CHAPTER XIV. THE PRUSSIANS IN FRANCE.

The Prussian army was more than two weeks on the road from Sedan to Paris and Versailles, and it was just one month after the French emperor surrendered before the king of Prussia made his headquarters in the beautiful city which seems to enshrine the memory of Louis XIV.

On Sunday, September 18, a scouting party of three Uhlans made their appearance at the gates of Versailles. They had in fact lost their way, and stumbled unawares upon the city; however, they rode boldly up to the gate, demanded admittance, and presented themselves at the mairie, bringing terror and dismay to the inhabitants. When the maire presented himself at their summons, they demanded on what terms Versailles would surrender? He replied that he could not treat with private soldiers, but must see their officers. "Oh, our officers are close at hand," they replied; "they are waiting with a large force in yonder woods. If you come to the gate, they will meet you there." The maire assented, and the audacious Uhlans galloped safely away. Let us hope that at their firesides in the far-off Fatherland they still laugh over this unparalleled adventure.

A few hours later, news was received at Versailles that fighting was going on towards the south of Paris between French troops and the Prussians; and all the inhabitants, including foreign residents, were busy in preparing supplies for the field-hospitals, - lint, bandages, water-cans, and pillows stuffed with torn paper. Before long, eight Prussians and an officer entered the city. They were thus described by one who saw them as they dashed up to the mairie through an excited crowd: -

"They were small men. They had light hair, but were very thick-set. They looked very tired, and were covered with dust and with torn clothes: but they had good horses. They wore the Prussian helmet and spike, and were well armed, with a sabre on one side and on the other a huge horse-pistol two feet long, while they carried carbines in their hands, all ready to shoot if occasion offered. But all the French soldiers had left Versailles, except a few National Guards. The inhabitants looked very sad; the women were crying, and the men looked as if they would like to. We walked on, when suddenly we saw a troop of horsemen come through an arch that spanned one of the main roads; behind came more, and more, and more. The first were fifty Uhlans. These fellows were in blue, on horseback, very handsome. Then came some men with silver death's-heads and crossbones on their caps; then hundreds and hundreds of mounted fellows with needle-guns and sabres; then three regiments of infantry, marching in superb time. Every five hundred men had a drum corps and fifes playing in perfect unison. You could almost feel the ground shake with the steady thud of their march as they tramped on. The men looked dirty and tired, but were fat, and many of them were laughing. Looking down the road as far as possible, we could still see helmets, spikes, and guns all leaning exactly the same way, and glittering in the sunshine. All the officers looked like gentlemen, with great whiskers, and jolly, fat faces. None of the men talked, much less sang, as the French do. When these had passed, there came a splendid band of sixty pieces, playing beautifully, and then regiment after regiment of cavalry (not carrying as much, nearly, as the French cavalry do). Their horses were in excellent order, many of them very handsome. Lots of the soldiers were smoking great German pipes.

"This was the army of the Crown Prince, less than a third of those that entered the city. They passed through Versailles, only stopping to repair the roads torn up by the peasantry. Next came artillery and baggage-wagons, and carts of ammunition; more infantry, more bands, fifty pontoons on carts; more cavalry; then hundreds of soldiers on peasants' carts, which they had requisitioned as they passed through the country; then ambulances and carts, full of wounded, who were brought to the Hotel des Reservoirs and to the Palace. They began to pass at half-past one, and were passing three hours; and I saw just as many more going by another road, where they passed till seven in the evening. There seemed, at times, to be a hunting corps, for every man would have a fat hare or rabbit, or hens, ducks, pheasants, or partridges slung on his back. One man I saw with a live sheep, full grown, over his shoulders.

"Only four regiments of infantry, one of cavalry, and four batteries of artillery remained in Versailles that night. They camped upon the Place d'Armes, lit fires, and cooked. Everything was remarkable for neatness; the cannon and powder-carts were arranged in order in a circle, horses all fastened inside the circle, soldiers all sleeping round it. They took off their knapsacks, stacked their guns, put their helmets on the top of their bayonets, unrolled their great-coats, and lay down, still wearing sword and pistols, with their guns at arm's length. Thus they pass the night, rain or shine (they have no tents) and they look as hardy and strong as lions.

"By the time the Prussians were fairly in their quarters the inhabitants of Versailles seemed to take heart and to be much less frightened. Many French peasants could talk German, and conversed freely with the Prussians, interpreting what they said to an eager crowd. The soldiers seemed to be well fed; we saw them dining on bread and cheese, butter, sausages, and wine. In the evening they were very jolly. Fires flickered all around; the soldiers sat singing and smoking. Some milked cows that they had stolen, and some were cooking game. The formal way in which everything was done was very curious. At the gate of every house where officers were quartered were two sentries, and every time an officer passed, these men were obliged to go through five movements with their guns. On all the doors of all the houses the names of the officers stationed there were marked in chalk, and a field-telegraph line in the streets connected every such house with the mairie."

This account of the entry of the Prussians into Versailles is from the private letter of a very young man, with the eye of an artist and a keen love of music and fine horses. The letter was seen by the editor of the "Nation," who requested leave to publish it. The writer says further, -

"I got up at seven on the morning of September 20, and went down to the Place d'Armes. It was filled with Prussian soldiers; some were sleeping, some were cooking, some eating, some grooming horses, some washing cannon, and all were smoking. There were but two tents, belonging to high officers. One of these was dressing in the open air before his tent. A guard paced up and down with a drawn sword. When I got there, he was brushing his hair and putting on his cravat, while a little French boy held a looking-glass for him. He had a bright red shirt on, and riding-boots up to his hips, and silver spurs. I saw his horse brought up, a beautiful, great black one. His coat was covered all over with decorations, and he had a very brilliant sword. In the other tent there were two officers writing. They had about fifty bottles of claret and champagne stacked up beside them, and a guard set over it.

"In a little while all was bustle, but no confusion. All the cannon and powder-carts were ranged in numerical order; the horses the same; and every bucket and every pot was numbered like the cart to which it belonged. Soon as the bugles sounded, every man jumped, and knew what he had to do. There was ringing and rattling of chains, and the horses were fastened to the cannon, the soldiers gobbled their last mouthfuls, strapped on their knapsacks, and in a few minutes everything was in motion, officers giving their orders; the horses neighed, the line was formed, and off they went.

"That afternoon we saw some French peasants brought in; they had fired on the men who were stealing their carts, horses, and cows, and were to be shot. It was very sorrowful. We heard afterwards that the Crown Prince had pardoned them. Some noble-looking Zouave prisoners[1] were also brought in, and the crowd cheered them.

[Footnote 1: Possibly some of the men who had shown "regrettable haste" the day before.]

"About one P. M. a squad of Uhlans, with long lances and black-and-white flags came in; then came other men leading horses, all very handsome, belonging to the Crown Prince. Then came the royal baggage, cart after cart, mostly painted purple, with a great gold crown; but some carts had once been French. One of the bands had a brass drum, with the imperial eagle and 3d Zouaves painted on it. They showed it to the bystanders and laughed. We found that the Crown Prince was to be received at the prefecture, - a handsome building with a large court in front, and a black-and-gilt grille, such as they have round the palace and park. We went there at once. A guard of honor was drawn up in front, and a full band on each side of the gate. The Crown Prince was surrounded by a splendid staff. He is quite handsome, with large bushy beard and moustache. He was dressed like his officers, and wore a cap such as they all wear, with a scarlet band; but he had lots of decorations and a splendid diamond star. They all had most beautiful horses, and the effect was very kingly. The bands played, and the troops presented arms. The prince rode in first, then all followed him into the courtyard. They took possession, and the gates were closed. The next day the prince left to join the king at Ferrieres. The palace is appropriated to the Prussian wounded."

By September 23 the Prussians had completed their investment of Paris. They were only two hundred and fifty thousand men, but, disciplined as we can see they were by the letter I have quoted, they were more than a match for the four hundred thousand disorganized and undisciplined crowd within the walls of the capital, who called themselves soldiers.

Strasburg surrendered on the very day that the Crown Prince of Prussia and his brilliant suite entered Versailles. Strasburg is the capital city of Alsace, and is considered the central point in the defence of the Rhine frontier. It has a glorious cathedral, and a library unsurpassed in its collection of historical documents of antiquity. It is an arch-bishopric, and had always been defended by a large garrison. With Paris, Lyons, Bordeaux, Marseilles, and Rouen, it had stood foremost among French cities. It contained, when invested, twenty thousand fighting men, and it was besieged at first by a corps of about sixty thousand. Its investment was one of the first acts of the Germans on entering France. Strasburg made an heroic resistance for six weeks, and surrendered on the day when Jules Favre was assuring Count Bismarck that France would never repay the services of its heroic garrison by consenting to give them up as prisoners of war. Before its surrender it suffered six days' bombardment. A bombardment is far more destructive to a small town than to a city of "magnificent distances" like Paris. By September 9, a week after Sedan, ninety-eight Prussian rifled cannon and forty mortars were placed in position and directed against the walls of Strasburg, while forty other pieces were to bombard the citadel. By September 12 the defences of the city were laid in ruins. Two weeks after, it surrendered. The Mobiles and National Guards, being Alsatians, were sent to their homes; the remaining five thousand men, who were regular soldiers, were marched as prisoners of war into Germany. Hardly a house in Strasburg remained untouched by shells. The ordinary provisions were exhausted. The only thing eatable, of which there was abundance, was Strasburg pie, pate de foie gras, - the year's production of that delicacy having been stored in Strasburg for exportation.

The famous library was greatly injured, but the cathedral was not materially hurt. A German who had been in Hamburg during the time of the great fire, assured an English reporter that the scene of desolation in that city on the morning after the conflagration was less heart-rending than that presented by the ruined quarters of Strasburg when the Prussian conquerors marched in. And yet the inhabitants, had General Ulrich been willing, would have still fought on.

Metz capitulated one month after Strasburg, Oct. 27, 1870. Three marshals of France, six thousand officers, and one hundred and seventy-three thousand men surrendered to the Germans. Many were entirely demoralized; but the Garde Imperiale, a body of picked troops, was faithful to the last.

"That a vast army which had given ample proof of military worth in the two great battles of Gravelotte, and which moreover possessed the support of the most important stronghold in France, should have permitted a scarcely superior enemy to hem it in and to detain it for weeks, making no earnest attempt to escape, and finally, at the conqueror's bidding, should have laid down its arms without striking a blow, would before the event," says an English military authority, "have seemed impossible. It set the investing force free to crush the new-made Army of the Loire, and it occurred in the nick of time to prevent the raising of the siege of Paris, which the Germans had in contemplation."

Smaller places held out nobly, - Phalsbourg in Alsace, and Thionville and Toul, but above all Belfort. Garibaldi was there with a considerable body of Italians and a contingent of two hundred well-armed Greeks. There was great jealousy of Garibaldi and his Italians in the Southern army, and their outrageous conduct towards priests and churches set against them the women and the peasantry.

Belfort never surrendered. But the army under Bourbaki, called the Army of the East, nearly a hundred thousand strong, suffered horribly in the latter days of the struggle. It was not included in the armistice made at the close of January, 1871, between Bismarck and Jules Favre, for Favre was in total ignorance of its position. Bourbaki attempted suicide. His soldiers, shoeless, tentless, and unprovided with provisions, pushed into the defiles of the Jura in the depths of one of the coldest winters ever known in Europe, hoping to escape into Switzerland. Eighty thousand men made their way over the mountains; fifteen thousand were made prisoners. A few escaped to their homes. A correspondent who saw them after they reached safety, said, -

"In all of them, pinched features and a slouching gait told of gnawing hunger, while their hollow voices told of nights spent on snow and frozen ground. Some had tied bits of wood under their bare feet to keep them from the stones. For weeks none had washed, or changed their clothes. Their hands were black as Africans'. For three days neither food nor fodder had been served out to them, and before that they had only got one four-pound loaf among eight men."

While men were thus suffering in the mountains, an event of the greatest political importance was taking place at Versailles. On January 19, a week before the capitulation of Paris, the king of Prussia received a deputation from the German Reichstag, offering him the imperial crown of Germany.

The Federal States of the German Empire up to the close of the last century were three hundred and sixty; many of these were only free cities or extremely small duchies or principalities. There was a German emperor and a German Diet. The latter met always at Frankfort. The emperor might be of any family or of any religion. His successor was elected during his lifetime, to be ready in case of accident, and was called King of the Romans. The emperor was at first chosen by the princes at large, but in process of time the choice was made over to nine princes, called electors. After 1438, all emperors of Germany were of the house of Hapsburg, the royal family of Austria. This was not law, but custom. In the days of Napoleon I. the old German Empire was broken up. The title of Emperor of Germany was discontinued, though he who would have borne it still held an imperial title as Emperor of Austria. The small German princes were mediatized; that is, pensioned, and reduced from sovereign princes to the condition of mere nobles. In place of three hundred and sixty States there remained thirty-six States, composing the German Confederation. A new German Federal Constitution was formed; the States agreed to defend one another, to do nothing to injure one another, and to abstain from making war upon one another. There were practically seventeen votes in the Diet, some of the larger States having several, and many of the smaller States uniting in the possession of one.

This Constitution also was swept away in 1866, after the brilliant campaign of Sadowa.

The great desire of patriotic Germans was to consolidate Germany, - to make her strong; and while Prussia, assisted by all the North German States and by Bavaria, Baden, Wuertemberg, and Darmstadt, was fighting France, a new Federal, Constitution was formed.

The king of Prussia was chosen German emperor, and the imperial crown was to be hereditary in his family. There is a Diet, or Federal Congress, composed of two Houses, the Upper House being limited to sovereign princes or their representatives, the other, called the Reichstag, being really the governing power of the nation. Each State is entitled also to its own legislature.

In the Reichstag, Prussia has nearly two thirds of the votes; and its power is much greater than that of our Congress at Washington. The emperor can veto its decisions only when they affect changes in the constitution. The Diet can dethrone any emperor if he is considered incapable of governing, or supposed to be dangerous to the Fatherland.

Practically the power of Prussia seems boundless in the federation; she enforces her military system on all Germany, and the smaller States submit to her, for the sake of strength and unity.

On Jan. 18, 1871, a deputation of fifty members of the Reichstag came to the king of Prussia's headquarters at Versailles to implore him to accept the imperial crown of Germany. The world's attention was engrossed by the campaign which was then drawing to a close, and the offering of the imperial crown to the Prussian sovereign formed only a dramatic episode in the history of the war. Fortunately, as the deputies passed Paris, shivering in their furs, while transported in carriages of all descriptions, the Parisians made no sortie to intercept them, and they reached Versailles in safety.

The French seemed perfectly indifferent on the occasion. "Do as you like," seemed to be the feeling. "Have an empire if you think proper. It is no concern of ours. We are glad to have got rid of our own."

The day on which the deputies offered their great gift to King William was clear and bright. Before the prefecture at Versailles was planted the Prussian royal standard, - a black cross on a ground of gold and purple. Round the gateway stood all the Prussian soldiers who were off duty, waiting to see the deputies pass in. There was no music, but shots boomed from Paris from time to time. There was to be thenceforward one Germany, and one flag for the land of so many princes, who all waived their claims in favor of the greatest among them, - he who now stood conqueror in a foreign land.

The chief room of the prefecture was filled with men in bright uniforms, with helmets, ribbons, and decorations of all kinds. The king stood near the fireplace, surrounded by princes and generals. The president of the North German Confederation appointed to address him had once before, in 1849, offered the imperial crown to a Prussian king, who had declined it. Since then events had ripened. This time the king accepted what his countrymen desired he should receive from them. But he declined to assume the title of emperor until the South German people should express their acquiescence, as the South German princes had already done.

We may contrast the conduct of the Prussian king with the unwisdom of the French emperor. Both Napoleon III. and the Emperor William governed as autocrats; but with what different men they surrounded themselves, and how differently they were served in their hour of need! Yet Napoleon III. was lavish of rewards to his adherents, while the Emperor William was, to an excessive degree, chary of recompense. He seemed to feel that each man owed his all to his kaiser and his country, and that when he had given all, he could only say, in the words of Scripture: "I have but done that it was my duty to do."

When Jules Favre went to Versailles to negotiate with the German emperor and his chancellor for the surrender of Paris, he was accompanied, on his second and subsequent visits, by a young officer of ordnance, Count d'Herisson, who attended him as a sort of aide-de-camp. Nothing could be less alike than the two men: Jules Favre, of the upper middle class in life, deeply sorrowful, oppressed by his responsibility, and profoundly conscious of his situation; and the young man whose birth placed him in the ranks of the jeunesse doree, pleased to find himself in plenty and in good society, and allowing his spirits to rise with even more than national buoyancy, when, for a moment, the pressure of trouble was removed. D'Herisson published an account of his experience while at the Prussian headquarters, which gives so vivid a picture of Count Bismarck, the great chancellor of the German Empire, that I here venture to repeat some parts of his narrative. He says, -

"On January 23 I received a summons from Jules Favre. He seized me by both hands, and asked me to carry, early the next morning, a despatch to M. de Bismarck, and to get it into his hands before daybreak. No one was to know of this despatch except the German officer bearing a flag of truce, to whom I was to give it with my own hand. 'Then all is over?' I said to Jules Favre. 'Yes,' he answered, 'we have only bread enough for a few more days. God only knows what the people of Paris may do to us when we are forced to let them know the truth. We must do our best to guard against the disastrous consequences of their strong feeling of patriotism. The Government does not intend to rid itself of its responsibilities, but its first duty is to provide bread for the capital.'

"With some difficulty," continued d'Herisson, "I reached Sevres, and the next morning before daybreak gave Jules Favre's letter to the Prussian officer. I sent back an express to Jules Favre with the news, and then went to Baron Rothschild's desolated villa at Suresnes to wait the answer. Two hours later, came a message from the French officer commanding the nearest outpost to say that a flag of truce had brought word that M. de Bismarck would see M. Jules Favre, and that a carriage would be in waiting on the left bank of the Seine to take him to headquarters."

This knowledge of the negotiation at the French outposts was a disclosure that Jules Favre had desired to avoid.

"When I brought Jules Favre the news," continues d'Herisson, "he was greatly moved. His hands trembled so that he could hardly break the seal of the letter."

Seeing that news of what was passing would most certainly be brought in from the outposts, it seemed best that the French Minister for Foreign Affairs should start at once for the interview. There was in the courtyard a coupe with a handsome horse, once belonging to Napoleon III., and driven by one of his former coachmen. Jules Favre at once got into it, with his son-in-law and M. d'Herisson. They passed with some difficulty through the Bois de Boulogne, the roads having been torn up and trees felled in every direction. On reaching a French outpost Jules Favre, afraid of being recognized, concealed his face. Their only means of crossing the Seine at Sevres was to take a small boat which had served General Burnside a few days before. But the Prussians had been making a target of it ever since, and it was riddled with bullets. Having bailed it out, however, with an old saucepan, they stuffed their handkerchiefs into the worst leaks, and crossed the Seine in safety.

In a miserable old carriage, attended by a Prussian escort, Jules Favre was borne away to his terrible interview with Bismarck, leaving d'Herisson behind. Favre did not come back for many hours. His first words to his aide-de-camp were: "Oh, my dear fellow, I was wrong to go without you. What have I not suffered?"

He had been taken at once to a very modest house in Versailles, where Bismarck had his quarters. After the first salutations Jules Favre said that he came to renew the negotiations broken off at Ferrieres. Here Bismarck interrupted him, saying: "The situation is changed. If you are still going to say, 'Not an inch, not a stone,' as you did at Ferrieres, we may break off at once. My time is valuable, and yours too." Then suddenly he added: "Your hair has grown much grayer than it was at Ferrieres." Jules Favre replied that that was due to anxiety and the cares of government. The chancellor answered that the Government of Paris had put off a long time asking for peace, and that he had been on the eve of making an arrangement with an envoy from Napoleon III. He then explained that it would be easy for him to bring back the emperor and to force France to receive him; that Napoleon could collect an army of a hundred thousand men among the French prisoners of war in Germany, etc.; and he added: "After all, why should I treat with you? Why should I give your irregular Republic an appearance of legality by signing an armistice with its representative? What are you but rebels? Your emperor if he came back would have the right to shoot every one of you."

"But if he came back," cried Jules Favre, "all would be civil war and anarchy."

"Are you so sure of that?" said the chancellor. "Anyhow, a civil war in France could not affect Germany."

"But, M. le Comte, are you not afraid of reducing us to despair, of exasperating our resistance?"

"Your resistance!" cried Bismarck. "Are you proud of your resistance? If General Trochu were a German, I would have him shot this evening. You have no right, for the sake of mere military vainglory, to risk the lives of two millions of people. The railroad tracks have been torn up, and if we cannot lay them down again in two days, we know that a hundred thousand people in Paris will die of famine. Don't talk of resistance, it is criminal."

Jules Favre, put entirely out of countenance by Bismarck's tone, merely insisted that in pity to France there should be no question of subjecting her to the ignominy of being again made over to her deposed emperor. Before parting, Bismarck requested him to write down such conditions of peace as seemed to him reasonable, in order that they might discuss them the next day.[1]

[Footnote 1: My copy of d'Herisson's book has a pencil note at this place, written by a friend then at Versailles: "Bismarck rode after Jules Favre when he set out on his return, and thrust into his carriage an enormous sausage."]

When that day came, the chancellor, having had interviews with his sovereign and Von Moltke, submitted his own propositions. They were seven in number: -

I. An armistice for twenty-one days.

II. Disarmament of the French army, to remain in Paris as prisoners of war.

III. The soldiers to give up arms and banners; officers to keep their swords.

IV. The armistice to extend all over France.

V. Paris to pay indemnity, and give up its forts to the Prussians.

VI. The Germans not to enter Paris during the armistice.

VII. Elections to be held throughout France for a National Assembly charged to consider conditions of peace.

Some slight modifications were made in these hard terms, which were signed Jan. 28, 1871.

As aide-de-camp and secretary to the French minister, d'Herisson was present at all the interviews between Bismarck and his principal. When the terms, proposed by Germany were reported by Jules Favre to the Committee of Defence, they were thought less severe than had been feared.

The next morning Favre and d'Herisson were at Versailles by dawn. Bismarck, who was an early riser, soon appeared, and took the minister and his aide-de-camp to his study. There the two men talked, and the secretary took notes of the conversation.

Bismarck and Favre presented a great contrast. Bismarck was then fifty-five years of age; Jules Favre was six years older. Bismarck wore the uniform of a colonel of White Cuirassiers, - a white coat, a white cap, and yellow trimmings. He seemed like a colossus, with his square shoulders and his mighty strength. Jules Favre, on the contrary, was tall and thin, bowed down by a sense of his position, wearing a black frock-coat that had become too wide for him, with his white hair resting on its collar. He was especially urgent that the National Guard in Paris should retain its arms. He consented to the disarmament of the Mobiles and the army, but he said it would be impossible to disarm the National Guard. At length Bismarck yielded this point, but with superior sagacity remarked: "So be it. But believe me you are doing a foolish thing. Sooner or later you will be sorry you did not disarm those unquiet spirits. Their arms will be turned against you."

When the question was raised concerning the indemnity to be paid by Paris, Bismarck said, laughing, that Paris was so great a lady, it would be an indignity to ask of her less than a milliard of francs ($200,000,000). The ransom was finally settled at two hundred millions of francs ($40,000,000).

"The dinner-hour having arrived, the chancellor invited us," says d'Herisson, "to take seats at his table. Jules Favre, who wanted to write out carefully the notes I had taken, begged to have his dinner sent up to him; so I alone followed the chancellor to the dining-room, where about a dozen military and civil functionaries were assembled, but all were in uniform. The chancellor, who sat at the head of the table, placed me on his right. There was plenty of massive silver, belonging evidently to a travelling case. The only deficiency was in light, the table being illuminated by only two wax candles stuck in empty wine-bottles. This was the only evidence of a time of war."

As soon as the chancellor was seated, he began to eat with a good appetite, talking all the time, and drinking alternately beer and champagne from a great silver goblet marked with his initials. The conversation was in French. Suddenly the chancellor remembered having met M. d'Herisson eight years before at the Princess Mentzichoff's, and their relations became those of two gentlemen who recognize each other in good society.

The Parisians thought that d'Herisson had been far too lively on this occasion; but he feels sure that his sprightly talk and free participation in the good things of the table, formed a favorable contrast to the deep depression of Jules Favre at the same board the day before. "M. de Bismarck," he says, "is not at all like the conventional statesman. He is not solemn. He is very gay, and even when discussing the gravest questions often makes jokes, though under his playful sallies gleam the lion's claws."

They talked of hunting. The chancellor related anecdotes of his own prowess, and by the time they returned to Jules Favre, the French aide-de-camp and the Prussian prime minister were on the best terms with each other. But before long the chancellor gave a specimen of the violence of his displeasure. "Three times," says d'Herisson, "I saw him angry, - once a propos of Garibaldi; once when speaking of the resistance of St. Quentin, an unwalled town, which he said should have submitted at once; and once it was my own fault."

On the table stood a saucer with three choice cigars. The chancellor took it up and offered it to Jules Favre, who replied that he never smoked; "There you are wrong," said Bismarck; "when a conversation is about to take place which may lead to differences of opinion, it is better to smoke. The cigar between a man's lips, which he must not let fall, controls his physical impatience. It soothes him imperceptibly. He grows more conciliatory. He is more disposed to make concessions. And diplomacy is made up of reciprocal concessions. You who don't smoke have one advantage over me, - you are more on the alert. But I have an advantage over you, - you will be more likely than I shall be to lose your self control and give way to sudden impressions."

The negotiation was resumed very quietly. With astonishing frankness the chancellor said simply and plainly what he wanted. He went straight to his point, bewildering Jules Favre, a lawyer by profession, who was accustomed to diplomatic circumlocutions, and was not prepared for such imperious openness.

The chancellor spoke French admirably, "making use," says d'Herisson "of strong and choice expressions, and never seeming at a loss for a word." But when the subject of Garibaldi and his army came up, his eyes began to flash, and he seemed to curb himself with difficulty. "I intend," he said, "to leave him and his followers out of the armistice. He is not one of your own people. You can very well leave him to me. Our army opposed to him is about equal to his. Let them fight it out between them." Jules Favre replied that this was impossible; for though France had not asked Garibaldi for his services, and had in the first instance refused them, circumstances had made him general-in-chief of a large corps d'armee composed almost entirely of Frenchmen, and to abandon him would be indefensible. Then the anger of the chancellor blazed forth against Garibaldi. "I want to parade him through the streets of Berlin," he cried, "with a placard on his back: 'This is Gratitude!'"

Here d'Herisson interrupted his burst of anger by picking up the saucer from the table and holding it to his breast as beggars do at the church-doors. The chancellor caught his idea after a moment. He laughed, and Garibaldi, with his corps d'armee, was included in the armistice.

It was necessary, however, that a French general should come out to Versailles the next day and confer with Count von Moltke with regard to some military details. The old general who was chosen for that service was furious at the appointment, and behaved with such rudeness that Bismarck requested that a man more courteous might replace him.

In the course of the conversation Bismarck, who was always breaking off upon side topics, replied to an observation made by Jules Favre about the love of France for a republic, by saying: "Are you so sure of that? - for I don't think so. Before treating with you, we naturally made it our business to obtain good information as to the state of public feeling in your country; and notwithstanding this unhappy war, which was forced by France upon Napoleon III., and notwithstanding the disasters of your armies, nothing would be easier, believe me, than to re-establish the emperor. I will not say that his restoration would have been hailed by acclamations in Paris, but it would have been submitted to by the country. A plebiscite would have done the rest."

Jules Favre protested. "Oh, you will become more inclined to monarchy as you grow older," cried the chancellor. "Look at me. I began my public life by being a liberal; and now, by force of reason, by the teachings of experience, and by an increased knowledge of mankind, I have learned, loving my country, wishing her good and her greatness, to become a conservative, - an upholder of authority. My emperor converted me. My gratitude to him, my respectful affection, date from the far-off time when he alone supported me. If I am to-day the man you see me, if I have rendered any service to my country, I owe it all, as I am pleased to acknowledge, to the emperor."

That night, as Jules Favre was returning to Paris to obtain from his colleagues the ratification of the armistice, Bismarck proposed that firing should cease at midnight. Jules Favre assented, but asked as a courtesy that Paris might fire the last shot.

That night the terms of capitulation were signed by all the members of the Committee of Defence. It is strange how the baptismal name of Jules predominated among them, - Jules Favre, Jules Ferry, Jules Simon, Jules Trochu. Trochu, however, did not sign, having resigned his post that he might not be called upon to do so.

A few changes in the articles as at first drawn up were made. The Prussians did not insist, as Bismarck had done at first, that the cannon in the bastions should be hurled down, and regiments were permitted to retain their colors, though Von Moltke objected strongly to such concessions. They were granted, however, by the emperor, when the matter was referred to him, but in words more insulting than a refusal. "Tell the envoy of the French Government," he said, "that we have trophies enough and standards enough taken from French armies, and have no need of those of the army of Paris."

Then, the capitulation being signed, the armistice began. General elections were at once held all over France, and the National Assembly met at Bordeaux. A Provisional Government, with M. Thiers at its head, was appointed, and peace was concluded. Alsace and Lorraine were given up to Germany, with the exception of the stronghold of Belfort, which had never surrendered. The German army was to enter Paris, but to go no farther than the Place de la Concorde; and besides the two hundred millions of francs exacted from Paris, France was to pay five milliards, that is, five thousand millions, of francs, as a war indemnity, - a thousand millions of dollars. Germany was to retain certain forts in France, and her troops in them were to be rationed by the French until this money was paid.

It was paid in an incredibly short time, chiefly by the help of the great Jewish banking-houses; and the last of the Germans retired to their own soil in September, 1872.

But on March 13, 1871, the German army around Paris, after remaining a few hours in the capital, marched away towards home.

The Assembly at Bordeaux proceeded at once to transfer itself to the late Prussian headquarters at Versailles; but on March 18 a great rising, called the Commune, broke out in Paris, which lasted rather more than nine weeks, with a continued succession of horrors.