Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris

by Henry Du Pré Labouchere

The elections on Saturday, says M. Jules Favre, will be a "negation of the Commune." By this I presume he means that the elected Mayors and their adjuncts will only exercise power in their respective arrondissements, but that their collective action will not be recognised. As, however, they will be the only legally elected body in Paris, and as, undoubtedly, they will frequently meet together, it is very probable that they will be able to hold their own against the Government. The word "Commune" is taken from the vocabulary of the first Revolution. During the Reign of Terror the Municipality was all powerful, and it styled itself a "Commune." By "Commune," consequently, is simply meant a municipality which is strong enough to absorb tacitly a portion of the power legally belonging to the Executive.

The Government now meets at one or other of the ministries. At the Hôtel de Ville Etienne Arago still reigns. Being a member of the Government himself, he cannot well be turned out by his own colleagues, but they distrust him, and do not clearly know whether he is with them or against them. Yesterday, several battalions were stationed round the hotel. Arago came out to review them. He was badly received, and the officers let him understand that they were not there to be reviewed by him. Soon afterwards General Tamisier passed along the line, and was greeted with shouts of "A bas la Commune!"

I am sorry for Trochu; he is a good, honourable, high-minded man; somewhat obstinate, and somewhat vain; but actuated by the best intentions. He has thrust himself into a hornet's nest. In vain he now plaintively complains that he has made Paris impregnable, that he cannot make sorties without field artillery, and that he is neither responsible for the capitulation of Metz, nor the rout the other day at Bourget. What, then, say his opponents with some truth, was your wonderful plan? Why did you put your name to proclamations which called upon us, if we could not conquer, at least to die? Why did you imprison as calumniators those who published news from the provinces, which you now admit is true? It is by no means easy for him or his colleagues to reply to these questions.

General Bellemare has been suspended. He, it appears, is to be the scapegoat of the Bourget affair. I hear from the Quartier-Général that the real reason why the artillery did not arrive in time to hold this position was, not because Bellemare did not ask for it, but because he could not get it. Red tape and routine played their old game. From St. Denis none could be sent, because St. Denis is within the "territorial defence of Paris," and Bourget is not. In vain Bellemare's officers went here and there. They were sent from pillar to post, from one aged General to another, and at eleven o'clock on the day when Bourget was taken, after the troops had been driven out of it, the artillery, every formality having been gone through, was on its way to the village. It is pleasant, whilst one is cut off from the outer world, to be reminded by these little traits of one's native land, its War-Office and its Horse-Guards.

I was out yesterday afternoon along our southern advanced posts. A few stray shots were occasionally fired by Francs-tireurs; but there seemed to be a tacit understanding that no offensive operations should take place. The fall of the leaves enables us to distinguish clearly the earthworks and the redoubts which the Prussians have thrown up. I am not a military man, but my civilian mind cannot comprehend why Vanves and Montrouge do not destroy with their fire the houses occupied on the plateau of Chatillon by the Prussians. I asked an officer, who was standing before Vanves, why they did not. He shrugged his shoulders, and said, "It is part of the plan, I suppose." Trochu is respected by the troops, but they have little confidence in his skill as a commander. In the evening I went to the Club Rue d'Arras, which is presided over by the "venerable" Blanqui in person, and where the Ultras of the Ultras congregate. The club is a large square room, with a gallery at one end and a long tribune at the other. On entering through a baize door one is called upon to contribute a few sous to the fund for making cannon. When I got there it was about 8.30. The venerable Blanqui was seated at a table on the tribune; before him were two assessors. One an unwholesome citizen, with long blond hair hanging down his back, the other a most truculent-looking ruffian. The hall was nearly full; many were in blouses, the rest in uniform; about one-fifth of the audience was composed of women, who either knitted, or nourished the infants, which they held in their arms. A citizen was speaking. He held a list in his hand of a new Government. As he read out the names some were applauded, others rejected. I had found a place on a bench by the side of a lady with a baby, who was occupied, like most of the other babies, in taking its supper. Its food, however, apparently did not agree with it, for it commenced to squall lustily. "Silence," roared a hundred voices, but the baby only yelled the louder. "Sit upon it," observed some energetic citizens, looking at me, but not being a Herod, I did not comply with their order. The mother became frightened lest a coup d'état should be made upon her offspring, and after turning it up and solemnly smacking it, took it away from the club. By this time orator No. 1 had been succeeded by orator No. 2. This gentleman, a lieutenant in the National Guard, thus commenced. "Citizens, I am better than any of you. (Indignant disapproval.) In the Hôtel de Ville on Monday I told General Trochu that he was a coward." (Tremendous shouts of "You are a liar," and men and women shook their fists at the speaker.) Up rose the venerable Blanqui. There was a dead silence. "I am master here," he said; "when I call a speaker to order he must leave the tribune, until then he remains." The club listened to the words of the sage with reverential awe, and the orator was allowed to go on. "This, perhaps, no one will deny," he continued. "I took an order from the Citizen Flourens to the public printing establishment. The order was the deposition of the Government of National Defence"—(great applause)—and satisfied with his triumph the lieutenant relapsed into private life. After him followed several other citizens, who proposed resolutions, which were put and carried. I only remember one of them, it was that the Jesuits in Vaugirard (a school) should at once be ejected from the territories of the Republic. At ten o'clock the venerable Blanqui announced that the sitting was over, and the public noisily withdrew. An attempt has been made by the respectable portion of the community to establish a club at the Porte St. Martin Theatre, where speakers of real eminence nightly address audiences. I was there a few evenings ago, and heard A. Coquerel and M. Lebueier, both Protestant pastors, deliver really excellent speeches. The former is severe and demure, the latter a perfect Boanerges. He frequently took up a chair and dashed it to the ground to emphasise his words. This club is usually presided over by M. Cernuschi, a banker, who was in bad odour with the Imperial Government for having subscribed a large sum for the electoral campaign against the Plebiscite. Another club is held at the Folies Bergères, an old concert-hall, something like the Alhambra. The principal orator here is a certain Falcet, a burly athlete, who was, I believe, formerly a professional wrestler. Here the quality of the speeches is poor, the sentiments of the speakers mildly Republican. At the Club Montmartre the president is M. Tony Reveillon, a journalist of some note. The assessors are always elected. A person proposes himself, and the President puts his name to the audience. Generally a dozen are rejected before the two necessary to make the meeting in order are chosen. Every time I have been there an old man—I am told an ex-professor in a girls' school—has got up, and with great unction blessed the National Guards—the "heroic defenders of our homes." Sometimes he is encored several times; and were his audience to let him, I believe that he would continue blessing the "heroic defenders" until the next morning. The old gentleman has a most reverent air, and I should imagine in quiet times goes about as a blind man with a dog. He was turned out of the school in which he was a professor—a profane disbeliever in all virtue assures me—for being rather too affectionate towards some of the girls. "I like little girls—big ones, too," Artemus Ward used to say, and so it appears did this worthy man. Besides the clubs which I have mentioned, there are above 100 others. Most of them are kept going by the sous which are collected for cannon, or some other vague object. Almost all are usually crowded; the proceedings at most of them are more or less disorderly; the resolutions carried more or less absurd, and the speeches more or less bad. With the exception of the Protestant pastors, and one or two others, I have not heard a single speaker able to talk connectedly for five minutes. Wild invectives against the Prussians, denunciations against Europe, abuse of every one who differs from the orator, and the very tallest of talk about France—what she has done, what she is doing, and what she will do—form the staple of almost all the speeches.

Evening.

I went down to Belleville this afternoon. Everything was quiet. The people, as usual, in the streets doing nothing. If you can imagine the whole of Southwark paid and fed by the Government, excused from paying rent, arrayed in kepis and some sort of uniform, given guns, and passing almost all the time gossiping, smoking, and idling, you will be able to form a correct notion of the aspect of Belleville and the other outer faubourgs. The only demonstration I have heard of has been one composed of women, who marched down the Rue du Temple behind a red flag, shouting "Vive la Commune." As far as is yet known, about one-seventh of the population have voted "No." The army and the Mobiles have almost all voted "Yes." A friend of mine, who was out driving near Bobigny, says he was surrounded by a Mobile regiment, who were anxious to know what was passing in Paris. He asked them how they had voted. "For peace," they replied. "If the National Guards wish to continue the war, they must come out here and fight themselves." Many battalions have issued addresses to the Parisians saying that they will not fight for a Commune, and that the provinces must have a vote in all decisions as to the future destinies of France. General Vinoy also has issued an order to the 13th Corps d'Armée, declaring that if the peace of Paris is disturbed he will march at its head to put down disorders.

November 5th.

That Paris is prudent to seize upon the first loophole to get out of the position into which she has inconsiderately thrust herself is most certain. Never for a moment did I believe that the Parisians, indifferent to all but honour, would perish to the last man rather than give up one inch of territory, one stone of a fortress. Heroic constancy and endurance under misfortune are not improvised. A population, enervated by twenty years of slavery, corruption, and luxury, is not likely to immolate itself for country, like the Spartans at Thermopylæ. People who mean to die do not sign a preliminary round-robin to do so. Real fighting soldiers do not parade the streets behind half-a-dozen fantastically dressed vivandières. When in a town of 2,000,000 inhabitants not above 12,000 can be found ready to submit to military discipline, and to go outside an inner line of fortifications, it is ridiculous to expect a defence like that of Saragossa. We are under the impression to-day that an armistice will be signed to-morrow. No one affects even to doubt that the word means peace. The bourgeoisie are heartily tired of playing at soldiers, the game has lost its novelty, and the nights are too cold to make an occasional pic-nic to the fortifications agreeable any longer. Besides, business is business, and pleasant as it may be to sit arrayed in uniform behind a counter, in the long run customers are more remunerative, if not so glorious. The cry for peace is universal, the wealthy are lusting after the flesh-pots of Egypt, the hotel-keepers are eagerly waiting for the rush of sightseers, and the shopkeepers are anxious to make up for lost time by plundering friend and foe. The soldiers, although Trochu is popular with them, have neither faith nor confidence in his generalship. The Mobiles and peasants recently from their villages wish to go home, and openly tell the Parisians that they have no intention to remain out in the cold any longer on salt beef, whilst the heroic citizens are sleeping quietly in their houses, or in barracks, and gorging themselves with fresh provisions. As for the working-men, they are spoiling for a fight in the streets, either with the Prussians, or, if that cannot be, with anyone else. They are, however, so thoroughly enjoying themselves, doing nothing, and getting paid for doing it, that they are in too good a temper to be mischievous. The new Prefect of the Police has arrested Felix Pyat and other leaders of the riot of last Monday. Flourens and the venerable Blanqui are only not in prison because they are in hiding. The mayors of the different arrondissements are being elected to-day, but no one seems to trouble himself about the election.

The vote of Thursday has somewhat surprised the bourgeoisie. That one-seventh of the population should have registered their deliberate opinion that they prefer no Government to that under which they are living is by no means a reassuring fact, more particularly when this seventh consists of "men of action," armed with muskets, and provided with ammunition. As long as the Line and the Mobiles remain here, Trochu will be able, if he only acts with firmness, to put down all tendencies to disorder; but were there to be a fight between the friends of the Government among the Garde Nationale and its opponents, I am not certain that the former would have the upper hand. As it is, the Hôtel de Ville and the Louvre are guarded by Breton battalions of the Mobile, and Vinoy has announced that if there is a disturbance he will at once march to the aid of the Government at the head of his division. Many complaints are made about the mode in which the vote was taken on Thursday; some of them appear to me to be just. The fact is, that Frenchman have not the most elementary notion of fair play in an election. No matter what body of men are in power, they conceive that they have a perfect right to use that power to obtain a verdict in their favour from their fellow-citizens. Tried by our electioneering code, every French election which I ever witnessed would be annulled on the ground of "intimidation" and "undue influence."