We were blessed with an abundance of charcoal for cooking purposes, and of
coals and wood for ordinary fires, having at our disposal not only the
store in our own cellars, but that which the Chateaubriand family had left
behind. The cold weather set in very soon, and firing was speedily in
great demand. Our artist Jules Pelcoq, who lived in the Rue Lepic at
Montmartre, found himself reduced to great straits in this respect,
nothing being procurable at the dealers' excepting virtually green wood
which had been felled a short time previously in the Bois de Boulogne and
Bois de Vincennes. On a couple of occasions Pelcoq and I carried some
coals in bags to his flat, and my father, being anxious for his comfort,
wished to provide him with a larger supply. Saby was therefore
requisitioned to procure a man who would undertake to convey some coals in
a handcart to Montmartre. The man was found, and paid for his services in
advance. But alas! the coals never reached poor Pelcoq. When we next saw
the man who had been engaged, he told us that he had been intercepted on
his way by some National Guards, who had asked him what his load was, and,
on discovering that it consisted of coals, had promptly confiscated them
and the barrow also, dragging the latter to some bivouac on the ramparts.
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