A Girl of the Commune

by G. A. Henty

"Ah, but the seventh know what they want. They want to be masters. They want money enough to keep them without work. They want to set the streets flowing with blood. The other six only want to be left alone. They have no idea of risking their lives, and you will see, when it begins, they will hold the butts of their muskets up; they will say, 'Don't let us irritate these demons,' and each man will hope that, even if others are robbed, he will somehow escape.

"You cannot rely on the National Guard, it is no use to count them in, and the mobiles only want to be off to their villages. If the troops had a leader they might fight, but who is to lead them? Trochu is an imbecile, the real fighting army is in the prisons of Germany, and when it is released will not care to embark in another war. I think things look bad."

"What should we do?" Pierre asked.

"We should paint," Henri said, "that is to say we should paint if things go as I think they will, and the National Guard refuse to fight. If the men who have something to lose won't lift an arm to defend it, why should we who have nothing at stake?"

"You might paint, but who is going to buy your pictures, Henri?" Cuthbert said, quietly. "As soon as the reds get the upper hand we shall have the guillotine at work, and the first heads to fall will be those of your best customers. You don't suppose the ruffians of Belleville are going to become patrons of art. For my part I would rather fight against the savages than level my rifle against the honest German lads who are led here against us. I should think no more of shooting one of these roughs than of killing a tiger—indeed, I regard the tiger as the more honest beast of the two. Still, if you Frenchmen like to be ruled over by King Mob, it is no business of mine. Thank God, such a thing is never likely to happen in England—at any rate in my time. In the first place, we can trust our troops, and in the second, we could trust ourselves. Were there not a soldier in the land, such a thing will never happen. Our workmen have sense enough to know that a mob-rule would be ruin to them as well as to the rich, and, were it needed, in twenty-four hours half a million men could be sworn in as constables, and these would sweep the rabble into the Thames."

"Your rabble would be unarmed; ours have at present all got muskets."

"More fools they who gave them to them, but what can one expect from such a Government. There is not among them a single practical man except Gambetta, and he is away at Tours. It is a Government of lawyers and spouters; of words they give us plenty, of government nothing. I would rather, infinitely rather, that the women at the Halles should chose a dozen of the most capable women among them and establish them as the Government. I will guarantee you would see a change for the better before twenty-four hours were over. I doubt if you could see a change for the worse. Jules Fauvre with his ridiculous phrase, not one foot of our territory, not one stone of our fortresses, is no better than a mountebank, and the others are as bad. Would that either Ducrot or Vinoy had the firmness and half the talent of a Napoleon. They would march the troops in, sweep away this gathering of imbeciles, establish martial law, disarm Belleville and Montmartre, shoot Floureus, Pyat, Blanqui, and a hundred of the most noxious of these vermin; forbid all assemblages, turn the National Guards into soldiers, and after rendering Paris impotent for mischief turn their attention to the Germans. The one thing that can save Paris to my mind is a military dictator, but I see no sign of such a man being forthcoming."

"Bravo! bravo!" several of the students shouted, "what a pity it is that you are an Englishman, Cuthbert. You would be just the man for us otherwise."

"At any rate, I should do something and not let everything drift," Cuthbert retorted, joining in the laugh at his own unaccustomed vehemence; "but there, we have broken our agreement, now let us revert to art;" but the effort was vain, the talk soon drifted back again to the siege, and many were the conjectures as to what Trochu's famous plan could be and which point offered the most hopeful chance for the army to pierce the German cordon.

Mary Brander had a fortnight before enrolling herself among the nurses at the American ambulance, which was doing admirable work, and was admitted by the French themselves to be a model which could be followed with great advantage in their own hospitals. Here everything was neat, clean, and well arranged. The wounded were lodged in tents which were well ventilated and yet warm. The surgeons and some of the nurses were also under canvas, while others, among whom was Mary Brander, went back to their homes when their turn of duty was over. They had, like the ladies who worked in the French hospitals, adopted a sort of uniform and wore the white badge with the red cross on their arms. With this they could go unquestioned, and free from impertinent remarks through the thickest crowds, everyone making way for them with respectful civility.