make sorties without field artillery, and that he is neither responsible
for the capitulation of Metz, nor the rout the other day at Bourget.
What, then, say his opponents with some truth, was your wonderful plan?
Why did you put your name to proclamations which called upon us, if we
could not conquer, at least to die? Why did you imprison as calumniators
those who published news from the provinces, which you now admit is
true? It is by no means easy for him or his colleagues to reply to these
questions.

General Bellemare has been suspended. He, it appears, is to be the
scapegoat of the Bourget affair. I hear from the Quartier-General that
the real reason why the artillery did not arrive in time to hold this
position was, not because Bellemare did not ask for it, but because he
could not get it. Red tape and routine played their old game. From St.
Denis none could be sent, because St. Denis is within the "territorial
defence of Paris," and Bourget is not. In vain Bellemare's officers went
here and there. They were sent from pillar to post, from one aged
General to another, and at eleven o'clock on the day when Bourget was
taken, after the troops had been driven out of it, the artillery, every
formality having been gone through, was on its way to the village. It is
pleasant, whilst one is cut off from the outer world, to be reminded by
these little traits of one's native land, its War-Office and its
Horse-Guards.

I was out yesterday afternoon along our southern advanced posts. A few
stray shots were occasionally fired by Francs-tireurs; but there seemed
to be a tacit understanding that no offensive operations should take
place. The fall of the leaves enables us to distinguish clearly the
earthworks and the redoubts which the Prussians have thrown up. I am not
a military man, but my civilian mind cannot comprehend why Vanves and
Montrouge do not destroy with their fire the houses occupied on the
plateau of Chatillon by the Prussians. I asked an officer, who was
standing before Vanves, why they did not. He shrugged his shoulders, and
said, "It is part of the plan, I suppose." Trochu is respected by the
troops, but they have little confidence in his skill as a commander. In
the evening I went to the Club Rue d'Arras, which is presided over by
the "venerable" Blanqui in person, and where the Ultras of the Ultras
congregate. The club is a large square room, with a gallery at one end
and a long tribune at the other. On ente