eeping guard by the side of their cannon. Some go away on leave, or
disappear without leave; they make excursions beyond the ramparts, or
shut themselves up in the billiard-room of some cafe. Many make during
the course of the day frequent visits to the innumerable canteens, which
succeed each other almost without interruption along the Rue des
Ramparts. Here old women have lit a few sticks under a pot, and sell,
for a penny the glass, a horrible brew called 'petit noir,' composed of
sugar, eau de vie, and the grains of coffee, boiled up together. Behind
there is a line of cook shops, the proprietors of which announce that
they have been commissioned to provide food. These speculators offer for
sale greasy soup, slices of horse, and every species of alcoholic drink.
Each company has, too, its cantiniere, and round her cart there is
always a crowd. It seldom happens that more than one-half of the men of
the battalion are sober. Fortunately, the cold of the night air sobers
them. Between eight and nine in the evening there is a gathering in the
tent. A circle is formed in it round a single candle, and whilst the
flasks go round tale succeeds to song, and song to tale, until at length
all fall asleep, and are only interrupted in their slumbers until
morning by the corporal, who, once every hour, enters and calls out the
names of those who are to go on the watch. The abuse of strong drink
makes shameful ravages in our ranks, and is productive of serious
disorder. Few nights pass without false alarms, without shots foolishly
fired upon imaginary enemies, and without lamentable accidents. Every
night there are disputes, which often degenerate into fights, and then
in the morning, when explanations take place, these very explanations
are an excuse for recommencing drinking. Rules, indeed, are not wanting
to abate all this, but the misfortune is that they are never executed.
The indiscipline of the National Guard contrasts strangely with the
patriotism of their words. Most of the insubordination may be ascribed
to drunkenness, but the _mauvaise tenue_ which is so apparent in too
many battalions is due also to many other causes. The primary
organisation of the National Guard was ill-conceived and ill-executed,
and when the enrolments had been made, and the battalions formed, day
after day a fresh series of orders were promulgated, so diffuse, so
obscure, and so contradictory, that the officers, despairing to make
head or tail of t