The Good Mother crossed herself and, repeated, "What do you wish, my brothers?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Federal Visit to The Little Sisters of The Poor.]

Now, if Citizen Rigault, who put Monseigneur Darboy down so wittily, had been there, how briskly he would have told the stupid woman that these were National Guards, and not brothers, before her. But even Rigault cannot be everywhere at once. "We want to inspect your funds," replied the officer. The Good Mother signed to him to follow, opened a cupboard, pulled out a drawer, and said, "This is what we have." The box had twenty-two francs in it. "Is that all?" asked the captain in a suspicious tone.--"Nothing more, monsieur," she said; "besides, you can look everywhere for yourselves." So the National Guards spread through the house, opened the rooms, searched the cupboards and chests, and came at last, without having found anything, to the dormitories, where the Little Sisters' old nurselings were lying. Every head was upraised in astonishment and fear, and all, stammering and trembling, began jabbering out at once, "What are you doing here? You are not going to hurt the good Sisters? It's a shame! It's infamous! Go away! It's cowardly! My good monsieur, what will become of us if you take them away?" The old women were furious, and the old men in lamentations.

Officer and men scarcely expected such a scene, and began to hesitate in their search. "Well, well, my good people," said the officer, who had been the most violent, and had now softened down, "we won't take the Little Sisters away, and we won't hurt them either. There, there--are you satisfied?"--and the men began to go downstairs again.--"My sister, you have not shut your drawer," said the captain, as he pa.s.sed the cupboard.--"That is true, monsieur; I am not in the habit of doing it.

In our house, you see, it is quite useless."--"Never mind, shut it to-day at any rate. How can I know all the men I have about me?" And as he spoke, the captain turned back, shut the drawer himself, without touching the contents, and gave the key to the superior. He seemed quite ill at ease, and got out at last, "We didn't know ... if we had known it was like this ... you see we had been told ... yes, yes, it is very good of you to take care of those poor old folks upstairs." Now that the man seemed embarra.s.sed and showed some kindliness in his manner, a Little Sister who had quite got over her fear, went up to him and told him how frightened they had been for a whole month past; that they had been told that the Reds wanted to take their house. Ah! it was horrible! But monsieur would protect them, would he not?

"That I will," bravely answered the captain; "give me your hand. And now, if any one wants to harm you, he will have me to deal with first."

A few minutes later, the National Guards were gone, the Little Sisters and the old nurslings were at rest again, and the house was just as silent and peaceful as if it were no abominable resort of plotters and conspirators.

But if I had been the Commune of Paris, would I not have shot that captain!

LVIII.

The people of the Hotel de Ville said to themselves, "All our fine doings and talking come to nothing, the delegate Cluseret and the commandant Dombrowski send us the most encouraging despatches in vain, we shall never succeed in persuading the Parisian population, that our struggle against the army of Versailles is a long string of decisive victories; whatever we may do, they will finish by finding out that the federate battalions gave way strangely in face of the iron-plated mitrailleuses the day before yesterday at Asnieres, and it would be difficult to make them believe that this village, so celebrated for fried fish and Paris c.o.c.kneys, is still in our possession, unless we can manage to persuade them that although we have evacuated Asnieres, we still energetically maintain our position there. The fact is, affairs are taking a tolerably bad turn for us. How are we to get over the inconvenience of being vanquished? What are we to do to destroy the bad impression produced by our doubtful triumphs?" And thereupon the members of the Commune fell to musing. "Parbleu!" cried they, after a few moments' reflection--the elect of Paris are capable of more in a single second than all the deputies of the National a.s.sembly in three years--"Let decrees, proclamations, and placards be prepared. By what means, did we succeed in imposing on the donkeys of Paris? Why, by decrees, by proclamations, by placards. Courage, then, let us persevere.

Ha! the traitors have taken the chateau of Becon, and have seized upon Asnieres. What matters! quick, eighty pens and eighty inkstands. To work, men of letters; painters and shoemakers, to work! Franckel, who is Hungarian; Napoleon Gaillard, who is a cobbler; Dombrowski, who is a Pole; and Billioray, who writes _omelette_ with an h, will make perhaps rather a mess of it. But, thank heaven! We have amongst us Felix Pyat, the great dramatist; Pierre Denis, who has made such bad verses that he must write good prose; and lastly, Vermorel, the author of '_Ces Dames_,' a little book ill.u.s.trated with photographs for the use of schools, and '_Desperanza_,' a novel which caused Gustave Flaubert many a nightmare. To work, comrades, to work! We have been asked for a long time what we understand by the words--La Commune. Tell them, if you know. Write it, proclaim it, and we will placard it. Even if you don't know, tell them all the same; the great art of a good cook consists in making jugged hare without hare of any kind." And this is why there appeared this morning on the walls an immense placard, with the following words in enormous letters: "Declaration to the French people."

Twenty days ago a long proclamation, which pretended to express and define the tendencies of the revolution of the eighteenth of March, would perhaps have had some effect. To-day we have awaked from many illusions, and the finest phrases in the world will not overcome our obstinate indifference. Let us, however, read and note.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VERMOREL,[65] DELEGATE OF PUBLIC SAFETY.]

"In the painful and terrible conflict which once more imposes upon Paris the horrors of the siege and the bombardment, which makes French blood flow, which causes our brothers, our wives, our children, to perish, crushed by shot and sh.e.l.l, it is urgent that public opinion should not be divided, that the national conscience should not be troubled."

That's right! I entirely agree with you; it is undoubtedly very urgent that public opinion should not be divided. But let us see what means you are going to take to obtain so desirable a result.

"Paris and the whole nation must know what is the nature, the reason, the object of the revolution which is now being accomplished."

Doubtless; but if that be indispensable to-day, would it have been less useful on the very first day of the revolution; we do not see why you have made us wait quite so long for it.

"The responsibility of the mourning, the suffering, and the misfortunes of which we are the victims should fall upon those who, after having betrayed France and delivered Paris to the foreigner, pursue with blind obstinacy the destruction of the capital, in order to bury under the ruins of the Republic and of Liberty the double evidence of their treason and their crime."

Heigho! what a phrase! These clear and precise expressions, that throw so much light on the gloom of the situation, are these yours, Felix Pyat? Did the Commune say "_Pyat Lux!_" Or were they yours, Pierre Denis? Or yours, Vermorel? I particularly admire the double evidence buried under the ruins of the Republic. Happy metaphor!

"The duty of the Commune is to affirm and determine the aspirations and the views of the population of Paris; to fix precisely the character of the movement of the 18th of March, misunderstood, misinterpreted, and vilified by the men who sit at Versailles."

Ah, yes, that is the duty of the Commune, but for heaven's sake don't keep us waiting, you see we are dying with impatience.

"Once more, Paris labours and suffers for the whole of France, and by her combats and her sacrifices prepares the way for intellectual, moral, administrative and economic regeneration, glory and prosperity."

That is so true that since the Commune existed in Paris, the workshops are closed, the factories are idle, and France, for whom the capital sacrifices herself, loses something like fifty millions a day. These are facts, it seems to me; and I don't see what the traitors of Versailles can say in reply.

"What does Paris demand?"

Ah! yes, what does she ask? Truly we should not be sorry to know. Or rather, what do you ask; for in the same way as Louis le Grand had the right to say, "The State, I am the State," you may say "Paris, we are Paris."

"Paris demands the recognition and the consolidation of the Republic, the only form of government compatible with the rights of the people, and the regular and free development of society."

This once you are right. Paris demands the Republic, and must yearn for it eagerly indeed, since neither your excesses nor your follies have succeeded in changing its mind.

"It demands the absolute entirety of the Commune extended to all the localities of France, ensuring to everyone the integrity of its rights, and to every Frenchman the free exercise of his faculties and abilities as man, citizen, and workman. The rights of the Commune should have no other limit, but the equal rights of all other Communes adhering to the contract, an a.s.sociation which would a.s.sure the unity of France."

This is a little obscure. What I understand is something like this. You would make France a federation of Communes, but what is the meaning of words "adherence to the contract?" You admit then that certain Communes might refuse their adhesion. In that case what would be the situation of these rebels? Would you leave them free? Or would you force them to obey the conventions of the majority? Do you think it would be sufficient, in the case of such a town as Pezenas, for example, refusing to adhere, that the a.s.sociation would be incomplete? That is to say, that French unity would not exist? Are you very sure about Pezenas? Who tells you that Pezenas may not have its own idea of independence, and that, we may not hear presently that it has elected a duke who raises an army and coins money. Duke of Pezenas! that sounds well. Remember, also, that many other localities might follow the example of Pezenas, and perhaps in order to insure the entirety of the Commune, it might have been wise to have asked them if they wanted it. Now, what do you understand by "localities?" Ma.r.s.eilles is a locality; an isolated farm in the middle of a field is also a locality. So France would be divided into an infinite number of Communes. Would they agree amongst themselves, these innumerable little states? Supposing they are agreed to the contract, it is not impossible that petty rivalries should lead to quarrels, or even to blows; an action about a party-wall might lead to a civil war. How would you reduce the recalcitrant localities to reason? for even supposing that the Communes have the right to subjugate a Commune, the disaffected one could always escape you by declaring that it no longer adheres to the social compact. So that if this secession were produced not only by the vanity of one or more little hamlets, but by the pride of one or more great towns, France would find herself all at once deprived of her most important cities. Ah! messieurs, this part of your programme certainly leaves something to be desired, and I recommend you to improve it, unless indeed you prefer to suppress it altogether.

"The inherent rights of the Commune are 'the vote of the Commmunal budget, the levying and the division of taxes, the direction of the local services, the organisation of the magistrature, of the police, and of education, and of the administration of the property belonging to the Commune.'"

This paragraph is cunning. It does not seem so at first sight, but look at it closely, and you will see that the most Machiavellic spirit has presided over its production. The ability consists in placing side by side with the rights which incontestably belong to the Commune, other rights which do not belong to it the least in the world, and in not appearing to attach more importance to one than to the other, so that the reader, carried away by the evident legitimacy of many of your claims, may say to himself, "Really all that is very just." Let us unravel if you please this skein of red worsted so ingeniously tangled.

The vote of the Communal budget, receipts and expenses, the levying and division of taxes, the administration of the Communal property, are rights which certainly belong to the Commune; if it had not got them it would not exist. And why do they belong to it? Because it alone could know what is good for it in these matters, and could come to such decision upon them, as it thought fit, without injuring the whole country. But it is not the same as regards measures concerning the magistracy, the police, and education. Well, suppose one fine day a Commune should say, "Magistrates? I don't want any magistrates; these black-robed gentry are no use to me; let others nourish these idlers, who send brave thieves and honest a.s.sa.s.sins to the galleys; I love a.s.sa.s.sins and I honour thieves, and more, I choose that the culprits should judge the magistrates of the Republic." Now, if a Commune were to say that, or something like that, what could you answer in reply?

Absolutely nothing; for, according to your system, each locality in France has the right to organise its magistracy as it pleases. As regards the police and education, it would be easy to make out similar hypotheses, and thus to exhibit the absurdity of your Communal pretensions. Should a Commune say, "No person shall be arrested in future, and it is prohibited under pain of death to learn by heart the fable of the wolf and the fox." What could you say to that? Nothing, unless you admitted that you were mistaken just now in supposing, that the integrity of the Commune ought to have no other limit but the right of equal independence of all the other Communes. There exists another limit, and that is the general interests of the country, which cannot permit one part of it to injure the rest, by bad example or in any other way; the central power alone can judge those questions where a single absurd measure--of which more than one "locality" may probably be guilty--might compromise the honour or the interests of France; the magistracy, the police, and education, are evidently questions of that nature.

The other rights of the Commune are, always be it understood, according to the declaration made to the French people:

"The choice by election or compet.i.tion; with the responsibility and the permanent right of control over magistrates and communal functionaries of every cla.s.s;

"The absolute guarantee of individual liberty, of liberty of conscience, and of liberty of labour;

"The permanent partic.i.p.ation of the citizens in Communal affairs by the free manifestations of their opinions, and the free defence of their interests: guarantees to this effect to be given by the Commune, the only power charged with the surveillance and the protection of the full and just exercise of the rights of meeting and publicity;

"The organisation of the city defences and of the National Guard, which elects its own officers, and alone ensures the maintenance of order in the city."

With regard to the affirmation of these rights we may repeat that which we have said above, that some of them really belong to the Commune, but that the greater part of them do not.

"Paris desires nothing more in the way of local guarantees, on condition, let it be understood, of finding in the great central administration ..."

"... In the great central administration appointed by the federated Commune the realisation and the practice of the same principles."

That is to say, in other words, that Paris will consent willingly to be of the same opinion as others, if all the world is of the same opinion as itself.

"But, thanks to its independence, and profiting by its liberty of action, Paris reserves to itself the right of effecting, as it pleases, the administrative and economic reforms demanded by the population; to create proper inst.i.tutions for the development and propagation of instruction, production, commerce, and credit; to universalize power and property,..."

Whew! Universalize property! Pray what does that mean, may I ask?

Communalism here presents a singular likeness to Communism!

"... According to the necessities of the moment, the desire of those interested, and the lessons famished by experience:

"Our enemies deceive themselves or the country when they accuse Paris of wishing to impose its will or its supremacy on the rest of the nation, and to pretend to a dictatorship which would be a positive offence against the independence and the sovereignty of the other Communes:

"They deceive themselves, or they deceive the country, when they accuse Paris of desiring the destruction of French unity, const.i.tuted by the Revolution amid the acclamations of our fathers hurrying to the Festival of the Federation from all points of ancient France:

"Political unity as imposed upon us up to the present time by the empire, the monarchy, and parliamentarism, is nothing more than despotic centralization, whether intelligent, arbitrary, or onerous.

"Political unity, such as Paris demands, is the voluntary a.s.sociation of all local initiatives, the spontaneous and free cooperation of individual energies with one single common object--the well-being and the security of all.

"The Communal revolution, inaugurated by the popular action of the 18th of March, ushers in a new era of experimental, positive, and scientific politics."