During the armistice an election took place. The Assembly met at Bordeaux late in February, and steps were taken toward peace. All sorts of rumors were current as to the terms, and it was said that they were so severe that France must fight on at all hazards rather than accept them. Ten milliards, it was rumored, were to be paid (two thousand millions of dollars). Alsace and Lorraine and a French colony were to be given up, and a number of French men-of-war made over to Germany. The preliminaries were finally agreed upon: five milliards were to be paid, and Alsace and Lorraine transferred. German troops were to occupy Mount ValÉrien and to enter Paris, and hold a part of it until peace was definitively signed. The Crown Prince was reported to have been opposed to the troops entering the capital, as humiliating to the French, and not a military necessity; but he was overruled.

On the 1st of March I was awakened by military music. I had not heard any for a long time, the French bands having been broken up. I hurried out, and found that the Germans were entering Paris. First came the traditional Uhlans. The safety with which these troops rode in pairs through a great part of France was a curious feature of the war. They were followed by their supports. Then came a mixed band of about one thousand troops, representing all arms and the different German nationalities. They were sent as an advance-guard to secure and prepare the quarters assigned the troops by the maires. In the mean time, the Emperor was holding a review at Longchamps, on the very field where, three years and a half before, he had assisted at the review of sixty thousand French troops by the Emperor Napoleon, and it was not until the afternoon that the main body, the Prussian Guard, the Saxons, and the Bavarians, marched into the city. They occupied the quarter of the Champs ElysÉes, extending as far as the Place de la Concorde—in all about one-eighth of Paris.

This was a busy day for me. Mr. Washburne was overrun with concierges and servants complaining that the Prussians were occupying American apartments. I went to the mayor of the arrondissement. He said that he had quartered the Germans impartially upon all the householders; that the French law exempted apartments of an annual value of less than one hundred dollars; that in his arrondissement, as I knew, the apartments were either remarkably good or remarkably poor; that the good ones were occupied principally by foreigners, and that the poor ones were exempt. From the mayor I went to the German commander occupying the house of Queen Christine on the Champs ElysÉes, and was told at his head-quarters that they had nothing to say in the matter; that they had requisitioned a certain number of rooms from the French authorities, and that they must go where those authorities sent them, and had no right to go elsewhere; that it was then too late to make any change that day, but that if Mr. Washburne would find them quarters elsewhere, they would cheerfully vacate all American apartments the next day. In the mean time Washburne had been to Jules Favre. Favre told him that there was every prospect that the terms of peace would be accepted by the Assembly at Bordeaux that evening, and that the Germans, in accordance with the treaty, would leave Paris the next day. They were accepted that evening; but Bismarck wished to give as many German troops as possible an opportunity to enter Paris, and so refused to accept the telegraphic announcement of the acceptance of the treaty by the Assembly. The next day the written official notice arrived, and the day after Paris was evacuated. The Germans remained in Paris three days. They did no harm. I heard of nothing missing but a few blankets. By the terms of the treaty thirty thousand were to occupy Paris. It was rumored that the garrison was changed every night, and that ninety thousand entered in all.

The attitude of the people of Paris toward the conquerors was, upon the whole, excellent. They staid away from the occupied quarter, and minded their own business. In this quarter the shops were all closed, except a few restaurants and cafÉs that the Germans insisted should be opened. Some of these cafÉs were afterward gutted by the mob, which was rather hard on the owners, as they had been compelled to open them. But a mob is never just. Some few of the populace fraternized with the invaders, and were to be seen talking amicably with them; and some of the rougher element attempted to create a disturbance, but were soon overawed by the great numbers and martial bearing of the conquerors. While only thirty thousand were in Paris, there can be little doubt that a hundred thousand were within a half-hour's march, ready to enter to the assistance of their comrades if needed. Indeed, I imagine that all the troops who passed in review before the Emperor at Longchamps either occupied Paris, or were bivouacked in the Bois during the three days of the occupation.

They had come in very quietly, and with military precautions against surprise. They went out with a flourish of trumpets. They had bivouacked in large numbers about the Arch, and their camp-fires lighted up the inscriptions on that magnificent monument recording the victories of French over German arms. It certainly is most creditable to the conquerors that they did the Arch no harm. Few nations would have been so magnanimous. The weather was perfect, the night mild and balmy, the moon nearly full, and the beautiful German camp-songs, admirably sung, resounded in the stillness of the hour till ten o'clock struck, when perfect silence reigned in the camp. When the Germans entered Paris, they marched round the Arch; when they went out they took down the chains which inclose it, and every regiment of infantry and cavalry, and every battery of artillery passed directly under it, drums beating, colors flying, and the men cheering as they passed. They were gloriously repaid for the trials of the campaign.

Ten days passed after the surrender, and apparently the French authorities had made no provision to revictual Paris. There was no beef, to speak of, in the city, and very little mutton. The bread remained the same wretched dark stuff, one-third flour, two-thirds pease, beans, oats, rice, straw—in fact, any refuse. Delicious white bread, fresh butter, and eggs were to be bought of the German soldiers just beyond the barriers; and any one who took the trouble, and had the means, could procure these luxuries at reasonable prices. The peasants sold them to the German soldiers, and they were permitted to resell them at a small profit. The first train of provisions to enter Paris was sent by the citizens of London, to their credit be it spoken. Will it be believed that considerable difficulty was experienced in finding persons willing to take the trouble to distribute this food gratuitously? It was done to a very limited extent at the mairies. The great dry-goods establishment of the Bon MarchÉ distributed a portion; but much was stored in the Halles de l'Abondance for want of distribution, and burned up when that establishment was destroyed during the Commune. I remember hearing a Chauvin of the Assembly at Versailles pitch into the English for coming over after the Commune to visit Paris in her desolation. He was answered by Jules Favre, as happily as truly, that "the English, before they organized their trains of pleasure, had organized their trains of relief."

In this connection let me state that more than two millions of dollars were sent from the United States. At least two cargoes of provisions arrived at Havre, our Government supplying the vessels. No one could be found to distribute the supplies. The French are so government-ridden that they are unable to take the initiative in any thing for themselves. I have seen a strong, bold man, a guide in the Pyrenees, stand wringing his hands and crying, while his house was on fire, waiting for the soldiers to come and save his furniture and put out the flames. One of the shiploads of provisions I speak of was sent to London, sold there, and the proceeds distributed to the poor of France. Part of the relief sent was distributed through the Government, but experience showed this method to be slow—there was too much red-tape about it. The funds were finally placed in the hands of American ladies and gentlemen residing at Paris and Versailles, whose knowledge of France and acquaintance with French people gave them the means of making a judicious distribution. A part was expended by a committee of ladies, of which Madame MacMahon was the President; something was placed at the disposal of the Countess of Paris, out of regard for her husband, who had served in our army during the war; and a very large portion was distributed through the Sisters of Charity. Nothing could be more judicious, and at the same time more thoroughly business-like, than the manner in which these admirable women disposed of the money intrusted to them, rendering a voucher for every franc they expended. One felt that every penny in their hands had been placed where it was most needed, and would do most good.

Mr. Washburne left Paris early in February for Brussels, where his family were residing, and where, by-the-way, a very large number of our Parisian Americans had taken refuge. But he came back in a week, feeling quite poorly. He had been so overrun with visitors making inquiries or asking favors, that he had had no rest, and so returned to the lately beleaguered city for a little quiet. I remained until the Germans had made their triumphal entry, and their more triumphal departure, and then got leave and went to London to join my family.