed out of the room, and I heard that the old Government had been arrested, and that a consultation was to take place between it and the new one. Feeling hungry, I now went to the door of the Hotel to get out, but I was told I could not do so without a permission from the citizen Blanqui. I observed that I was far too independent a citizen myself to ask any one for a permit to go where I liked, and, as I walked on, the citizen sentinel did not venture to stop me. As I passed before Trochu's headquarters at the Louvre I spoke to a captain of the Etat-Major, whom I knew, and whom I saw standing at the gate. When he heard that I had just come from the Hotel de Ville, he anxiously asked me what was going on there, and whether I had seen Trochu. General Schmitz, he said, had received an order signed by the mayors of Paris to close the gates of the town, and not on any pretext to let any one in or out. At the Louvre he said all was in confusion, but he understood that Picard had escaped from the Hotel de Ville, and was organizing a counter-movement at the Ministry of Finance. Having dined, I went off to the Place Vendome, as the generale was beating. The National Guards of the quarter were hurrying there, and Mobile battalions were marching in the same direction. I found on my arrival that this had become the headquarters of the Government; that an officer who had come with an order to Picard to go to the Hotel de Ville, signed by Blanqui, had been arrested. General Tamisier was still a prisoner with the Government. Soon news arrived that a battalion had got inside the Hotel de Ville and had managed to smuggle Trochu out by a back door. Off I went to the Louvre. There Trochu, his uniform considerably deteriorated, was haranguing some battalions of the Mobiles, who were shouting "Vive Trochu!" Other battalions were marching down the Rue Rivoli to the Hotel de Ville. I got into a cab and drove there. The Hotel was lit up. On the "place" there were not many persons, but all round it, in the streets, were Mobiles and Bourgeois National Guards, about 20,000 in all. The Hotel was guarded, I heard, by a Belleville battalion, but I could not get close in to interview them. This lasted until about two o'clock in the morning, when the battalions closed in, Trochu appeared with his staff, and in some way or other, for it was so dark, nothing could be seen, the new Government was ejected; M. Jules Favre and his colleagues were rescued. M. Delescluze, who was one of the persons there, thus describes what took place: "A declaration was signed by the new Government declaring that on the understanding that the Commune was to be elected the next day, and also the Provisional Government replaced by an elected one, the citizens designed at a public meeting to superintend these elections withdrew." This was communicated first to Dorian, who appears to have been half a prisoner, half a friend; then to the members of the old Government, who were in honourable arrest; then to Jules Ferry outside. A general sort of agreement appears then to have been made, that bygones should be bygones. The Revolutionists went off to bed, and matters returned to the point where they had been in the morning. Yesterday evening a decree was placarded, ordering the municipal elections to take place to-day, signed Etienne Arago; and to-day a counter-decree, signed Jules Favre, announces that this decree appeared when the Government was garde a vue, and that on Thursday next a vote is to be taken to decide whether there is to be a Commune or not.

To-day the streets are full of National Guards marching and counter-marching, and General Tamisier has held a review of about 10,000 on the Place Vendome. Mobile battalions also are camped in the public squares. I went to the Hotel de Ville at about one o'clock, and found Mr. Washburne there. We both came to the conclusion that Trochu had got the upper hand. Before the Hotel de Ville there were about 5,000 Mobiles, and within the building everything appeared quiet. Had General Trochu been a wise man he would have anticipated this movement, and not rendered himself ridiculous by being imprisoned with his council of lawyers and orators for several hours by a mob. The working men who performed this feat seemed only to be actuated by a wild desire to fight out their battle with the Prussians, and not to capitulate. They wished to be led out, as they imagine that their undisciplined valour would be a match for the German army. They showed their sense by demanding that Dorian should be at the head of the new Government. He is not a Demagogue, he has written no despatches, nor made any speeches, nor decreed any Utopian reforms after the manner of his colleagues. But, unlike them, he is a practical man of business, and this the working men have had discernment enough to discover. They are hardly to be blamed if they have accepted literally the rhetorical figures of Jules Favre. When he said that, rather than yield one stone of a French fortress, Paris would bury itself beneath its ruins, they believed it. I need hardly say that neither the Government nor the bourgeoisie have the remotest intention to sacrifice either their own lives or their houses merely in order to rival Saragossa. They have got themselves into a ridiculous position by their reckless vaunts, and they have welcomed M. Thiers, as an angel from heaven, because they hope that he will be able to save them from cutting too absurd a figure. He left yesterday at three o'clock, and I understand he has full powers to negotiate an armistice upon any terms which will save the amour-propre of the Parisians. I should not be surprised, however, if the Government continues to resist until the town is in real danger or has suffered real privations. If the Parisians take it into their heads that they will be able to palm themselves off as heroes by continuing for a few weeks longer their passive attitude of opposition, they will do so. What inclines them to submit to conditions now, is not so much the capitulation of Bazaine, as the dread that by remaining much longer isolated they will entirely lose their hold on the Provincials. That these Helots should venture to express their opinions, or to act except in obedience to orders from the capital, fills them with indignation.

November 2nd.

The Government has issued the following form, on which a vote is to be taken to-morrow: "Does the population of Paris maintain, Yes or No, the powers of the Government of National Defence?"

The Ultras bitterly complain that the members of the Government agreed to the election of a Commune, on the recommendation of all the mayors, and that now they are going back from their concession, and are following in the steps of the Empire and taking refuge in a Plebiscite. They, therefore, recommend their friends to abstain from voting. The fact is, that the real question at issue is, whether Paris is to resist to the end, or whether it is to fall back from the determination to do so, which it so boldly and so vauntingly proclaimed. The bourgeois are getting tired of marching to the ramparts, and making no money; the working-men are thoroughly enjoying themselves, and are perfectly ready to continue the status quo. I confess I rather sympathise with the latter. They may not be over wise, but still it seems to me that Paris ought to hold out as long as bread lasts, without counting the cost. She had invited the world to witness her heroism, and now she endeavours to back out of the position which she has assumed. I have not been down to Belleville to-day, but I hear that there and in the other outer Faubourgs there is great excitement, and the question of a rising is being discussed. Flourens and some other commanders of battalions have been cashiered, but they are still in command, and no attempt is being made to oblige them to recognise the decree. Rochefort has resigned his seat in the Government, on the ground that he consented to the election of the Commune. The general feeling among the shopkeepers seems to be to accept an armistice on almost any terms, because they hope that it will lead to peace. We will take our revenge, they say, in two years. A threat which simply means that if the French army can fight then, they will again shout "a Berlin!" M. Thiers is still at Versailles. There appears to be a tacit truce, but none knows precisely what is going on. A friend of mine saw General Trochu yesterday on business, and he tells me that this worthy man was then so utterly prostrated, that he did not even refer to the business which he had come to transact. Never was a man more unfit to defend a great capital. "Why do you not act with energy against the Ultras?" said my friend. "I wish," replied Trochu, "to preserve my power by moral force." This is all very well, but can the commander of a besieged town be said to have preserved his power when he allows himself to be imprisoned by a mob for six hours, and then does not venture to punish its leaders? Professor Fustel de Coulanges has written a reply to Professor Mommsen. He states the case of France with respect to Alsace very clearly. "Let Prussia double the war-tax she imposes on France, and give up this iniquitous scheme of annexation," ought to be the advice of every sincere friend of peace. In any case, if Alsace and Lorraine are turned with the German Rhine Provinces into a neutral State, I do hope that we shall have the common sense not to guarantee either its independence or its neutrality. If we do so, within ten years we shall infallibly be dragged into a Continental war. We have a whim about Belgium, one day it will prove a costly one; we cannot, however, afford to indulge in many of these whims.



CHAPTER X.

November 3rd.

The vote is being taken to-day whether the population of Paris maintains in power the Government of National Defence. On Saturday each of the twenty arrondissements is to elect a Mayor and four adjuncts, who are to replace those nominated by the Government. Of course the Government will to-day have a large majority. Were it to be in the minority the population would simply assert that it wishes to live under no Government. This plebiscite is in itself an absurdity. The real object, however, is to strengthen the hands of the depositories of power, and to enable them to conclude an armistice, which would result in a Constituent Assembly, and would free them from the responsibility of concluding peace on terms rather than accept which they proudly asserted a few weeks ago they would all die. The keynote of the situation is given by the organs of public opinion, which until now have teemed with articles calling upon the population of the capital to bury itself beneath its ruins, and thus by a heroic sacrifice to serve as an example to the whole of France. To-day they say, "It appears that the provinces will not allow Paris to be heroic. They wish for peace; we have no right to impose upon them our determination to fight without hope of victory." The fact is that the great mass of the Parisians wish for peace at any price. Under the circumstances I do not blame them. No town is obliged to imitate the example of Moscow. If, however, it intends after submitting to a blockade, to capitulate on terms which it scouted at first, before any of its citizens have been even under fire, and before its provisions are exhausted, it would have done well not to have called upon the world to witness its sublimity. My impression is that on one point alone the Parisians will prove obstinate, and that is if the Prussians insist upon occupying their town; upon every other they will only roar like "sucking doves." Rather than allow the German armies to defile along the Boulevards, they would give up Alsace, Lorraine, and half a dozen other provinces. As regards the working-men, they have far more go in them than the bourgeois, and if the Prussians would oblige them by assaulting the town, they would fight well in the streets; but with all their shouts for a sortie, I estimate their real feelings on the matter by the fact that they almost unanimously, on one pretext or another, decline to volunteer for active service outside the ramparts.

The elections on Saturday, says M. Jules Favre, will be a "negation of the Commune." By this I presume he means that the elected Mayors and their adjuncts will only exercise power in their respective arrondissements, but that their collective action will not be recognised. As, however, they will be the only legally elected body in Paris, and as, undoubtedly, they will frequently meet together, it is very probable that they will be able to hold their own against the Government. The word "Commune" is taken from the vocabulary of the first Revolution. During the Reign of Terror the Municipality was all powerful, and it styled itself a "Commune." By "Commune," consequently, is simply meant a municipality which is strong enough to absorb tacitly a portion of the power legally belonging to the Executive.

The Government now meets at one or other of the ministries. At the Hotel de Ville Etienne Arago still reigns. Being a member of the Government himself, he cannot well be turned out by his own colleagues, but they distrust him, and do not clearly know whether he is with them or against them. Yesterday, several battalions were stationed round the hotel. Arago came out to review them. He was badly received, and the officers let him understand that they were not there to be reviewed by him. Soon afterwards General Tamisier passed along the line, and was greeted with shouts of "A bas la Commune!"

I am sorry for Trochu; he is a good, honourable, high-minded man; somewhat obstinate, and somewhat vain; but actuated by the best intentions. He has thrust himself into a hornet's nest. In vain he now plaintively complains that he has made Paris impregnable, that he cannot make sorties without field artillery, and that he is neither responsible for the capitulation of Metz, nor the rout the other day at Bourget. What, then, say his opponents with some truth, was your wonderful plan? Why did you put your name to proclamations which called upon us, if we could not conquer, at least to die? Why did you imprison as calumniators those who published news from the provinces, which you now admit is true? It is by no means easy for him or his colleagues to reply to these questions.

General Bellemare has been suspended. He, it appears, is to be the scapegoat of the Bourget affair. I hear from the Quartier-General that the real reason why the artillery did not arrive in time to hold this position was, not because Bellemare did not ask for it, but because he could not get it. Red tape and routine played their old game. From St. Denis none could be sent, because St. Denis is within the "territorial defence of Paris," and Bourget is not. In vain Bellemare's officers went here and there. They were sent from pillar to post, from one aged General to another, and at eleven o'clock on the day when Bourget was taken, after the troops had been driven out of it, the artillery, every formality having been gone through, was on its way to the village. It is pleasant, whilst one is cut off from the outer world, to be reminded by these little traits of one's native land, its War-Office and its Horse-Guards.

I was out yesterday afternoon along our southern advanced posts. A few stray shots were occasionally fired by Francs-tireurs; but there seemed to be a tacit understanding that no offensive operations should take place. The fall of the leaves enables us to distinguish clearly the earthworks and the redoubts which the Prussians have thrown up. I am not a military man, but my civilian mind cannot comprehend why Vanves and Montrouge do not destroy with their fire the houses occupied on the plateau of Chatillon by the Prussians. I asked an officer, who was standing before Vanves, why they did not. He shrugged his shoulders, and said, "It is part of the plan, I suppose." Trochu is respected by the troops, but they have little confidence in his skill as a commander. In the evening I went to the Club Rue d'Arras, which is presided over by the "venerable" Blanqui in person, and where the Ultras of the Ultras congregate. The club is a large square room, with a gallery at one end and a long tribune at the other. On entering through a baize door one is called upon to contribute a few sous to the fund for making cannon. When I got there it was about 8.30. The venerable Blanqui was seated at a table on the tribune; before him were two assessors. One an unwholesome citizen, with long blond hair hanging down his back, the other a most truculent-looking ruffian. The hall was nearly full; many were in blouses, the rest in uniform; about one-fifth of the audience was composed of women, who either knitted, or nourished the infants, which they held in their arms. A citizen was speaking. He held a list in his hand of a new Government. As he read out the names some were applauded, others rejected. I had found a place on a bench by the side of a lady with a baby, who was occupied, like most of the other babies, in taking its supper. Its food, however, apparently did not agree with it, for it commenced to squall lustily. "Silence," roared a hundred voices, but the baby only yelled the louder. "Sit upon it," observed some energetic citizens, looking at me, but not being a Herod, I did not comply with their order. The mother became frightened lest a coup d'etat should be made upon her offspring, and after turning it up and solemnly smacking it, took it away from the club. By this time orator No. 1 had been succeeded by orator No. 2. This gentleman, a lieutenant in the National Guard, thus commenced. "Citizens, I am better than any of you. (Indignant disapproval.) In the Hotel de Ville on Monday I told General Trochu that he was a coward." (Tremendous shouts of "You are a liar," and men and women shook their fists at the speaker.) Up rose the venerable Blanqui. There was a dead silence. "I am master here," he said; "when I call a speaker to order he must leave the tribune, until then he remains." The club listened to the words of the sage with reverential awe, and the orator was allowed to go on. "This, perhaps, no one will deny," he continued. "I took an order from the Citizen Flourens to the public printing establishment. The order was the deposition of the Government of National Defence"—(great applause)—and satisfied with his triumph the lieutenant relapsed into private life. After him followed several other citizens, who proposed resolutions, which were put and carried. I only remember one of them, it was that the Jesuits in Vaugirard (a school) should at once be ejected from the territories of the Republic. At ten o'clock the venerable Blanqui announced that the sitting was over, and the public noisily withdrew. An attempt has been made by the respectable portion of the community to establish a club at the Porte St. Martin Theatre, where speakers of real eminence nightly address audiences. I was there a few evenings ago, and heard A. Coquerel and M. Lebueier, both Protestant pastors, deliver really excellent speeches. The former is severe and demure, the latter a perfect Boanerges. He frequently took up a chair and dashed it to the ground to emphasise his words. This club is usually presided over by M. Cernuschi, a banker, who was in bad odour with the Imperial Government for having subscribed a large sum for the electoral campaign against the Plebiscite. Another club is held at the Folies Bergeres, an old concert-hall, something like the Alhambra. The principal orator here is a certain Falcet, a burly athlete, who was, I believe, formerly a professional wrestler. Here the quality of the speeches is poor, the sentiments of the speakers mildly Republican. At the Club Montmartre the president is M. Tony Reveillon, a journalist of some note. The assessors are always elected. A person proposes himself, and the President puts his name to the audience. Generally a dozen are rejected before the two necessary to make the meeting in order are chosen. Every time I have been there an old man—I am told an ex-professor in a girls' school—has got up, and with great unction blessed the National Guards—the "heroic defenders of our homes." Sometimes he is encored several times; and were his audience to let him, I believe that he would continue blessing the "heroic defenders" until the next morning. The old gentleman has a most reverent air, and I should imagine in quiet times goes about as a blind man with a dog. He was turned out of the school in which he was a professor—a profane disbeliever in all virtue assures me—for being rather too affectionate towards some of the girls. "I like little girls—big ones, too," Artemus Ward used to say, and so it appears did this worthy man. Besides the clubs which I have mentioned, there are above 100 others. Most of them are kept going by the sous which are collected for cannon, or some other vague object. Almost all are usually crowded; the proceedings at most of them are more or less disorderly; the resolutions carried more or less absurd, and the speeches more or less bad. With the exception of the Protestant pastors, and one or two others, I have not heard a single speaker able to talk connectedly for five minutes. Wild invectives against the Prussians, denunciations against Europe, abuse of every one who differs from the orator, and the very tallest of talk about France—what she has done, what she is doing, and what she will do—form the staple of almost all the speeches.

Evening.

I went down to Belleville this afternoon. Everything was quiet. The people, as usual, in the streets doing nothing. If you can imagine the whole of Southwark paid and fed by the Government, excused from paying rent, arrayed in kepis and some sort of uniform, given guns, and passing almost all the time gossiping, smoking, and idling, you will be able to form a correct notion of the aspect of Belleville and the other outer faubourgs. The only demonstration I have heard of has been one composed of women, who marched down the Rue du Temple behind a red flag, shouting "Vive la Commune." As far as is yet known, about one-seventh of the population have voted "No." The army and the Mobiles have almost all voted "Yes." A friend of mine, who was out driving near Bobigny, says he was surrounded by a Mobile regiment, who were anxious to know what was passing in Paris. He asked them how they had voted. "For peace," they replied. "If the National Guards wish to continue the war, they must come out here and fight themselves." Many battalions have issued addresses to the Parisians saying that they will not fight for a Commune, and that the provinces must have a vote in all decisions as to the future destinies of France. General Vinoy also has issued an order to the 13th Corps d'Armee, declaring that if the peace of Paris is disturbed he will march at its head to put down disorders.

November 5th.

That Paris is prudent to seize upon the first loophole to get out of the position into which she has inconsiderately thrust herself is most certain. Never for a moment did I believe that the Parisians, indifferent to all but honour, would perish to the last man rather than give up one inch of territory, one stone of a fortress. Heroic constancy and endurance under misfortune are not improvised. A population, enervated by twenty years of slavery, corruption, and luxury, is not likely to immolate itself for country, like the Spartans at Thermopylae. People who mean to die do not sign a preliminary round-robin to do so. Real fighting soldiers do not parade the streets behind half-a-dozen fantastically dressed vivandieres. When in a town of 2,000,000 inhabitants not above 12,000 can be found ready to submit to military discipline, and to go outside an inner line of fortifications, it is ridiculous to expect a defence like that of Saragossa. We are under the impression to-day that an armistice will be signed to-morrow. No one affects even to doubt that the word means peace. The bourgeoisie are heartily tired of playing at soldiers, the game has lost its novelty, and the nights are too cold to make an occasional pic-nic to the fortifications agreeable any longer. Besides, business is business, and pleasant as it may be to sit arrayed in uniform behind a counter, in the long run customers are more remunerative, if not so glorious. The cry for peace is universal, the wealthy are lusting after the flesh-pots of Egypt, the hotel-keepers are eagerly waiting for the rush of sightseers, and the shopkeepers are anxious to make up for lost time by plundering friend and foe. The soldiers, although Trochu is popular with them, have neither faith nor confidence in his generalship. The Mobiles and peasants recently from their villages wish to go home, and openly tell the Parisians that they have no intention to remain out in the cold any longer on salt beef, whilst the heroic citizens are sleeping quietly in their houses, or in barracks, and gorging themselves with fresh provisions. As for the working-men, they are spoiling for a fight in the streets, either with the Prussians, or, if that cannot be, with anyone else. They are, however, so thoroughly enjoying themselves, doing nothing, and getting paid for doing it, that they are in too good a temper to be mischievous. The new Prefect of the Police has arrested Felix Pyat and other leaders of the riot of last Monday. Flourens and the venerable Blanqui are only not in prison because they are in hiding. The mayors of the different arrondissements are being elected to-day, but no one seems to trouble himself about the election.

The vote of Thursday has somewhat surprised the bourgeoisie. That one-seventh of the population should have registered their deliberate opinion that they prefer no Government to that under which they are living is by no means a reassuring fact, more particularly when this seventh consists of "men of action," armed with muskets, and provided with ammunition. As long as the Line and the Mobiles remain here, Trochu will be able, if he only acts with firmness, to put down all tendencies to disorder; but were there to be a fight between the friends of the Government among the Garde Nationale and its opponents, I am not certain that the former would have the upper hand. As it is, the Hotel de Ville and the Louvre are guarded by Breton battalions of the Mobile, and Vinoy has announced that if there is a disturbance he will at once march to the aid of the Government at the head of his division. Many complaints are made about the mode in which the vote was taken on Thursday; some of them appear to me to be just. The fact is, that Frenchman have not the most elementary notion of fair play in an election. No matter what body of men are in power, they conceive that they have a perfect right to use that power to obtain a verdict in their favour from their fellow-citizens. Tried by our electioneering code, every French election which I ever witnessed would be annulled on the ground of "intimidation" and "undue influence."

Evening.

No news yet about the armistice. I hear that it is doubtful whether it will be signed, but no doubt respecting it seems to disquiet the minds of the Parisians. I cannot help thinking that they have got themselves again into a fool's paradise. Their newspapers tell them that the Neutral Powers are forcing Prussia to be reasonable, and that Bismarck is struck with awe at the sight of our "heroic attitude." As for his not accepting any terms which we may put forward, the idea does not enter the mind of any one. I must say, however, that there is a vague feeling that perhaps we are not quite so very sublime as we imagine. Even to pay a war indemnity seems to be a concession which no one anticipated. For the first time since I have known the Parisians, they are out of conceit with themselves. "If Prussia forces us to make peace now, in five years we will crush her," is the somewhat vague threat with which many console themselves. Others say that on the conclusion of peace they will leave France; but whether this is intended to punish France, Prussia, or themselves, I do not know. Others boldly assert that they are prevented from immolating themselves by the Neutral Powers. It is the old story of "hold me back, don't let me get at him." One thing, however, is certain, that the capture of Bazaine, the disaster at Bourget, the row at the Hotel de Ville, the Prussian cannon on the heights of Meudon, and the opportune arrival of Thiers, have made this population as peaceful to-day, as they were warlike a few weeks ago.

I really am sorry for these vain, silly, gulled humbugs among whom I am living. They have many amiable qualities, although, in trying to be Spartans, they have mistaken their vocation. They are, indeed, far too agreeable to be Spartans, who in private life must have been the most intolerable of bores. It is a sad confession of human weakness, but, as a rule, persons are not liked on account of their virtues. Excessively good people are—speaking socially—angular. Take, for instance, the Prussians; they are saints compared with the French. They have every sort of excellence: they are honest, sober, hard-working, well-instructed, brave, good sons, husbands, and fathers; and yet all this is spoilt by one single fault—they are insupportable. Laugh at the French, abuse them as one may, it is impossible to help liking them. Admire, respect the Prussians as one may, it is impossible to help disliking them. I will venture to say that it would be impossible to find 100 Germans born south of the Main who would declare, on their honour, that they prefer a Prussian to a Frenchman. The only Prussian I ever knew who was an agreeable man was Bismarck. All others with whom I have been thrown—and I have lived for years in Germany—were proud as Scotchmen, cold as New Englanders, and touchy as only Prussians can be. I once had a friend among them. His name was Buckenbrock. Inadvertently I called him Butterbrod. We have never spoken since. A Prussian lieutenant is the most offensive specimen of humanity that nature and pipeclay have ever produced. Apart from all political considerations, the supremacy of this nation in Europe will be a social calamity, unless France, like vanquished Greece, introduces the amenities of society among these pedants, squires, and martinets.

What, however, is to be done for the French? Nothing, I am afraid. They have brought their troubles on their own heads; and, to use an Americanism, they must face the music. Even at this late moment they fail to realise the fact that they ever will be called upon to endure any real hardships, or that their town ever really will be bombarded. I was watching the crowd on the Boulevards this afternoon. It was dispirited because it had for twenty-four hours set its heart upon peace, and was disappointed like a child who cannot get the toy it wants; but I will venture to say, not one person in his heart of hearts really imagined that perhaps within a week he might be blown up by a bomb. They either will not or cannot believe that anything will happen which they do not desire. Facts of this kind must be palpably brought home to them before they will even imagine that they are possible.

The army has been re-organized by that arch organizer Trochu. According to this new plan, the whole armed force is divided into three armies. The first comprises the National Guards; the second, under General Ducrot, is what may be called the active army; it consists of three corps, commanded respectively by Generals Vinoy, d'Exea, and Renault. The third comprises all the troops in the forts, in the cottages adjacent to the forts, which have to be occupied for their defence, and the fourth commanded by Trochu. The second army will have four cannon to each thousand men, and will be used to effect a sortie, if possible. This new arrangement is not well received by military men. Both among soldiers and officers, General Vinoy is far more popular than any other general; he is a sort of French Lord Clyde. Until now he had a coordinate command with Ducrot. That he should be called upon to serve under him is regarded as an injustice, more particularly because Ducrot is an intimate personal friend of Trochu. Ducrot and Trochu believe in themselves, and believe in each other; but no one else believes in them. They certainly have not yet given the slightest evidence of military capacity, except by criticising what has been done by others. Now, at last, however, Trochu will have an opportunity to carry out his famous plan, by which he asserts that he will raise the blockade in fourteen days, and of which he has given the fullest details in his will. Ridicule kills in France—and since this eminent General, as an evidence that he had a plan, appealed to the will which he had deposited with his lawyer, he lost all influence. I need not say that this influence has not been restored by the absurd arrest to which he was subjected by Messrs. Flourens and Blanqui.

November 6th.

So we have declined the armistice. The Government deliberated exactly five minutes over the question. The Journal Officiel says:—"Prussia expressly refused to entertain the question of revictualment, and only admitted under certain reserves the vote of Alsace and Lorraine." No further details are given. An opportunity has been lost, which may never recur. Public opinion was disposed to accept a cessation of the siege on almost any terms. General Trochu, however, and his colleagues had not the civic courage to attach their names to a document which would afterwards have been cast in their teeth. A friend of mine, a military man, saw Trochu late last night. He strongly urged him to accept the armistice, but in vain. "What do you expect will occur? You must know that the position is hopeless," said my friend. "I will not sign a capitulation," was all he could get from Trochu. This worthy man is as obstinate as only weak men can be; his colleagues, as self-seeking as only French politicians can be. The news that the armistice had been rejected, fell like a thunderclap upon the population. I never remember to have witnessed a day of such general gloom since the commencement of the siege. The feeling of despair is, I hear, still stronger in the army. Were the real condition of things outside known, I am certain that the Government would be forced to conclude an armistice, on no matter what terms. I happened to come across to-day a file of English newspapers up to the 22nd ult., and I fully realised how all intelligence from without has been distorted by the Government to serve its own purposes. Now a few days ago, these very papers had been lent to Trochu. He read them, kept them two days to show some of his colleagues, and then returned them. One single extract was published by the Journal Officiel—a German report upon the defences of Paris. No man in the House of Commons is more fond of special pleading than Sir Roundell Palmer. When anyone complains of it, the reply is, that he teaches some children their catechism on Sundays. So, when anyone ventures to question the veracity of Trochu, one is told that he has adopted his brother's children.

According to measurements which have been made, the Prussian batteries at Sevres and Meudon will carry to the Champ de Mars. From Montretout their guns would throw shells into the Champs Elysees; but we think that Valerien will silence them as soon as they open. Meat is getting more and more scarce every day. That great moralist, Dr. Johnson, said that he should prefer to dine with a Duke than the most agreeable of Commoners. I myself at present should prefer to dine with a leg of mutton than the most agreeable of human beings—Duke or Commoner. I hear, on what I believe to be good authority, that we shall see the end of our fresh meat on or about the 20th of this month.

Yesterday, all the hidden stores which had been hoarded up with an eye to a great profit were thrown on the market. To-day they have again disappeared. Lamb is, however, freely offered for sale, and curiously enough, at the same time, live dogs are becoming scarce.

Several Ultras have been elected mayors of the different arrondissements; among them Citizen Mottu, who was turned out of his mayorship about a fortnight ago because he refused to allow any child to attend a place of worship except with his own consent. It is all very well for M. Jules Favre to say that the election of mayors is a negation of a Commune. As I understand it, a Commune is but a council of elected mayors. If the Government loses its popularity, the new mayors will become a Commune. The more, however, the majority desire peace, the less likely will they be to throw themselves into the arms of Citizen Mottu and his friends, who are all for war a outrance.

Monday, November 7th.

The newspapers of to-day, with the exception of the Ultra organs, are loud in their expressions of regret that the armistice has not been agreed to. The Government gives no further details, but yesterday afternoon M. Jules Favre informed several members of the press who "interviewed" him, that Prussia refused to allow the introduction of provisions into Paris during the duration of the armistice. I have long ceased believing any assertion of a member of the French Government, unless supported by independent evidence. But if this be really true, I must say that Count Bismarck has been playing a game with the Neutral Powers, for it can hardly be expected that Paris would consent to suspend all military operations against the Prussians, whilst their process of reducing the town by starvation was uninterrupted. Besides, as such a condition would have amounted practically to a capitulation, it would have been more frank on the part of Count Bismarck to have submitted the question in that form. I anticipate very shortly a sortie in force. An attempt will be made with the Second Army to pierce the Prussian lines. There appears no reason to doubt that it will fail, and then the cry for peace will become so strong that the Government will be obliged to listen seriously to it.

General Trochu's new organization is severely criticised. I hear from military men that he elaborated it himself with his personal friends. So secret was it kept, that the Minister of War knew nothing about it until it appeared in the Journal Officiel yesterday. After the scene of last Monday General Vinoy reproached Trochu for having tamely submitted to arrest and insult by a mob for several hours, and strongly hinted that a French general owed it to his cloth not to allow his decorations to be torn from his breast. It is said by General Vinoy's friends that those observations are mainly the cause why he has been deprived of his independent command, and placed under the orders of General Ducrot, with respect to whose evasion from Sedan many French officers shake their heads.

I cannot help thinking that the result of the vote of the army on Thursday last is only relatively correct. Line, Mobile, and Marines do not amount to 250,000 men, unless I am very much mistaken. The Second Army, under Ducrot, will number about 110,000 men.

The English at last are about to leave. They are very indignant at having been, as they say, humbugged so long, and loud in their complaints against their Embassy. I do not think, however, that the delay has been the fault either of Colonel Claremont or of Mr. Wodehouse. These gentlemen have done their best, but they were unable to get the Prussian and French authorities to agree upon a day for the exodus. On the one hand, to send to Versailles to receive an answer took forty-eight hours; on the other, from the fact that England had not recognized the Republic, General Trochu could not be approached officially. Colonel Claremont happens to be a personal friend of his, and it is, thanks to his exertions, coupled with those of Mr. Washburne, that the matter has at length been satisfactorily arranged. I need hardly observe that the Foreign-office has done its best to render the question more complicated. It has sent orders to Mr. Wodehouse to provide for the transport of British subjects, without sending funds, and having told Lord Lyons to take the archives with him, it perpetually refers to instructions contained in despatches which it well knows are at Tours.

Mr. Washburne remains. He has done his utmost to induce the Government to agree to an armistice, and has clearly told them that they ought not to sacrifice Paris without a prospect of a successful issue. He is in despair at their decision, and anticipates the worst. In the interests of humanity it is greatly to be regretted that Lord Lyons should have received orders to quit Paris. The personal consideration in which he was held, and the great influence which it gave him, would have been invaluable during the negotiations of the last few days.

November 8th.

I was once in love. The object of my affections had many amiable qualities. I remember I thought her an angel; but when she was crossed, she used to go up into her room and say that she would remain there without eating until I yielded the point at issue between us. As I was invariably right and she was invariably wrong, I could not do this; but, pitying the weakness of her sex, and knowing its obstinacy, I usually managed to arrange matters in a way which allowed her to emerge from her retreat without any great sacrifice of amour propre. The Parisians remind me of this sentimental episode of my existence; they have mounted a high pedestal, and called upon the world to witness that no matter what may be the danger to which they are exposed, they will not get off it, unless they obtain what they want; that they will obtain it, they find is most improbable, and they are anxiously looking around for some one to help them down, without being obliged absolutely "to swallow their own words." They had hoped that the armistice which was proposed by the neutrals would in some way get them out of their difficulty; and, as the siege still continues, they are exceedingly indignant with their kind friends. "They have," say the papers, "loosened our mainspring of sacrifice. We had fully determined to perish, rather than yield; if we do not, it will be the fault of Russia, Austria, and England." Be the cause what it may, the "mainspring of sacrifice" most assuredly is not only loosened, but it has run down, and, unless some wonderful success occurs shortly, it will never be wound up again. As long as it could be supposed that cannon and musketry would only do their bloody work outside the exterior forts, and that Paris might glory in a "heroic attitude" without suffering real hardships or incurring real danger, the note of defiance was loud and bold. As it is, the Government is obliged to do its utmost to keep their courage up to the sticking point. These foolish people really imagined that, like them, the world regarded their city as a species of sacred Jerusalem, and that public opinion would never allow the Prussians either to bombard it, or to expose the high priests of civilization who inhabit it to the realities of war. It is necessary to live here to understand the strength of this feeling. In England, little attention is paid to the utterances of French newspapers, but the Parisians, more profoundly ignorant of foreign politics than the charity school boys of an English village, were under the flattering delusion that we, in common with every other nation, lived alone to merit their favourable opinion. They find now, to their profound astonishment, that beyond a barren sympathy, founded upon a common humanity, no one regards Paris as different to any other great city, and that, if they choose to convert it into an intrenched camp for their armies, they must meet the consequences. Either they must accept the victor's terms of peace or they must fight the Prussians. The reality of the situation is by degrees coming home to them. From the general tone of the conversations I hear, I am inclined to think that, in their hearts, they admit that Alsace, if not Lorraine, is irretrievably lost. Words have a great influence over them, and they find consolation for this loss of territory in the phrase that Alsace will annex a portion of Germany, and not be annexed to Germany. It is admitted also that sooner or later, an indemnity must be paid in money to Prussia. The newspapers, who were the loudest in their praises of M. Jules Favre's language at Ferrieres, now complain that nothing is to be gained by bombast, and that it is ridiculous of him to talk about "France" proposing "conditions of peace" which must be unacceptable to Prussia. The main grounds for continued resistance are the personal ambition of the members of the Government, who well know that if they sign an armistice, which is tantamount to peace, they will hereafter be made scapegoats, and be told that the Parisians were balked of their desire to perish to the last man; the mulish obstinacy of Trochu; and the dread of the capital losing its supremacy over the Provinces. Of course, there are some who wish to fight on to the bitter end. The "Ultras" hope to found on a war a outrance a democratic republic, and dream of the successes of the First Revolution. The politicians hardly know what they want. Their main idea is to keep up for their own purposes that centralization which has so long been the bane of this country. If they agree to terms before Paris has given France an example of heroism, they fear that her supremacy will be compromised; if they allow the insulation to continue, they fear that the Provinces will accustom themselves to independent action; if a Constituent Assembly be elected whilst free communication between Paris and the rest of France is interrupted, they fear that this Assembly will consist of local candidates rather than those, as has heretofore been the case in all French Legislative Chambers, who are imposed upon the departments by a central organization in the capital.