It must be remembered that the members of the Government of the National Defense were self-appointed. They were always preaching of their earnest desire to appeal to the people. Here was the opportunity, and they rejected it. It is a pleasant thing to appoint yourself and your particular friends rulers of a great country like France, and one does not readily resign the position. The people might not re-appoint you.
As we left the Louvre, I said to Burnside, "If France is to be saved, it will not be by that man." "I don't know that—I don't know that," he replied. He was evidently impressed by Trochu's eloquence and emotion, and ready tear.
It has been stated that Bismarck refused to enter into negotiations with the Government of the National Defense; that he would not recognize its self-assumed authority, and considered that there was no evidence that it was recognized by the majority of the French people; for there were riots in the great cities of the South, and disturbances in Brittany. Bismarck recognized it or not, as suited his policy, and that policy was exclusively the interests of Germany. Had Trochu waived the food question, Bismarck would have promptly recognized him and his colleagues, so far, at least, as to make an armistice with them, as he afterward did.
Burnside returned that afternoon to Versailles. I accompanied him as far as Sèvres. Trochu sent a carriage for us. It was odd to find one's self in one of the old imperial barouches, drawn by the famous post-horses of the Emperor. We drove through the Bois by Rothschild's house, and so to the broken bridge at Sèvres. In the Bois desolation reigned. The trees were cut down within three hundred yards of the ramparts, the roads torn up and torpedoes planted in them. The swans had gone to feed the hungry soldiers, and the ducks, to avoid the same fate, kept wisely out in the middle of the lake. When we had reached the bridge, a bugle sounded on the French side, and a white flag was displayed. It was soon answered from the German side, and a similar flag was raised. At once the French troops lounged from under cover, their hands in their pockets, and down to the water's edge. The Prussians were kept concealed. They saw us, no doubt, but not one of them was to be seen. Presently, a Prussian officer descended the street, followed by a flag-bearer. He stalks across the bridge to the broken arch, turns, takes the flag from the bearer, and plants the staff in the bridge, with an air as if to say "Touch that, if you dare." The French soldiers are evidently impressed. They mutter, "Voici des militaires." The officer asks in French, "Are those the American generals?" "They are." "Then let them pass." Burnside requests permission to take Antoine with him, the messenger of the Legation. "Is he an American?" "Yes." "Then he can come, of course." The steam-launch puffs up, and the party cross. I cross with them, but return at once to the French side. The soldiers disappear, the flag is lowered, and the firing recommences. I have been rather minute in this description, as the same ceremonies were observed twice a week, when we sent and received our dispatch-bags.
The German Government complained on several occasions of the violation of flags of truce. These complaints were addressed to the French authorities through us. Indeed, every communication addressed to the French Government and its replies were sent through the Legation. This kept us busy even during the quiet days of the siege. The violation of parole was another fruitful source of correspondence. The Germans sent us a list of over twenty-five officers, whom they alleged had broken their paroles. In some cases—that of General Ducrot, for instance—there are two sides to the question. He claimed that it was a legitimate escape, and the French press was unanimously of his opinion. There was another branch of correspondence that occupied a good deal of our time. The two governments, to their credit be it spoken, did not allow the war to interfere with the administration of justice. Under their treaties each Government was bound to serve upon its own subjects all legal documents in civil suits emanating from the courts of the other. This was done throughout the war, and they all passed through our hands.
There was, too, correspondence between the two hostile governments upon other subjects. Among them I recollect one in relation to the Francs-Tireurs. The Germans treated these irregulars as guerrillas. The French remonstrated. The Germans answered that they had no uniform; that they wore the blue blouse, which is the national dress of the French peasant; and that they ought to wear something which could be distinguished at rifle range. I do not remember how the matter was settled, but I believe that the Francs-Tireurs gradually disappeared, absorbed in the Mobiles.
Not long after Burnside's mission I paid a second visit to Trochu. Mr. Washburne had applied to the Germans for permission for Americans and other foreigners to leave Paris. The King accorded it at once. Any American could leave on Mr. Washburne's pass, any other foreigner on the same pass, provided that his name had first been submitted to and accepted by the German authorities. Having obtained this concession, Mr. Washburne next applied to the French Government for its permission. To his surprise, it was refused. He could not understand it. That the Germans should wish to keep in the city a number of "useless mouths" to help consume the provision, was natural, but that the French, who, for the same reason, ought to have wished to get rid of them, should refuse to let them go, was inconceivable. But Washburne was not the man to sit down quietly under a refusal in a matter like this. He insisted that they must go, and should go. Favre was evidently on his side, and we had reason to believe that he was backed by some, at least, of his colleagues. Trochu opposed the departure for fear of the effect upon Belleville. If I had not heard him say so, I could not have believed it.
As Washburne insisted, and Favre was in favor of the permission being given, an interview was arranged with Trochu. The "Governor of Paris," as he loved to call himself, made us another oration. It was very much a rehash of the first. He then stated that he had been unwilling that the "strangers" should leave Paris; it looked like "rats deserting the sinking ship;" he feared the effect upon Belleville. But out of regard for Mr. Washburne, and in deference to the opinion of some of his colleagues, he would now consent. He added that he would send an aid-de-camp to Belleville, to spread the report that it was the diplomatic corps leaving the capital. I looked at him with astonishment. That he should tell a lie was bad enough, but that he should tell it out of fear of that wretched mob was a degree of weakness I was not prepared for.