December 15th.
Still no news from the outer world. I trust that M. Jansen, who was dispatched the other day in a balloon to witness the eclipse of the sun, will be more fortunate in his endeavours to discover what is going on in that luminary, than we are in ours to learn what is happening within twenty miles of us. Search has been made to find the peasant who announced that he had seen a French army at Corbeil, but this remarkable agriculturist is not forthcoming. Persons at the outposts say that they heard cannon in the direction of Fontainebleau, when they put their ears to the ground, but none believe them. Four officers, who were taken prisoners on the 12th of the month near Orleans, have been sent in, as an exchange for the Prussian officers who were insulted at a restaurant, but they are so stupid that it has been impossible to glean anything from them except that their division was fighting when they were taken prisoners. A dead, apathetic torpor has settled over the town. Even the clubs are deserted. There are no groups of gossips in the streets. No one clamours for a sortie, and no one either blames or praises Trochu. The newspapers still every morning announce that victory is not far off. But their influence is gone. The belief that the evil day cannot be far off is gradually gaining ground, and those who are in a position to know more accurately the precise state of affairs, take a still more hopeless view of them than the masses. The programme of the Government seems to be this—to make a sortie in a few days, then to fall back beneath the forts; after this to hold out until the provisions are eaten up, and then, after having made a final sortie, to capitulate. Trochu is entirely in the hands of Ducrot, who, with the most enterprising of the officers, insists that the military honour of the French arms demands that there should be more fighting, even though success be not only improbable but impossible. The other day, in a council of war, Trochu began to speak of the armies of the provinces. "I do not care for your armies of the provinces," replied Ducrot. Poor Trochu, like many weak men, must rely upon some one. First it was the neutrals, then it was the armies of the provinces, and now it is Ducrot. As for his famous plan, that has entirely fallen through. It was based, I understand, upon some impossible manœuvres to the north of the Marne. The members of the Government of National Defence meddle little with the direction of affairs. M. Picard is openly in favour of treating at once. M. Jules Favre is very downcast; he too wishes to treat, but he cannot bring himself to consent to a cession of territory. Another member of the Government was talking yesterday to a friend of mine. He seemed to fear that when the people learn that the stock of provisions is drawing to a close, there will be riots. The Government dares not tell them the truth. Several members of the Government, I hear, intend to leave shortly in balloons, and Trochu, as military Governor of Paris, will be left to his own devices. He himself says that he never will sign a capitulation, and it is suggested that when there is no more food, the Prussians shall be allowed to enter without opposition, without any terms having been previously agreed to. The Parisians are now contending for their supremacy over the provinces, and they seem to think that if they only hold out until famine obliges them to give in, that supremacy will not hereafter be disputed.
It is impossible to give precise data respecting the store of provisions now in Paris, nor even were I able would it be fair to do so. As a matter of private opinion, however, I do not think that it will be possible to prolong the resistance beyond the first week in January at the latest. Last Sunday there were incipient bread-riots. By one o'clock all the bakers had closed their shops in the outer faubourg. There had been a run upon them, because a decree had been issued in the morning forbidding flour to be sold, and requisitioning all the biscuits in stock. Government immediately placarded a declaration that bread was not going to be requisitioned, and the explanation of the morning's decree is that flour and not corn has run short, but that new steam-mills are being erected to meet the difficulty. La Vérité, a newspaper usually well informed, says that for some days past the flour which had been stored in the town by M. Clément Duvernois has been exhausted, and that we are now living on the corn and meal which was introduced at the last moment from the neighbouring departments. It gives the following calculation of our resources—flour three weeks, corn three months, salt meat fifteen days, horse two months. The mistake of all these calculations seems to be that they do not take into account the fact that more bread or more corn will be eaten when they become the sole means of providing for the population. Thus the daily return of flour sold in Paris is about one-third above the average. The reason is simple, and yet it seems to occur to no one. French people, more particularly the poorer classes, can exist upon much less than Englishmen; but the prospect for any one blessed with a good appetite is by no means reassuring. In the Rue Blanche there is a butcher who sells dogs, cats, and rats. He has many customers, but it is amusing to see them sneak into the shop after carefully looking round to make sure that none of their acquaintances are near. A prejudice has arisen against rats, because the doctors say that their flesh is full of trichinæ. I own for my part I have a guilty feeling when I eat dog, the friend of man. I had a slice of a spaniel the other day, it was by no means bad, something like lamb, but I felt like a cannibal. Epicures in dog flesh tell me that poodle is by far the best, and recommend me to avoid bull dog, which is coarse and tasteless. I really think that dogs have some means of communicating with each other, and have discovered that their old friends want to devour them. The humblest of street curs growls when anyone looks at him. Figaro has a story that a man was followed for a mile by a party of dogs barking fiercely at his heels. He could not understand to what their attentions were due, until he remembered that he had eaten a rat for his breakfast. The friend of another journalist, who ate a dog called Fox, says that whenever anyone calls out "Fox" he feels an irresistible impulse which forces him to jump up. As every Christmas a number of books are published containing stories about dogs as remarkable as they are stale, I recommend to their authors these two veracious tales. Their veracity is guaranteed by Parisian journalists. Can better evidence be required?
We are already discussing who will be sent to Germany. We suppose that the army and the Mobiles, and perhaps the officers of the National Guard will have to make the journey. One thing, I do hope that the Prussians will convey across the Rhine all the Parisian journalists, and keep them there until they are able to pass an elementary examination in the literature, the politics, the geography, and the domestic economy of Germany. A little foreign travel would do these blind leaders of the blind a world of good, and on their return they would perhaps have cleared their minds of their favourite delusion that civilization is co-terminous with the frontiers of France.
How M. Picard provides for the financial requirements of his colleagues is a mystery. The cost of the siege amounts in hard cash to about £20,000,000. To meet the daily draw on the exchequer no public loan has been negotiated, and nothing is raised by taxation. The monthly instalments which have been paid on the September loan cannot altogether amount to very much, consequently the greater portion of this large sum can only have been obtained by a loan from the bank and by bons de trésor (exchequer bills). What the proportion between the bank loan and the bons de trésor in circulation is I am unable to ascertain. M. Picard, like all finance ministers, groans daily over the cost of the prolongation of the siege, and it certainly appears a very doubtful question whether France will really benefit by Paris living at its expense for another month.
Military matters remain in statu quo. The army is camped in the wood of Vincennes. The forts occasionally fire. The Prussians seem to be of opinion that our next sortie will be in the plain of Genevilliers, as they are working hard on their fortifications along their lines between St. Denis and St. Cloud, and they have replaced the levies of the smaller States by what we call here "real" Prussians. Our engineer officers consider that the Prussians have three lines of investment, the first comparatively weak, the second composed of strategical lines, by which a force of 40,000 men can be brought on any point within two hours; the third consisting of redoubts, which would prevent artillery getting by them. To invest a large town, say our officers, is not so difficult a task as it would appear at first sight. Artillery can only move along roads, and consequently all that is necessary is to occupy the roads solidly. General Blanchard has been removed from his command, and is to be employed in the Third Army under Vinoy. His dispute with Ducrot arose from a remark which the latter made respecting officers who did not remain with their men after a battle; and as Blanchard had been in Paris the day before, he took this general stricture to himself. Personalities of a very strong nature were exchanged between the two warriors, and it was thought well that henceforward they should, as much as possible, be kept apart. General Favé also, who commanded the redoubt near Joinville, which arrested the advance of the Prussians on the second battle of Villiers, has "had words." It appears that he declined to obey an order which was forwarded to him, on the ground of its absurdity, saying that he was responsible to his conscience. Indiscipline has been the curse of the French army since the commencement of the war, and it will continue to be so to the end. During the siege there have been many individual traits of heroism, but the armed force has been little better than a mob, and Trochu has not had the moral courage to enforce his will on his generals. Ducrot says that he is determined to take the war battalions of the National Guards under fire at the next sortie, but whether he will succeed remains to be seen. In these marching battalions there are undoubtedly many brave men, but both officers and soldiers are inexperienced, and when they see men falling before them, struck down by an invisible enemy, they lose all presence of mind.
I do not think, as far as regards the Parisians, Count Bismarck is right in his opinion that the French will for many years to come attempt to reverse the verdict of the present war. The Parisian bourgeois is fond of saving money. As long as war meant a military promenade of the army across the Rhine, followed by a triumphal entry into Paris, he was by no means averse to it, for he considered that a French victory reflected itself on him, and made him a hero in the eyes of the world. Now, however, that he has discovered that there is a reverse to this picture, and that it may very possibly mean ruin to himself, he will be very cautious before he again risks the hazard of the die. Should the disasters of France result in the emancipation of the provinces from the rule of Paris, they will be a positive benefit to the nation. If the thirty-eight million Frenchmen outside Paris are such fools as to allow themselves to be ruled by the two million amiable, ignorant, bragging humbugs who are within it, France will most deservedly cease to be a power of Europe. If this country is to recover from the ruin in which it is overwhelmed it is absolutely essential that Paris should cease to be its political capital, and that the Parisians should not have a greater share in moulding its future policy than they are numerically entitled to.
CHAPTER XIV.
December 18th.