CHAPTER VI.

ORLEANS.

THERE was a magic in the legendary name of Orleans that revived in these days of common-place Voltairianism, the memory of an heroic past amidst the agonies of an expiring nation. Wonderful was the effect, and for the first time the flame of patriotism burnt bright and fierce in the beleaguered city. Our heated imaginations took fire; we saw Kératry marching with his Bretons from the West, D'Aurelles de Paladine pressing onwards with his Algerian warriors from the south, and as several days had elapsed since the fight of Coulmiers, we were already straining our ears to catch the first sound of their cannon. Great movements of troops were perceptible outside the ramparts, chiefly on the western front; but the regular army, especially the Garde Mobile, was slow to recover from the effects of its previous despondency, and its efforts were confined to mere demonstrations, from a want of elan on the part of the troops demoralized by the political anarchy of the capital and convinced that

VI.]

they were

I hopelessly and unjustly sacrificed to the passions of the Parisian mob. Nevertheless, a great and undeniable change had been wrought, a new start and impetus had been given, and the long-dreaded moment in which famine had at last to be faced as a fact, passed quite smoothly and almost unperceived. The Parisians learnt with much composure that the supply of beef and mutton was exhausted and that in future an ounce and a half of horseflesh would be their

daily portion.

It was at this time that dogs, cats, and rats became the popular dish; the craving for fresh meat after some four or five weeks' comparative abstinence had removed

all prejudice, more especially amongst the upper classes which enjoyed the advantages of Parisian cookery. Numerous menus of these siege-dinners have been preserved by "diners-out" of the period,-for not everybody could afford, at home, the luxury of a salmi of rats, and these bear witness to the fertility of invention which distinguished our cordon-bleus. Cat and

dog, which does not require such elaborate preparation, was largely consumed by the lower classes; ten and even twenty francs were offered for a well-conditioned angora, but these animals were generally stolen by the gamins. In the Quartier Montmartre a "Feline and Canine Butchery," with "Guerre à Outrance" for its sign, was publicly established and recognised by law.

I may here add that dog is not a bad substitute for mutton, and that cat, as all the world knows, is often eaten for rabbit. Mule is a delicacy which I prefer to beef, but our horseflesh was certainly poor. The rich made very merry over the pâtés de rat, and those who partook of this kind of food did so quite gratuitously in order to be à la mode-rat-dinners being generally held in derision of Bismarck and his menaces ; besides which, the true Parisian has an innate pleasure in doing something to shock his simple-minded European neighbours, and mystify posterity. English amateurs, if they exist, of Theodore de Banville's poetry, may perhaps be amused with the following reflections inspired in verse by the fate of the interesting "vermin" which the "White Cuirassier" Count BismarckSchönhausen compelled us to devour.

ODE TO THE RATS.

Dans un coin reculé du parc,
Les rats assis sur leurs derrières
Regardent Monsieur de Bismarck
Sous les ombrages de Ferrières.

Les yeux enflammés de courroux
Et lui tirant leurs langues roses,
Les petits rats, blancs, noirs et roux,
Lui murmurent en choeur ces choses:

Cuirassier blanc, qui te poussait
À vouloir cette guerre étrange?
Ah! meurtrisseur de rois, c'est
A cause de toi qu'on nous mange!

The same spirit of good humour in which Paris submitted so cheerfully to the real hardships and privations of the siege, removed, as by enchantment, the almost insuperable difficulties which had hitherto beset the path of Government. The National Guard obeyed with alacrity the decree which mobilized for active service at the outposts the youngest and most efficient portion of the civic force. Our "Pessimists," and "Redditionists," did penance for their sinister predictions of the preceding fortnight by out-heroding the outranciers on the boulevards. M. About, two days ago the most popular man in Paris, when he threw the "decent drapery" of his prose over the

ugly nudities of our moral situation, came to be looked upon as the sole responsible promoter of what he had only been the successful accomplice. M. About is a butterfly-hunter whose net rarely secures the butterfly he chases-popularity. Even the grave and sober Débats forgot to urge the necessity of convoking a National Assembly, and the Government obtained a lease of unquestioned discretionary power. Paris, for the first time, began to believe in her governors,-at least, she abstained from abusing them since she now awaited her deliverance from without; all criticism or expression of doubt was suppressed by a system of moral ostracism, and those who from the very outset of the siege had considered the whole defence of Paris as a sham, or, at the best, as a demonstration to save the honour of the capital, joined in the common cry of victory, and reserved their opinions for another opportunity. This undercurrent of opposition to the war existed, in fact, during the whole time of the siege, and it was much stronger than historians will in all probability be led to infer from the records before them. The leading writers of the popular press have been generally looked upon as men of warlike tendencies, endowed with a large share of illusions; but the truth is, that from the very first, with the exception of a few ultra-Republicans, the press remained what it had been under the Empire-profoundly sceptical, and sub