a Renaissance
opposite the Fontaine Saint-Michel, at which establishment the Commune
may be said to have been hatched. It was there that, in 1866, Raoul
Rigault, Longuet, the brothers Levraud, Dacosta, Genton, Protot, and a
dozen more were arrested by the Commissary of Police, M. Clement.

That night, about eight o'clock, we crossed the Pont Saint-Michel, and,
in a minute or so, found ourselves amidst some of the shining lights of
the Commune.

Save on review days I had never seen so many brilliant uniforms gathered
together. As far as I can recollect, there was only one civilian in the
group pointed out to me. He looked a mere skeleton, was misshapen, and
one of the ugliest men I have ever met. I asked his name, and was told
it was Tridon. The name was perfectly familiar to me as belonging to one
of the most remarkable polemists during the late regime. A little while
afterwards, Cluseret came in.

My friend introduced me, and we sat talking for more than two hours; and
I have rarely been more interested than I was that night. Cluseret spoke
English very well, for he had been in America several years, and our
conversation was carried on in that language. I have already remarked
that I had no intention, at that time, to jot down my recollections,
still I was so impressed with what I had heard that I made some rough
memoranda when I got home. They are among the papers I have preserved.

Cluseret fostered no illusions as to the final upshot of the Commune.
"If every man were as devoted to the cause as Kossuth and Garibaldi were
to theirs, we should not be able to establish a permanent Commune; but
this is by no means the case. Most of the leaders, even those who are
not self-seekers, are too visionary in their aims; they will not abate
one jot of their ideal. The others think of nothing but their own
aggrandisement, and though many are no doubt capable to a degree, they
are absolutely useless for the posts they have chosen for themselves.
There are certainly exceptions; such as, for instance, Rossel. His
technical knowledge is very considerable. If I had to describe him in
two words, I should call him Lothario-Cromwell. For, notwithstanding his
military aptitudes and his Puritan stiffness in many things, he has too
many petticoats about him. In addition to this, he is overbearing and
absolutely eaten up with ambition; he is a republican who despises the
proletariat; he would fain imitate the axiom of Napoleon I., 'The t