At the beginning of the siege, one of the absorbing topics of discussion among the Parisians was the means of communication with the outer world. The French had always had a fancy for ballooning, and were probably in advance of the rest of the world in this respect. They now applied their experience to a practical use, and soon a service of mail balloons was organized, starting from Paris twice a week. At first they were dispatched in the afternoon, for the all-sufficient reason that they always had been dispatched in the afternoon; but soon they found that the balloon did not rise quickly enough to escape the bullets of the Prussians encamped upon the hills which surround Paris. So they changed the hour of departure to one in the morning. When daylight appeared they were beyond the Prussian lines. Indeed, the speed of the balloon is sometimes marvelous. Starting at one o'clock in the morning, one of them fell into the sea off the coast of Holland at daylight. The passengers were rescued by a fishing-smack. A second descended in Norway on the very morning it left Paris. The officer of the Post-office who was charged with the organization of this service told me that, of ninety-seven balloons that left Paris during the siege, ninety-four arrived safely; about equal to railway-trains in these latter days. Two fell into the hands of the enemy, and one was never heard of. It was supposed to have drifted out to sea and been lost. A balloon was seen off Eddystone Light-house. A few days afterward a gentleman spending the winter at Torquay received a letter from the rector at Land's End, Cornwall, stating that a number of letters had drifted ashore, supposed to have been lost from a balloon, and among them was one addressed to him; that it had been dried, and on receipt of twopence it would be sent him. It proved to be a balloon letter from me, and is still preserved as a souvenir of the siege and the sea.

Quite at the beginning of the siege a member of my own family received a letter from me, dispatched by the first balloon which left Paris. Its arrival created quite a sensation in the little Welsh watering-place where she was spending a part of the autumn. People stopped her in the street, and asked to see the "balloon letter." The natives evidently thought that it must have something of the balloon about it.

I recollect Worth's coming to the Legation one day—(and who does not know Worth? He rules the women throughout the civilized and toileted world; and through the women he rules the men, or their pockets at least). Worth was in great distress. His nephew had gone out in a balloon and been captured, and there were rumors that his life was in danger. I promised to ascertain his fate, if possible, and prepared a letter to Count Bismarck, which Mr. Washburne signed. Bismarck replied most promptly, as he always did. And here let me state that during the siege, at the request of anxious wives and parents, we often addressed inquiries to German Head-quarters to ascertain the fate of a husband or a son, and that these inquiries always received the promptest and kindest attention. To the inquiry about young Worth, Bismarck replied that he had been captured attempting to cross the Prussian lines in a balloon; that to cross the Prussian lines in the air was like crossing them on the land; and that the person caught attempting it would be similarly punished; that young Worth was in prison, and would be kept there for a few months, to teach others not to attempt the same thing; but that no other harm had happened, or would happen, to him. I sent for Worth, and read him the letter. He was much relieved, and expressed himself very grateful. Some years later a relative of mine took the material for a dress to Worth, and asked him to make it up. Think of the audacity of such a request! But Worth did it. If gratitude is to be measured not by the magnitude of the favor conferred, but by the sacrifice made by him who confers it, then Worth's gratitude stands out in unequaled grandeur.

But while with the help of balloons the Parisians managed very well to send letters from Paris, it was no easy task to receive them. The pigeon experiment proved a failure. No doubt pigeons can be trained to do their work tolerably well, and the French Government now has a large collection of carriers at the Jardin d'Acclimatation. But during the siege very few succeeded in reaching home. A carrier will scarcely ever make a two days' journey. If night overtakes him, he goes astray, misled perhaps by siren wood-pigeons. In winter, too, the days are short, snow-storms blind him, and hawks pounce upon him. One of the canards circulated in Paris was that the Prussians trained hawks for this purpose. The instinct of the animal, too, seems to teach it to fly northward only. Two or three times a carrier arrived safely, bringing with it one of those marvels of scientific skill, a photographic letter. The microscope revealed the contents of a good-sized newspaper transferred to a scrap of paper that a pigeon could carry under its wing.

Some of the French residing in London took advantage of the "agony column" of the Times to send news to their friends. They had faith in the ubiquity of the great journal, and their faith was rewarded. I doubt if you could so hedge in a city that the Times would not penetrate it. Our Legation in London sent it to us. I received one number a week. In it I found multitudes of priÈres addressed to Mr. Washburne, and some to myself, begging us to inform Mr. So-and-so, or Madame Blank, that their wife, or husband, or children, were at such and such a place, and all well. When these messages were purely personal, we delivered them. If they were in cipher, or susceptible of a double meaning, we did not. I remember finding a message in cipher, and addressed to the Minister of War. I not only did not deliver it, but I burned it for fear that the favor of receiving our letters and papers accorded us by the German Government might be abused. About two days before the jour de l'an, I received a Times of December 23d, for the Germans purposely delayed our bag, probably that the news, should it become known to the French Government, might not be acted on by it, to the detriment of German military operations. The "agony column" was full of messages to besieged relatives. I thought that the Parisians could receive no more acceptable presents for their New-year's-day, so I copied all the messages which had addresses and sent them by mail. But some had no addresses. How the writers ever expected them to reach their destinations, I do not understand. I copied them too, however, and sent them to the Gaulois. On New-year's morning that journal published them. In a few days it received grateful letters, thanking the editors warmly, and offering to pay a share of the expense, "which must have been great." The Gaulois replied, declining all payment, but modestly assuming great credit to itself for its "unparalleled enterprise," and assuring its correspondents that it should continue to spare no expense to procure them news of their families.

The Prussian officers, too, at head-quarters not unfrequently sent in letters, with the request that we would distribute them. I remember once receiving from Count Solms, who had been chargÉ d'affaires at Paris after the departure of the Embassador, a letter forwarded by him, without address, without signature, and without date. I waited a few days, thinking that other letters might refer to it, and that the owner would call and claim it. No one came. As the difficulties increased, of course I was the more determined to trace out the owner. Every thing else failing, I read the letter, to try to obtain a clue. Fortunately, I found the name of Mr. Henri Blount. I knew Mr. Blount, and knew that his father was in Paris. I wrote him, and told him the circumstances. He replied that if I would trust him with the letter, he thought that he could find the owner. He took it to the Jockey Club at dinner-time, and asked if there was any gentleman there whose name was Charles, and whose wife's name was Anna. A gentleman immediately claimed it, but after a glance reluctantly gave it up. Another claimed it, and turned out to be the right man.

I had rather an amusing correspondence with Count Solms in reference to this letter and other matters. I give two or three of the letters which passed between us, as showing that we contrived to enjoy ourselves after a fashion in Paris, notwithstanding the rigors of the siege. I give the letters as written. One of them is, perhaps, better adapted to the French language than to its more austere sister English.

To be in exclusive receipt of news during a siege is gratifying to one's vanity, but it has its decidedly disagreeable side. I doubt if the siege were to begin again if Mr. Washburne would accept a bag containing any thing but his official dispatches and his family letters. If we gave the Parisians news, they said that we gave them only bad news. If we withheld it, they said that we were withholding the news of French victories. I speak of what was said in the workmen's clubs, and by the inferior press; the better classes and the more respectable newspapers found no fault. Then General Moltke complained that we abused our privilege. His scouts had intercepted a balloon letter, in which the writer spoke of the facility of receiving letters through the Legation, and instructed her correspondent to write under cover to me. That clever writer, too, LabouchÈre, "The Besieged Resident," told in the columns of the Daily News how small a matter it was to be shut up in Paris. "Go to the Legation of the United States on any day, and there you find the latest London journals lying on the table." All this was nuts to General Moltke, for he had opposed our receiving our bag, but had been overruled by the King on the request of Count Bismarck. Bismarck wrote to Mr. Washburne, calling his attention to Moltke's complaint. Washburne replied. After stating the circumstances under which I had authorized a letter to be sent under cover to me, for an American lady whose daughter was sick with the small-pox at Brussels, he proceeded to say that both he and I had endeavored honorably to discharge our duties as neutrals; that we had acted according to the best of our judgments under this sense of duty; that we proposed to continue to act as we had done; and that if the German authorities could not trust us, they had better stop the bag altogether, with the exception, of course, of the dispatches from our Government. At the same time he sent back nearly five hundred letters which had been sent us without authority, and which had not been delivered, as the best possible proof that he had not abused his privilege. Washburne's letter concluded as follows:

Bismarck replied with an apology. He said he knew that the privilege accorded us had not been abused, and he was satisfied that it would not be; that the military authorities had called his attention to this matter, and that it was therefore his duty to call Mr. Washburne's attention to it; that the bag would continue to be sent as usual; and that he returned the five hundred letters, with full authority to Mr. Washburne to deliver them if he saw fit. I heard afterward that Bismarck was delighted with Washburne's letter, and took special pleasure in sending a copy to General Moltke.