The Popular Boulanger.

Gisborne Standard and Cook County Gazette, Volume I, Issue 15, 14 July 1887, Page 4

The Popular Boulanger.

In the course of his last article communicated from the Franco-German ' frontier, the “ special ” of the Pall Mall Gazette tells of his interview with General Boulanger, the Minister of War for France: —The first thing that strikes the English visitor to the French M.'nistere de la Guerre is the contrast it presents to the War Office. The latter is a iittle squat and dirty double house a dozen yards back from the Pallmall, in its interior both in condition and construction a huge rabbit warren, T tie former is a magnificent new stone building with broad flights of marble Steps, filled with frescoes and paintings, scarlet and gilt furniture, and suites of imposing reception rooms leading one in o another through large mahogany folding doors. Into the last of these suites I was shown to await the now famous French Minister. The moment he entered the room one saw clearly how mistaken is the common conception of his personality. He is a short man rather stoutly built, with brown hair, brown beard, rather a red face ; above all things quiet-looking almost to commonplaceness. His mother was an Englishwoman, his aunt is living at Lewes, and except for the slight point to his beard he himself would be taken for an Englishman anywhere. He wore the ordinary French civilian’s dress or black frock coat and trousers, with only the single red spot in his button-hole, This, by the way, was also the dress of half-a-dozen generals, who seemed to perform a sort of special duty by being present at the “ Ministere.” In manners General Boulanger is not more Striking thrn in appearance. He speaks slowly, F-e most soldi j, but without much gesture and without much force either of voice or language, appearing in the latter respect particularly by comparison with M. Clemenceau, who introduced me, and who has the rapid and peculiarly lucid and terse speech of the born French orator. Few people, by the way, know how literally General Boulanger has fought his way

from grade to grade, and from decoration to decoration. He is no arm-chair soldier, and his military career is summai’ .ed in his wounds. He was shot turough the chest at Turbigo in 1859; he was speared in the hip at T ria-dan in 1865 ; he was shot in the shoulder at Villers on November 30, 1870; and his elbow was broken by a ball in January, 1871. I desired, if possible, to induce General Boulanger to afford me facilities for visiting such military points on the frontier as would be inaccessible to the ordinary tourist, but which might yet be seen without affording a knowledge of any strategic or other secrets. This he promptly declared out of the question, for two reasons. “ They are,” he said, “in the first place, things which everybody may see, and in the second, things, which nobody may see. As regards the former you will be as well off without my

permission as with it. As regards the latter, if I were a commander of one of the frontier districts, ?nd a stranger came to me with a req ,est from the Minister of War to conduct him over my fortress, I should simply laugh at him. There is another thing, too,” he added, with a laugh ; “ I do not think for a moment any one will interefere with you; but if you should get into trouble of any kind—journalists do sometimes get into trouble, you know—and a letter from me should be found upon you, my enemies in the press and elsewhere would not hesitate to make capital out of the fact, and we should both of us suffer for it.” I was assured, however, that so far as regarded special war preparations nothhadbeen done by France. “It isour duty,” said the late Minister of War, “ to be ready for whatever may happen, but in the way of what may be called provocative preparations you may be quite certain you will find nothing whatever. As for those of nos amis les Prussians, when you get on their side, you will see what you will see.” I carried away the impression of a quiet, serious, determined man, with a clear conception of his own powers and purpose, without the vices of brilliance and with the invaluable virtues of mediocrity.