dancing colonels at the Tuileries.

After the lapse of thirteen years, it is difficult to put the exact hour
and date to each exciting incident of a period which was absolutely
phenomenal throughout. I kept no diary, only a few rough notes, because
at that time I never thought of committing my recollections to paper,
and have, therefore, to trust almost wholly to my memory; nevertheless I
am positive as to main facts, whether witnessed by myself or
communicated to me by friends and acquaintances. I remember, for
instance, that, immediately after the declaration of war, I was warned
by my friends not to go abroad more than I could help, to keep away as
much as possible from crowds. "You are a foreigner," said one, "and that
will be sufficient for any ragamuffin, who wants to do you a bad turn,
to draw attention to you. By the time you have satisfactorily proved
your nationality you will be beaten black and blue, if not worse."

The advice was given on Friday, the 15th of July, about six in the
afternoon; that is, a few hours after the news of the scenes in the
Chamber of Deputies and the Senate had spread, and when the centre of
Paris was getting gradually congested with the inhabitants of the
faubourgs. My friends were men of culture and education, and not at all
likely to be carried away by the delirium which, on that same night and
for the next week, converted Paris into one vast lunatic asylum, whose
inmates had managed to throw off the control of their keepers; yet there
was not a single civilian among them who had a doubt about the eventual
victory of France, about her ability "to chastise the arrogance of the
King of Prussia," to put the matter in their own words.

"To try to be wise after the event" is a thing I particularly detest,
but I can honestly affirm that I did not share their confidence,
although I did not suspect for a moment that the defeat would be so
crushing as it was. I remembered many incidents that had happened during
the previous four years of which they seemed conveniently oblivious; I
was also aware, perhaps, of certain matters of which they were either
profoundly ignorant, or professed to be; but, above all, I took to heart
the advice, tendered in the shape of, "You are a foreigner;" and though
I feared no violence or even verbal recrimination on their part, I chose
to hold my tongue.

I hold no brief for the late Emperor, but I sincerely believe that he
was utterly averse to the war. I