The latter had achieved some slight successes near Dijon on January 21 and 23, but on February 1—that is, two days after the signing of the armistice—the Garibaldians were once more driven out of the Burgundian capital. That, however, was as nothing in comparison with what befell Bourbaki's unfortunate army. Manteuffel having compelled it to retreat from Besançon to Pontarlier, it was next forced to withdraw into Switzerland [Before this happened, Bourbaki attempted his life.] (neutral territory, where it was necessarily disarmed by the Swiss authorities) in order to escape either capture or annihilation by the Germans. The latter took some 6000 prisoners, before the other men (about 80,000 in number) succeeded in crossing the Swiss frontier. A portion of the army was saved, however, by General Billot. With regard to the position elsewhere, Longwy, I should mention, surrendered three days before the capitulation of Paris; but Belfort prolonged its resistance until February 13, when all other hostilities had ceased. Its garrison, so gallantly commanded by Colonel Denfert-Bochereau, was accorded the honours of war.
As I wrote in my book, "Republican France," the country generally was weary of the long struggle; and only Gambetta, Freycinet, and a few military men, such as Chanzy and Faidherbe, were in favour of prolonging it. From the declaration of war on July 15 to the capitulation of Paris and the armistice on January 28, the contest had lasted twenty-eight weeks. Seven of those weeks had sufficed to overthrow the Second Empire; but only after another one-and-twenty weeks had the Third Republic laid down her arms. Whatever may have been the blunders of the National Defence, it at least saved the honour of France,
It may well be doubted whether the position could have been retrieved had the war been prolonged, though undoubtedly the country was still possessed of many resources. In "Republican France," I gave a number of figures which showed that over 600,000 men could have been brought into action almost immediately, and that another 260,000 could afterwards have been provided. On February 8, when Chanzy had largely reorganized his army, he, alone, had under his orders 4952 officers and 227,361 men, with 430 guns. That careful and distinguished French military historian, M. Pierre Lehautcourt, places, however, the other resources of France at even a higher figure than I did. He also points out, rightly enough, that although so large a part of France was invaded, the uninvaded territory was of greater extent, and inhabited by twenty-five millions of people. He estimates the total available artillery on the French side at 1232 guns, each with an average allowance of 242 projectiles. In addition, there were 443 guns awaiting projectiles. He tells us that the French ordnance factories were at this period turning out on an average 25,000 chassepots every month, and delivering two million cartridges every day; whilst other large supplies of weapons and ammunition were constantly arriving from abroad. On the other hand, there was certainly a scarcity of horses, the mortality of which in this war, as in all others, was very great. Chanzy only disposed of 20,000, and the remount service could only supply another 12,000. However, additional animals might doubtless have been found in various parts of France, or procured from abroad.
But material resources, however great they may be, are of little avail when a nation has practically lost heart. In spite, moreover, of all the efforts of commanding officers, insubordination was rampant among the troops in the field. There had been so many defeats, so many retreats, that they had lost all confidence in their generals. During the period of the armistice, desertions were still numerous. I may add, that if at the expiration of the armistice the struggle had been renewed, Chanzy's plan— which received approval at a secret military and Government council held in Paris, whither he repaired early in February—was to place General de Colomb at the head of a strong force for the defence of Brittany, whilst he, Chanzy, would, with his own army, cross the Loire and defend southern France.
Directly news arrived that an armistice had been signed, and that Paris was once more open, my father arranged to return there, accompanied by myself and my younger brother, Arthur Vizetelly. We took with us, I remember, a plentiful supply of poultry and other edibles for distribution among the friends who had been suffering from the scarcity of provisions during the latter days of the siege. The elections for the new National Assembly were just over, nearly all of the forty-three deputies returned for Paris being Republicans, though throughout the rest of France Legitimist and Orleanist candidates were generally successful. I remember that just before I left Saint Servan one of our tradesmen, an enthusiastic Royalist, said to me, "We shall have a King on the throne by the time you come back to see us in the summer." At that moment it certainly seemed as if such would be the case. As for the Empire, one could only regard it as dead. There were, I think, merely five recognized Bonapartist members in the whole of the new National Assembly, and most of them came from Corsica. Thus, it was by an almost unanimous vote that the Assembly declared Napoleon III and his dynasty to be responsible for the "invasion, ruin, and dismemberment of France."
The Assembly having called Thiers to the position of "Chief of the Executive Power," peace negotiations ensued between him and Bismarck. They began on February 22, Thiers being assisted by Jules Favre, who retained the position of Minister of Foreign Affairs, mainly because nobody else would take it and append his signature to a treaty which was bound to be disastrous for the country. The chief conditions of that treaty will be remembered. Germany was to annex Alsace-Lorraine, to receive a war indemnity of two hundred million pounds sterling (with interest in addition), and secure commercially "most favoured nation" treatment from France. The preliminaries were signed on February 26, and accepted by the National Assembly on March 1, but the actual treaty of Frankfort was not signed and ratified until the ensuing month of May.
Paris presented a sorry spectacle during the weeks which followed the armistice. There was no work for the thousands of artisans who had become National Guards during the siege. Their allowance as such was prolonged in order that they might at least have some means of subsistence. But the unrest was general. By the side of the universal hatred of the Germans, which was displayed on all sides, even finding vent in the notices set up in the shop-windows to the effect that no Germans need apply there, one observed a very bitter feeling towards the new Government. Thiers had been an Orleanist all his life, and among the Paris working-classes there was a general feeling that the National Assembly would give France a king. This feeling tended to bring about the subsequent bloody Insurrection of the Commune; but, as I wrote in "Republican France," it was precisely the Commune which gave the French Royalists a chance. It placed a weapon in their hands and enabled them to say, "You see, by that insurrection, by all those terrible excesses, what a Republic implies. Order, quietude, fruitful work, are only possible under a monarchy." As we know, however, the efforts of the Royalists were defeated, in part by the obstinacy of their candidate, the Comte de Chambord, and in part by the good behaviour of the Republicans generally, as counselled both by Thiers and by Gambetta.
On March 1, the very day when the National Assembly ratified the preliminaries of peace at Bordeaux, the Germans made their triumphal entry into Paris. Four or five days previously my father had sent me on a special mission to Bordeaux, and it was then that after long years I again set eyes on Garibaldi, who had been elected as a French deputy, but who resigned his seat in consequence of the onerous terms of peace. Others, notably Gambetta, did precisely the same, by way of protesting against the so-called "Devil's Treaty." However, I was back in Paris in time to witness the German entry into the city. My father, my brother Arthur, and myself were together in the Champs Elysées on that historical occasion. I have related elsewhere [In "Republican France.">[ how a number of women of the Paris Boulevards were whipped in the Champs Elysées shrubberies by young roughs, who, not unnaturally, resented the shameless overtures made by these women to the German soldiery. There were, however, some unfortunate mistakes that day, as, for instance, when an attempt was made to ill-treat an elderly lady who merely spoke to the Germans in the hope of obtaining some information respecting her son, then still a prisoner of war. I remember also that Archibald Forbes was knocked down and kicked for returning the salute of the Crown Prince of Saxony. Some of the English correspondents who hurried to the scene removed Forbes to a little hotel in the Faubourg St. Honoré, for he had really been hurt by that savage assault, though it did not prevent him from penning a graphic account of what he witnessed on that momentous day.
The German entry was, on the whole, fairly imposing as a military display; but the stage-management was very bad, and one could not imagine that Napoleon's entry into Berlin had in any way resembled it. Nor could it be said to have equalled the entry of the Allied Sovereigns into Paris in 1814. German princelings in basket-carriages drawn by ponies did not add to the dignity of the spectacle. Moreover, both the Crown Prince of Saxony and the Crown Prince of Germany (Emperor Frederick) attended it in virtually an incognito manner. As for the Emperor William, his councillors dissuaded him from entering the city for fear lest there should be trouble there. I believe also that neither Bismarck nor Moltke attended, though, like the Emperor, they both witnessed the preliminary review of troops in the Bois de Boulogne. The German occupation was limited to the Champs Elysées quarter, and on the first day the Parisians generally abstained from going there; but on the morrow—when news that the preliminaries of peace had been accepted at Bordeaux had reached the capital—they flocked to gaze upon nos amis les ennemis, and greatly enjoyed, I believe, the lively music played by the German regimental bands. "Music hath charms," as we are all aware. The departure of the German troops on the ensuing evening was of a much more spectacular character than their entry had been. As with their bands playing, whilst they themselves sang the "Wacht am Rhein" in chorus, they marched up the Champs Elysées on their way back to Versailles, those of their comrades who were still billeted in the houses came to the balconies with as many lighted candles as they could carry. Bivouac fires, moreover, were burning brightly here and there, and the whole animated scene, with its play of light and shade under the dark March sky, was one to be long remembered.
The Franco-German War was over, and a new era had begun for Europe. The balance of power was largely transferred. France had again ceased to be the predominant continental state. She had attained to that position for a time under Louis XIV, and later, more conspicuously, under Napoleon I. But in both of those instances vaulting ambition had o'er-leapt itself. The purposes of Napoleon III were less far-reaching. Such ideas of aggrandisement as he entertained were largely subordinated to his desire to consolidate the régime he had revived, and to ensure the continuity of his dynasty. But the very principle of nationality which he more than once expounded, and which he championed in the case of Italy, brought about his ruin. He gave Italy Venetia, but refused her Rome, and thereby alienated her. Further, the consolidation of Germany—from his own nationalist point of view—became a threat to French interests. Thus he was hoist chiefly by his own pétard, and France paid the penalty for his errors.