Chapter 11

_Wednesday, November 9th._

I bought a dozen newspapers this morning. Every one of them, with the exception of the _Gaulois_, in more or less covert language, insists upon peace upon any terms. Our "mainspring" not only has run down, but is broken. The complaints, too, against the Government for concealing all news it has received from the provinces, and for giving no details respecting the negotiations with respect to the armistice, are most outspoken. M. Edmond About, in the _Soir_ of last night, insists that we ought to have agreed to the armistice, even without a revictualment; and such appears to be the opinion of almost everyone. Poor M. Jules Favre, who a few weeks ago was lauded to the skies for having so nobly expressed the ideas of his countrymen, when he said that rather than yield one foot of territory, one stone of a fortress, they would all perish, is now abused for having compromised the situation, and made it difficult to treat, by his mania for oratorical claptrap. In the _Figaro_, Villemessant blunders through three columns over being again disappointed in his expectations of embracing his wife, and plaintively tells "William" that though he may not be anxious to see "his Augusta," this is no reason why he, Villemessant, should not be absolutely wild to see Madame. A more utter and complete collapse of all "heroism" I never did witness.

General Trochu has, with his usual intelligence, seized this moment to issue a decree, mobilizing 400 men from each battalion of the National Guard. First, volunteers; secondly, unmarried men, between 25 and 35 years; thirdly, unmarried men, between 35 and 45; fourthly, married men between 25 and 35; fifthly, married men, between 35 and 45, are successively to be called upon to fill up the contingent. The Vinoy affair has been settled by the appointment of the General to the command of the Third Army. The following statistics of the annual consumption of meat by Paris will give some idea of the difficulty of revictualling it:--oxen, 156,680; bulls, 66,028; cows, 31,095; calves, 120,275; sheep, 916,388. Meat is now distributed every three days. I hear that on the present scale of rationing there is enough for five more distributions. We shall then fall back on horses, and our own salt provisions; the former will perhaps last for a week, as for the latter it is impossible to give any accurate estimate. We have, however, practically unlimited supplies of flour, wine, and coffee; if consequently the Parisians are ready to content themselves with what is absolutely necessary to support existence, the process of starving us out will be a lengthy one.

_November 14th._

"Wanted, 10,000 Parisians ready to allow themselves to be killed, in order that their fellow-citizens may pass down to posterity as heroes!" The attempt to obtain volunteers having miserably failed, and fathers of families having declined to risk their valuable lives whilst one single bachelor remains out of reach of the Prussian guns, the Government has now issued a decree calling to arms all bachelors between the age of 25 and 35. If this measure had been taken two months ago it might have been of some use, but it is absurd to suppose that soldiers can be improvised in a few days. I must congratulate my friends here upon the astounding ingenuity which they show in discovering pretexts to avoid military service. It is as difficult to get them outside the inner ramparts as it is to make an old fox break cover. In vain huntsman Trochu and his first whip, Ducrot, blow their horns, and crack their whips; the wily reynard, after putting his nose outside his retreat, heads back, and makes for inaccessible fastnesses, with which long habit has made him familiar. That General Trochu will be able to beat the Prussians no one supposes; but if he can manage to get even 5,000 of the heroes who have for the last two months been professing a wish to die for the honour of their country under fire, he will have accomplished a most difficult feat.

For the last few days the newspapers, one and all, have been filled with details of the negotiations which were supposed to be going on at Versailles. Russia, it was said, had forwarded an ultimatum to the King of Prussia, threatening him with a declaration of war in case he persisted in besieging Paris, or in annexing any portion of French territory. Yesterday morning the _Journal Officiel_ contained an announcement that the Government knew absolutely nothing of these negotiations. The newspapers are, however, not disposed to allow their hopes of peace to be destroyed in this manner, and they reply that "it being notorious that no member of the Government can speak the truth, this official denial proves conclusively the contrary of what it states." It is indeed difficult to know who or what to believe; all I know for certain is, that M. Jules Favre assured Mr. Washburne on Saturday night that since M. Thiers had quitted Paris he had had no communication with the outer world, and did not even know whether the Tours delegation was still there. Men may lie for a certain time, and yet be believed, but this "arm of war" has been so abused by our rulers, that at present their most solemn asseverations meet with universal incredulity--not, indeed, that the Parisians are cured of their mania for crediting every tale which comes to them from any other source--thus, for instance, every newspaper has contained the most precise details from eye-witnesses of a conflict which took place two nights ago before the battery of Hautes-Bruyères, in which our "braves Mobiles" took between two and three thousand prisoners, and slew hecatombs of the enemy. Now, I was both yesterday and the day before yesterday at the Hautes-Bruyères, and I can certify myself that this pretended battle never took place.

It is impossible to predict what will occur during the next fortnight. _Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas._ General Trochu has this morning issued a lengthy address to the inhabitants of the city, informing them that, had it not been for their riotous conduct on Oct. 31 the armistice would have been concluded; and that now all that remains for them to do, is to "close their ranks and to elevate their hearts." "If we triumph, we shall have given our country a great example; if we succumb, we shall have left to Prussia an inheritance which will replace the First Empire in the sanguinary annals of conquest and violence; an inheritance of hatred and maledictions which will eventually prove her ruin." The great question which occupies all minds now is "the sortie." General Trochu and General Ducrot insist upon at least making an attempt to pierce the Prussian lines. All the other generals say that, as it cannot succeed, it is wrong to sacrifice life to no good purpose. This is how the matter is regarded by officers and soldiers. As for the National Guard, they distinctly say that they will be no parties to any such act of folly. Even in the councils of the Government there is a strong feeling against it; but General Trochu declines to allow the question, which he says is a purely military one, to be decided by the lawyers who are his colleagues. They, on their side, complain that the General never quits the Louvre, has surrounded himself with a number of clerical dandies as his aides-de-camp, whose religious principles may be sound, but whose knowledge of war is nil; and that if he wished to make a sortie, he should not have waited until the Prussians had rendered its success impossible by completing their lines of investment. It is said that the attempt will be made along the post road to Orleans, it being now considered impossible, as was at first intended, to open communications by the Havre railroad. The general impression is either that the troops engaged in it will be driven back under the forts in confusion, or that some 50,000 will be allowed to get too far to return, and then will be netted like sparrows. It is not, however, beyond the bounds of possibility that the Prussians will not wait until our great administrator has completed his preparations for attack, but will be beforehand with him, and open fire upon the southern posts from their batteries, which many think would effectually reduce to silence the guns of Vanves, Issy, and of the advanced redoubts. These Prussian batteries are viewed with a mysterious awe. We fire on them, we walk about within less than a mile of them, and they maintain an ominous silence. On the heights of Chatillon it is said at the advanced posts that there are 108 siege guns in position; some of them we can actually distinguish without a glass, and yet not a shot comes from them. Yesterday, the gates of the Bois de Boulogne were opened, and a crowd of several thousand persons walked and drove round the lake. Over their heads one of the bastions was throwing shells into Montretout, but it seemed to occur to no one that Montretout might return the compliment, and throw a few shells, not over their heads, but into their midst. One of the most curious phases in this remarkable siege is, that the women seem to consider the whole question a political one, which in no way regards them--they neither urge the men to resist, nor clamour for peace. _Tros Tyriusque_ seems much the same to them; a few hundreds have dressed themselves up as vivandières, the others appear to regret the rise in the price of provisions, but to trouble their heads about nothing else. If they thought that the cession of Alsace and Lorraine would reduce the price of butchers' meat, they would in a sort of apathetic way be in favour of the cession; but they are so utterly ignorant of everything except matters connected with their toilettes and M. Paul de Kock's novels, that they confine themselves to shrugging their shoulders and hoping for the best, and they support all the privations to which they are exposed owing to the siege without complaint and without enthusiasm. The word armistice being beyond the range of their vocabulary, they call it "l'amnistie," and imagine that the question is whether or not King William is ready to grant Paris an amnesty. As Æneas and Dido took refuge in a cave to avoid a shower, so I for the same reason found myself with a young lady this morning under a porte cochère. Dido was a lively and intelligent young person, but I discovered in the course of our chance conversation that she was under the impression that the Russians as well as the Prussians were outside Paris, and that both were waging war for the King of Spain. Sedan, I also learnt, was in the neighbourhood of Berlin.

The _Temps_ gives the following details of our provisions--Beef will fail in a week, horse will then last a fortnight; salt meat a further week; vegetables, dried fruits, flour, &c., about three weeks more. In this calculation I think that the stock of flour is understated, and that if we are contented to live on bread and wine we shall not be starved out until the middle of January. The ration of fresh meat is now reduced in almost all the arrondissements to thirty grammes a head. There is no difficulty, however, in obtaining for money any quantity of it in the restaurants. In the bouillons only one portion is served to each customer. Cats have risen in the market--a good fat one now costs twenty francs. Those that remain are exceedingly wild. This morning I had a salmis of rats--it was excellent--something between frog and rabbit. I breakfasted with the correspondents of two of your contemporaries. One of them, after a certain amount of hesitation, allowed me to help him to a leg of a rat; after eating it he was as anxious as a terrier for more. The latter, however, scornfully refused to share in the repast. As he got through his portion of salted horse, which rejoiced in the name of beef, he regarded us with horror and disgust. I remember when I was in Egypt that my feelings towards the natives were of a somewhat similar nature when I saw them eating rat. The older one grows the more tolerant one becomes. If ever I am again in Africa I shall eat the national dish whenever I get a chance. During the siege of Londonderry rats sold for 7s. each, and if this siege goes on many weeks longer, the utmost which a person of moderate means will be able to allow himself will be an occasional mouse. I was curious to see whether the proprietor of the restaurant would boldly call rat, rat in my bill. His heart failed him--it figures as a salmi of game.

_November 15th._

We have passed from the lowest depths of despair to the wildest confidence. Yesterday afternoon a pigeon arrived covered with blood, bearing on its tail a despatch from Gambetta, of the 11th, announcing that the Prussians had been driven out of Orleans after two days' fighting, that 1,000 prisoners, two cannon, and many munition waggons had been taken, and that the pursuit was still continuing. The despatch was read at the Mairies to large crowds, and in the _cafés_ by enthusiasts, who got upon the tables. I was in a shop when a person came in with it. Shopkeeper, assistants, and customers immediately performed a war dance round a stove; one would have supposed that the war was over and that the veracity of Gambetta is unimpeachable. But as though this success were not enough in itself, all the newspapers this morning tell us that "Chartres has also been retaken," that the army of Kératry has effected a junction with that of the Loire, and that in the North Bourbaki has forced the Prussians to raise the siege of Amiens. Everyone is asking when "they" will be here. Edmond About, in the _Soir_, eats dirt for having a few days ago suggested an armistice.

At the Quartier-Général I do not think that very great importance is attached to Gambetta's despatch, except as an evidence that the provinces are not perfectly apathetic. It is considered that very possibly the Prussians may have concentrated their whole available force round Paris, in order to crush our grand sortie when it takes place. General Trochu himself takes the most despondent view of the situation, and bitterly complains of the "spirit" of the army, the Mobiles, and the Parisians. This extraordinary commander imagines that he will infuse a new courage in his troops by going about like a monk of La Trappe, saying to every one, "Brother, we must die."

Mr. Washburne received yesterday a despatch from his Government--the first which has reached him since the commencement of the siege--informing him that his conduct in remaining at Paris is approved of. With the despatch there came English newspapers up to the 3rd. Extracts from them will, I presume, be published to-morrow. I passed the afternoon greedily devouring the news at the American Legation. It was a curious sight--the Chancellerie was crowded with people engaged in the same occupation. There were several French journalists, opening their eyes very wide, under the impression that this would enable them to understand English. A Secretary of Legation was sitting at a table giving audiences to unnumbered ladies who wished to know how they could leave Paris; or, if this was impossible, how they could draw on their bankers in New York. Mr. Washburne walked about cheerily shaking everyone by the hand, and telling them to make themselves at home. How different American diplomatists are to the prim old women who represent us abroad, with a staff of half-a-dozen dandies helping each other to do nothing, who have been taught to regard all who are not of the craft as their natural enemies. At the English Embassy Colonel Claremont and a porter now represent the British nation. The former, in obedience to orders from the Foreign Office, is only waiting for a reply from Count Bismarck to his letter asking for a pass to leave us. Whether the numerous English who remain here are then to look to Mr. Washburne or to the porter for protection, I have been unable to discover.

M. Felix Pyat has been let out of prison. He says that he rather prefers being there than at liberty, for in his cell he can "forget that he is in a town inhabited by cowards," and devote himself to the works of M. Louis Blanc, which he calls the "Bibles of democracy."

Although Trochu is neither a great general nor a great statesman, he is a gentleman. I am therefore surprised that he allows obscene caricatures of the Empress to be publicly sold in the streets and exhibited in the kiosks. During the time that she occupied the throne in this most scandal-loving town, no scandal was ever whispered against her. She was fond, it is true, of dress, but she was a good mother and a good wife. Now that she and her friends are in exile, "lives of the woman Bonaparte" are hawked about, which in England would bring their authors under Lord Campbell's statute. In one caricature she is represented stark naked, with Prince Joinville sketching her. In another, called "the Spanish cow," she is made a sort of female Centaur. In another she is dancing the Can-can, and throwing her petticoats over her head, before King William, who is drinking champagne, seated on a sofa, while her husband is in a cage hung up to the wall. These scandalous caricatures have not even the merit of being funny, they are a reflection upon French chivalry, and on that of Trochu. What would he say if the Government which succeeds him were to allow his own wife to be insulted in this cowardly manner?

Anything more dreary than the Boulevards now in the evening it is difficult to imagine. Only one street lamp in three is lighted, and the _cafés_, which close at 10.30, are put on half-allowance of gas. To mend matters, everyone who likes is allowed to put up a shed on the side walk to sell his goods, or to collect a crowd by playing a dirge on a fiddle. The consequence is that the circulation is rendered almost impossible. I suggested to a high authority that the police ought at least to interfere to make these peripatetic musicians "move on," but he told me that, were they to do so, they would be accused of being "Corsicans and Reactionaries." These police are themselves most ludicrous objects; anyone coming here would suppose that they are members of some new sect of peripatetic philosophers; they walk about in pairs, arrayed in pea jackets with large hoods; and when it is wet they have umbrellas. Their business appears to be, never to interfere with the rights of their fellow-citizens to do what they please, and, so helpless do they look, that I believe if a child were to attack them, they would appeal to the passers-by for protection.

I see in an English paper of the 3rd that it is believed at Versailles that we have only fresh meat for twelve days. We are not so badly off as that. How many oxen and cows there still are I do not know; a few days ago, however, I counted myself 1,500 in a large pen. The newspapers calculate that at the commencement of the siege there were 100,000 horses in Paris, and that there are now 70,000; 30,000 will be enough for the army, consequently 40,000 can be eaten. The amount of meat on each horse averages 500 lb., consequently we have twenty million pounds of fresh horse-flesh, a quantity which will last us for more than three months at the present rate of the meat consumption. These figures are, I think, very much exaggerated. I should say that there are not more than 40,000 horses now in Paris. The _Petites Voitures_ (Cab) Company has 8,000, and offered to sell them to the Government a few days ago, but that proposal was declined. As regards salt meat, the Government keep secret the amount. It cannot, however, be very great, because it is only derived from animals which have been killed since the siege commenced. The stock of flour, we are told, is practically unlimited, and as no attempt is made to prevent its waste in pasty and fancy cakes, the authorities are acting apparently on this assumption.

The health of Paris is far from satisfactory, and when the winter weather regularly sets in there will be much sickness. No one is absolutely starving, but many are without sufficient nourishment. The Government gives orders for 10c. worth of bread to all who are in want, and these orders are accepted as money by all the bakers. In each arrondissement there are also what are called cantines économiques, where a mess of soup made from vegetables and a small quantity of meat can be bought for five centimes. Very little, however, has been done to distribute warm clothing among the poor, and when it is considered that above 100,000 persons have come into Paris from the neighbouring villages, most of whom are dependent upon public or private charity, it is evident that, even if there is no absolute want, there must be much suffering. Count Bismarck was not far wrong when he said that, if the siege be prolonged until our stock of provisions is exhausted, many thousands in the succeeding weeks will die of starvation. I would recommend those charitable persons who are anxious to come to the aid of this unfortunate country to be ready to throw provisions into Paris as soon as communications with England are reopened, rather than to subscribe their money to ambulances. All things considered, the wounded are well tended. In the hotel in which I am residing the Société Internationale has established its headquarters. We have now 160 wounded here, and beds are prepared for 400. The ambulance occupies two stories, for which 500 francs a day are paid; and an arrangement has been made with the administration of the hotel to feed each convalescent for 2.50 francs per diem. As in all French institutions, there appear to me to be far too many officials; the corridors are pervaded with young healthy men, with the red cross on their arms, who are supposed to be making themselves useful in some mysterious manner, but whose main object in being here is, I imagine, to shirk military service. The ambulance which is considered the best is the American. The wounded are under canvas, the tents are not cold, and yet the ventilation is admirable. The American surgeons are far more skilful in the treatment of gun-shot wounds than their French colleagues. Instead of amputation they practise resection of the bone. It is the dream of every French soldier, if he is wounded, to be taken to this ambulance. They seem to be under the impression that, even if their legs are shot off, the skill of the Æsculapii of the United States will make them grow again. Be this as it may, a person might be worse off than stretched on a bed with a slight wound under the tents of the Far West.

The French have a notion that, go where you may, to the top of a pyramid or to the top of Mont Blanc, you are sure to meet an Englishman reading a newspaper; in my experience of the world, the American girl is far more inevitable than the Britisher; and, of course, under the Stars and Stripes which wave over the American tents she is to be found, tending the sick, and, when there is nothing more to be got for them, patiently reading to them or playing at cards with them. I have a great weakness for the American girl, she always puts her heart in what she is about. When she flirts she does it conscientiously, and when she nurses a most uninviting-looking Zouave, or Franc-tireur, she does it equally conscientiously; besides, as a rule, she is pretty, a gift of nature which I am very far from undervaluing.

_November 16th._

It is reported in "official circles" that a second pigeon has arrived with intelligence from the French Consul at Bâle, that the Baden troops have been defeated, and that some of them have been obliged to seek refuge in Switzerland. The evident object of Trochu now is to get up the courage of our warriors to the sticking point for the grand sortie which is put off from day to day. The newspapers contain extracts from the English journals which came in the day before yesterday. By a process, in which we are adepts at believing everything which tells for us, and regarding everything which tells against us as a fabrication of perfidious Albion, we have consoled ourselves with the idea that "the situation is far better than we supposed." As for Bazaine, we cannot make up our minds whether we ought to call him a traitor or a hero. We therefore say as little about him as possible.

I have just come back from the southern outposts. The redoubts of Moulin Saqui and Hautes Bruyères were firing heavily, and the Prussians were replying from Chatillon. Their shrapnell, however, fell short, just within our advanced line. From the sound of the guns, it was supposed that they were only using field artillery. The sailors insist that the enemy has been unable to place his siege-guns in position, and that our fire knocks their earthworks to pieces. I am inclined to think that behind these earthworks there are masked batteries, for surely the Prussian Engineer Officers cannot be amusing themselves with making earthworks for the mere pleasure of seeing them knocked to pieces. Anyhow they are playing a deep game, for, as far as I can hear, they have not fired a single siege-gun yet, either against our redoubts or forts.

_November 19th._

Burke, in his work on the French Revolution, augured ill of the future of a country the greater number of whose legislators were lawyers. What would he have said of a Government composed almost exclusively of these objects of his political distrust? When history recounts the follies of the French Republic of 1870, I trust that it will not forget to mention that all the members of the Government, with the exception of one; six ministers; 13 under-secretaries of State; the Préfet of Police; 24 prefets and commissaries sent into the provinces; and 36 other high functionaries; belonged to the legal profession. The natural consequence of this is that we cannot get out of "Nisi prius." Our rulers are unable to take a large statesmanlike view of the situation. They live from hand to mouth, and never rise above the expedients and temporizing policy of advocates. They are perpetually engaged in appealing against the stern logic of facts to some imaginary tribunal, from which they hope to gain a verdict in favour of their clients. Like lawyers in England, they entered public life to "get on." This is still the first object of each one of them; and as they are deputies of Paris, they feel that, next to themselves, they owe allegiance to their electors. To secure the supremacy of Paris over the provinces, and of their own influence over Paris, is the Alpha and Omega of their political creed. With an eye to the future, each of them has his own journal; and when any decree is issued which is not popular, the public is given to understand in these semi-official organs, that every single member of the Government voted against it, although it passed by a majority.

It is somewhat strange that the military man who, by the force of circumstances, is the President of this Devil's own Government is by nature more of a lawyer than even if he had been bred up to the trade. His colleagues own in despair that he is their master in strength of lungs, and that when they split straws into two he splits them into four. In vain they fall back on their pens and indite letters and proclamations, their President out-letters and out-proclaims them. Trochu is indeed a sort of military Ollivier. He earned his spurs as a military critic, Ollivier as a civil critic. Both are clever, and eminently respectable in their private relations, and both are verbose, unpractical, and wanting in plain common sense. Ollivier had a plan, and so has Trochu. Ollivier complained when his plan failed, that it was the fault of every one except himself, and Trochu is already doing the same. Both protested against the system of rule adopted by their predecessors, and have followed in their steps. Both were advocates of publicity, and both audaciously suppressed and distorted facts to suit their convenience. Ollivier is probably now writing a book to prove that he was the wisest of ministers. Trochu, as soon as the siege is over, will write one to prove that he was the best of generals. Ollivier insisted that he could found a Liberal Government upon an Imperial basis, and miserably failed. Trochu declares that he, and he alone, can force the Prussians to raise the siege of Paris. When his plan has failed, as fail it in all probability will, he still, with that serene assurance which is the attribute of mediocrity, will insist that it ought to have succeeded. "_Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni._" Those who knew him in Brittany tell me that long before he became a personage, "le plan de Trochu" was a standing joke throughout that province. The General, it appears, is fond of piquet; whenever he sat down to play he said, "j'ai mon plan." When he got up after losing the game, as was usually the case, he went away muttering, "Cependant, mon plan était bon." He seemed to have this word "plan" on the brain, for no one who ever played with him could perceive in his mode of handling the cards the slightest trace of a plan. The mania was harmless as long as its exhibition was confined to a game in which a few francs were to be won or lost, but it becomes most serious in its consequences when the destinies of a country are subordinated to it. At the commencement of the siege, General Trochu announced that he not only had a "plan," but that he had inscribed it in his will, which was deposited with his notary. An ordinary man would have made use of the materials at his command, and, without pledging himself to success, would have endeavoured to give the provinces time to organize an army of succour by harassing the Prussians, and thus preventing them from detaching troops in all directions. Instead of this, with the exception of some two or three harmless sorties, they have been allowed slowly to inclose us in a net of circumvallations. Our provisions are each day growing more scarce, and nothing is done except to heap up defensive works to prevent the town being carried by an assault, which there is no probability that the besiegers mean to attempt. Chatillon and Meudon were ill guarded, but ditches were cut along the Avenue de l'Impératrice. The young unmarried men in Paris were not incorporated until the 50th day of the siege, but two or three times a week they were lectured on their duties as citizens by their leader. If there is really to be a sortie, everything is ready, but now the General hesitates--hints that he is not seconded, that the soldiers will not fight, and almost seems to regret at last his own theoretical presumption. "He trusted," said one of his generals to me, "first to the neutrals, then to the provinces, and now he is afraid to trust to himself." Next time a general is besieged in a town I should recommend him not to announce that he has a plan which must ensure victory, unless indeed it be a German town, where nothing which an official can do is considered ridiculous.

Benjamin Constant said of his countrymen that their heads could never contain more than one idea at once. A few days ago we were full of our victory at Orleans. Then came the question whether or not Bazaine was a traitor. To-day we have forgotten Bazaine and Orleans. The marching battalions of the National Guard are to have new coats, and we can talk or think of nothing else. The effect as yet of these marching battalions has been to disorganise the existing battalions. Every day some new decree has been issued altering their mode of formation. Perhaps the new coats will settle everything, and convert them into excellent soldiers. Let us hope it.

We are by no means satisfied with the news which has reached us through the English papers up to the 3rd. Thus the _Liberté_, after giving extracts from numbers of the _Pall Mall Gazette_, the _Daily News_, the _Daily Telegraph_, the _Sun_, the _Times_, and the _Standard_, accompanies them with the following reflections:--"We feel bound to protest in favour of the English press against the assertions of those who would judge the opinions of a great liberal nation by the wretched specimens which are under our eyes. Heaven be praised. The civilized world is not so degenerate that the ignoble conduct of Prussia fails to elicit universal reprobation." We have had two more pigeons, but Gambetta either cannot or will not let us know anything of importance. These two messengers confirm the news of the "victory of Orleans," and inform us that public opinion is daily pronouncing in favour of France, and that the condition of affairs in the provinces is most satisfactory. Such is the universal distrust felt now for any intelligence which emanates from an official source, that if Gambetta were to send us in an account of a new victory to-morrow, and if all his colleagues here were to swear to its truth, we should be in a wild state of enthusiasm for a few hours, and then disbelieve the whole story.

Small-pox is on the increase. The deaths last week from this disease amounted to 419; the general mortality to 1885--a number far above the average. The medical men complain of the amount of raw spirits which is drunk--particularly at the ramparts, and ascribe much of the ill health to this cause.

By the bye, the question of the treason of Bazaine turns with us upon what your correspondent at Saarbruck meant by the word "stores," which he says were discovered in Metz. If munitions of war, we say that Bazaine was a hero; if food, that he was a traitor.

If sieges were likely to occur frequently, the whole system of ambulances, as against military hospitals, would have to be ventilated. There are in Paris two hundred and forty-three ambulances, and when the siege commenced, such was the anxiety to obtain a _blessé_, that when a sortie took place, those who brought them in were offered bribes to take them to some house over which the flag of Geneva waved. A man with a broken leg or arm was worth thirty francs to his kind preservers. The largest ambulance is the International. Its headquarters are at the Grand Hotel. It seems to me over-manned, for the number of the healthy who receive pay and rations from its funds exceeds the number of the wounded. Many, too, of the former are young unmarried men, who ought to be serving either in the ranks of the army, or at least of the Garde Nationale. The following story I take from an organ of public opinion of to-day's date:--A lady went to her Mairie to ask to be given a wounded soldier to look after. She was offered a swarthy Zouave. "No," she said, "I wish for a blonde, being a brunette myself"--nothing like a contrast.