“No, no! I hope the war is over now.”
“If it were so (and I despair of it) there would be sown the seeds of future wars, and it could only be the seed of hatred which is contained in this expulsion of the Germans. Such a thing as that has an effect far beyond the present generation.”
September 4. Another act of violence, an outbreak of passion, and, at the same time, a remedy tried for the salvation of the country—the emperor is deposed. France proclaims herself a republic. Whatever Napoleon III and his army may have done matters not. Mistakes, treachery, cowardice, all these faults have been committed by individuals, the emperor and his generals; but France has not committed them, she is not answerable for it. When the throne was overturned, the leaves in France’s history, on which Metz and Sedan were inscribed, were simply torn out of the book. From this time the country itself would carry on the war, if, at least, Germany dared to continue this infamous invasion.
“But how if Napoleon had conquered?” I asked, when Frederick communicated this to me.
“Oh, then, France would have taken his victory and his glory as the country’s victory and glory.”
“Is that just?”
“Cannot you get out of the habit of putting that question?”
I had soon to see my hopes, that the catastrophe of Sedan would put an end to the campaign, vanish. All around us seemed as warlike as ever. The air was laden with savage rage and hot lust of vengeance. Rage against the enemy, and almost as much against the fallen dynasty. The scandalous talk, the pamphlets which now poured down against the emperor, the empress, and the unfortunate generals; the contempt, the slanders, the insults, the jests—it was disgusting. In this way the uncultured masses thought they could lay the whole burden of the defeats of the country on the shoulders of one or two persons, and, now that these persons were down, pelted them with dung and stones. And this was the beginning of the time when the country was to show that she was invincible!
The preparations for intrenching Paris were carried on zealously. The buildings in the fighting area of the chief enceinte were abandoned or taken down entirely. The suburbs became deserts. Troops of men kept coming from outside into the city with all their belongings. Oh, those sorrowful trains of carts and pack horses, and laden men, who were trailing the ruins of their desolated hearths through the streets! I had already seen the same thing once in Bohemia, when the poor country folk were flying from the enemy; and now I had to look on the same picture of wretchedness in the joyous, brilliant capital of the world. There were the same frightened, sorrowful visages, the same weariness and haste, the same woe.
At last, God be praised, once more a good piece of news! On the proposal of a mediation on the part of England, a meeting was arranged at Ferrières between Jules Favre and Bismarck. Now surely they would succeed in coming to an agreement—in making peace!
On the contrary, it was not till now that the extent of the gulf was seen. For some little time before this there had been some talk in the German papers of the annexation of Alsace and Lorraine. A desire was shown to incorporate once more the land which had formerly been German. The historical argument for the claim on these provinces appearing only partially sustainable, the strategic argument was brought forward to support it—“indispensable as a fortress in future wars which may be expected.” And it is well known, of course, that the strategic grounds are the weightiest, the most impregnable; and that in comparison with them a moral ground can only reckon as secondary. On the other hand, the war game had been lost by France; was it not fair that the prize should fall to the winners? In case they had won, would not the French have seized the Rhine provinces? If the result of a war is not to have for its consequence an extension of territory for one side or the other, what good would it be to make war at all?
Meantime the victorious army made no halt in its onward march. The Germans were already before the gates of Paris. The cession of Alsace and Lorraine was officially demanded; to which came the well-known reply: “Not an inch of our territory, not a stone of our fortresses”—(“Pas un pouce—pas une pierre”).
Yes, yes—thousands of lives, but not an inch of ground. That is the rooted idea of the patriotic spirit. “They wish to humble us,” cried the French patriots. “No! sooner shall exasperated Paris bury itself under its own ruins!”
Away! away! was now our resolution. Why should we stay in a beleaguered foreign city without any necessity; why live among people full of no other thoughts than those of hate and vengeance, who looked at us with sidelong glances and often with clenched fists, when they heard us talking German? It is true, we could no longer leave Paris, or leave France, without difficulty. One had in all directions to pass over war districts, the railway traffic was frequently suspended for private travellers. To leave our new building in the lurch was unpleasant, but this was of no consequence, for our stay was impossible. In fact we had already stayed far too long. The events which I had experienced recently had shaken me so much that my nerves had suffered
