Versailles now became the headquarters of[{353}] correspondents from all parts of the world, and a grave question—that of the maintenance of war-vessels in the Black Sea—having arisen between England and Russia, it was to Versailles that Mr. Odo Russell was sent, on the part of the English Foreign Office, to make representations to Count Bismarck, who had undertaken, in his own language, the part of “honest broker” between the Powers at variance.

An interesting account of the occupation of Versailles by the Germans was published three years after the conclusion of peace. It would be useful for the future historian, whose possible wants have been so much studied of late years, if the municipal authorities of other French towns which during the war of 1870 fell into the power of the Germans would put together and publish the official documents relating to the occupation, as the authors of this volume have done in regard to the occupation of Versailles. Strictly speaking, the authors of the work in question are the Prussians themselves. But the materials, in the form of requisitions, summonses to appear, condemnations to pay, proclamations, menaces and occasional remissions of punishment, were collected by M. Rameau, Mayor of Versailles, and by him entrusted for publication to M. Delerot, who, considering the hatred he felt and was bound to feel for the conquerors and oppressors of his country, showed commendable moderation in his manner of presenting the papers. Invasion must always be intolerable to the invaded. No Brussels conferences or Geneva conventions, however much they may alleviate the miseries of the battle-fields, can soften the hard lines of a foreign occupation in its general features; and M. Delerot would not be more—he would be something less—than human were he able to take a perfectly just view of the conduct of the Prussians in France. The truth is that they behaved badly if we judge them by a high ideal standard; admirably if we judge them by the standard of what has been done by former invaders engaged in invasions on the same vast scale and of the same momentous character as that of 1870.

The book in question is too full of matter for one to give an idea of its contents, either by means of notes or by a connected series of extracts. But some notion of its general character may be conveyed by the reproduction of a few stories from it.

The king, to begin with the most important of all the personages assembled at Versailles, was in the habit of receiving anonymous letters from all parts of the occupied country, and it would appear that he was quite ready to answer them. Not, however, knowing the authors of the epistles, he was obliged to content himself with writing notes for replies on the margin of these curious documents. To one correspondent, who charges him (on the strength of an accusation originally made by M. Jules Favre) with having declared, on entering France, that he made war “not on the French people, but on the Emperor Napoleon,” he justly answers, “Je n’ai jamais dit cela.” To a correspondent who insults and curses him, and who signs himself “Un Français qui ne t’aime pas,” he quietly remarks, “Il me semble!” One writer addresses him, in allusion to the siege of Strasburg, as “Sire Bombardeur!” Another, after exhausting all the terms of abuse he can think of in the French language, calls him, in plain English, “old rascal.”

Mention must not be omitted of the part played, in connection with the invasion, by the money-lender attached to the Prussian forces. He was no miserable camp-follower bent on securing much plunder by small advances of ready money, nor private bill-discounter prepared to “oblige” officers with loans on notes of hand. He was an officially recognised financial agent, representing a syndicate of foreign bankers, who, to enable the municipalities and the occupied towns to execute the requisitions and pay the contributions imposed on them, offered, with a generosity rare in time of war, to lend the necessary funds in return for promises to pay, secured on the local taxes. The arrival of Herr Betzold was announced in the Moniteur de Versailles, the official journal published by the Germans throughout the occupation; and a few days afterwards his benevolent project for enabling destitute French municipalities to satisfy the most exorbitant Prussian demands was made known through the columns of the little sheet, which thus found itself transformed for a time into a financial newspaper. A second time attention was called to the advantages to be derived from the scheme; but neither the eloquent articles of the Moniteur de Versailles nor the friendly personal representations of Herr Betzold himself had any effect upon the municipality. The mayor refused to pledge the future resources of the town, or rather, refused to pledge them to the Prussians. A loan was found indispensable, but the bonds were offered to and taken by the inhabitants. The interest was fixed at five per cent., principal and interest both to[{354}] be paid off within three months of signing the peace.

While on the subject of contributions and the means taken to enable the conquered populations to pay them, I may point out—what some professors of international law are perhaps unaware of—that the Prussians no longer recognise the right of maritime Powers in time of war to seize merchant vessels belonging to the enemy. The contribution of 1,000,000 francs per occupied department, to which M. Delerot devotes some pages, was ordered by way of reprisal, and as an indemnity for the losses inflicted upon German commerce by French men-of-war.

The most serious charge brought by M. Delerot against the Prussians is that at Bougival they attacked and wounded a certain number of the inhabitants, on the ground, and apparently under the distinct impression, that they had been fired at with an air-gun: an instrument which, as M. Delerot assures us, is found only in scientific laboratories. The Prussians to whom the outrage in question is attributed were temporarily retreating in face of a sortie from Paris; and according to M. Delerot, they simply deluded themselves into a belief that the inhabitants of Bougival had assumed towards them an attitude which, under the circumstances, inhabitants are likely enough to adopt.

The fact that a formal trial was instituted, and that it resulted in two of the inhabitants being found guilty and shot, would seem to show that there must have been some sort of evidence against them, though M. Delerot will have it that the Prussians were under a delusion on the subject. It is clear, however, from the facts, adduced as such by M. Delerot himself, that the Prussians wished, not so much to act with severity as to be thought severe. The object, indeed, of most punishments in civilised warfare is, not to punish offenders retributively and in a spirit of vengeance for what they have done, but to deter other possible offenders from imitating their example. No one imagines that there is anything morally wrong in a civilian’s wishing to defend his country. But if troops do not molest the civil population, they consider that they have a right to require in return that civilians shall not molest them. One day, then, when a number of peasants taken in arms were brought to Versailles, the Prussians announced loudly their intention to shoot them. But M. Delerot and his friends observed that, instead of being taken to the place of execution, the peasants were imprisoned. On leaving Versailles, the Prussian authorities gave up to the mayor a list of the persons thrown into gaol during their occupation; and M. Delerot republishes it, with the names of the prisoners, the offences charged against them, and so on. The list certainly shows that many persons were incarcerated on trivial accusations: among others a servant-girl for having returned a box on the ears to an officer; someone else for having been found “in possession of a diary containing insulting expressions addressed to the King of Prussia”; a third for having recognised a Prussian spy; a fourth for having “followed Count Bismarck.” M. Delerot would, perhaps, have preferred that this last victim of precautionary measures should have been allowed to pursue Count Bismarck, who, walking out alone, was sometimes completely mobbed; so that on one occasion he reproached his pursuers with their ignorance of the “usages of war,” adding that if some impetuous young officer found himself surrounded in such a manner, he would probably make use of his sword. Thus, if Count Bismarck ended by objecting altogether to followers, he did not do so until they had become a serious nuisance.

The arrest of a man who had “recognised” a Prussian spy is interesting as an example of an action perfectly innocent, and, indeed, praiseworthy in itself, but which of necessity entailed upon its author a period of forced seclusion. A spy recognised, even by one individual, is a spy lost unless the individual who has recognised him be at once removed from public life.