It is somewhat strange that the military man who, by the force of circumstances, is the President of this Devil's own Government is by nature more of a lawyer than even if he had been bred up to the trade. His colleagues own in despair that he is their master in strength of lungs, and that when they split straws into two he splits them into four. In vain they fall back on their pens and indite letters and proclamations, their President out-letters and out-proclaims them. Trochu is indeed a sort of military Ollivier. He earned his spurs as a military critic, Ollivier as a civil critic. Both are clever, and eminently respectable in their private relations, and both are verbose, unpractical, and wanting in plain common sense. Ollivier had a plan, and so has Trochu. Ollivier complained when his plan failed, that it was the fault of every one except himself, and Trochu is already doing the same. Both protested against the system of rule adopted by their predecessors, and have followed in their steps. Both were advocates of publicity, and both audaciously suppressed and distorted facts to suit their convenience. Ollivier is probably now writing a book to prove that he was the wisest of ministers. Trochu, as soon as the siege is over, will write one to prove that he was the best of generals. Ollivier insisted that he could found a Liberal Government upon an Imperial basis, and miserably failed. Trochu declares that he, and he alone, can force the Prussians to raise the siege of Paris. When his plan has failed, as fail it in all probability will, he still, with that serene assurance which is the attribute of mediocrity, will insist that it ought to have succeeded. "Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni." Those who knew him in Brittany tell me that long before he became a personage, "le plan de Trochu" was a standing joke throughout that province. The General, it appears, is fond of piquet; whenever he sat down to play he said, "j'ai mon plan." When he got up after losing the game, as was usually the case, he went away muttering, "Cependant, mon plan était bon." He seemed to have this word "plan" on the brain, for no one who ever played with him could perceive in his mode of handling the cards the slightest trace of a plan. The mania was harmless as long as its exhibition was confined to a game in which a few francs were to be won or lost, but it becomes most serious in its consequences when the destinies of a country are subordinated to it. At the commencement of the siege, General Trochu announced that he not only had a "plan," but that he had inscribed it in his will, which was deposited with his notary. An ordinary man would have made use of the materials at his command, and, without pledging himself to success, would have endeavoured to give the provinces time to organize an army of succour by harassing the Prussians, and thus preventing them from detaching troops in all directions. Instead of this, with the exception of some two or three harmless sorties, they have been allowed slowly to inclose us in a net of circumvallations. Our provisions are each day growing more scarce, and nothing is done except to heap up defensive works to prevent the town being carried by an assault, which there is no probability that the besiegers mean to attempt. Chatillon and Meudon were ill guarded, but ditches were cut along the Avenue de l'Impératrice. The young unmarried men in Paris were not incorporated until the 50th day of the siege, but two or three times a week they were lectured on their duties as citizens by their leader. If there is really to be a sortie, everything is ready, but now the General hesitates—hints that he is not seconded, that the soldiers will not fight, and almost seems to regret at last his own theoretical presumption. "He trusted," said one of his generals to me, "first to the neutrals, then to the provinces, and now he is afraid to trust to himself." Next time a general is besieged in a town I should recommend him not to announce that he has a plan which must ensure victory, unless indeed it be a German town, where nothing which an official can do is considered ridiculous.
Benjamin Constant said of his countrymen that their heads could never contain more than one idea at once. A few days ago we were full of our victory at Orleans. Then came the question whether or not Bazaine was a traitor. To-day we have forgotten Bazaine and Orleans. The marching battalions of the National Guard are to have new coats, and we can talk or think of nothing else. The effect as yet of these marching battalions has been to disorganise the existing battalions. Every day some new decree has been issued altering their mode of formation. Perhaps the new coats will settle everything, and convert them into excellent soldiers. Let us hope it.
We are by no means satisfied with the news which has reached us through the English papers up to the 3rd. Thus the Liberté, after giving extracts from numbers of the Pall Mall Gazette, the Daily News, the Daily Telegraph, the Sun, the Times, and the Standard, accompanies them with the following reflections:—"We feel bound to protest in favour of the English press against the assertions of those who would judge the opinions of a great liberal nation by the wretched specimens which are under our eyes. Heaven be praised. The civilized world is not so degenerate that the ignoble conduct of Prussia fails to elicit universal reprobation." We have had two more pigeons, but Gambetta either cannot or will not let us know anything of importance. These two messengers confirm the news of the "victory of Orleans," and inform us that public opinion is daily pronouncing in favour of France, and that the condition of affairs in the provinces is most satisfactory. Such is the universal distrust felt now for any intelligence which emanates from an official source, that if Gambetta were to send us in an account of a new victory to-morrow, and if all his colleagues here were to swear to its truth, we should be in a wild state of enthusiasm for a few hours, and then disbelieve the whole story.
Small-pox is on the increase. The deaths last week from this disease amounted to 419; the general mortality to 1885—a number far above the average. The medical men complain of the amount of raw spirits which is drunk—particularly at the ramparts, and ascribe much of the ill health to this cause.
By the bye, the question of the treason of Bazaine turns with us upon what your correspondent at Saarbruck meant by the word "stores," which he says were discovered in Metz. If munitions of war, we say that Bazaine was a hero; if food, that he was a traitor.
If sieges were likely to occur frequently, the whole system of ambulances, as against military hospitals, would have to be ventilated. There are in Paris two hundred and forty-three ambulances, and when the siege commenced, such was the anxiety to obtain a blessé, that when a sortie took place, those who brought them in were offered bribes to take them to some house over which the flag of Geneva waved. A man with a broken leg or arm was worth thirty francs to his kind preservers. The largest ambulance is the International. Its headquarters are at the Grand Hotel. It seems to me over-manned, for the number of the healthy who receive pay and rations from its funds exceeds the number of the wounded. Many, too, of the former are young unmarried men, who ought to be serving either in the ranks of the army, or at least of the Garde Nationale. The following story I take from an organ of public opinion of to-day's date:—A lady went to her Mairie to ask to be given a wounded soldier to look after. She was offered a swarthy Zouave. "No," she said, "I wish for a blonde, being a brunette myself"—nothing like a contrast.
CHAPTER XII.
November 29th.
From morning to evening cannon were rolling and troops were marching through the streets. Since Saturday night the gates of the town had been rigidly closed to all civilians, and even those provided with passes from headquarters were refused egress. It was known that the grand effort which is to make or mar us was to be made the next morning, and it was hoped that the Prussians would be taken unawares. The plan, in its main details, was confided to me by half a dozen persons, and, therefore, I very much question whether it is a secret to the enemy. Most of those who take an interest in the war have, I presume, a map of Paris. If they consult it, they will see that the Marne from the east, and the Seine from the south, unite about a mile from the south-eastern corner of the enceinte. Two miles before the junction of the two rivers the Marne makes a loop to the south, in this way running parallel with the Seine for about three miles. On the north of the Marne towards Paris lies the wood of Vincennes, and beyond the loop there are the villages of Joinville, Nogent, and Brie. The line is defended by the forts of Vincennes and Nogent and the redoubt of La Faisanderie. To the south, between the loop and the Seine, is the fort of Charenton; a little farther on the village of Creteil; beyond it, just outside the loop, is Montmesly, where the Prussians have heavy batteries. On the north side of the loop is the village of Champigny, which is situated on a plateau that extends from there to Brie. On the south of Paris, between the Seine and Meudon, are first a line of forts, then a line of redoubts, except where Chatillon cuts in close by the Fort of Vanves. Beyond this line of redoubts is a plain, that slopes down towards the villages of L'Hay, Chevilly, Thiais, and Choisy-le-Roi, which is situated on the Seine about five miles from Paris. By Monday evening about 100,000 men and 400 cannon were massed under General Ducrot in the Bois de Vincennes and in the adjacent villages. About 15,000 men, under General Vinoy, were behind the southern line of redoubts close by the village of Villejuif. Troops were also placed near St. Denis and in the peninsula of Genevilliers to distract the attention of the enemy. It was arranged that early in the morning General Vinoy should push forward in the direction of L'Hay and Choisy, and then, when the Prussian reserves had been attracted to the south by this demonstration, Ducrot should throw bridges over the Marne and endeavour to force his way through the lines of investment by the old high road of Bâle. At one in the morning a tremendous cannonade from all the forts and redoubts round Paris commenced. It was so loud that I imagined that the Prussians were attempting an assault, and I went off to the southern ramparts to see what was happening. The sight there was a striking one. The heavy booming of the great guns, the bright flash each time they fired, and the shells with their lighted fusees rushing through the air, and bursting over the Prussian lines, realised what the French call a "feu d'enfer." At about three o'clock the firing slackened, and I went home, but at four it recommenced. At six o'clock General Vinoy's troops advanced in two columns, one against L'Hay, and the other against La Gare aux Bœufs, a fortified enclosure, about a mile above Choisy-le-Roi. The latter was speedily occupied, a body of sailors rushing into it, and carrying all before them, the Prussians falling back on Choisy. At L'Hay the attacking column met with a strenuous resistance. As soon as it had passed the barricade at the entrance of the village, a heavy fire was poured into it from the houses at both sides of the main street. A hand-to-hand encounter then took place with the Prussian Guard, which had been brought up as a reinforcement. While the fight was progressing an order arrived from General Trochu to retreat. The same order was sent to the Gare aux Bœufs, and by ten o'clock the troops to the south of Paris had fallen back to the positions they occupied the previous evening. General Vinoy, during the engagement, was with his staff on the bridge which crosses the Seine near Charenton. A battalion of National Guards were drawn up near him. A chance shell took off the legs of one of these heroes, his comrades fled in dismay—they were rallied and brought back with difficulty. A little later they were engaged in cooking their food, when some tin pans fell against each other. Thinking it was a bomb, they again scattered, and the General was obliged to ride along the line shouting "Courage, courage; it is the soup, my children." In the meantime a terrible mishap had occurred on the north of the Marne. On Monday evening, General Trochu and General Ducrot slept at Vincennes. The latter had issued an address, in which he informed his troops that he meant either to conquer or die. During the night an exchange of shots had taken place across the river between the French and Prussian sharp-shooters. Towards morning the latter had withdrawn. At break of day the troops were drawn up ready to cross the river as soon as the engagement on the southern lines had diverted the attention of the enemy. The bridges were there ready to be thrown across, when it was discovered that the Marne had overflown its bed, and could not be crossed. Whether it be true or not that the Prussians had cut a dam, or whether, as sometimes occurs with literary generals, the pontoons were too few in number, is not yet clear. Whatever the cause, the effect was to render it impossible to carry out to-day the plan which was to take General Ducrot and his troops down to Orleans, and at the present moment he and they are still at Vincennes, waiting for the river to go down. At twelve o'clock I managed to get through the gate of Vanves. Outside the walls everything was quiet. Troops were massed in all sheltered places to resist any attack which might be made from the plateau of Chatillon. None of the officers seemed to know what had occurred. Some thought that Choisy had been taken, others that Ducrot had got clear away. I was walking along the outposts in advance of Vanves, when a cantankerous officer, one of those beings overflowing with ill-regulated zeal, asked me what I was doing. I showed my pass. My zealous friend insisted that I had come in from the Prussian lines, and that I probably was a spy. I said I had left Paris an hour ago. He replied that this was impossible, as no civilian was allowed to pass through the gate. Things began to look uncomfortable. The zealot talked of shooting me, as a simple and expeditious mode of solving the question. To this I objected, and so at length it was agreed that I should be marched off to the fort of Vanves. We found the Commandant seated before his fort with a big stick in his hand, like a farmer before his farm yard. In vain the zealot endeavoured to excite his ire against me. The Commandant and I got into conversation and became excellent friends. He, too, knew nothing of what had occurred. He had been bombarding Chatillon, he said, and he supposed he should soon receive orders to recommence. What seemed to surprise him was that the Prussians during the whole night had not replied either from Chatillon, Sèvres, or Meudon to the French guns. From Vanves I went to Villejuif, where a temporary ambulance had been erected, and the surgeons were busy with the wounded. As soon as their wounds were dressed, they were taken in ambulance carts inside the town. The officers and soldiers, who had not yet learnt that General Ducrot had failed to cross the Marne, were in a very bad humour at having been ordered to withdraw at the very moment when they were carrying everything before them. They represented the Prussians as having fought like devils, and declared that they appeared to take a fiendish pleasure in killing even the wounded. Within the town the excitement to know what had passed is intense. The Government has posted up a notice saying that everything is happening as General Trochu wished it. Not a word is said about Ducrot's failure. The Liberté, which gives a guarded account of what really took place, has been torn to pieces on the Boulevards. I have just been talking with an officer on the headquarters staff. He tells me that Trochu is still outside, very much cast down, but determined to make a desperate effort to retrieve matters to-morrow.