A DIPLOMAT’S MEMOIR OF 1870 Being the Account of a Balloon Escape from the Siege of Paris and a Political Mission to London and Vienna by FREDERIC REITLINGER Private Secretary to M. Jules Favre, Vice-President of the Provisional Government of 1870; Avocat of the Cour d’Appel, Paris Translated from the French, by his Nephew, HENRY REITLINGER M.A. King’s Coll. Camb. LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS 1915...

At a time when Englishmen and Frenchmen are brothers-in-arms, a translation of this curious and little known narrative may be of interest. It is a record of a somewhat remarkable episode in a stormy and remarkable year. It describes, possibly not without the inevitable bias of one sent on a forlorn hope, the necessary refusals of Gladstone and Lord Granville to intervene in favour of France. But, as the writer quite prophetically declares, the surrender of Alsace-Lorraine and the aggrandisement

It was the last week in the month of October, 1870. M. Jules Favre, at that time Vice-President and Minister for Foreign Affairs in the National Defence Government, summoned me to his office in the Quai d’Orsay and said: “You will find it very strange, but since yesterday I have changed my mind. I now wish to entrust you with another mission. I want you to go to Vienna and London. The last news which has reached us makes me hope for a change of public opinion in Europe. There is beginning to be

Our departure from Paris was fixed for the 28th of October, at nine in the morning. It was a beautifully fresh and clear day. The sky was cloudless and the sun sent its fairest rays over the earth, while an icy wind swept the calm and deserted streets of the capital. In spite of the early hour there were already many people standing round the balloon, which was being inflated. Two or three hundred of the curious had come to watch our departure. When I arrived the balloon was filling slowly and p

We were, however, all three very glad and proud of our journey. We were in excellent spirits, and our hearts beat more rapidly at the thought of doing something for the wonderful defence of the great besieged city and of taking our share in the common effort. We did not even think of danger, and not one of us would have stopped to consider for a moment the defective equipment and slightly precarious nature of our conveyance. We were entirely given up to our enterprise and to the magnificent spec

This was the end of the peaceful part of our voyage and the prelude of a new and more exciting phase. The wind, whistling ceaselessly, finished by somewhere picking up a few clouds which had been almost imperceptible in the four corners of the horizon. The balloon’s course began to be less regular; sometimes it jumped in a disquieting manner, and our barometer then showed variations of one thousand yards in a few minutes. Once we were even so near the earth that we were able to speak to peasants

I will try and set down what I saw. The balloon was above the tempest that was forming; the storm was in preparation, so to speak, under our eyes. The sky above our heads did not change in aspect, but remained placid and transparently blue. We were therefore floating over the clouds, with a full view of the storm beneath us and the unclouded sun above us. It was a dazzling contrast; over our heads was the golden and intense brilliance of an unclouded blue sky, the transparent azure of pure air i

The danger was here, and our position seemed absolutely desperate. Death is not the most fearful thing in the destinies of man. It was when we first embarked on the “Vauban” that we offered the sacrifice of our lives, knowing perfectly well that we were exposing ourselves to the danger of falling on the road. We had, therefore, foreseen the possibility of death; but to die torn by a blind force, to be dragged over trees and not to know if the branches will first wrench off your head or your arms

As a rule I am bad at topography, and do not easily find my way in places that I see for the first time. But my faculties had been made keen by danger during our aerial voyage and my sustained attention remembered everything that my eyes had seen. The second time the balloon rose above the forest I had, from my elevated perch, observed a fairly broad path across the wood, which looked as if it might lead to some neighbouring village. I kept this path in my memory and, while our balloon was engag

The distance we now had to go was very much shorter, but it was also more difficult, and we only arrived at the frontier the next morning, between ten and eleven. Had it not been for the intelligence and devotion of M. Thiébeaux and his friend M. Charles Jeannot, we should not have arrived at all. It was a long, slow and painful journey, a regular Odyssey, across country entirely occupied by the enemy. It is not my purpose in this short narrative to tell of its events and adventures ... that wou

Before leaving for Austria, I had to go to Tours, where the Delegates of the National Defence Government were at this time sitting. I had therefore to go back to France, and could only do so by going a long way round. Part of the north was already occupied. The trains no longer went regularly, and in order to get from Brussels to Tours I had to slip through a great many obstacles and often leave the railway and have recourse to carriages. There was no lack of episodes on the road, but they were

My first stopping-place was the Grand Duchy of Baden, then Wurtemburg and, finally, Bavaria. I was everywhere able to confirm that our Government had received untrue reports and even untruer interpretations with regard to these countries. It was true that everyone was weary of the war and the sacrifices of men and money which the country was making; everyone deplored the complete stoppage of industry and commerce, and the misery which was its consequence, and everyone ardently desired the end of

From the first day of my arrival, it was clear to me that the good people of Austria were with us in their hearts and were praying for our success—but that was all. Our Ambassador, who was to present me to the Imperial Chancellor, did not leave me in ignorance that the Imperial Court had made its decision, and that I could obtain nothing from the Austrian Cabinet. The latter was firmly resolved not to depart from the most strict and absolute neutrality. I was not long in convincing myself that t

In the absence of our Ambassador, the Embassy in London had been since the 4th of December under the charge of the First Secretary, and it was this gentleman who presented me to Lord Granville. He warned me, just as our Ambassador in Vienna had done, not to harbour any illusions; nothing was to be obtained from England. The English Cabinet was absolutely decided not to deviate from the strictest neutrality, and all efforts to make them leave it would be waste of time. This was just at the time o

I began by telling him of the situation in France, comparing its actual condition with that of the days before the 4th of September. I tried to show him what had been done since the disaster of Sedan, from the fall of the Empire and the coming of the Republic till the present moment. I pointed out—and he agreed—that after Sedan France was face to face with despair. She was in chaos, in the void; nothing remained; everything had to be recreated. Paris was without arms and soldiers. The provinces

I have been scrupulously exact in reporting nearly all the essential parts of my conversation with Lord Granville. I should like to do as much for the long interview which I had later with Mr. Gladstone, at that time Prime Minister in the English Cabinet. The words of this eminent statesman are all of them imbued with a special character, which renders them in the highest degree interesting, even when they ran counter to my wishes. However, “est modus in rebus” and one must know when to stop in