The Memoirs of Victor Hugo by Victor Hugo (best memoirs of all time txt) 📕
The horizon, however, grows dark, and from 1846 the new peer ofFrance notes the gradual tottering of the edifice of royalty.The revolution of 1848 bursts out. Nothing could be morethrilling than the account, hour by hour, of the events of thethree days of February. VICTOR HUGO is not merely a spectatorof this great drama, he is an actor in it. He is in thestreets, he makes speeches to the people, he seeks to restrainthem; he believes, with too good reason, that the Republic ispremature, and, in the Place de la Bastille, before theevolutionary Faubourg Saint Antoine, he dares to proclaim theRegency.
Four months later distress provokes the formidable insurrectionof June, which is fatal to the Republic.
The year 1848 is the stormy year. The atmosphere is fiery, menare violent, events are tragical. Battles in the streets arefollowed by fierce debates in the Assembly. VICTOR HUGO takespart in the mêlée. We witness the scenes with him; he p
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We had elephant steak for luncheon to-day.
Schoelcher, Rochefort, Blum and all the usual Thursday guests dined with us. After dinner Louis Blanc and Pelletan dropped in.
January 13.—An egg costs 2 francs 75 centimes. Elephant meat costs 40 francs a pound. A sack of onions costs 800 francs.
The Soci�t� des Gens de Lettres asked me to attend the presentation of the cannon to the city at the Hotel de Ville. I begged to be excused. I will not go.
We spent the day looking for another hotel. Could not find one suitable. All are closed. Expenses for the week at the Pavilion de Rohan (including the cost of a broken window-pane), 701 francs 50 centimes.
Remark by a poor woman anent some newly felled wood:
“This hapless green wood is under fire; it didn’t expect that it would have to face it, and weeps all the time!”
January 15.—A furious bombardment is in progress.
I have written a piece of poetry entitled “Dans le Cirque.” After dinner I read it to my Sunday guests. They want me to publish it. I will give it to the newspapers.
January 17.—The bombardment has been going on for three nights and three days without cessation.
Little Jeanne was cross with me because I would not let her play with the works of my watch.
All the newspapers publish my verses “Dans le Cirque.” They may be useful.
Louis Blanc called this morning. He urged me to join with Quinet and himself in bringing pressure to bear upon the Government. I replied: “I see more danger in overturning the Government than in supporting it.”
January 18.—M. Krupp is making cannon for use specially against balloons.
There is a cock in my little garden. Yesterday Louis Blanc lunched with us. The cock crowed. Louis Blanc paused and said:
“Listen!”
“What is it?”
“A cock is crowing.”
“Well, what of it?”
“Don’t you hear what it says?”
“It is calling: ‘Victor Hugo!’”
We listened and laughed. Louis Blanc was right It did sound as if the cock were crowing my name.
I gave some of my bread-crumbs to the fowls. They would not eat them.
This morning a sortie against Montretout was made. Montretout was taken. This evening the Prussians captured it from us again.
January 20.—The attack on Montretout has interrupted the bombardment.
A child of fourteen years was suffocated in a crowd outside a baker’s shop.
January 21.—Louis Blanc came to see me. We held a council. The situation is becoming extreme and supreme. The Mairie of Paris asks my advice.
Louis Blanc dined with us. After dinner we held a sort of council at which Colonel Laussedat was present.
January 22.—The Prussians are bombarding Saint Denis.
Tumultuous demonstrations at the Hotel de Ville. Trochu is withdrawing. Rostan comes to tell me that the Breton mobiles are firing on the people. I doubt it. I will go myself, if necessary.
I have just returned. There was a simultaneous attack by both sides. To the combatants who consulted me I said: “I recognise in the hands of Frenchmen only those rifles which are turned towards the Prussians.”
Rostan said to me:
“I have come to place my battalion at your service. We are five hundred men. Where do you want us to go?”
“Where are you now?” I asked.
“We have been massed towards Saint Denis, which is being bombarded,” he replied. “We are at La Villette.”
“Then stay there,” said I. “It is there where I should have sent you. Do not march against the Hotel de Ville, march against Prussia.”
January 23.—Last night there was a conference at my quarters. In addition to my Sunday guests Rochefort and his secretary, Mourot, had dined with us. Rey and Gambon came in the evening. They brought me, the former with a request that I would subscribe to it, Ledru-Rollin’s poster-programme (group of 200 members), and the latter, the programme of the Republican Union (50 members). I declared that I approved of neither the one nor the other.
Chanzy has been beaten. Bourbaki has succeeded. But he is not marching on Paris. Enigma, of which I fancy I can half guess the secret.
There appears to be an interruption to the bombardment.
January 24.—Flourens called this morning. He asked for my advice. I responded: “No violent pressure on the situation.”
January 25.—Flourens is reported to have been arrested as he was leaving the house after his visit to me.
I had a couple of fresh eggs cooked for Georges and Jeanne.
M. Dorian came to the Pavilion de Rohan this morning to see my sons. He announced that capitulation is imminent. Frightful news from outside. Chanzy defeated, Faidherbe defeated, Bourbaki driven back.
January 27.—Schoelcher came to tell me that he has resigned as colonel of the artillery legion.
Again they came to ask me to head a demonstration against the Hotel de Ville. All sorts of rumours are in circulation. To everybody I counsel calmness and unity.
January 28.—Bismarck in the course of the pourparlers at Versailles said to Jules Favre: “What do you think of that goose of an Empress proposing peace to me!”
It has become cold again.
Ledru-Rollin (through Brives) says he wants to come to an understanding with me.
Little Jeanne is unwell. Sweet little thing!
Leopold told me this evening that I was the subject of a dialogue between Pope Pius IX. and Jules Hugo, my nephew, brother of Leopold, who died a camerico of the Pope. The Pope, on seeing Jules, said to him:
“You name is Hugo, is it not?”
“Yes, Holy Father.”
“Are you a relative of Victor Hugo?”
“His nephew, Holy Father.”
“How old is he?” (It was in 1857.)
“Fifty-five years.”
“Alas! he is too old to return to the Church!”
Charles tells me that Jules Simon and his two sons passed the night drawing up lists of possible candidates for the National Assembly.
Cernuschi is having himself naturalized a French citizen!
January 29.—The armistice was signed yesterday. It was published this morning. The National Assembly will be elected between February 5 and 18. Will meet on the 12th at Bordeaux.
Little Jeanne is a trifle better. She almost smiled at me.
No more balloons. The post. But unsealed letters. It snows. It freezes.
January 30.—Little Jeanne is still poorly and does not play.
Mlle. P�riga brought me a fresh egg for Jeanne.
January 31.—Little Jeanne is still ill. She is suffering from a slight attack of catarrh of the stomach. Doctor Allix says it will last for another four or five days.
My nephew Leopold came to dine with us. He brought us some pickled oysters.
February 1.—Little Jeanne is better. She smiled at me.
February 2.—The Paris elections have been postponed to February 8.
Horsemeat continues to disagree with me. Pains in the stomach. Yesterday I said to Mme. Ernest Lef�vre, who was dining beside me:
De ces bons animaux la viande me fait mal. J’aime tant les chevaux que je hais le cheval.
February 4.—The weather is becoming milder.
A crowd of visitors this evening. Proclamation by Gambetta.
February 5.—The list of candidates of the Republican journals appeared this morning. I am at the head of the list.
Bancal is dead.
Little Jeanne this evening has recovered from her cold.
I entertained my usual Sunday guests. We had fish, butter and white bread for dinner.
February 6.—Bourbaki, defeated, has killed himself. A grand death.
Ledru-Rollin is drawing back from the Assembly. Louis Blanc came and read this news to me tonight.
February 7.—We had three or four cans of preserves which we ate to-day.
February 8.—To-day, elections for the National Assembly. Paul Meurice and I went to vote together in the Rue Clauzel.
After the capitulation had been signed, Bismarck, on leaving Jules Favre, entered the room where his two secretaries were awaiting him and said: “The beast is dead.”
I have put my papers in order in anticipation of my departure.
Little Jeanne is very merry.
February 11.—The counting of the votes progresses very slowly.
Our departure for Bordeaux has been put off to Monday the 13th.
February 12.—Yesterday, for the first time, I saw my boulevard. It is a rather large section of the old Boulevard Haussmann. “Boulevard Victor Hugo” is placarded on the Boulevard Haussmann at four or five street corners giving on to this boulevard.
The National Assembly opens to-day at Bordeaux. The result of the elections in Paris has not yet been determined and proclaimed.
While I have not yet been appointed, time presses, and I expect to leave for Bordeaux tomorrow. There will be nine of us, five masters and four servants, plus the two children. Louis Blanc wants to leave with us. We shall make the journey together.
In my hand-bag I shall take various important manuscripts and works that I have begun, among others, Paris Besieged and the poem “Grand P�re.”
February 13.—Yesterday, before dinner, I read to my guests, M. and Mme. Paul Meurice, Vacquerie, Lockroy, M. and Mme. Ernest Lefevre, Louis Koch and Vilain (Rochefort and Victor did not arrive until the dinner hour), two pieces of poetry which will form part of Paris Besieged (“To Little Jeanne,” and “No, You will not Take Alsace and Lorraine”).
Pelleport brought me our nine passes. Not having yet been proclaimed a Representative, I wrote on mine: “Victor Hugo, proprietor,” as the Prussians require that the quality or profession of the holder of the pass be stated.
It was with a heavy heart that I quitted this morning the Avenue Frochot and the sweet hospitality that Paul Meurice had extended to me since my arrival in Paris on September 5.
THE ASSEMBLY AT BORDEAUX.
EXTRACTS FROM NOTEBOOKS.
THE ASSEMBLY AT BORDEAUX.
February 14.—Left yesterday at 12.10 P.M. Arrived at Etampes at 3.15. Wait of two hours, and luncheon.
After lunch we returned to our drawing-room car. A crowd surrounded it, kept back by a squad of Prussian soldiers. The crowd recognised me and shouted “Long live Victor Hugo!” I waved my hand out of window, and doffing my cap, shouted: “Long live France!” Whereupon a man with a white moustache, who somebody said was the Prussian commandant of Etampes, advanced towards me with a threatening air and said something to me in German that he no doubt intended to be terrible. Gazing steadily in turn at this Prussian and the crowd, I repeated in a louder voice: “Long live France’!” Thereat all the people shouted enthusiastically: “Long live France!” The fellow looked angry but said nothing. The Prussian soldiers did not move.
The journey was a rough, long and weary one. The drawing-room car was badly lighted and not heated. One feels the dilapidation of France in this wretched railway accommodation. At Vierzon we bought a pheasant, a chicken, and two bottles of wine for supper. Then we wrapped ourselves up in our rugs and cloaks and slept on the seats.
We arrived at Bordeaux at 1.30 this afternoon. We went in search of lodgings. We took a cab and drove from hotel to hotel. No room anywhere. I went to the Hotel de Ville and asked for information. I was told that there was an apartment to let at M. A. Porte’s, 13, Rue Saint Maur, near the public garden. We went there. Charles hired the apartment for 600 francs a month and paid half a month’s rent in advance. Then we started out in search of a lodging for us, but could not get one. At 7 o’clock we returned to the station to fetch our trunks, and not knowing where we should pass the night. We went back to the Rue Saint Maur,
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