ent Fosse to keep
them open, as a means of escape? Alas! these subterranean passages that
underlie so large a portion of ancient Paris, what stories could they
not tell of starved fugitives and maimed culprits dragging their weary
limbs into the darkness of these gloomy caverns, only that they might
die there in peace! Men and women, whose forms will in a few short weeks
be unrecognisable, whose whitened bones will be crushed and kicked aside
by the future explorer, who may perchance penetrate the labyrinths, and
whose dust will finally be mixed up and undistinguishable from that of
the bones and skulls taken from ancient cemeteries and graveyards with
which this terrible Golgotha is decorated in Mosaic.

CI.

The fire is out, let us contemplate the ruins.[112] The Commune is
vanquished. Look at Paris, sad, motionless, laid waste. This is what we
have come to! Consternation is in every breast, solitude is in every
street. We feel no longer either anger or pity; we are resigned, broken
by emotion; we see processions of prisoners pass on their way to
Versailles, and we scarcely look at them; no one thinks of saying
either, "Wretches!" or "Poor fellows!" The soldiers themselves are very
silent. Although they, are the victors they are sad; they do not drink,
they do not sing. Paris might be a town that had been assaulted and
taken by dumb enemies; the irritation has worn itself off, and the tears
have not yet come. The tricolour flags which float from all the windows
surprise us; there does not seem any reason for rejoicing. Yet, of late
especially, the triumph of the Versaillais has been ardently wished for
by the greater portion of the population; but all are so tired that they
have not the energy to rejoice. Let us look back for a moment. First the
siege, with famine, separation and poverty; then the insurrection of
Montmartre, surprises, hesitations, cannonading night and day, ceaseless
musketry, mothers in tears, sons pursued, every calamity has fallen on
this miserable city. It has been like Rome under Tiberius, then like
Rome after the barbarians had overrun it. The cannon balls have fallen
upon Sybaris. So much emotion, so many horrors have worn out the city;
and then all this blood, this dreadful blood. Corpses in the streets,
corpses within the houses, corpses everywhere! Of course they were
terribly guilty, these men that were taken, that were killed; they were
horrible criminals, those women who poured