The first month of Louis Bonaparte’s presidency is drawing to a close. This is how we stand at present:
Old-time Bonapartists are cropping up. MM. Jules Favre, Billault and Carteret are paying court—politically Speaking—to the Princess Mathilde Demidoff. The Duchess d’Orleans is residing with her two children in a little house at Ems, where she lives modestly yet royally. All the ideas of February are brought up one after the other; 1849, disappointed, is turning its back on 1848. The generals want amnesty, the wise want disarmament. The Constituent Assembly’s term is expiring and the Assembly is in savage mood in consequence. M. Guizot is publishing his book On Democracy in France. Louis Philippe is in London, Pius IX. is at Gaete, M. Barrot is in power; the bourgeoisie has lost Paris, Catholicism has lost Rome. The sky is rainy and gloomy, with a ray of sunshine now and then. Mlle. Ozy shows herself quite naked in the role of Eve at the Porte Saint Martin; Fréderick Lemaitre is playing “L’Auberge des Adrets” there. Five per cents are at 74, potatoes cost 8 cents the bushel, at the market a pike can be bought for 20 sous. M. Ledru-Rollin is trying to force the country into war, M. Prudhon is trying to force it into bankruptcy. General Cavaignac takes part in the sessions of the Assembly in a grey waist-coat, and passes his time gazing at the women in the galleries through big ivory opera-glasses. M. de Lamartine gets 25,000 francs for his “Toussaint L’Ouverture.” Louis Bonaparte gives grand dinners to M. Thiers, who had him captured, and to M. Mole, who had him condemned. Vienna, Milan, and Berlin are becoming calmer. Revolutionary fires are paling and seem to be dying out everywhere on the surface, but the peoples are still deeply stirred. The King of Prussia is getting ready to seize his sceptre again and the Emperor of Russia to draw his sword. There has been an earthquake at Havre, the cholera is at Fécamp; Arnal is leaving the Gymnase, and the Academy is nominating the Duke de Noailles as Chateaubriand’s successor.
At Odilon Barrot’s ball on January 28 M. Thiers went up to M. Leon Faucher and said: “Make So-and-So a prefect.” M. Leon Faucher made a grimace, which is an easy thing for him to do, and said: “Monsieur Thiers, there are objections.” “That’s funny!” retorted Thiers, “it is precisely the answer the President of the Republic gave to me the day I said: ‘Make M. Faucher a Minister!’”
At this ball it was remarked that Louis Bonaparte sought Berryer’s company, attached himself to him and led him into quiet corners. The Prince looked as though he were following Berryer, and Berryer as though he were trying to avoid the Prince.
At 11 o’clock the President said to Berryer: “Come with me to the Opera.”
Berryer excused himself. “Prince,” said he, “it would give rise to gossip. People would believe I am engaged in a love affair!”
“Pish!” replied Louis Bonaparte laughingly, “Representatives are inviolable!”
The Prince went away alone, and the following quatrain was circulated:
Although he is animated with the best intentions in the world and has a very visible quantity of intelligence and aptitude, I fear that Louis Bonaparte will find his task too much for him. To him, France, the century, the new spirit, the instincts peculiar to the soil and the period are so many closed books. He looks without understanding them at minds that are working, Paris, events, men, things and ideas. He belongs to that class of ignorant persons who are called princes and to that category of foreigners who are called êmigrês. To those who examine him closely he has the air of a patient rather than of a governing man.
There is nothing of the Bonapartes about him, either in his face or manner. He probably is not a Bonaparte. The free and easy ways of Queen Hortense are remembered. “He is a memento of Holland!” said Alexis de Saint Priest to me yesterday. Louis Bonaparte certainly possesses the cold manner of the Dutch.
Louis Bonaparte knows so little about Paris that the first time I saw him he said to me:
“I have been hunting for you. I went to your former residence. What is this Place des Vosges?”
“It is the Place Royale,” I said.
“Ah!” he continued, “is it an old place?”
He wanted to see Beranger. He went to Passy twice without being able to find him at home. His cousin Napoleon timed his visit more happily and found Béranger by his fireside. He asked him:
“What do you advise my cousin to do?”
“To observe the Constitution.”
“And what ought he to avoid?”
“Violating the Constitution.”
Béranger could not be induced to say anything else.
Yesterday, December 5, 1850, I was at the Français. Rachel played “Adrienne Lecouvreur.” Jerome Bonaparte occupied a box next to mine. During an entr’acte I paid him a visit. We chatted. He said to me:
“Louis is mad. He is suspicious of his friends and delivers himself into the hands of his enemies. He is suspicious of his family and allows himself to be bound hand and foot by the old Royalist parties. On my return to France I was better received by Louis Philippe at the Tuileries than I am at the Elysee by my nephew. I said to him the other day before one of his ministers (Fould): ‘Just remember a little! When you were a candidate for the presidency, Monsieur here (I pointed to Fould) called upon me in the Rue d’Alger, where I lived, and begged me in the name of MM. Thiers, Mole, Duvergier de Hauranne, Berryer, and Bugeaud to enter the lists for the presidency. He told me that never would you get the “Constitutionnel;” that in Mole’s opinion you were an idiot, and that Thiers looked upon you as a blockhead; that I alone could rally everybody to me and win against Cavaignac. I refused. I told them that you represented youth and the future, that you had a quarter of a century before you, whereas I could hardly count upon eight or ten years; that I was an invalid and wanted to be let alone. That is what these people were doing and that is what I did. And you forget all this! And you make these gentlemen the masters! And you show the door to your cousin, my son, who defended you in the Assembly and devoted himself to furthering your candidacy! And you are strangling universal suffrage, which made you what you are! I’ faith I shall say like Mole that you are an idiot, and like Thiers that you are a blockhead!’”
The King of Westphalia paused for a moment, then continued:
“And do you know, Monsieur Victor Hugo, what he replied to me? ‘You will see!’ No one knows what is at the bottom of that man!”
BRUSSELS, September 1.—Charles* leaves this morning with MM. Claretie, Proust, and Frédérix for Virton. Fighting is going on near there, at Carignan. They will see what they can of the battle. They will return tomorrow.
September 2.—Charles and his friends did not return to-day.
September 3.—Yesterday, after the decisive battle had been lost, Louis Napoleon, who was taken prisoner at Sedan, surrendered his sword to the King of Prussia. Just a month ago, on August 2, at Sarrebrück, he was playing at war.
To save France now would be to save Europe.
Shouting newsboys pass, with enormous posters on which are the words: “Napoleon III. a Prisoner.”
5 o’clock.—Charles and our friends have returned.
9 o’clock.—Meeting of exiles at which Charles and I are present.
Query: Tricolour flag or red flag?
September 4.—The deposition of the Emperor is proclaimed in Paris.
At 1 o’clock a meeting of exiles is held at my house.
At 3 o’clock I receive a telegram from Paris couched in the following terms: “Bring the children with you.” Which means “Come.”
MM. Claretie and Proust dined with us.
During the dinner a telegram signed “François Hugo” arrived, announcing that a provisional government had been formed: Jules Favre, Gambetta, Thiers.
September 5.—At 6 o’clock in the morning a telegram signed “Barbieux,” and asking the hour of my arrival in Paris, is brought to me. I instruct Charles to answer that I shall arrive at 9 o’clock at night. We shall take the children with us. We shall leave by the 2.35 o’clock train.
The Provisional Government (according to the newspapers) is made up of all the Deputies of Paris, with the exception of Thiers.
At noon, as I was about to leave Brussels for Paris, a young man, a Frenchman, accosted me in the Place de la Monnaie and said:
Monsieur, they tell me that you are Victor Hugo.”
“Yes.”
“Be so kind as to enlighten me. I would like to know whether it is prudent to go to Paris at present.”
“Monsieur, it is very imprudent, but you should go,” was my reply.
We entered France at 4 o’clock.
At Tergnier, at 6.30, we dined upon a piece of bread, a little cheese, a pear and a glass of wine. Claretie insisted upon paying, and said: “I want particularly to give you a dinner on the day of your return to France.”
En route I saw in the woods a camp of French soldiers, men and horses mingled. I shouted to them: “Long live the army!” and I wept.
At frequent intervals we came across train-loads of soldiers on their way to Paris. Twenty-five of these passed during the day. As one of them went by we gave to the soldiers all the provisions we had, some bread, fruit and wine. The sun shone brightly and was succeeded by a bright moon.
We arrived in Paris at 9.35 o’clock. An immense crowd awaited me. It was an indescribable welcome. I spoke four times, once from the balcony of a café and thrice from my carriage.
When I took leave of this ever-growing crowd, which escorted me to Paul Meurice’s, in the Avenue Frochot, I said to the people: “In one hour you repay me for twenty years of exile.”
They sang the “Marseillaise” and the “Chant du Depart.”
They shouted: “Long live Victor Hugo!”
The journey from the Northern Railway station to the Rue Laval took two hours.
We arrived at Meurice’s, where I am to stay, at mid-night. I dined with my travelling companions and Victor. I went to bed at 2 o’clock.
At daybreak I was awakened by a terrible storm. Thunder and lightning.
I shall take breakfast with Paul Meurice, and we shall dine together at the Hotel Navarin, in the Rue Navarin, where my family is staying.
PARIS, September 6.—Innumerable visits, innumerable letters.
Rey came to ask me whether I would consent to join a triumvirate composed as follows: Victor Hugo, Ledru-Rollin, and Schoelcher. I refused. I said: “It is almost impossible to amalgamate me.”
I recalled several things to his mind. He said: “Do you remember that it was I who received you when you arrived at the Baudin barricade?” * I replied: “I remember the fact so well that—. And I recited the lines at the beginning of the piece (unpublished) upon the Baudin barricade:
He burst into tears.
September 7.—Louis Blanc, d’Alton-Shée, Banville and others came to see me.
The women of the Markets brought me a bouquet.
September 8.—I am warned that it is proposed to assassinate me. I shrug my shoulders.
This morning I wrote my “Letter to the Germans.” It will be sent tomorrow.
Visit from General Cluseret.
At 10 o’clock I went to the office of the Rappel to correct the proofs of my “Letter to the Germans.”
September 9.—Received a visit from General Montfort. The generals are asking me for commands, I am being asked to grant audiences, office-seekers are asking me for places. I reply: “I am nobody.”
I saw Captain Feval, husband of Fanny, the sister of Alice. * He was a prisoner of war, and was released on parole.
All the newspapers publish my “Appeal to the Germans.”
September 10.—D’Alton-Shée and Louis Ulbach lunched with us. Afterwards we went to the Place de la Concorde. At the foot of the flower-crowned statue of Strasburg is a register. Everybody comes to sign the resolution of public thanks. I inscribed my name. The crowd at once surrounded me. The ovation of the other night was about to recommence. I hurried to my carriage.
Among the persons who called upon me was Cernuschi.
September 11.—Received a visit from Mr. Wickham Hoffman, Secretary of the United States Legation. Mr. Washburne, the American Minister, had requested him to ask me whether I did not think that some good might result were he to intervene *officiously* and see the King of Prussia. I sent him to Jules Favre.
September 12.—Among other callers was Frédérick Lemaître.
September 13.—To-day there is a review of the army of Paris. I am alone in my chamber. The battalions march through the streets singing the “Marseillaise” and the “Chant du Depart.” I hear this immense shout:
I listen and I weep. On, valiant ones! I will go where you go.
Receive a visit from the United States Consul-General and Mr. Wickham Hoffman.
Julie* writes me from Guernsey that the acorn I planted on July 14 has sprouted. The oak of the United States of Europe issued from the ground on September 5, the day of my return to Paris.
September 14.—I received a visit from the committee of the Société des Gens de Lettres, which wants me to be its president; from M. Jules Simon, Minister of Public Instruction; from Colonel Piré, who commands a corps of volunteers, etc.
September 16.—One year ago to-day I opened the Peace Congress at Lausanne. This morning I wrote the “Appeal to Frenchmen” for a war to the bitter end against the invasion.
On going out I perceived hovering over Montmartre the captive balloon from which a watch is to be kept upon the besiegers.
September 17.—All the forests around Paris are burning. Charles made a trip to the fortifications and is perfectly satisfied with them. I deposited at the office of the Rappel 2,088 francs 30 centimes, subscribed in Guernsey for the wounded and sent by M. H. Tupper, the French Consul.
At the same time I deposited at the “Rappel” office a bracelet and earrings of gold, sent anonymously for the wounded by a woman. Accompanying the trinkets was a little golden neck medal for Jeanne.*
September 20.—Charles and his little family left the Hotel Navarin yesterday and installed themselves at 174, Rue de Rivoli. Charles and his wife, as well as Victor, will continue to dine with me every day.
The attack upon Paris began yesterday.
Louis Blanc, Gambetta and Jules Ferry came to see me this morning.
I went to the Institute to sign the Declaration that it proposes to issue encouraging the capital to resist to the last.
I will not accept any limited candidacy. I would accept with devotedness the candidacy of the city of Paris. I want the voting to be not by districts, with local candidates, but by the whole city with one list to select from.
I went to the Ministry of Public Instruction to see Mme. Jules Simon, who is in mourning for her old friend Victor Bois. Georges and Jeanne were in the garden. I played with them.
Nadar came to see me this evening to ask me for some letters to put in a balloon which he will send up the day after tomorrow. It will carry with it my three addresses: “To the Germans,” “To Frenchmen,” “To Parisians.”
October 6.—Nadar’s balloon, which has been named the “Barbes,” and which is taking my letters, etc., started this morning, but had to come down again, as there was not enough wind. It will leave to-morrow. It is said that Jules Favre and Gambetta will go in it.
Last night General John Meredith Read, United States Consul-General, called upon me. He had seen the American General Burnside, who is in the Prussian camp. The Prussians, it appears, have respected Versailles. They are afraid to attack Paris. This we are aware of, for we can see it for ourselves.
October 7.—This morning, while strolling on the Boulevard de Clichy, I perceived a balloon at the end of a street leading to Montmartre. I went up to it. A small crowd bordered a large square space that was walled in by the perpendicular bluffs of Montmartre. In this space three balloons were being inflated, a large one, a medium-sized one, and a small one. The large one was yellow, the medium one white, and the small one striped yellow and red.
In the crowd it was whispered that Gambetta was going. Sure enough I saw him in a group near the yellow balloon, wearing a heavy overcoat and a sealskin cap. He seated himself upon a paving-stone and put on a pair of high fur-lined boots. A leather bag was slung over his shoulder. He took it off, entered the balloon, and a young man, the aeronaut, tied the bag to the cordage above Gambetta’s head.
It was half past 10. The weather was fine and sunshiny, with a light southerly breeze. All at once the yellow balloon rose, with three men in it, one of whom was Gambetta. Then the white balloon went up with three men, one of whom waved a tricolour flag. Beneath Gambetta’s balloon hung a long tricolour streamer. “Long live the Republic!” shouted the crowd.
The two balloons went up for some distance, the white one going higher than the yellow one, then they began to descend. Ballast was thrown out, but they continued their downward flight. They disappeared behind Montmartre hill. They must have landed on the Saint Denis plain. They were too heavily weighted, or else the wind was not strong enough.
The departure took place after all, for the balloons went up again.
We paid a visit to Notre Dame, which has been admirably restored.
We also went to see the Tour Saint Jacques. While our carriage was standing there one of the delegates of the other day (from the Eleventh Arrondissement) came up and told me that the Eleventh Arrondissement had come round to my views, concluded that I was right in insisting upon a vote of the whole city upon a single list of candidates, begged me to accept the nomination upon the conditions I had imposed, and wanted to know what ought to be done should the Government refuse to permit an election. Ought force be resorted to? I replied that a civil war would help the foreign war that was being waged against us and deliver Paris to the Prussians.
On the way home I bought some toys for my little ones—a zouave in a sentry-box for Georges, and for Jeanne a doll that opens and shuts its eyes.
October 8.—I have received a letter from M. L. Colet, of Vienna (Austria), by way of Normandy. It is the first letter that has reached me from the outside since Paris has been invested.
There has been no sugar in Paris for six days. The rationing of meat began to-day. We shall get three quarters of a pound per person and per day.
Incidents of the postponed Commune. Feverish unrest in Paris. Nothing to cause uneasiness, however. The deep-toned Prussian cannon thunder continuously. They recommend unity among us.
The Minister of Finance, M. Ernest Picard, through his secretary, asks me to “grant him an audience;” these are the terms he uses. I answer that I will see him on Monday morning, October 10.
October 9.—Five delegates from the Ninth Arrondissement came in the name of the arrondissement to *forbid me to get myself killed*.
October 10.—M. Ernest Picard came to see me. I asked him to issue immediately a decree liberating all articles pawned at the Mont de Piété for less than 15 francs (the present decree making absurd exceptions, linen, for instance). I told him that the poor could not wait. He promised to issue the decree to-morrow.
There is no news of Gambetta. We are beginning to get uneasy. The wind carried him to the north-east, which is occupied by the Prussians.
October 11.—Good news of Gambetta. He descended at Epineuse, near Amiens.
Last night, after the demonstrations in Paris, while passing a group that had assembled under a street lamp, I heard these words: “It appears that Victor Hugo and the others—.” I continued on my way, and did not listen to the rest, as I did not wish to be recognised.
After dinner I read to my friends the verses with which the French edition of Les Châtiments begins (“When about to return to France,” Brussels, August 31, 1870).
October 12.—It is beginning to get cold. Barbieux, who commands a battalion, brought us the helmet of a Prussian soldier who was killed by his men. This helmet greatly astonished little Jeanne. These angels do not yet know anything about earth.
The decree I demanded for the indigent was published this morning in the “Journal Officiel.”
M. Pallain, the Minister’s secretary, whom I met as I came out of the Carrousel, told me that the decree would cost 800,000 francs.
I replied: “Eight hundred thousand francs, all right. Take from the rich. Give to the poor.”
October 13.—I met to-day Théophile Gautier, whom I I had not seen for many years. I embraced him. He was rather nervous. I told him to come and dine with me.
October 14.—The Château of Saint Cloud was burned yesterday!
I went to Claye’s to correct last proofs of the French edition of Les Chatiments which will appear on Tuesday. Dr. Emile Allix brought me a Prussian cannon-ball which he had picked up behind a barricade, near Montrouge, where it had just killed two horses. The cannon-ball weighs 25 pounds. Georges, in playing with it, pinched his fingers under it, which made him cry a good deal.
To-day is the anniversary of Jena!
October 16.—There is no more butter. There is no more cheese. Very little milk is left, and eggs are nearly all gone.
The report that my name has been given to the Boulevard Haussmann is confirmed. I have not been to see it for myself.
October 17.—To-morrow a postal balloon named the “Victor Hugo” is to be sent up in the Place de la Concorde. I am sending a letter to London by this balloon.
October 18.—I have paid a visit to Les Feuillantines. The house and garden of my boyhood have disappeared.
A street now passes over the site.
October 19.—Louis Blanc came to dine with me. He brought a declaration by ex-Representatives for me to sign. I said that I would not sign it unless it were drawn up in a different manner.
October 20.—Visit from the Gens de Lettres committee. To-day the first postage stamps of the Republic of 1870 were put in circulation.
Les Châtiments (French edition) appeared in Paris this morning.
The papers announce that the balloon “Victor Hugo” descended in Belgium. It is the first postal balloon to cross the frontier.
October 21.-They say that Alexandre Dumas died on October 13 at the home of his son at Havre. He was a large-hearted man of great talent. His death grieves me greatly.
Louis Blanc and Brives came to speak to me again about the Declaration of Representatives. My opinion is that it would be better to postpone it.
Nothing is more charming than the sounding of the reveille in Paris. It is dawn. One hears first, nearby, a roll of drums, followed by the blast of a bugle, exquisite melody, winged and warlike. Then all is still. In twenty seconds the drums roll again, then the bugle rings out, but further off. Then silence once more. An instant later, further off still, the same song of bugle and drum falls more faintly but still distinctly upon the ear. Then after a pause the roll and blast are repeated, very far away. Then they are heard again, at the extremity of the horizon, but indistinctly and like an echo. Day breaks and the shout “To arms!” is heard. The sun rises and Paris awakes.
October 22.—The edition of 5,000 copies of Les Châtiments has been sold in two days. I have authorised the printing of another 3,000.
Little Jeanne has imagined a way of puffing out her cheeks and raising her arms in the air that is adorable.
The first 5,000 copies of the Parisian edition of Les Chatiments has brought me in 500 francs, which I am sending to the “Siècle” as a subscription to the national fund for the cannon that Paris needs.
Mathe and Gambon, the ex-Representatives, called to ask me to take part in a meeting of which former representatives are to form the nucleus. The meeting would be impossible without me, they said. But I see more disadvantages than advantages in such a meeting. I thought I ought to refuse.
We are eating horsemeat in every style. I saw the following in the window of a cook-shop: “Saucisson chevaleresque.”
October 23.—The 17th Battalion asked me to be the first subscriber of “one sou” to a fund for purchasing a cannon. They will collect 300,000 sous. This will make 15,000 francs, which will purchase a 24-centimetre gun, carrying 8,500 metres—equal to the Krupp guns.
Lieutenant Maréchal brought to collect my sou an Egyptian cup of onyx dating from the Pharaohs, engraved with the moon and the sun, the Great Bear and the Southern Cross (?) and having for handles two cynocephalus demons. The engraving of this cup required the life-work of a man. I gave my sou. D’Alton-Shée, who was present, gave his, as did also M. and Mme. Meurice, and the two servants, Mariette and Clémence. The 17th Battalion wanted to call the gun the “Victor Hugo.” I told them to call it the “Strasburg.” In this way the Prussians will still receive shots from Strasburg.
We chatted and laughed with the officers of the 17th Battalion. It was the duty of the two cynocephalus genie of the cup to bear souls to hell. I remarked: “Very well, I confide William and Bismarck to them.”
Visit from M. Edouard Thierry. He came to request me to allow “Stella” to be read in aid of the wounded at the Théâtre Français. I gave him his choice of all the “Châtiments.” That startled him. And I demanded that the reading be for a cannon.
Visit from M. Charles Floquet. He has a post at the Hotel de Ville. I commissioned him to tell the Government to call the Mont Valérien “Mont Strasbourg.”
October 24.—Visit from General Le Flo. Various deputations received.
October 25.—There is to be a public reading of Les Châtiments for a cannon to be called “Le Châtiment.” We are preparing for it.
Brave Rostan,* whom I treated harshly one day, and who likes me because I did right, has been arrested for indiscipline in the National Guard. He has a little motherless boy six years old who has nobody else to take care of him. What was to be done, the father being in prison? I told him to send the youngster to me at the Pavilion de Rohan. He sent him to-day.
October 26.-At 6.30 o’clock Rostan, released from prison, came to fetch his little Henri. Great joy of father and son.
October 28.—Edgar Quinet came to see me.
Schoelcher and Commander Farcy, who gave his name to his gunboat, dined with me. After dinner, at half past 8 I went with Schoelcher to his home at 16, Rue de la Chaise. We found there Quinet, Ledru-Rollin, Mathé, Gambon, Lamarque, and Brives. This was my first meeting with Ledru-Rollin. We engaged in a very courteous argument over the question of founding a club, he being for and I against it. We shook hands. I returned home at midnight.
October 29.—Visits from the Gens de Lettres committee, Frédérick Lemaitre, MM. Berton and Lafontaine and Mlle. Favart for a third cannon to be called the “Victor Hugo.” I oppose the name.
I have authorised the fourth edition of 3,000 copies of Les Châtiments, which will make to date 11,000 copies for Paris alone.
October 30.—I received the letter of the Société des Gens de Lettres asking me to authorise a public reading of Les Chatiments, the proceeds of which will give to Paris another cannon to be called the “Victor Hugo.” I gave the authorisation. In my reply written this morning I demanded that instead of “Victor Hugo” the gun be called the “Châteaudun.” The reading will take place at the Porte Saint Martin.
M. Berton came. I read to him L’Expiation, which he is to read. M. and Mme. Meurice and d’Alton-Shée were present at the reading.
News has arrived that Metz has capitulated and that Bazaine’s army has surrendered.
Bills announcing the reading of Les Châtiments have been posted. M. Raphael Felix came to tell me the time at which the rehearsal is to take place tomorrow. I hired a seven-seat box for this reading, which I placed at the disposal of the ladies.
On returning home this evening I met in front of the Mairie, M. Chaudey, who was at the Lausanne Peace Conference and who is Mayor of the Sixth Arrondissement. He was with M. Philibert Audebrand. We talked sorrowfully about the taking of Metz.
October 31.—Skirmish at the Hotel de Ville. Blanqui, Flourens and Delescluze want to overthrow the provisional power, Trochu and Jules Favre. I refuse to associate myself with them.
An immense crowd. My name is on the lists of members for the proposed Government. I persist in my refusal.
Flourens and Blanqui held some of the members of the Government prisoners at the Hotel de Ville all day.
At midnight some National Guards came from the Hotel de Ville to fetch me “to preside,” they said, “over the new Government.” I replied that I was most emphatically opposed to this attempt to seize the power and refused to go to the Hotel de Ville.
At 3 o’clock in the morning Flourens and Blanqui quitted the Hotel de Ville and Trochu entered it.
The Commune of Paris is to be elected.
November 1.—We have postponed for a few days the reading of Les Châtiments, which was to have been given at the Porte Saint Martin to-day, Tuesday.
Louis Blanc came this morning to consult me as to what ought to be the conduct of the Commune.
The newspapers unanimously praise the attitude I took yesterday in rejecting the advances made to me.
November 2.—The Government demands a “yes” or a “no.”
Louis Blanc and my sons came to talk to me about it.
The report that Alexandre Dumas is dead is denied.
November 4.—I have been requested to be Mayor of the Third, also of the Eleventh, Arrondissement. I refused.
I went to the rehearsal of Les Châtiments at the Porte Saint Martin. Frédérick Lemaitre and Mmes. Laurent, Lia Felix and Duguéret were present.
November 5.—To-day the public reading of Les Châtiments, the proceeds of which are to purchase a cannon for the defence of Paris, was given.
The Third, Eleventh and Fifteenth Arrondissements want me to stand for Mayor. I refuse.
Mérimée has died at Cannes. Dumas is not dead, but he is paralyzed.
November 7.—The 24th Battalion waited upon me and wanted me to give them a cannon.
November 8.—Last night, on returning from a visit to General Le Flo, I for the first time crossed the Pont des Tuileries, which has been built since my departure from France.
November 9.—The net receipts from the reading of Les Châtiments at the Porte Saint Martin for the gun which I have named the “Châteaudun” amounted to 7,000 francs, the balance going to pay the attendants, firemen, and lighting, the only expenses charged.
At the Cail works mitrailleuses of a new model, called the Gatling model, are being made.
Little Jeanne is beginning to chatter.
A second reading of Les Châtiments for another cannon will be given at the “Théâtre Français”.
November 11.—Mlle. Periga called today to rehearse Pauline Roland, which she will read at the second reading of Les Châtiments, announced for to-morrow at the Porte Saint Martin. I took a carriage, dropped Mlle. Périga at her home, and then went to the rehearsal of to-morrow’s reading at the theatre. Frederick Lemaitre, Berton, Maubart, Taillade, Lacressonnière, Charly, Mmes. Laurent, Lia Felix, Rousseil, M. Raphael Felix and the committee of the Société des Gens de Lettres were there.
After the rehearsal the wounded of the Porte Saint Martin ambulance asked me, through Mme. Laurent, to go and see them. I said: “With all my heart,” and I went.
They are lying in several rooms, chief of which is the old green-room of the theatre with its big round mirrors, where in 1831 I read to the actors “Marion de Lorme”. M. Crosnier was then director. (Mme. Dorval and Bocage were present at that reading.) On entering I said to the wounded men: “Behold one who envies you. I desire nothing more on earth but one of your wounds. I salute you, children of France, favourite sons of the Republic, elect who suffer for the Fatherland.”
They seemed to be greatly moved. I shook hands with each of them. One held out his mutilated wrist. Another had lost his nose. One had that very morning undergone two painful operations. A very young man had been decorated with the military medal a few hours before. A convalescent said to me: “I am a Franc-Comtois.” “Like myself,” said I. And I embraced him. The nurses, in white aprons, who are the actresses of the theatre, burst into tears.
November 13.—I had M. and Mme. Paul Meurice, Vacquerie and Louis Blanc to dinner this evening. We dined at 6 o’clock, as the second reading of Les Chatiments was fixed to begin at the Porte Saint Martin at 7.30. I offered a box to Mme. Paul Meurice for the reading.
November 14.—The receipts for Les Chatiments last night (without counting the collection taken up in the theatre) amounted to 8,000 francs.
Good news! General d’Aurelle de Paladine has retaken Orleans and beaten the Prussians. Schoelcher came to inform me of it.
November 15.—Visit from M. Arsène Houssaye and Henri Houssaye, his son. He is going to have Stella read at his house in aid of the wounded.
M. Valois came to tell me that the two readings of Les Châtiments brought in 14,000 francs. For this sum not two, but three guns can be purchased. The Société des Gens de Lettres desires that, the first having been named by me the “Châteaudun” and the second “Les Châtiments”, the third shall be called the “Victor Hugo.” I have consented.
Pierre Veron has sent me Daumier’s fine drawing representing the Empire annihilated by Les Chatiments.
November 16.—Baroche, they say, has died at Caen.
M. Edouard Thierry refuses to allow the fifth act of “Hernani” to be played at the Porte Saint Martin for the victims of Châteaudun and for the cannon of the 24th Battalion. A queer obstacle this M. Thierry!
November 17.—Visit from the Gens de Lettres committee. The committee came to ask me to authorise a reading of Les Châtiments at the Opera to raise funds for another cannon.
I mention here once for all that I authorise whoever desires to do so, to read or perform whatever he likes that I have written, if it be for cannon, the wounded, ambulances, workshops, orphanages, victims of the war, or the poor, and that I abandon all my royalties on these readings or performances.
I decide that the third reading of Les Chatiments shall be given at the Opera gratis for the people.
November 19.—Mme. Marie Laurent came to recite to me Les Pauvres Gens, which she will recite at the Porte Saint Martin to-morrow to raise funds for a cannon.
November 20.—Last evening there was an aurora borealis.
“La Grosse Josephine” is no longer my neighbour. She has just been transported to Bastion No. 41. It took twenty-six horses to draw her. I am sorry they have taken her away. At night I could hear her deep voice, and it seemed to me that she was speaking to me. I divided my love between “Grosse Joséphine” and Little Jeanne.
Little Jeanne can now say “papa” and “mamma” very well.
To-day there was a review of the National Guard.
November 21.—Mme. Jules Simon and Mme. Sarah Bernhardt came to see me.
After dinner many visitors called, and the drawing-room was crowded. It appears that Veuillot insulted me.
Little Jeanne begins to crawl on her hands and knees very well indeed.
November 23.—Jules Simon writes me that the Opera will be given to me for the people (free reading of Les Châtiments) any day I fix upon. I wanted Sunday, but out of consideration for the concert that the actors and employés of the Opera give Sunday night for their own benefit I have selected Monday.
Frédérick Lemaitre called. He kissed my hands and wept.
It has been raining for two or three days. The rain has soaked the plains, the cannon-wheels would sink into the ground, and the sortie has therefore had to be deferred. For two days Paris has been living on salt meat. A rat costs 8 sous.
November 24.—I authorise the Théâtre Français to play to-morrow, Friday, the 25th, on behalf of the victims of the war, the fifth act of “Hernani” by the actors of the Théâtre Français and the last act of “Lucrece Borgia” by the actors of the Porte Saint Martin, and in addition the recitation as an intermede of extracts from Les Châtiments, Les Contemplations and La Légende des Siècles.
Mlle. Favart came this morning to rehearse with me Booz Endormie. Then we went together to the Français for the rehearsal for the performance of to-morrow. She acted Doña Sol very well indeed. Mme. Laurent (Lucrèce Borgia) also played well. During the rehearsal M. de Flavigny dropped in. I said to him: “Good morning, my dear ex-colleague.” He looked at me, then with some emotion exclaimed: “Hello! is that you?” And he added: “How well preserved you are!” I replied: “Banishment preserves one.”
I returned the ticket for a box that the Théâtre Français sent to me for to-morrow’s performance, and hired a box, which I placed at the disposal of Mme. Paul Meurice.
After dinner the new Prefect of Police, M. Cresson, paid me a visit. M. Cresson was the barrister who twenty years ago defended the murderers of General Bréa. He spoke to me about the free reading of Les Châtiments to be given on Monday the 28th at the Opera. It is feared that an immense crowd—all the faubourgs—will be attracted. More than 25,000 men and women. Three thousand will be able to get in. What is to be done with the rest? The Government is uneasy. Many are called but few will be chosen, and it fears that a crush, fighting and disorders will result. The Government will refuse me nothing. It wants to know whether I will accept the responsibility. It will do whatever I wish done. The Prefect of Police has been instructed to come to an understanding with me about it.
I said to M. Cresson: “Let us consult Vacquerie and Meurice and my two sons.” He replied: “Willingly.” The six of us held a council. We decided that three thousand tickets should be distributed on Sunday, the day before the lecture, at the mairies of the twenty arrondissements to the first persons who presented themselves after noon. Each arrondissement will receive a number of tickets in proportion to the number of its population. The next day the 3,000 holders of tickets (to all places) will wait their turn at the doors of the Opera without causing any obstruction or trouble. The “Journal Officiel” and special posters will apprise the public of the measures taken in the interest of public order.
November 25.—Mlle. Lia Felix came to rehearse Sacer Esto, which she will recite to the people on Monday.
M. Tony Révillon, who is to make a speech, came to see me with the Gens de Lettres committee.
A deputation of Americans from the United States came to express their indignation with the Government of the American Republic and with President Grant for abandoning France—“To which the American Republic owes so much!” said I. “Owes everything,” declared one of the Americans present.
A good deal of cannonading has been heard for several days. To-day it redoubled.
Mme. Meurice wants some fowls and rabbits in order to provide against the coming famine. She is having a hutch made for them in my little garden. The carpenter who is constructing it entered my chamber a little while ago and said: “I would like to touch your hand.” I pressed both his hands in mine.
November 27.—The Academy has given a sign of life. I have received official notice that in future it will hold an extraordinary session every Tuesday.
Pâtés of rat are being made. They are said to be very good.
An onion costs a sou. A potato costs a sou.
They have given up asking my authorisation to recite my works which are being recited everywhere without my permission. They are right. What I write is not my own. I am a public thing.
November 28.—Noel Parfait came to ask my help for Châteaudun. Certainly; with all my heart!
Les Châtiments was recited gratis at the Opera. An immense crowd. A gilt wreath was thrown on the stage. I gave it to Georges and Jeanne. The collection made in Prussian helmets by the actresses produced 1,521 francs 35 centimes in coppers.
Emile Allix brought us a leg of antelope from the Jardin des Plantes. It is excellent.
To-night the sortie is to be made.
November 29.—All night long I heard the cannon.
The fowls were installed in my garden to-day.
The sortie is being delayed. The bridge thrown across the Marne by Ducros has been carried away, the Prussians having blown open the locks.
November 30.—All night long the cannon thundered. The battle continues.
At midnight last night as I was returning home through the Rue de Richelieu from the Pavilion de Rohan, I saw just beyond the National Library, the street being deserted and dark at the time, a window open on the sixth floor of a very high house and a very bright light, which appeared to be that of a petroleum lamp, appear and disappear several times; then the window closed and the street became dark again. Was it a signal?
The cannon can be heard at three points round Paris, to the east, west and south. This is because a triple attack is being made on the ring the Prussians have drawn round us. The attack is being made at Saint Denis by Laroncière, at Courbevoie by Vinoy, and on the Marne by Ducros. Laroncière is said to have swept the peninsula of Gennevilliers and compelled a Saxon regiment to lay down its arms, and Vinoy is said to have destroyed the Prussian works beyond Bougival. As to Ducros, he has crossed the Marne, taken and retaken Montédy, and almost holds Villiers-sur-Marne. What one experiences on hearing the cannon is a great desire to be there.
This evening Pelletan sent his son, Camille Pelletan, to inform me on behalf of the Government that to-morrow’s operations will be decisive.
December 1.—It appears that Louise Michel has been arrested. I will do all that is necessary to have her released immediately. Mme. Meurice is occupying herself about it. She went out this morning for that purpose.
D’Alton-Shée came to see me.
We ate bear for dinner.
I have written to the Prefect of Police to have Louise Michel released.
There was no fighting to-day. The positions taken were fortified.
December 2.—Louise Michel has been released. She came to thank me.
Last evening M. Coquelin called to recite several pieces from Les Châtiments.
It is freezing. The basin of the Pigalle fountain is frozen over.
The cannonade recommenced at daybreak.
11.30 A.M.—The cannonade increases.
Flourens wrote to me yesterday and Rochefort to-day. They are coming round to me again.
Dorian, Minister of Public Works, and Pelletan came to dine with me.
Excellent news to-night! The Army of the Loire is at Montargis. The Army of Paris has driven back the Prussians from the Avron plateau. The despatches announcing these successes are read aloud at the doors of the mairies.
Victory! The Second of December has been wiped out!
December 3.—General Renault, who was wounded in the foot by a splinter from a shell, is dead.
I told Schoelcher that I want to go out with my sons if the batteries of the National Guard to which they belong are sent to the front. The batteries drew lots. Four are to go. One of them is the 10th Battery, of which Victor is a member. I will go out with that battery. Charles does not belong to it, which is a good job; he will stay behind, he has two children. I will order him to stay. Vacquerie and Meurice are members of the 10th Battery. We shall be together in the combat. I will have a cape with a hood made for me. What I fear is the cold at night.
I made some shadows on the wall for Georges and Jeanne. Jeanne laughed delightedly at the shadow and the grimaces of the profile; but when she saw that the shadow was me she cried and screamed. She seemed to say: “I don’t want you to be a phantom!” Poor, sweet angel! Perhaps she has a presentiment of the coming battle.
Yesterday we ate some stag; the day before we partook of bear; and the two days previous we fared on antelope. These were presents from the Jardin des Plantes.
To-night at 11 o’clock, cannonading. Violent and brief.
December 4.—A notice has been posted on my door indicating the precautions to be taken “in case of bombardment.” That is the title of the notice.
There is a pause in the combat. Our army has recrossed the Marne.
Little Jeanne crawls very well on her bands and knees and says “papa” very prettily.
December 5.—I have just seen a magnificent hearse, draped with black velvet, embroidered with an “H” surrounded by silver stars, go by to fetch its burden. A Roman would not disdain to be borne in it.
Gautier came to dine with me. After dinner Banville and Coppée called.
Bad news. Orleans has been captured from us again. No matter. Let us persist.
December 7.—I had Gautier, Banville and François Coppée to dinner. After dinner Asselineau came. I read Floréal and L’Egout de Rome to them.
December 8.—The “Patrie en Danger” has ceased to appear. In the absence of readers, says Blanqui.
M. Maurice Lachâtre, publisher, came to make me an offer for my next book. He has sent me his Dictionary and The History of the Revolution by Louis Blanc. I shall present to him Napoleon the Little and Les Châtiments.
December 9.—I woke up in the night and wrote some verses. At the same time I heard the cannon.
M. Bondes came to see me. The correspondent of the “Times,” who is at Versailles, has written him that the guns for the bombardment of Paris have arrived. They are Krupp guns. They are awaiting their carriages. They have been arranged in the Prussian arsenal at Versailles side by side “like bottles in a cellar,” according to this Englishman.
I copy the following from a newspaper:
M. Victor Hugo had manifested the intention to leave Paris unarmed, with the artillery battery of the National Guard to which his two sons belong.
The 144th Battalion of the National Guard went in a body to the poet’s residence in the Avenue Frochot. Two delegates waited upon him.
These honourable citizens went to forbid Victor Hugo to carry out his plan, which he had announced some time ago in his “Address to the Germans.”
“Everybody can fight,” the deputation told him. “But everybody cannot write Les Chatiments. Stay at home, therefore, and take care of a life that is so precious to France.”
I do not remember the number of the battalion. It was not the 144th. Here are the terms of the address which was read to me by the major of the battalion:
The National Guard of Paris forbids Victor Hugo to go to the front, inasmuch as everybody can go to the front, whereas Victor Hugo alone can do what Victor Hugo does.
“Forbids” is touching and charming.
December 11.—Rostan came to see me. He has his arm in a sling. He was wounded at Créteil. It was at night. A German soldier rushed at him and pierced his arm with a bayonet. Rostan retaliated with a bayonet thrust in the German’s shoulder. Both fell and rolled into a ditch. Then they became good friends. Rostan speaks a little broken German.
“Who are you?”
“I am a Wurtembergian. I am twenty-two years old. My father is a clockmaker of Leipsic.”
They remained in the ditch for three hours, bleeding, numb with cold, helping each other. Rostan, wounded, brought the man who wounded him back as a prisoner. He goes to see him at the hospital. These two men adore each other. They wanted to kill each other, and now they would die for each other.
Eliminate kings from the dispute!
Visit from M. Rey. The Ledru-Rollin group is completely disorganized. No more parties; the Republic. It is well.
I presented some Dutch cheese to Mme. Paul Meurice. Sleet is falling.
December 12.—I arrived in Brussels nineteen years ago to-day.
December 13.—Since yesterday Paris has been lighted with petroleum.
Heavy cannonade to-night.
December 14.—Thaw. Cannonade.
To-night we glanced over Goya’s Disasters of War (brought by Burty, the art critic). It is fine and hideous.
December 15.—Emmanuel Arago, Minister of Justice, came to see me and informed me that there would be fresh meat until February 15, but that in future only brown bread would be made in Paris. There will be enough of this to last for five months.
Allix brought me a medal struck to commemorate my return to France. It bears on one side a winged genius and the words: “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,” and on the other side, round the rim: “Appeal to Universal Democracy,” and in the centre: “To Victor Hugo, From His Grateful Fatherland.’ September, 1870.”
This medal is sold in the streets and costs 5 centimes. There is a little ring in it by which it can be suspended to a chain.
December 16.—Pelleport* came to-night. I requested him to visit Flourens, in Mazas Prison, on my behalf, and to take him a copy of Napoleon the Little.