Diary of the Besieged Resident in Paris | Page 6

to Embassy. Messenger Johnson arrived this morning at 12
o'clock. He had driven to Rouen. At each post station he was arrested.
He drove up to the Embassy, followed by a howling mob. As he wore
an unknown uniform they took him for a Prussian. Messenger Johnson,
being an old soldier, was belligerently inclined. "The first man who
approaches," &c. The porter of the Embassy, however, dragged him
inside, and explained to the mob who he was. He had great difficulty in
calming them. One man sensibly observed that in these times no one
should drive through Paris in a foreign uniform, as the mass of the
people knew nothing of Queen's messengers and their uniforms.
Messenger Johnson having by this time got within the Embassy gates,
the mob turned on his postilion and led him off. What his fate has been
no one has had time to ask.

When I went upstairs I found Wodehouse sitting like patience on a
stool, with a number of Britons round him, who wanted to get off out of
Paris. Wodehouse very justly told them that Lord Lyons had given
them due notice to leave, and that they had chosen at their own risk to
remain. The Britons seemed to imagine that their Embassy was bound
to find them a road by which they might safely withdraw from the town.
One very important Briton was most indignant--"I am a man of wealth
and position. I am not accustomed to be treated in this manner. What is
the use of you, sir, if you cannot ensure my safe passage to England? If
I am killed the world shall ring with it. I shall myself make a formal
complaint to Lord Granville," said this incoherent and pompous donkey.
Exit man of position fuming; enter unprotected female. Of course she
was a widow, of course she had lost half-a-dozen sons, of course she
kept lodgings, and of course she wanted her "hambassader" generally to
take her under his wing. I left Wodehouse explaining to her that if she
went out of Paris even with a pass, she might or might not be shot
according to circumstances. I will say for him that I should not be as
patient as he is, were I worried and badgered by the hour by a crowd of
shrieking women and silly men.
4 P.M.
Fighting is going on all round Paris. There are crowds on the Boulevard;
every one is asking his neighbour for news. I went to one of the Mairies
to hear the bulletins read. The street was almost impassable. At last I
got near enough to hear an official read out a despatch--nothing
important. The commanders at Montrouge and Vincennes announce
that the Prussians are being driven back. "Et Clamart?" some one cries.
"A bas les alarmistes," is the reply. Every one is despondent. Soldiers
have come back from Meudon demoralised. We have lost a position, it
is whispered. I find a friend, upon whose testimony I can rely, who was
near Meudon until twelve o'clock. He tells me that the troops of the line
behaved badly. They threw away their muskets without firing a shot,
and there was a regular sauve qui peut. The Mobiles, on the other hand,
fought splendidly, and were holding the position when he left. I am
writing this in a café. It is full of Gardes Nationaux. They are saying
that if the troops of the line are not trustworthy, resistance is hopeless.

A Garde National gives the following explanation of the demoralisation
of the army. He says that the Imperial Government only troubled itself
about the corps d'élite; that the object in the line regiments was to get
substitutes as cheaply as possible; consequently, they are filled with
men physically and morally the scum of the nation. Semaphore
telegraphs have been put up on all the high public buildings. There are
also semaphores on the forts. I see that one opposite me is exchanging
signals. The crowd watch them as though by looking they would
discover what they mean. "A first success," says a National next to me,
"was absolutely necessary for us, in order to give us confidence." "But
this success we do not seem likely to have," says another. The attempt
to burn down the forests seems only partially to have succeeded. The
Prussians appear to be using them, and the French to the last carrying
on war without scouts.
6 P.M.
Evening papers just out. Not a word about Clamart. The Liberté says
the Minister of the Interior refers journalists to General Trochu, who
claims the right to suppress what he pleases. When will French
Governments understand that it is far more productive of
demoralisation to allow no official news to be published than to publish
the worst? Rochefort