A Girl of the Commune by G. A. Henty (read book TXT) 📕

"Perhaps so, Clement, but then you see it would never occur to me to marry a tragedienne. I should imagine that she would ask for the salt in the same tone that she would demand poison. I grant it was acting, but there was a terrific truth about it that showed that she was at least able to picture the position and feel it. I tried to sketch her, but I gave it up as hopeless. It was beyond me altogether. I observed that all the others failed, too, except Cuthbert here. He dashed it off in his note-book, and if he ever paints it, I would not have it hung up in my bedroom for a thousand francs, for I should never dare to go to sleep with it looking at me. But, indeed, of late, Minette has changed a good deal; the little fool is carried away by all this talk up at Belleville, and takes it quite seriously. You remember she has refused our last three invitations, and she said quite superbly when I asked her the last time, 'This is no time for feasting and enjoyment, M. René, when Paris is besieged and thousands are starving.'"

"Then I don't know where they are," Pierre said. "Belleville was never so well off as it is to-day; every man gets a franc and a half a day for wearing a kepi and going for a few hours once a week on duty on the wall. His wife gets something, and they have so much for each child. They have no work to do, and I am told that, although six francs a day are offered by the Government for laborers, they cannot get enough men. The fellows enjoy smoking, lounging, talking, and doing nothing too much to be tempted by any offer. There may be starvation before we have done; but at any rate there is none at present, for every man, woman, and child draws their ration of meat, not a large one, but enough to get on with; beside bread is not very dear, and there is no lack of vegetables, brought in every day from beyond the forts."

"I said as much to Minette, Pierre, but she only muttered that working-men would not always exist on charity, and the time would come when there would be plenty for all. We shall have trouble with them before we have done I expect, what do you think, Henri?"

The lieutenant took his pipe out of his mouth and nodded[Pg 128].

"There will be trouble," he said. "I have been up to Belleville several times. This spell of idleness is doing much harm. As soon as we have done with the Prussians we shall have the reds on our hands."

"We are seven to one against them," René said, contemptuously. "The voting the other day showed that."

"Ah, but the seventh know what they want. They want to be masters. They want money enough to keep them without work. They want to set the streets flowing with blood. The other six only want to be left alone. They have no idea of risking their lives, and you will see, when it begins, they will hold the butts of their muskets up; they will say, 'Don't let us irritate these demons,' and each man will hope that, even if others are robbed, he will somehow escape.

"You cannot rely on the National Guard, it is no use to count them in, and the mobiles only want to be off to their villages. If the troops had a leader they might fight, but who is to lead them? Trochu is an imbecile, the real fighting army is in the prisons of Germany, and when it is released will not care to embark in another war. I think things look bad."

"What should we do?" Pierre asked.

"We should paint," Henri said, "that is to say we should paint if things go as I think they will, and the National Guard refuse to fight. If the men who have something to lose won't lift an arm to defend it, why should we who have nothing at stake?"

"You might paint, but who is going to buy your pictures, Henri?" Cuthbert said, quietly. "As soon as the reds get the upper hand we shall have the guillotine at work, and the first heads to fall will be those of your best customers. You don't suppose the ruffians of Belleville are going to become patrons of art. For my part I would rather fight against the savages than level my rifle against the honest German lads who are led here against us. I should think no more of shooting one of these roughs than of killing a tiger—indeed, I regard the tiger as the more honest beast of the two. Still, if you Frenchmen like to be ruled over by King Mob, it is no business of mine.[Pg 129] Thank God, such a thing is never likely to happen in England—at any rate in my time. In the first place, we can trust our troops, and in the second, we could trust ourselves. Were there not a soldier in the land, such a thing will never happen. Our workmen have sense enough to know that a mob-rule would be ruin to them as well as to the rich, and, were it needed, in twenty-four hours half a million men could be sworn in as constables, and these would sweep the rabble into the Thames."

"Your rabble would be unarmed; ours have at present all got muskets."

"More fools they who gave them to them, but what can one expect from such a Government. There is not among them a single practical man except Gambetta, and he is away at Tours. It is a Government of lawyers and spouters; of words they give us plenty, of government nothing. I would rather, infinitely rather, that the women at the Halles should chose a dozen of the most capable women among them and establish them as the Government. I will guarantee you would see a change for the better before twenty-four hours were over. I doubt if you could see a change for the worse. Jules Fauvre with his ridiculous phrase, not one foot of our territory, not one stone of our fortresses, is no better than a mountebank, and the others are as bad. Would that either Ducrot or Vinoy had the firmness and half the talent of a Napoleon. They would march the troops in, sweep away this gathering of imbeciles, establish martial law, disarm Belleville and Montmartre, shoot Floureus, Pyat, Blanqui, and a hundred of the most noxious of these vermin; forbid all assemblages, turn the National Guards into soldiers, and after rendering Paris impotent for mischief turn their attention to the Germans. The one thing that can save Paris to my mind is a military dictator, but I see no sign of such a man being forthcoming."

"Bravo! bravo!" several of the students shouted, "what a pity it is that you are an Englishman, Cuthbert. You would be just the man for us otherwise."

"At any rate, I should do something and not let everything drift," Cuthbert retorted, joining in the laugh at his own un[Pg 130]accustomed vehemence; "but there, we have broken our agreement, now let us revert to art;" but the effort was vain, the talk soon drifted back again to the siege, and many were the conjectures as to what Trochu's famous plan could be and which point offered the most hopeful chance for the army to pierce the German cordon.

Mary Brander had a fortnight before enrolling herself among the nurses at the American ambulance, which was doing admirable work, and was admitted by the French themselves to be a model which could be followed with great advantage in their own hospitals. Here everything was neat, clean, and well arranged. The wounded were lodged in tents which were well ventilated and yet warm. The surgeons and some of the nurses were also under canvas, while others, among whom was Mary Brander, went back to their homes when their turn of duty was over. They had, like the ladies who worked in the French hospitals, adopted a sort of uniform and wore the white badge with the red cross on their arms. With this they could go unquestioned, and free from impertinent remarks through the thickest crowds, everyone making way for them with respectful civility.

"It is terrible," she said to Cuthbert, upon his calling one evening when she was off duty, "and yet I do not feel it so trying as listening to the silly talk and seeing the follies of the people in the streets. The poor fellows bear their sufferings so patiently, they are so grateful for every little thing done for them, that one cannot but feel how much there is likable among the French in spite of their follies. I talk to them a good deal and it is almost always about their homes and their families, especially their mothers. Sometimes it is their sweethearts or their sisters. With mobiles and linesmen it is just the same. Sometimes I write letters for them—such simple, touching letters as they are, it is difficult not to cry as they dictate, what are, in many cases, last farewells. They always want those at home to know that they have died doing their duty, but beyond that they don't say much of themselves. It is of those to whom they are writing that they think. They tell them to cheer up.[Pg 131] They bid younger brothers take their place. Besides the letters which will be photographed and sent off by pigeon post, I have a pile of little packets to be despatched when Paris is open—locks of hair, photographs, Bibles, and keepsakes of all kinds."

"I think at any rate, Mary, you have at present discovered one branch at least of woman's mission upon which we cannot quarrel. We grant not only your equality but your superiority to us as nurses."

Mary Brander smiled faintly, but ignored the opening for argument.

"Some of them are dreadfully wounded," she went on, her thoughts reverting to the hospital. "It is terrible to think that when the great battle everyone seems looking forward to takes place, there may be thousands of wounded to be cared for. When do you think it will be?"

"Soon; of course no one can say when, but I don't see anything to gain from waiting longer. The mobiles are as good as they are likely to be made. One can't call the line disciplined, according to the English ideas of discipline, but they are better than they were, and at any rate all are anxious for something to be done."

"Do you think they will get through?"

He shook his head.

"If they could fall suddenly upon the Germans they might do so, but it is no easy matter to move large bodies of men quickly, and to be successful they ought to be able to hurl themselves against the Germans before they have time to concentrate. I have no doubt whichever side we issue out on, we shall get on fairly enough as long as we have the assistance of the guns of the forts; but beyond that I don't think we shall get. The Germans must by this time know the country vastly better than we do. They are immensely better trained in making extensive movements. They have excellent generals and good officers. I fancy it will be the same thing that it has been before. We shall make an advance, we shall push the enemy back for a bit, we shall occupy positions, and the next day the Germans will retake them. We have no method and no commissariat. Even[Pg 132] now bodies of troops are outside the walls frequently four-and-twenty hours without food. In the confusion consequent on a battle matters will be ten times worse. In the morning the troops will be half-starved and half-frozen, and there will be very little fight left in them."

"What would you do if you were commander-in-chief, Cuthbert?"

"I am altogether unfit to make a plan, and still more unfit to carry it out," he said, "but my idea would certainly be to attack somewhere with half my force, to force the enemy back, and to hold positions at the end of the day, so that the Germans would concentrate to attack in the morning. At night I would withdraw the greater portion of them, march them straight across Paris; the other half of the army would attack there at daybreak, and would be reinforced soon after the fighting began by those who had fought the day before. I think in that way they ought to be able to cut their way