Chapter 2

_September 22nd._

I sent off a letter yesterday in a balloon; whether it reaches its destination, or is somewhere in the clouds, you will know before I do. The difficulties of getting through the lines are very great, and will become greater every day. The Post-office says that it tries to send letters through, but I understand that the authorities have little hope of succeeding. Just now I saw drawn up in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel a travelling carriage, with hampers of provisions, luggage, and an English flag flying. Into it stepped four Britons. Their passports were viséd, they said, by their Embassy, and they were starting for England _viâ_ Rouen. Neither French nor Prussians would, they were convinced, stop them. I did not even confide a letter to their hands, as they are certain, even if they get through the French outposts, to be arrested by the Prussians and turned back. Yesterday on the return of Jules Favre he announced that the King of Prussia required as a condition of Peace the cession of Alsace and Lorraine, and as the condition of an armistice immediate possession of Metz, Strasburg, and Mont Valérien. The Government immediately met, and a proclamation was at once posted on the walls signed by all the members. After stating it had been reported that the Government was inclined to abandon the policy to which it owed its existence, it goes on in the following words:--"Our policy is this. Neither an inch of our territory nor a stone of our fortresses. The Government will maintain this until the end."

Yesterday afternoon we "manifested" against peace. We "manifest" by going, if we are in the National Guard, with bouquets at the ends of our muskets to deposit a crown of _immortelles_ before the statue of Strasburg. If we are unarmed, we walk behind a drum to the statue and sing the "Marseillaise." At the statue there is generally some orator on a stool holding forth. We occasionally applaud him, but we never listen to him. After this we go to the Place before the Hôtel de Ville, and we shout "Point de Paix." We then march down the Boulevards, and we go home satisfied that we have deserved well of our country. As yesterday was the anniversary of the proclamation of the First Republic, we were in a very manifesting mood. M. Gambetta issued proclamations every half hour, calling upon us, in more or less flowery language, to die for our country. M. Arago, the Mayor, followed suit, heading his manifestoes with the old, rallying cry, "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité." I suppose the French are so constituted that they really cannot exist without processions, bouquets to statues, and grand phrases. Notwithstanding all this humbug, a large portion of them mean, I am sure, to fight it out. They have taken it into their heads that Paris can be successfully defended, and if it is not, they are determined that it shall not be their fault. It is intended, I understand, to keep well beneath the cover of the forts, not to risk engagements more than is necessary--gradually to convert the splendid raw material of the Mobiles into good soldiers, by accustoming them to be under fire, and then, if things go well, to fall on one or other of the Prussian armies. It is hoped, too, that the Prussian communications will be menaced. Such is the plan, and every one pretends to believe that it will succeed; whether they are right or wrong time will show.

The Government, an ex-diplomatist, who has been talking to several of its members this morning, tells me, is a "unit." There was a party ready to accept the dismantling of Metz and Strasburg, but as this concession will not disarm the Prussians, they have rallied to the "not a stone of one fortress" declaration.

Of course I cannot be expected to give aid and comfort to our besiegers by telling them, if they seize this letter, what is being done inside to keep them out. But this I think it will do them no harm to know. The National Guard man the ramparts. In the angles of the bastions there are Mobiles. At points close by the ramparts there are reserves of Mobiles and National Guards, ready at a moment's notice both by day and night to reinforce them. In the centre of the town there are reserves under arms. Outside the gates, between the forts and the ramparts, troops are massed with artillery, and the forts are well garrisoned. A gentleman who has lately been under a cloud, as he was the inventor of the Orsini bombs, has several thousand men at work on infernal machines. This magician assures me that within a week he will destroy the German armies as completely as were the Assyrians who besieged Samaria under Sennacherib. He is an enthusiast, but an excellent chemist, and I really have hopes that he will before long astonish our friends outside. He promises me that I shall witness his experiments in German corpore vili; and though I have in mind a quotation about being hoisted with one's own petard, I shall certainly keep him to his word. On the whole the King of Prussia, to use Mr. Lincoln's phrase, will find it a big job to take Paris if the Parisians keep to their present mood. Mr. Washburne told me yesterday that he does not think he shall leave. There is to be a consultation of the Corps Diplomatique to-morrow, under the presidency of the Nuncio, to settle joint action. I admire the common sense of Mr. Washburne. He called two days ago upon the Government to express his sympathy with them. Not being a man of forms and red tape, instead of going to the Foreign-office, he went to the Hôtel de Ville, found a Council sitting, shook hands all round, and then withdrew. I have serious thoughts of taking up my quarters at the English Embassy. It belongs to me as one of the nation, and I see no reason why I should not turn my property to some account.

Yesterday's papers contained an official announcement that a company of mutual assurance against the consequences of the bombardment has been formed. Paris is divided into three zones, and according to the danger proprietors of houses situated in each of them are to be admitted into the company on payment of one, two, or three per cent. It comforts me, comparatively, to find that I am in the one per cent. zone, and, unless my funds give way, I shall remain there.

Spies are being arrested every half hour. Many mistakes are made from over zeal, but there is no doubt that a good many Germans are in the town disguised in French uniforms. The newspapers ask what becomes of them all, and suggest that they should be publicly shot. It is beautiful weather, and as I sit writing this at my open window I have great difficulty in believing that we are cut off from the rest of the world by a number of victorious armies, who mean to burn or starve us out. M. John Lemoinne in the _Journal des Débats_ this morning has a very sensible article upon the position of the Government. He says that between the first and the second of these two ultimatums there is a vast difference, and he exhorts the Government to stand by the first, but not to refuse peace if it can be obtained by the dismantling of Metz and Strasburg. The _Temps_ of this evening takes the same view of the proclamation. The ultra Republican journals, on the other hand, support the policy of the Government. M. Felix Pyat, in his organ, _Le Combat_, urges war to the death, and proposes that we should at once have Spartan banquets, at which rich and poor should fare alike. A proposal has been made to start a national subscription for a musket of honour to be given to the man who shoots the King of Prussia. There are already 2,000 subscribers of one sou each to the testimonial. The latest proclamation I have seen on the walls is one from the Mayor of Paris, informing the public that the coachmen of Paris are not to be ill-treated by their fares because they are not on the ramparts. As the coachmen of Paris are usually excessively insolent, I shall not be sorry to hear that they have at length met with their deserts. A coachman who was driving me yesterday told me in the strictest confidence that he was a man who never meddled in politics, and, consequently, it was a matter of absolute indifference to him whether Napoleon or a "General Prussien" lived in the Tuileries; and this, I suspect, is the view that many here take, if they only dared say it.

It is amusing to observe how every one has entered into the conspiracy to persuade the world that the French nation never desired war--to hear them, one would suppose that the Rhine had never been called the national frontier of France, and that the war had been entered into by Badinguet, as they style the late Emperor, against the wishes of the army, the peasantry, and the bourgeoisie. Poor old Badinguet has enough to answer for already, but even sensible Frenchmen have persuaded themselves that he, and he alone, is responsible for the war. He is absolutely loathed here. I sometimes suggest to some Gaul that he may possibly be back again some day; the Gaul immediately rolls his eyes, clenches his fists, and swears that if ever Badinguet returns to Paris he (the Gaul) will himself shoot him.

An American, who took an active part in the Confederate defence of Richmond, has just been in to see me. He does not believe that the town will hold out long, and scoffs at the mode in which it is being defended. I reserve my opinion until I have seen it under fire. Certainly they "do protest too much." The papers contain lists of citizens who have sworn to die rather than surrender. The bourgeois, when he goes off to the ramparts, embraces his wife in public, and assumes a martial strut as though he were a very Curtius on the way to the pit. Jules is perpetually hugging Jacques, and talking about the altar of his country on which he means to mount. I verily believe that the people walking on the Boulevards, and the assistants of the shops who deal out their wares, in uniform, are under the impression that they are heroes already, perilling life and limb for their country. Every girl who trips along thinks that she is a Maid of Saragossa. It is almost impossible for an Englishman to realise the intense delight which a Frenchman has in donning a uniform, strutting about with a martial swagger, and listening to a distant cannonade. As yet the only real hardships we have suffered have been that our fish is a little stale, and that we are put on short allowance of milk. The National Guards on the ramparts, I hear, grumble very much at having to spend the night in the open air. The only men I think I can answer for are the working men of the outer faubourgs and a portion of the Provincial Gardes Mobiles. They do mean to fight. Some of the battalions of the National Guards will fight too, but I should be afraid to trust the greater portion of them, even behind earthworks. "Remember," says the _Figaro_ to them to-day, "that you have wives and children; do not be too venturesome." This advice, I think, was hardly needed. As for the regular troops, they are not to be trusted, and I am not sorry to think that there are 10,000 sailors in the forts to man the guns.

We have been manifesting again to-day. I was in hopes that this nonsense was over. On the Place de la Concorde there was a crowd all the afternoon, applauding orators, and companies of National Guards were bringing bouquets to the statue of Strasburg. At the Hôtel de Ville a deputation of officers of the National Guards came to urge the Government to put off the elections. After a short parley this was promised. Another demonstration took place to urge the Government not to make peace, to accept as their colleagues some "friends of the people," and to promise not to re-establish in any form a police force. An evasive answer was given to these demonstrators. It seems to me that the Government, in its endeavours to prevent a collision between the moderates and the ultras, yield invariably to the latter. What is really wanted is a man of energy and determined will. I doubt if Trochu has either.

The bold Britons who tried to run the blockade have returned. They managed to get over the bridge of Neuilly, but were arrested a few yards beyond it and brought back to General Ducrot. One of them was taken in with the passports of the five. "I cannot understand you English," the General said; "if you want to get shot we will shoot you ourselves to save you trouble." After some parley, General Ducrot gave them a pass to go through the French lines, but then he withdrew it, and said he must consult General Trochu. When the spokesman emerged, he found his friends being led off by a fresh batch of patriots for having no passports, but they at length got safely back to the Grand Hotel. Their leader, who is an intelligent man in his way, gives a very discouraging account of what he saw outside. The Mobiles were lying about on the roads, and everyone appeared to be doing much what he pleased. This afternoon I went up to the Trocadero to look at the heights on which they say that there are already Prussian guns. They appear most uncomfortably near. Those who had telescopes declared that they could see both guns and Prussians. We were always told until within a few days that Mont Valérien would protect all that side of Paris. How can the engineers have made such a mistake?

This evening I went to call upon one of the chiefs of '48, and had an interesting conversation with him. He says that many think that he and his friends ought to be in the Government, and that eventually they all will be; he added "the Reds are determined to fight, and so long as the Government does not make a humiliating peace they will support it." I tried to get out what he considered a humiliating peace, but he rather fenced with the question. He tells me that at the Folies Bergères, the headquarters of the ultras, great dissatisfaction is felt with the Committees of the "Clubs" for having gone yesterday to the Hôtel de Ville, and endeavoured to force the Government to declare that it would not treat with the Prussians whilst they were on French soil, and to allow them to establish a "Commune" as an _imperium in imperio_. "The army of the Loire," said my friend, "will soon fall on the rear of the Prussians; we have only to hold out for a few weeks, and this, depend upon it, we shall do." Now, to the best of my belief, the army of the Loire only exists on paper, but here was a sensible man talking of it as though it consisted of some 200,000 seasoned troops; and what is more strange, he is by no means singular in his belief. A fortnight ago it was the army of Lyons, now it is the army of the Loire. How reasonable men can allow themselves to put their faith in these men of buckram, I cannot imagine.

_September 23rd._

Firing has been going on since three o'clock this morning. The newspapers contain accounts more or less veracious respecting fights outside the forts, in which great numbers of Prussians have been killed. M. Jules Favre publishes an account of his interview with Count Bismarck in the _Journal Officiel_. M. Villemessant in the _Figaro_ informs the world that he has left his wife outside, and would willingly allow one of his veins to be opened in exchange for a letter from her. We are still engaged in our old occupation--vowing to die for our country. I hear that there has been serious fighting in the neighbourhood of St. Denis. This morning I saw another of the '48 Republicans--he seemed inclined to upset the Government more on the ground that they are incapable than because he differs with them in politics. I give this letter to a friend who will get it into the balloon, and go off to the Trocadero, to see how things are getting on.

The Solferino Tower on the Buttes Montmartre has been pulled down. No one is to be allowed to hoist the Geneva flag unless the house contains at least six beds for wounded. We have now a bread as well as a meat maximum.

_September 24th._

We are as despondent to-day as we were jubilant yesterday. The success at the front seems to have dwindled down to an insignificant artillery combat. The _Electeur Libre_ gives the following account of it. On the previous evening 8,000 Prussians had taken the redoubt of _Villejuif_. At one in the morning some regiments advanced from there towards Vitry, and occupied the mill of Saqui, while on the left about 5,000 established themselves on the plateau of Hautes-Bruyères. The division of General Maud'huy re-took these positions. At five o'clock in the morning the Prussians tried to occupy them a second time, but failed, and at half-past seven o'clock they fell back. At nine they attacked again, when a column of our troops, issuing from the Porte d'Italie, arrived. The fray went on until ten o'clock, when the Prussians retreated towards Sceaux. This tallies to a great extent with what I was told by an officer this morning who had taken part in the engagement.

The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree cashiering M. Devienne, President of the Cour de Cassation, and sending him to be judged by his own court, for having been the intermediary between Badinguet and his mistress, Marguerite Bellanger. Two letters are published which seem to leave no doubt that this worthy judge acted as the go-between of the two lovers.

Mr. George Sanders, whilom United States Consul in London, and one of the leaders of the ex-Confederacy, is here; he is preparing plans for a system of rifle pits and zigzags outside the fortifications, at the request of General Trochu. Mr. Sanders, who took an active part in the defence of Richmond, declares that Paris is impregnable, if it be only well defended. He complains, however, that the French will not use the spade.

4 _o'clock_ P.M.

We have been in a state of wild enthusiasm all this afternoon. At about 1 o'clock it was rumoured that 20,000 Prussians and 40 cannon had been taken. There had been a heavy firing, it was said, this morning, and a Prussian force had approached near the forts of Ivry and Bicêtre. General Vinoy had issued forth from Vincennes, and, getting behind them, had forced them under the guns of the forts, where they were taken prisoners. The Boulevards immediately were crowded; here a person announcing that he had a despatch from the front, here another vowing he had been there himself. Wherever a drum was heard there was a cry of "Here come the prisoners!" Tired of this, at about 4 o'clock I drove to Montrouge. It is a sort of Parisian Southwark. I found all the inhabitants lining the streets, waiting, too, for news. A regiment marched in, and there was a cry that it had come from the front; then artillery filed by out of the city gate. I tried myself to pass, and had got half-way through before I was stopped, then I was turned back. The prisoners here, close by the scene of action, had dwindled down to 5,000. Imagine Southwark, with every man armed in it, and a battle going on at Greenwich, and you will have an idea of the excitement of Montrouge.

6 _o'clock_ P.M.

The Boulevards almost impassable; the streets before the Mairies absolutely impassable; no official confirmation of the victory. Everyone who is not inventing news is waiting for it. A proclamation has been issued by General Trochu conceived in a very sensible spirit, telling the National Guard that the moment is ill chosen for pacific demonstrations, with crowns and bouquets. I hear that some of the soldiers who ran away at Clamart have been shot.

Some of the papers discovered in the Tuileries are published. There is a letter from Jecker to Conti, in which he says that De Morny had promised him to get the Mexican Government to pay his claims on condition of receiving 30 per cent. of profits. A letter signed Persigny complains that an _employé_ in the Cabinet Noir is in want, and ought to be given money to prevent his letting out secrets. A letter from the Queen of Holland tells Napoleon that if he does not interfere in Germany his own dynasty will suffer. A note of the Emperor, without date, says, "If France boldly places itself on the terrain of the nationalities, it is necessary to prove that the Belgian nationality does not exist. The Cabinet of Berlin seeming ready to enter into negotiations, it would be well to negotiate a secret _acte_, which would pledge both parties. This act would have the double advantage of compromising Prussia and of being for her a pledge of the sincerity of the Emperor." The note then goes on to say that it is necessary to dissipate the apprehensions of Prussia. "An _acte_ is wanted," it continues; "and one which would consist of a regulation of the ulterior fate of Belgium in concert with Prussia would, by proving at Berlin that the Emperor desires the extension which is necessary to France since the events which have taken place in Germany, be at least a relative certainty that the Prussian Government would not object to our aggrandisement towards the North."

I drove this morning through the fighting faubourgs with a member of the Barricade Committee. Barricades are being erected everywhere, and they are even stronger than the outer fortifications. There are, too, some agreeable little chemical surprises for the Prussians if ever they get into the town. In reply to some suggestions which I made, my friend said, "Leave these people to form their own plans. They understand street fighting better than any one in the world." At La Villette, Crenelle, and other faubourgs inhabited by the blouses, there is no lack of patriotism, and they will blow themselves and their homes up rather than yield.

The bold Britons started again in their Derby turn-out yesterday. Nothing has been heard of them since. We do not know whether they have been imprisoned or what has become of them. I have already entrusted my letters to balloons, boatmen, peasants, and Americans, but I do not know whether they have reached you or not. The last balloon was pursued by a Prussian one, the newspapers say!

Yesterday the Nuncio called together all the diplomatists still here, and they determined to try to communicate with Bismarck. They seem to imagine that a twenty-four hours' notice will be given before a bombardment commences, when they will have time to get out. I send this letter by a Government balloon. I shall send a copy to-morrow by a private balloon, if it really does start as announced.

The _Gazette Officielle_ "unites with many citizens in asking Louis Blanc to go to England, to obtain the sympathies of the English nation for the Republic." This is all very well, but how is he to get there?

_September 25th._

No news of any importance from the front. It is a fête day, but there are few holiday makers. The presence of the Prussians at the gates, and the sound of the cannon, have at last sobered this frivolous people. Frenchmen, indeed, cannot live without exaggeration, and for the last twenty-four hours they have taken to walking about as if they were guests at their own funerals. It is hardly in their line to play the _justum et tenacem_ of Horace. Always acting, they are now acting the part of Spartans. It is somewhat amusing to see the stern gloom on the face of patriots one meets, who were singing and shouting a few days ago--more particularly as it is by no means difficult to distinguish beneath this outward gloom a certain keen relish, founded upon the feeling that the part is well played. One thing, however, is certain, order has at length been evolved from disorder. Except in the morning, hardly any armed men are to be seen in the streets, and even in the central Boulevards, except when there is a report of some success or during an hour in the evening, there are no crowds. In the fighting faubourgs there is a real genuine determination to fight it out to the last. The men there have arms, and they have not cared to put on uniforms. Men, women, and children are all of one mind in the quarters of the working men. I have been much struck with the difference between one of these poor fellows who is prepared to die for the honour of his country, between his quiet, calm demeanour, and the absurd airs, and noisy brawls, and the dapper uniforms of the young fellows one meets with in the fashionable quarters. It is the difference between reality and sham, bravery and bombast.

The newspapers are beginning to complain of the number of Chevaliers of the Red Cross, who are daily becoming more numerous. Strong men, they say, should not enrol themselves in a corps of non-combatants. It is said, also, that at Clamart these chevaliers declined to go under fire and pick up the wounded, and that the ambulances themselves made a strategic movement to the rear at the commencement of the combat. The flag of the Convention of Geneva is on far too many houses. From my window I can count fifteen houses with this flag floating over them.

We have most wonderful stories about the Prussians, which, although they are generally credited, I take leave to doubt. Villagers who have slipped through the lines, and who play the part of the intelligent contraband of the American Civil War, are our informants. They represent the Prussian army without food, almost without clothing, bitterly repenting their advance into France, demoralised by the conviction that few of their number will be again in their homes. We are treated every day, too, to the details of deeds of heroism on the part of Mobiles and Nationaux, which would make Achilles himself jealous. There is, we are told, a wonderful artilleryman in the fort before St. Denis, the perfection of whose aim carries death and destruction into the Prussian ranks.

I am not sorry to learn that the sale of the ultra papers is not large. M. Blanqui's office was yesterday broken into by some National Guards, who made it clear to this worthy that he had ill chosen his moment to attack the Government. I have not myself the slightest dread of a general pillage. The majority of the working men no doubt entertain extreme Socialist ideas, but any one of them who declined to make any distinction between his property and that of his richer neighbours would be very roughly handled. So long as the Government sticks to its policy of no surrender, it will be supported by the faubourgs; if, however, it attempts to capitulate upon humiliating terms, it will be ejected from the Hôtel de Ville. A sharp bombardment may, perhaps, make a change in public opinion, but I can only speak of the opinion of to-day. The Government declares that it can never run short of ammunition; but it seems to me that we cannot fire off powder and projectiles eternally, and that one of these mornings we shall be told that we must capitulate, as there is no more ammunition. Americans who are here, complain very much of the Parisians for not using the spade more than they do. Earthworks, which played so large a part in the defence both of Sebastopol and Richmond, are unknown at Paris. Barricades made of paving stones in the streets, and forts of solid masonry outside, are considered the _ne plus ultra_ of defensive works. For one man who will go to work to shovel earth, you may find a thousand who will shoulder a musket. "Paris may be able to defend itself," the Americans say, "but it is not defending itself after what our generals would consider the most approved method." We have no intelligence of what is passing in France beyond our lines. We presume that a great army is forming beyond the Loire; but yesterday a friend of mine, who received this assurance from M. Gambetta, could not discover that he had any reason to believe it, except the hope that it was true.

It is a somewhat singular thing that Rochefort, who was regarded even by his friends as a vain, mad-brained demagogue, has proved himself one of the most sensible and practical members of the Government. He has entirely subordinated his own particular views to the exigencies of the defence of the capital; and it is owing to his good sense that the ultras have not indulged in any revolutionary excesses.

I have already endeavoured to forward to you, by land, water, and air, copies of the Tuileries papers which have been published. That poor old pantaloon, Villemessant, the proprietor and editor of the _Figaro_, who is somewhat roughly handled by them, attempts to defend himself in his paper this morning, but utterly fails to do so. His interested connection with the Imperial Government is proved without the shadow of a doubt, and I trust that it will also prove the death of his newspaper, which has long been a disgrace to the press of France. I went to look after the proprietor of another paper yesterday, as he had promised me that, come what may, he would get his own and my letters through the Prussian lines. My friend, I found, had taken himself off to safe quarters before the last road was closed. For my part I despise any Parisian who has not remained here to defend his native city, whether he be Imperialist or Republican, noble or merchant.

_Evening (Sunday)._

They could stand it no longer; the afternoon was too fine. Stern patriotism unbent, and tragic severity of demeanour was forgotten. The Champs Elysées and the Avenue de la Grande Armée were full of people. Monsieur shone by his absence; he was at the ramparts, or was supposed to be there; but his wife, his children, his _bonne_, and his kitchen wench issued forth, oblivious alike of dull care and of bombarding Prussians, to enjoy themselves after their wont by gossiping and lolling in the sun. The Strasburg fetish had its usual crowd of admirers. Every bench in the Champs Elysées was occupied. Guitars twanged, organs were ground, merry-go-rounds were in full swing, and had it not been that here and there some regiment was drilling, one would have supposed oneself in some country fair. There were but few men; no fine toilets, no private carriages. It was a sort of Greenwich-park. At the Arc de Triomphe was a crowd trying to discover what was going on upon the heights above Argenteuil. Some declared they saw Prussians, while others with opera glasses declared that the supposed Prussians were only trees. In the Avenue de l'Impératrice was a large crowd gazing upon the Fort of Mont Valérien. This fort, because I presume it is the strongest for defence, is the favourite of the Parisians. They love it as a sailor loves his ship. "If I were near enough," said a girl near me, "I would kiss it." "Let me carry your kiss to it," replied a Mobile, and the pair embraced, amid the cheers of the people round them. At Auteuil there were _fiacres_ full of sightseers, come to watch the Prussian batteries at Meudon, which could be distinctly seen. Occasionally, too, there came a puff of smoke from one of the gunboats.

_September 26th._

Do the Prussians really mean to starve us out? The Government gave out a fortnight ago that there was food then within the city for two months' consumption for a population of two millions. It is calculated that, including the Mobiles, there are not above 1,500,000 mouths at present to feed, so that with proper care the supplies may be made to last for three months. Prices are, however, already rising. We have a bread and a meat maximum, but to force a butcher to sell you a cutlet at the tariff price, one has to go with a corporal's guard, which cannot always be procured. The _Gazette Officielle_ contains a decree regulating the sale of horse-flesh. I presume if the siege lasts long enough, dogs, rats, and cats will be tariffed. I have got 1000 francs with me. It is impossible to draw upon England; consequently, I see a moment coming when, unless rats are reasonable, I shall not be able to afford myself the luxury of one oftener than once a week. When I am at the end of my 1000 francs, I shall become an advocate for Felix Pyat's public tables, at which, as far as I understand his plan, those who have money pay, and those who have not, eat.

Yesterday was a quiet day. The forts occasionally fired to "sound the enemy's lines," but that was all. But how is it all to end? In a given time the Parisians will eat themselves out and fire themselves out. The credulity of the public is as great as ever. We are told that "France is rising, and that in a few weeks three armies will throw themselves on the Prussians, who are already utterly disorganised." In vain I ask, "But what if these three armies do not make their appearance?" I am regarded as an idiot for venturing to discredit a notorious fact. If I dared, I would venture to suggest to some of my warlike friends that a town which simply defends itself by shutting its gates, firing into space, and waiting for apocryphal armies, is not acting a very heroic part.

M.F. Pyat announces in the _Combat_ that the musket of honour which is to be given to the man who shoots the King of Prussia is to have inscribed upon it the word "Peacemaker." We have taken it into our heads that the German army, Count Bismarck, the Crown Prince, and all the Generals of the Corps d'Armée are in favour of peace, and the only obstacle to its being at once concluded lies in the obstinacy of the Monarch, whom we usually term "that mystic drunkard."

The _Rappel_ contains the report of a meeting which was held last night of all the Republican Committees. Resolutions were adopted blaming the Government for putting off the municipal elections. The adjournment, however, of these elections is, I am convinced, regarded as a salutary measure by a majority even of the ultras.

I dropped into the English Embassy this morning to see what was doing there. Mr. Wodehouse, I understand, intends to leave before the bombardment commences. He is a civilian, and cannot be blamed for this precautionary measure. I cannot, however, but suppose that the military attaché, who is a colonel in the army, will remain. There is a notion among the members of the Corps Diplomatique that the Prussians before they bombard the town will summon it to surrender. But it seems to me very doubtful whether they will do so. Indeed, I for one shall not believe in a general bombardment before I see it. To starve us out seems to me their safest game. Were they to fire on the town, the public opinion of the civilised world would pronounce against them.

The Mobiles, who receive 1 franc 50 centimes a day, complain that they are unable to support themselves on this pittance. The conduct of these peasants is above all praise. Physically and morally they are greatly the superiors of the ordinary run of Parisians. They are quiet, orderly, and, as a rule, even devout. Yesterday I went into the Madeleine, where some service was going on. It was full of Mobiles listening to the prayers of the priest. The Breton regiments are accompanied by their priests, who bless them before they go on duty. If the Parisians were not so thoroughly conceited, one might hope that the presence of these villagers would have a beneficial effect upon them, and show them that the Frenchmen out of Paris are worth more than those within it. The generation of Parisians which has arrived at manhood during the existence of the Empire is, perhaps, the most contemptible that the world has ever seen. If one of these worthies is rich enough, his dream has been to keep a mistress in splendour; if this has been above his means, he has attempted to hang on to some wealthy _vaurien_. The number of persons without available means who somehow managed to live on the fat of the land without ever doing a single day's honest work had become enormous. Most of them have, on some pretext or other, sneaked out of Paris. One sees now very few ribbons of the Legion of Honour, notwithstanding the reckless profusion with which this order was lavished. The Emperor's flock, marked with the red streak, have disappeared.

We have received news through a carrier pigeon that one of the postal balloons has reached Tours. I trust that it will have carried my letter to you. I intend henceforward to confide my letter to the post every second day, and as I have got a copying machine, to send copy by any messenger who is attempting to run the blockade. We are told that balloons are to leave every evening; but as the same announcement informs us that they will not only take letters but officials appointed to functions in the provinces, I am afraid that there is almost too much promised to render it likely that the programme will be carried out.

_Afternoon._

I have just made an attempt to see what is going on between the forts and the ramparts, which has been a failure. I had obtained an order to circulate for the necessities of the defence from a member of the Government, and with this in my pocket I presented myself at several of the gates. In vain I showed my pass, in vain I insisted upon the serious consequences to Paris in general, and to the officer whom I was addressing in particular, if I were not allowed to fulfil my circulating mission. I had to give it up at last, and to content myself with circulating inside the ramparts. On them, however, I managed to get, thanks to a tradesman with whom I had often dealt, who was in command. I was told that a member of the Government, his name no one seemed to know, had addressed the "poste" yesterday, and urged the men to resist until one or other of the armies which were forming in the provinces could arrive and crush the enemy. Everything appeared, where I was, ready for an attack. The sentinels were posted at short intervals, the artillerymen were lying about near their guns, and in the Rue des Remparts there were several hundred National Guards. They seemed to be taking things easily, complained that the nights were a little chilly and that business at home was at a standstill. In the course of my walk I saw a great many barricades in process of formation. Eventually, I presume, we shall have a second line of defences within the outer walls. This second line has already been divided, like the ramparts, into nine sections, each with a separate commander. I met at least a dozen _soi-disant_ Prussian spies being conducted to prison. Each of them was surrounded by twelve men, with bayonets fixed. Coming home I saw nine French soldiers with placards bearing the inscription, "Miserable cowards." Of course, the usual crowd accompanied them. I heard that they were on their way to be shot.

The newspapers of this afternoon make a good deal of noise about the exploits of the gunboat in the bend of the Seine between Point du Jour and Boulogne. They claim that its gun has dismounted the Prussian batteries on the terrace of Meudon, and that it successfully engaged several field batteries which fired upon it from the Park of St. Cloud. This may or may not be true. We are also called upon to believe that five shots from Fort Ivry destroyed the Prussian batteries at Choisy le Roi.

The latest proclamation issued is one from General Trochu, in which he says that it was the fault of no one that the redoubts which were in course of construction when the Prussians arrived before the town were not finished, and that they were abandoned for strategical reasons.

The latest Ultra paper publishes the account of a meeting which was remarkable, it observes, for the "excellent spirit which animated it, and the serious character of the speeches which were delivered at it." This is one of these serious orations--"The Citizen Arthur de Fonvielle recommends all citizens to exercise the greatest vigilance as regards the manoeuvres of the police, and more especially those of the Préfet of the Police. This Ministry has passed from the hands of a Corsican into those of one of the assassins of the Mexican Republic." I derive considerable amusement from the perusal of the articles which are daily published reviling the world in general for not coming to the aid of Paris. I translate the opening paragraphs of one of them which I have just read:--"In the midst of events which are overwhelming us, there is something still more melancholy than our defeat: it is our isolation. For a month the world has looked on with an impassibility, mingled with shame and cynicism, at the ruin of a capital which possesses the most exquisite gifts of sociability, the principal jewel of Europe, and the eternal ornament of civilisation." Nothing like having a good opinion of oneself.

_Evening._

I hear of some one going to try to-morrow to get through the lines, so I give him a copy of this letter. My last letter went off--or rather did not go off--by a private balloon. The speculator rushed in, just as I expected him to be off, and said, "Celestine has burst." To my horror I discovered that he was speaking of the balloon. He then added, "Ernestine remains to us," and to Ernestine I confided my letter. I have not seen the speculator since; it may be that Ernestine has burst too.

The latest _canard_ is that 10,000 Prussians are in a wood near Villejuif, where they have been driven by the French. As they in the most cowardly manner decline to come out of it, the wily Parisian braves are rubbing the outer circle of trees over with petroleum, as a preparatory step to burn them out. This veracious tale is believed by two-thirds of Paris.