Part 13 (2/2)

The society at my second-cla.s.s restaurant is varied. Many are regular customers, and we all know each other. There are officers who come there whenever they get leave from outside--hardy, well-set fellows, who take matters philosophically and professionally. They make the most of their holiday, and enjoy themselves without much thought of the morrow. Then there are tradesmen who wear kepis, as they belong to the National Guard. They are not in such good spirits. Their fortunes are ebbing away, and in their hearts I think they would, although their cry is still ”no surrender,” be glad if all were over. They talk in low tones, and pocket a lump of the sugar which they are given with their coffee.

Occasionally an ex-dandy comes in. I see him look anxiously around to make sure that no other dandy sees him in so unfas.h.i.+onable a resort. The dandy keeps to himself, and eyes us haughtily, for we are too common folk for the like of him. Traviatas, too, are not wanting in the second-cla.s.s restaurant. Sitting by me yesterday was a girl who in times gone by I had often seen driving in a splendid carriage in the Bois.

Her silks and satins, her jewellery and her carriage, had vanished.

There are no more Russian Princes, no more Boyards, no more Milords to minister to her extravagances. She was eating her horse as though she had been ”poor but honest” all her life; and as I watched her was.h.i.+ng the n.o.ble steed down with a pint of vin ordinaire, I realized the alteration which this siege was effecting in the condition of all cla.s.ses. But the strangest _habitues_ of the restaurant are certain stalwart, middle-aged men, who seem to consider that their function in life is to grieve over their country, and to do nothing else for it.

They walk in as though they were the soldiers of Leonidas on the high road to Thermopylae--they sit down as though their stools were curule chairs--they scowl at anyone who ventures to smile, as though he were guilty of a crime--and they talk to each other in accents of gloomy resolve. When anyone ventures to hint at a capitulation, they bound in their seats, and cry, _On verra_. Sorrow does not seem to have disturbed their appet.i.tes, and, as far as I can discover, they have managed to escape all military duty. No human being can be so unhappy, however, as they look. They remind me of the heir at the funeral of a rich relative.

Speaking of funerals reminds me that the newspapers propose that the undertakers, like the butchers, should be tariffed. They are making too good a thing out of the siege. They have raised their prices so exorbitantly that the poor complain that it is becoming impossible for them even to die.

A letter found, or supposed to be found, in the pocket of a dead German from his Gretchen is published to-day. ”If you should happen to pillage a jeweller's shop,” says this practical young lady, ”don't forget me, but get me a pretty pair of earrings.” The family of this warrior appears to be inclined to look after the main chance; for the letter goes on to say that his mother had knitted him a jacket, but having done so, has worn it herself ever since instead of sending it to him.

Gretchen will never get her earrings, and the mother may wear her jacket now without feeling that she is depriving her son of it, for the poor fellow lies under three feet of soil near Le Bourget.

_December 30th._

I hear that a story respecting a council which was held a few days ago, at which Trochu was requested to resign, is perfectly true. Picard and Jules Favre said that if he did resign they should do so also, and the discussion was closed by the General himself saying, ”I feel myself equal to the situation, and I shall remain.” Yesterday evening there were groups everywhere, discussing the withdrawal of the troops from Avron. It was so bitterly cold, however, that they soon broke up. This morning the newspapers, one and all, abuse Trochu. Somehow or other, they say, he always fails in everything he undertakes. I hear from military men that the feeling in the army is very strong against him.

While the bombardment was going on at Avron he exposed himself freely to the fire, but instead of superintending the operations he att.i.tudinized and made speeches. General Ducrot, who was there, and between whom and Trochu a certain coldness has sprung up, declared that he had always been opposed to any attempt to retain this position. The behaviour of Vinoy was that of a soldier. He was everywhere encouraging his men. What I cannot understand is why, if Avron was to be held, it was not fortified. It must have been known that the Prussians could, if they pleased, bring a heavy concentric fire from large siege guns to bear upon it. Casemates and strong earthworks might have been made--but nothing was done. I was up there the other day, and I then asked an engineer officer why due precautions were not being taken; but he only shrugged his shoulders in reply. General Vinoy, who was in the Crimea, says that all that the French, English, and Russians did there was child's play in comparison with the Prussian artillery. From the size of the unburst sh.e.l.ls which have been picked up, their cannon must be enormous. The question now is, whether the forts will be able to hold out against them. The following account of what has taken place from the _Verite_ is by far the best which has been published:--

”Notwithstanding that the fire of the enemy slackened on the 26th, the Prussians were not losing their time. Thanks to the hardness of the soil, and to the fog, they had got their guns into position in all their batteries from Villenomble to Montfermeil. The injury done to the park of Drancy by the precision of the aim of our artillery at Fort Nogent was repaired; cannon were brought to the trenches which the day before we had occupied at Ville Evrart; and, as well as it was possible, twelve new batteries, armed with cannon of long range, were unmasked. All through the 28th the fire continued; sh.e.l.ls fell thickly on our batteries, and in the village of Rosny. The roof of the station was knocked in, and several Mobiles were killed in the main street. The evacuation of the church, which had been converted into an ambulance, was thought advisable. All this, however, was nothing in comparison with the fire which was poured in during the night. The plateau of Avron was literally inundated with sh.e.l.ls, many of them of far larger size than had previously been fired. The range of the guns was too great, and it was evident that the Prussians had rectified their aim. Their projectiles no longer fell wide in the field; they almost all burst close to the trenches. Two guns in battery No. 2 were struck; the same thing soon occurred in battery No. 3. Every moment the wheels of some ammunition waggon were struck, or one of the horses killed. Several men were wounded in the trenches, which were so shallow as to afford little protection. Two sh.e.l.ls bursting at the same moment killed a naval officer and three men at one of the guns. All who were so imprudent as to venture to attempt to cross the plateau were struck down. It was a sad and terrible spectacle to see these sailors coolly endeavouring to point their guns, undisturbed by the rain of fire; while their officers, who were encouraging them, were falling every moment, covering those round them with their blood. The infantry and the Mobiles were, too, without shelter; for the Krupp guns swept the portion of the plateau on which they were drawn up within supporting distance. Most of them made the best of it, and laughed when they heard the sh.e.l.ls whistling above their heads and bursting near them. Many, however, were so terrified, that they fell back, and spread abroad in their rear disquieting reports, which the terrified air of the narrators rendered still more alarming. The National Guard were drawn up on the heights in advance of the village of Rosny; a few sh.e.l.ls reached their ranks. An officer and a soldier of the 114th were slightly wounded; but they remained firm.

Every hour the Prussian cannonade became heavier. On our side our fire slackened; then ceased entirely. An _estafette_ came with an order to evacuate the plateau, and to save the artillery. No time was lost.

Fortunately, at this moment the enemy's fire also slackened; and the preparations for a retreat were hurriedly made. The guns were taken from their carriages, the baggage was laden on the carts, and the munition on the waggons. The soldiers strapped on their knapsacks, struck their tents, and harnessed the horses. All this was not accomplished without difficulty, for it had to be done noiselessly and in the dark, for all the fires had been put out. General Trochu, seated on a horse, issued his directions, and every moment received information of what was taking place. Notwithstanding the expostulations of his staff, the General refused to withdraw from this exposed point. 'No, gentlemen,' he said, 'I shall not withdraw from here until the cannon are in safety.' At two in the morning all was ready; the long train began to move; the cannon of 7 and the mitrailleuses of Commandant Pothier took the lead. Then followed the heavy naval guns, then the munition and baggage waggons; the troops of the Line, the Marines, and the National Guard were ordered to cover the retreat. It was no easy matter to descend from the plateau to Rosny. The frost had made the road a literal ice-hill. The drivers walked by the side of their animals, holding the reins and pulling them up when they stumbled. Until four o'clock, however, everything went well. The march slowly continued, and the Prussian batteries were comparatively calm. Their sh.e.l.ls fell still occasionally where our guns had been. The noise of the wheels, however, and the absence of all cannonade on our parts, at length awakened the suspicions of the enemy.

Their fire was now directed on the fort of Rosny, and the road from the plateau leading to it. At this moment the line of guns and waggons was pa.s.sing through the village, and only carts with baggage were still on the plateau. At first the sh.e.l.ls fell wide; then they killed some horses; some of the drivers were hit; a certain confusion took place.

That portion of our line of march which was in Rosny was in imminent danger. Fortunately, our chiefs did not lose their heads. The guns whose horses were untouched pa.s.sed those which were obliged to stop. Some of them took to the fields; the men pushed the wheels, and, thanks to their efforts, our artillery was saved. As soon as the guns had been dragged up the hill opposite the plateau, the horses started off at a gallop, and did not stop until they were out of the range of the enemy's fire.

The guns were soon in safety at Vincennes and Montreuil. The troops held good, the men lying down on their stomachs, the officers standing up and smoking their cigars until the last waggon had pa.s.sed. Day had broken when they received orders to withdraw. The National Guard went back into Paris, and the Line, after a short halt at Montreuil, camped in the barracks of St. Maur. At eight o'clock, the evacuation of the plateau was complete; but the Prussian sh.e.l.ls still fell upon the deserted houses and some of the gun-carriages which had been abandoned. The enemy then turned their attention to the forts of Rosny and Noisy. It hailed shot on these two forts, and had they not been solidly built they would not have withstood it. The noise of this cannonade was so loud that it could be heard in the centre of Paris. Around the Fort of Noisy the projectiles sank into the frozen ground to a depth of two and a half metres, and raised blocks of earth weighing 30lbs. Sh.e.l.ls fell as far as Romainville. In the Rue de Pantin a drummer had his head carried off; his comrades buried him on the spot. In the court of Fort Noisy three men, hearing the hissing of a sh.e.l.l, threw themselves on the ground. It was a bad inspiration; the sh.e.l.l fell on the one in the middle, and killed all three. These were the only casualties in the fort, and at ten o'clock the enemy's batteries ceased firing on it. All their efforts were then directed against the Fort of Rosny. The sh.e.l.ls swept the open court, broke in the roof of the barracks, and tore down the peach-trees whose fruit is so dear to the Parisians. From eleven o'clock, it was impossible to pa.s.s along the road to Montreuil in safety. In that village, the few persons who are still left sought shelter in their cellars. At three o'clock the sun came out, and I pa.s.sed along the strategical road to Noisy. I met several regiments--Zouaves, Infantry, and Marines--coming from Noisy and Bondy. I could distinctly see the enemy's batteries. Their centre is in Rancy, and the guns seem to be in the houses. The destruction in Bondy commenced by the French artillery has been completed by the Prussians. From three batteries in the park of Rancy they have destroyed the wall of the cemetery, behind which one battery was posted and an earthwork. What remained of the church has been literally reduced to dust. Except sentinels hid in the interior of the houses, all our troops had been withdrawn. Some few persons, out of curiosity, had adjourned to the Grande Place; their curiosity nearly cost them dear, and they had to creep away. At three o'clock the enemy's fire had redoubled; some of our Mobiles, in relieving guard, were killed; and from that hour no one ventured into the streets. 9 P.M. The moon has risen, and s.h.i.+nes brightly--the ground is covered with snow, and it is almost like daylight. The Prussian positions can distinctly be seen. The cannon cannot be distinguished, but all along the line between Villenomble and Gagny tongues of fire appear, followed by long columns of smoke. The fire on Rosny is increasing in violence; the village of Noisy is being bombarded.”

CHAPTER XVI.

PARIS, _January 1st, 1871._

Our forts still, like breakwaters before a coast, keep back the storm which the Prussians are directing against us. I went out yesterday by the Vincennes gate to see how matters were looking. In the Bois de Vincennes there were troops of every description, and a large number of guns. The usual scenes of camp life were going on, although, owing to the cold, everyone seemed gloomy and depressed. I confess that if I were called upon to camp out in this weather under a _tente d'abri_, and only given some very smoky green wood to keep me warm, I should not be quite so valorous as I should wish to be. Pa.s.sing through the Bois, which is rapidly becoming a treeless waste, I went forward in the direction of Fontenay. As the Prussian bombs, however, were falling thickly into the village, I executed a strategical movement to the left, and fell back by a cross road into Montreuil. In this village several regiments were installed. It is just behind Fort Rosny, and on the upper portion, towards the fort, the Prussian sh.e.l.ls fell. It is very singular what little real danger there is to life and limb from a bombardment. Sh.e.l.ls make a hissing noise as they come through the air. Directly this warning hiss is heard, down everyone throws himself on the ground. The sh.e.l.l pa.s.ses over and falls somewhere near, it sinks about two feet into the hard ground, and then bursts, throwing up great clouds of earth, like a small mine. The Prussians are unmasking fresh batteries every day, and approaching nearer and nearer to the forts. Their fire now extends from behind Le Bourget to the Marne, and at some points reaches to within a mile of the ramparts. Bondy is little more than a heap of ruins. As for the forts, we are told that, with the exception of their barracks having been made untenable, no harm has been done. Standing behind and looking at the sh.e.l.ls falling into them, they certainly do not give one the idea of places in which anyone would wish to be, unless he were obliged; and they seemed yesterday to be replying but feebly to the fire of the enemy. I suppose that the Prussians know their own business, and that they really intend wholly to destroy Fort Rosny. Before you get this letter the duel between earth and iron will be decided, so it is useless my speculating on the result. If Rosny or Nogent fall, there will be nothing to protect Belleville from a bombardment. Many military sages imagine that this bombardment is only a prelude to an attack upon Mont Valerien. About 3,500 metres from that fort there is a very awkward plateau called La Bergerie. It is somewhat higher than the hill on which Valerien stands. The Prussians are known to have guns on it in position, and as Valerien is of granite, if bombarded, the value of granite as a material for fortifications will be tested.

Since the Prussians have opened fire, there have been numerous councils of war, and still more numerous proclamations. General Trochu has issued an appeal to the city to be calm, and not to believe that differences of opinion exist among the members of the Government. General Clement Thomas has issued an address to the National Guards, telling them that the country is going to demand great sacrifices of them. In fact, after the manner of the Gauls, everybody is addressing everybody. _Toujours des proclamations et rien que cela_, say the people, who are at last getting tired of this nonsense. Yesterday there was a great council of all the generals and commanders. General Trochu, it is said, was in favour of an attempt to pierce the Prussian lines; the majority being in favour of a number of small sorties. What will happen no one seems to know, and I doubt even if our rulers have themselves any very definite notion. The Ultra journals clamour for a sortie _en ma.s.se_, which of course would result in a stampede _en ma.s.se_. One and all the newspapers either abuse Trochu, or d.a.m.n him with faint praise. It is so very much a matter of chance whether a man goes down to posterity as a sage or a fool, that it is by no means easy to form an opinion as to what will be the verdict of history on Trochu. If he simply wished to keep the Prussians out of Paris, and to keep order inside until the provisions were exhausted, he has succeeded. If he wished to force them to raise the siege he has failed. His military critics complain that, admitting he could not do the latter, he ought, by frequent sorties, to have endeavoured to prevent them sending troops to their covering armies. One thing is certain, that all his sorties have failed not only in the result, but in the conception. As a consequence of this, the French soldiers, who more than any other troops in the world require, in order to fight well, to have faith in their leader, have lost all confidence in him.

We have had no pigeon for the last eighteen days, and the anxiety to obtain news from without is very strong. A few days ago a messenger was reported to have got through the Prussian lines with news of a French victory. The next day a Saxon officer was said, with his last breath, to have confided to his doctor that Frederick Charles had been defeated.

Yesterday Jules Favre told the mayor that there was a report that Chanzy had gained a victory. Everything now depends upon what Chanzy is doing, and, for all we know, he may have ceased to exist for the last week.

A census which has just been made of the population within the lines, makes the number, exclusive of the Line, Mobiles, and sailors, 2,000,500. No attempt has yet been made to ration the bread, but it is to be mixed with oats and rice. The mayor of this quarter says that in this arrondiss.e.m.e.nt--the richest in Paris--he is certain that there is food for two months. Should very good news come from the provinces, and it appear that by holding out for two months more the necessity for a capitulation would be avoided, I think that we should hold on until the end of February, if we have to eat the soles of our boots. If bad news comes, we shall not take to this food; but we shall give in when everything except bread fails, and we shall then consider that our honour is saved if nothing else is. M. Louis Blanc to-day publishes a letter to Victor Hugo, in which he tells the Parisians that if they do capitulate they will gain nothing by it, for the Prussians will neither allow them to quit Paris, nor, if the war continues, allow food to enter it.

As yet there are no signs of a real outbreak; and if a successful one does occur, it will be owing to the weakness of the Government, which has ample means to repress it. The Parisian press is always adjuring the working men not to cut either each others' or their neighbours' throats, and congratulating them on their n.o.ble conduct in not having done so.

This sort of praise seems to me little better than an insult. I see no reason why the working men should be considered to be less patriotic than others. That they are not satisfied with Trochu, and that they entertain different political and social opinions to those of the bourgeoisie, is very possible. Opinions, however, are free, and they have shown as yet that they are willing to subordinate the expression of theirs to the exigencies of the national defence. I go a good deal among them, and while many of them wish for a general system of rationing, because they think that it will make the provisions last longer, they have no desire to pillage or to provoke a conflict with the Government. I regard them myself, in every quality which makes a good citizen, as infinitely superior to the journalists who lecture them, and who would do far better to shoulder a musket and to fall into the ranks, than to waste paper in reviling the Prussians and bragging of their own heroism. As soldiers, the fault of the working men is that they will not submit to discipline; but this is more the fault of the Government than of them. As citizens, no one can complain of them. To talk with one of them after reading the leading article of a newspaper is a relief. A French journalist robes himself in his toga, gets upon a pedestal, and talks unmeaning, unpractical claptrap. A French workman is, perhaps, too much inclined to regard every one except himself, and some particular idol which he has set up, as a fool; but he is by no means wanting in the power to take a plain practical view, both of his own interests, and those of his country. Since the commencement of the siege, forty-nine new journals have appeared. Many of them have already ceased to exist, but counting old and new newspapers, there must at least be sixty published every day. How they manage to find paper is to me a mystery.

Some of them are printed upon sheets intended for books, others upon sheets which are so thick that I imagine they were designed to wrap up sugar and other groceries. Those which were the strongest in favour of the Empire, are now the strongest in favour of the Republic. Editors and writers whose dream it was a few months ago to obtain an invitation at the Tuileries or to the Palais Royal, or to merit by the basest of flatteries the Legion of Honour, now have become perfect Catos, and denounce courts and courtiers, Bonapartists and Orleanists. War they regard as the most wicked of crimes, and they appear entirely to have forgotten that they welcomed with shouts of ecstacy in July last the commencement of the triumphal march to Berlin.

_January 2nd._

Yesterday evening, notwithstanding the cold, there were groups on the Boulevards shouting ”_a bas Trochu_.” It is understood that henceforward no military operation is to take place before it has been discussed by a Council of War, consisting of generals and admirals. As the moment approaches when we shall, unless relieved, be obliged to capitulate, everyone is attempting to s.h.i.+ft from himself all responsibility. This is the consequence of the scapegoat system which has so long prevailed in France. Addresses are published from the commanders outside congratulating the National Guard who have been under their orders. The _Verite_, in alluding to them, asks the following questions:--”Why are battalions which are accused by General Thomas, their direct superior, of chronic drunkenness, thus placed upon a pinnacle by real military men? Why do distinguished generals, unless forced by circ.u.mstances, declare the mere act of pa.s.sing four or five cold nights in the trenches heroic? Why is so great a publicity given to such contradictory orders of the day?”

<script>