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Updated: June 21, 2025
With a considerable knowledge of French life and character, I confess I went to Mulhouse little prepared to find there a ferment of feeling which years have not sufficed to calm down. "Nous ne sommes pas heureux a Mulhouse" were almost the first words addressed to me by that veteran patriot and true philanthropist, Jean Dollfus. And how could it be otherwise?
But Hagenbach took no pains to win their friendship. His insolent fashion of referring to them as "fellows" or "rascals," added to acts of aggression, unchecked if not condoned by him, aroused bitter dislike to him in the confederated cantons, and in their allies, Berne, Mulhouse, etc.
The Berlin Börsenzeitung, which claims that with Metz, Strasburg, Mayence, Coblentz and Cologne, and with the enlargement of Ulm and Ingoldstadt and the new line of Bavarian defence, "Germany has a barrier of fortresses unequaled in the world," yet admits that the project of establishing a new German fortress near Mulhouse or Huningue, "so as to take the place of Belfort," has now been abandoned a fact which seems to show that there is one little loophole in the defensive armor of Germany, otherwise invulnerable.
One by one French pastors and priests are supplanted by their German brethren. A much respected pastor of Mulhouse, long resident in that city and ardently French, told me some years ago that he expected to be the last of his countrymen permitted to officiate. Police officers wearing plain clothes attend the churches in which French is still permitted on Sunday.
People take their pleasures very soberly. It is hardly possible to write of Mulhouse without consecrating a page or two to M. Jean Dollfus, a name already familiar to some English readers.
All round the town you find so-called cites ouvrieres, built on the model of those of Mulhouse; little streets of cheerful cottages, each with its bit of flower and vegetable-garden, where at least the workman has something to call a home after his day's labour.
At length the day was there on which Adrian Urmand was to come. It was his purpose to travel by Mulhouse and Remiremont, and Michel Voss drove over to the latter town to fetch him. It was felt by every one it could not be but felt that there was something special in his coming. His arrival now was not like the arrival of any one else.
The career of such a man forms part of contemporary history, and for sixty years the great cotton-printer of Mulhouse, the indefatigable philanthropist the fellow-worker with Cobden, Arles-Dufour, and others in the cause of Free Trade and the ardent patriot, had been before the world.
Donon on the north to the Belfort gap were seized; counter-thrusts by the Germans towards Spincourt and Blamont in the plain of Lorraine were parried; Thann was captured, Mulhouse was re-occupied, and the Germans looked like losing Alsace as far north as Colmar.
The roar of the motor drowned the noise of the explosions. Strangely enough, my feelings about it were wholly impersonal. We turned north after crossing the lines. Mulhouse seemed just below us, and I noted with a keen sense of satisfaction our invasion of real German territory. The Rhine, too, looked delightfully accessible.
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