Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris

by Henry Du Pré Labouchere

Although Trochu is neither a great general nor a great statesman, he is a gentleman. I am therefore surprised that he allows obscene caricatures of the Empress to be publicly sold in the streets and exhibited in the kiosks. During the time that she occupied the throne in this most scandal-loving town, no scandal was ever whispered against her. She was fond, it is true, of dress, but she was a good mother and a good wife. Now that she and her friends are in exile, "lives of the woman Bonaparte" are hawked about, which in England would bring their authors under Lord Campbell's statute. In one caricature she is represented stark naked, with Prince Joinville sketching her. In another, called "the Spanish cow," she is made a sort of female Centaur. In another she is dancing the Can-can, and throwing her petticoats over her head, before King William, who is drinking champagne, seated on a sofa, while her husband is in a cage hung up to the wall. These scandalous caricatures have not even the merit of being funny, they are a reflection upon French chivalry, and on that of Trochu. What would he say if the Government which succeeds him were to allow his own wife to be insulted in this cowardly manner?

Anything more dreary than the Boulevards now in the evening it is difficult to imagine. Only one street lamp in three is lighted, and the cafés, which close at 10.30, are put on half-allowance of gas. To mend matters, everyone who likes is allowed to put up a shed on the side walk to sell his goods, or to collect a crowd by playing a dirge on a fiddle. The consequence is that the circulation is rendered almost impossible. I suggested to a high authority that the police ought at least to interfere to make these peripatetic musicians "move on," but he told me that, were they to do so, they would be accused of being "Corsicans and Reactionaries." These police are themselves most ludicrous objects; anyone coming here would suppose that they are members of some new sect of peripatetic philosophers; they walk about in pairs, arrayed in pea jackets with large hoods; and when it is wet they have umbrellas. Their business appears to be, never to interfere with the rights of their fellow-citizens to do what they please, and, so helpless do they look, that I believe if a child were to attack them, they would appeal to the passers-by for protection.

I see in an English paper of the 3rd that it is believed at Versailles that we have only fresh meat for twelve days. We are not so badly off as that. How many oxen and cows there still are I do not know; a few days ago, however, I counted myself 1,500 in a large pen. The newspapers calculate that at the commencement of the siege there were 100,000 horses in Paris, and that there are now 70,000; 30,000 will be enough for the army, consequently 40,000 can be eaten. The amount of meat on each horse averages 500 lb., consequently we have twenty million pounds of fresh horse-flesh, a quantity which will last us for more than three months at the present rate of the meat consumption. These figures are, I think, very much exaggerated. I should say that there are not more than 40,000 horses now in Paris. The Petites Voitures (Cab) Company has 8,000, and offered to sell them to the Government a few days ago, but that proposal was declined. As regards salt meat, the Government keep secret the amount. It cannot, however, be very great, because it is only derived from animals which have been killed since the siege commenced. The stock of flour, we are told, is practically unlimited, and as no attempt is made to prevent its waste in pasty and fancy cakes, the authorities are acting apparently on this assumption.

The health of Paris is far from satisfactory, and when the winter weather regularly sets in there will be much sickness. No one is absolutely starving, but many are without sufficient nourishment. The Government gives orders for 10c. worth of bread to all who are in want, and these orders are accepted as money by all the bakers. In each arrondissement there are also what are called cantines économiques, where a mess of soup made from vegetables and a small quantity of meat can be bought for five centimes. Very little, however, has been done to distribute warm clothing among the poor, and when it is considered that above 100,000 persons have come into Paris from the neighbouring villages, most of whom are dependent upon public or private charity, it is evident that, even if there is no absolute want, there must be much suffering. Count Bismarck was not far wrong when he said that, if the siege be prolonged until our stock of provisions is exhausted, many thousands in the succeeding weeks will die of starvation. I would recommend those charitable persons who are anxious to come to the aid of this unfortunate country to be ready to throw provisions into Paris as soon as communications with England are reopened, rather than to subscribe their money to ambulances. All things considered, the wounded are well tended. In the hotel in which I am residing the Société Internationale has established its headquarters. We have now 160 wounded here, and beds are prepared for 400. The ambulance occupies two stories, for which 500 francs a day are paid; and an arrangement has been made with the administration of the hotel to feed each convalescent for 2.50 francs per diem. As in all French institutions, there appear to me to be far too many officials; the corridors are pervaded with young healthy men, with the red cross on their arms, who are supposed to be making themselves useful in some mysterious manner, but whose main object in being here is, I imagine, to shirk military service. The ambulance which is considered the best is the American. The wounded are under canvas, the tents are not cold, and yet the ventilation is admirable. The American surgeons are far more skilful in the treatment of gun-shot wounds than their French colleagues. Instead of amputation they practise resection of the bone. It is the dream of every French soldier, if he is wounded, to be taken to this ambulance. They seem to be under the impression that, even if their legs are shot off, the skill of the Æsculapii of the United States will make them grow again. Be this as it may, a person might be worse off than stretched on a bed with a slight wound under the tents of the Far West.

The French have a notion that, go where you may, to the top of a pyramid or to the top of Mont Blanc, you are sure to meet an Englishman reading a newspaper; in my experience of the world, the American girl is far more inevitable than the Britisher; and, of course, under the Stars and Stripes which wave over the American tents she is to be found, tending the sick, and, when there is nothing more to be got for them, patiently reading to them or playing at cards with them. I have a great weakness for the American girl, she always puts her heart in what she is about. When she flirts she does it conscientiously, and when she nurses a most uninviting-looking Zouave, or Franc-tireur, she does it equally conscientiously; besides, as a rule, she is pretty, a gift of nature which I am very far from undervaluing.

November 16th.

It is reported in "official circles" that a second pigeon has arrived with intelligence from the French Consul at Bâle, that the Baden troops have been defeated, and that some of them have been obliged to seek refuge in Switzerland. The evident object of Trochu now is to get up the courage of our warriors to the sticking point for the grand sortie which is put off from day to day. The newspapers contain extracts from the English journals which came in the day before yesterday. By a process, in which we are adepts at believing everything which tells for us, and regarding everything which tells against us as a fabrication of perfidious Albion, we have consoled ourselves with the idea that "the situation is far better than we supposed." As for Bazaine, we cannot make up our minds whether we ought to call him a traitor or a hero. We therefore say as little about him as possible.

I have just come back from the southern outposts. The redoubts of Moulin Saqui and Hautes Bruyères were firing heavily, and the Prussians were replying from Chatillon. Their shrapnell, however, fell short, just within our advanced line. From the sound of the guns, it was supposed that they were only using field artillery. The sailors insist that the enemy has been unable to place his siege-guns in position, and that our fire knocks their earthworks to pieces. I am inclined to think that behind these earthworks there are masked batteries, for surely the Prussian Engineer Officers cannot be amusing themselves with making earthworks for the mere pleasure of seeing them knocked to pieces. Anyhow they are playing a deep game, for, as far as I can hear, they have not fired a single siege-gun yet, either against our redoubts or forts.

November 19th.

Burke, in his work on the French Revolution, augured ill of the future of a country the greater number of whose legislators were lawyers. What would he have said of a Government composed almost exclusively of these objects of his political distrust? When history recounts the follies of the French Republic of 1870, I trust that it will not forget to mention that all the members of the Government, with the exception of one; six ministers; 13 under-secretaries of State; the Préfet of Police; 24 prefets and commissaries sent into the provinces; and 36 other high functionaries; belonged to the legal profession. The natural consequence of this is that we cannot get out of "Nisi prius." Our rulers are unable to take a large statesmanlike view of the situation. They live from hand to mouth, and never rise above the expedients and temporizing policy of advocates. They are perpetually engaged in appealing against the stern logic of facts to some imaginary tribunal, from which they hope to gain a verdict in favour of their clients. Like lawyers in England, they entered public life to "get on." This is still the first object of each one of them; and as they are deputies of Paris, they feel that, next to themselves, they owe allegiance to their electors. To secure the supremacy of Paris over the provinces, and of their own influence over Paris, is the Alpha and Omega of their political creed. With an eye to the future, each of them has his own journal; and when any decree is issued which is not popular, the public is given to understand in these semi-official organs, that every single member of the Government voted against it, although it passed by a majority.