Illustration:Hotel de Ville, As Fortified by the National Guard, March, 1871.
Hotel de Ville, As Fortified by the National Guard, March, 1871.
The Hôtel de Ville of Paris, Which Witnessed So Many National Ceremonies and Republican Triumphs, Was Commenced in 1533, And It Was Finished in 1628. Here the First Bourbon, Henry Iv., Celebrated His Entry Into Paris After the Siege of 1589, and Bailly The maire, On The 17th July, 1789, Presented Louis Xvi. To the People, Wearing A Tricolor Cockade. Henry Iv. Became a Catholic in Order to Enter “his Good City of Paris” Whilst Louis Xvi. Wore the Democratic Insignia In Order to Keep It. A Few Days Later the 172 Commissioners of Sections, Representing the Municipality of Paris, Established The Commune. The Hôtel de Ville Was the Seat of The First Committee Of Public Safety, And From the Green Chamber, Robespierre Governed The Convention and France Till his Fall on the 9th Thermidor. From 1800 to 1830 Fêtes Held The Place of Political Manifestations. In 1810 Bonaparte Received Marie-Louise Here; in 1821, the Baptism of The Duke Of Bordeaux Was Celebrated Here; in 1825 Fêtes Were Given to the Duc D’angouleme on His Return from Spain, and to Charles X., Arriving From Rheims. Five Years Later, from the Same Balcony Where Bailly Presented Louis Xvi. To The People, Lafayette, Standing by the Side of Louis Philippe, Said, “this Is the Best of Republics!” It Was Here, in 1848, That de Lamartine Courageously Declared to an Infuriated Mob That, As Long As he Lived, The Red Flag Should Not Be the Flag of France. During The Fatal Days Of June, 1848, the Hôtel de Ville Was Only Saved from Destruction by The Intrepidity of a Few Brave Men. The Queen Of England Was Received Here In 1865, and the Sovereigns Who Visited Paris Since Have Been Fêted Therein. On the 4th of September The Bloodless Revolution Was Proclaimed; and on the 31st of October, 1870, And The 22nd Of January, 1871, Flourens and Blanqui Made a Fruitless Attempt to Substitute The Red Flag for the Tricolor; But Their Partisans Succeeded on The 18th Of March, when It Was Fortified, and Became the Head-quarters of The Commune of 1871.
As soon as they had halted, an officer of the National Guard seized General Clément Thomas by the collar of his coat and shook him violently several times, exclaiming, whilst he held the muzzle of a revolver close to his throat,—“Confess that you have betrayed the Republic.” To this Monsieur Clément Thomas only replied by a shrug of his shoulders; upon this the officer retired, leaving the General standing alone in the front of the wall, with a line of soldiers opposite.
Who gave the signal to fire is unknown, but a report of twenty muskets rent the air, and General Clément Thomas fell with his face to the earth.
“It is your turn now,” said one of the assassins, addressing General Lecomte, who immediately advanced from the crowd, stepping over the body of Clément Thomas to take his place, awaiting with his back to the wall the fatal moment.
“Fire!” cried the officer, and all was over.
Half an hour after, in the Rue des Acacias, I came across an old woman who wanted three francs for a bullet—a bullet she had extracted from the plaster of a wall at the end of the Rue des Rosiers.
It is ten o’clock in the evening, and if I were not so tired I would go to the Hôtel de Ville, which, I am told, has been taken possession of by the National Guards; the 18th of March is continuing the 31st of October. But the events of this day have made me so weary that I can hardly write all I have seen and heard. On the outer boulevards the wine shops are crowded with tipsy people, the drunken braggarts who boast they have made a revolution. When a stroke succeeds there are plenty of rascals ready to say: I did it. Drinking, singing, and talking are the order of the day. At every step you come upon “piled arms.” At the corner of the Passage de l’Elysée-des-Beaux-Arts I met crowds of people, some lying on the ground; here a battalion standing at ease but ready to march; and at the entrance of the Rue Blanche and the Rue Fontaine were some stones, ominously posed one on the other, indicating symptoms of a barricade. In the Rue des Abbesses I counted three cannons and a mitrailleuse, menacing the Rue des Martyrs. In the Rue des Acacias, a man had been arrested, and was being conducted by National Guards to the guard-house: I heard he was a thief. Such arrests are characteristic features in a Parisian émeute. Notwithstanding these little scenes the disorder is not excessive, and but for the multitude of men in uniform one might believe it the evening of a popular fête; the victors are amusing themselves.
Illustration:Sentinels, Rue du Val de Grâce and Boulevard St. Michel
Sentinels, Rue du Val de Grâce and Boulevard St. Michel
Among the Federals this evening there are very few linesmen; perhaps they have gone to their barracks to enjoy their meal of soup and bread.
Upon the main boulevards noisy groups are commenting upon the events of the day. At the corner of the Rue Drouot an officer of the 117th Battalion is reading in a loud voice, or rather reciting, for he knows it all by heart, the proclamation of M. Picard, the official poster of the afternoon.
“The Government appeals to you to defend your city, your home, your children, and your property.“Some frenzied men, commanded by unknown chiefs, direct against Paris the guns defended from, the Prussians.“They oppose force to the National Guard and the army.“Will you suffer it?“Will you, under the eyes of the strangers ready to profit by our discord, abandon Paris to sedition?“If you do not extinguish it in the germ, the Republic and France will be ruined for ever.“Their destiny is in your hands.“The Government desires that you should hold your arms energetically to maintain the law and preserve the Republic from anarchy. Gather round your leaders; it is the only means of escaping ruin and the domination of the foreigner.
“The Minister of the Interior,“ERNEST PICARD.”
The crowd listened with attention, shouted two or three times “To arms!” and then dispersed—I thought for an instant, to arm themselves, though in reality it was only to reinforce another group forming on the other side of the way.
This day the Friends of Order have been very apathetic, so much so that Paris is divided between two parties: the one active and the other passive.
To speak truly, I do not know what the population of Paris could have done to resist the insurrection. “Gather round your chiefs,” says the proclamation. This is more easily said than done, when we do not know what has become of them. The division caused in the National Guard by the Coup d’Etat of the Central Committee had for its consequence the disorganisation of all command. Who was to distinguish, and where was one to find the officers that had remained faithful to the cause of order?
It is true they sounded the “rappel”[11]and beat the “générale”;[12]but who commanded it? Was it the regular Government or the revolutionary Committee?
More than one good citizen was ready to do his duty; but, after having put on his uniform and buckled his belt, he felt very puzzled, afraid of aiding the entente instead of strengthening the defenders of the law. Therefore the peaceful citizen soldiers regarded not the call of the trumpet and the drum.
It is wise to stay at home when one knows not where to go. Besides, the line has not replied, and bad examples are contagious; moreover, is it fair to demand of fathers of families, of merchants and tradesmen, in fact of soldiers of necessity, an effort before which professional soldiers withdraw? The fact is the Government had fled. Perhaps a few ministers still remained in Paris, but the main body had gone to join the Assembly at Versailles.
I do not blame their somewhat precipitate departure,[13]perhaps it was necessary; nevertheless it seems to me that their presence would have put an end to irresolution on the part of timid people.
Meanwhile, from the Madeleine to the Gymnase, the cafés overflowed with swells and idlers of both sexes. On the outer boulevards they got drunk, and on the inner tipsy, the only difference being in the quality of the liquors imbibed.
What an extraordinary people are the French!
NOTES:
[11]The roll call.
[12]Muster call in time of danger, which is beaten only by a superior order emanating from the Commander-in-chief in a stronghold or garrison town.
[13]The army of Paris was drawn off to Versailles in the night of the 18th of March, and on the 19th, the employés of all the ministries and public offices left Paris for the same destination.On the 19th of March, as early as eight in the morning, Monsieur Thiers addressed the following circular to the authorities of all the departments:—“The whole of the Government is assembled at Versailles: the National Assembly will meet there also.“The army, to the number of forty thousand men, has been assembled there in good order, under the command of General Vinoy. All the chiefs of the army, and all the civil authorities have arrived there.“The civil and military authorities will execute no other orders but those issued by the legitimate government residing at Versailles, under penalty of dismissal.“The members of the National Assembly are all requested to hasten their return, so as to be present at the sitting of the 20th of March.“The present despatch will be made known to the public.
“A. THIERS.”
Next morning, the 19th of March, I was in haste to know the events of last night, what attitude Paris had assumed after her first surprise. The night, doubtless, had brought counsel, and perhaps settled the discord existing between the Government and the Central Committee.
Early in the morning things appeared much as usual; the streets were peaceful, servants shopping, and the ordinary passengers going to and fro. In passing I met a casual acquaintance to whom I had spoken now and then, a man with whom I had served during the siege when we mounted guard on the ramparts. “Well,” said I, “good morning, have you any news?”—“News,” replied he, “no, not that I know of. Ah I yes, there is a rumour that something took place yesterday at Montmartre.” This was told me in the centre of the city, in the Rue de la Grange-Batelière. Truly there are in Paris persons marvellously apathetic and ignorant. I would wager not a little that by searching in the retired quarters, some might be found who believe they are still governed by Napoleon III., and have never heard of the war with Prussia, except as a not improbable eventuality.
On the boulevards there was but little excitement. The newspaper vendors were in plenty. I do not like to depend upon these public sheets for information, for however impartial or sincere a reporter may be, he cannot represent facts otherwise than according to the impression they make upon him, and to value facts by the impression they make upon others is next to impossible.
I directed my steps to the Rue Drouot in search of placards, and plentiful I found them, and white too, showing that Paris was not without a government; for white is the official colour even under a red Republic.[14]
Taking out a pencil I copied hastily the proclamation of the new masters, and I think that I did well, for we forget very quickly both proclamations and persons. Where are they now, the official bills of last year?
“RÉPUBLIQUE FRANÇAISE.“Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.”To the People.
“Citizens,—The people of Paris have shaken off the yoke endeavoured to be imposed upon them.”
What yoke, gentlemen—I beg pardon, citizens of the Committee? I assure you, as part of the people, that I have never felt that any one has tried to impose one upon me. I recollect, if my memory serves me, that a few guns were spoken of, but nothing about yokes. Then the expression “People of Paris,” is a gross exaggeration. The inhabitants of Montmartre and their neighbours of that industrious suburb are certainly a part of the people, and not the less respectable or worthy of our consideration because they live out of the centre (indeed, I have always preferred a coal man of the Chaussée Clignancourt to a coxcomb of the Rue Taitbout); but for all that, they are not the whole population. Thus, your sentence does not imply anything, and moreover, with all its superannuated metaphor, the rhetoric is out of date. I think it would have been better to say simply—
“Citizens,—The inhabitants of Montmartre and of Belleville have taken their guns and intend to keep them.”
But then it would not have the air of a proclamation. Extraordinary fact! you may overturn an entire country, but you must not touch the official style; it is immutable. One may triumph over empires, but must respect red tape. Let us read on:
“Tranquil, calm in our force, we have awaited without fear as without provocation, the shameless madmen who menaced the Republic.”
The Republic? Again an improper expression, it was the cannons they wanted to take.
“This time, our brothers of the army....”
Ah! your brothers of the army! They are your brothers because they fraternised and threw up the butt-ends of their muskets. In your family you acknowledge no brotherhood except those who hold the same opinion.
“This time, our brothers of the army would not raise their hands against the holy ark of our liberty.”
Oh! So the guns are a holy ark now. A very holy metaphor, for people not greatly enamoured of churchmen.
“Thanks for all; and let Paris and France unite to build a Republic, and accept with acclamations the only government that will close for ever the flood gates of invasion and civil war.“The state of siege is raised.“The people of Paris are convoked in their sections to elect a Commune. The safety of all citizens is assured by the body of the National Guard.“Hôtel de Ville of Paris, the 19th of March, 1871.“The Central Committee of the National Guard:“Assy, Billioray, Ferrat, Babick, Ed. Moreau, Oh. Dupont, Varlin, Boursier, Mortier, Gouhier, Lavallette, Fr. Jourde, Rousseau, Ch. Lullier, Blanchet, G. Gaillard, Barroud, H. Geresme, Fabre, Pougeret.”[15]
There is one reproach that the new Parisian Revolution could not be charged with; it is that of having placed at the head men of proved incapacity. Those who dared to assert that each of the persons named above had not more genius than would be required to regenerate two or three nations would greatly astonish me. In a drama of Victor Hugo it is said a parentless child ought to be deemed a gentleman; thus an obscure individual ought, on the same terms, to be considered a man of genius.
But on the walls of the Rue Drouot many more proclamations were to be seen.
“RÉPUBLIQUE FRANÇAISE.“LIBERTÉ, EGALITÉ, FRATERNITÉ,“To the National Guards of Paris.
“CITIZENS,—You had entrusted us with the charge of organising the defence of Paris and of your rights.”
Oh! as to that, no; a thousand times, no! I admit—since you appear to cling to it—that Cannon are an ark of strength, but under no pretext whatever will I allow that I entrusted you with the charge of organising anything whatsoever. I know nothing of you; I have never heard you spoken of. There is no one in the world of whom I am more ignorant than Ferrat, Babick, unless it be Gaillard and Pougeret (though I was national guard myself, and caught cold on the ramparts for the King of Prussia[16]as much as anyone else). I neither know what you wish nor where you are leading those who follow you; and I can prove to you, if you like, that there are at least a hundred thousand men who caught cold too, and who, at the present moment, are in exactly the same state of mind concerning you “We are aware of having fulfilled our mission.”
You are very good to have taken so much trouble, but I have no recollection of having given you a mission to fulfil of any kind whatever!
“Assisted by your courage and presence of mind!...”
Ah, gentlemen, this is flattery!
“We have driven out the government that was betraying you.“Our mandate has now expired...”
Always this same mandate which we gave you, eh?
“We now return it to you, for we do not pretend to take the place of those which the popular breath has overthrown.“Prepare yourselves, let the Communal election commence forthwith, and give to us the only reward we have ever hoped for—that of seeing the establishment of a true republic. In the meanwhile we retain the Hôtel de Ville in the name of the people.“Hôtel de Ville, Paris, 19th March, 1871.“The Central Committee of the National Guards:“Assy, Billioray, and others.”
Placarded up also is another proclamation[17]signed by the citizens Assy, Billioray, and others, announcing that the Communal elections will take place on Wednesday next, 22nd of March, that is to say in three days.
This then is the result of yesterday’s doings, and the revolution of the 18th March can be told in a few words.
There were cannon at Montmartre; the Government wished to take them but was not able, thanks to the fraternal feeling and cowardice of the soldiers of the Line. A secret society, composed of several delegates of several battalions, took advantage of the occasion to assert loudly that they represented the entire population, and commanded the people to elect the Commune of Paris—whether they wished or not.
What will Paris do now between these dictators, sprung from heaven knows where, and the Government fled to Versailles?
NOTES:
[14]No one may use white placards—they are reserved by the government.The following is an extract from theOfficial Journalof Versailles, bearing the date of the 20th of March, which explains the official form of the announcements made by the Central Committee:—“Yesterday, 19th March, the offices of theOfficial Journal, in Paris, were broken into, the employés having escaped to Versailles with the documents, to join the Government and the National Assembly. The invaders took possession of the printing machines, the materials, and even the official and non-official articles which had been set up in type, and remained in the composing-rooms. It is thus that they were enabled to give an appearance of regularity to the publication of their decrees, and to deceive the Parisian public by a falseOfficial Journal.”
[15]Here is an extract from theOfficial Journalupon the subject (numbers of the 29th March and 1st June):—“In the insurrection, the momentary triumph of which has crushed Paris beneath so odious and humiliating a yoke, carried the distresses of France to their height, and put civilisation in peril, the International Society has borne a part which has suddenly revealed to all the fatal power of this dangerous association.“On the 19th of March, the day after the outbreak of the terrible sedition, of which the last horrors will form one of the most frightful pages in history, there appeared upon the walls a placard which made known to Paris the names of its new masters.“With the exception of one, alone, (Assy), who had acquired a deplorable notoriety, these names were unknown to almost all who read them; they had suddenly emerged from utter obscurity, and people asked themselves with astonishment, with stupor, what unseen power could have given them an influence and a meaning which they did not possess in themselves. This power was the International; these names were those of some of its members.”
[16]Travailler pour le Roi de Prusse, “to work for the King of Prussia,” is an old French saying, which means to work for nothing, to no purpose.
[17]“THE CENTRAL COMMITTEE OF THE NATIONAL GUARD.“Inasmuch:—“That it is most urgent that the Communal administration of the City of Paris shall be formed immediately,“Decrees:—“1st. The elections for the Communal Council of the City of Paris will take place on Wednesday next, the 22nd of March.“2nd. The electors will vote with lists, and in their own arrondissements.Each arrondissement will elect a councillor for each twenty thousand of inhabitants, and an extra one for a surplus of more than ten thousand.3rd. The poll will be open from eight in the morning to six in the evening. The result will be made known at once.4th. The municipalities of the twenty arrondissements are entrusted with the proper execution of the present decree.A placard indicating the number of councillors for each arrondissement will shortly be posted up.“Hôtel de Ville, Paris, 29th March, 1871.”
Paris remains inactive, and watches events as one watches running water. What does this indifference spring from? Surprise and the disappearance of the chiefs might yesterday have excused the inaction of Paris, but twenty-four hours have passed over, every man has interrogated his conscience, and been able to listen to its answer. There has been time to reconnoitre, to concert together; there would have been time to act!
Why is nothing done? Why has nothing been done yet? Generals Clément Thomas and Lecomte have been assassinated; this is as incontestable as it is odious. Does all Paris wish to partake with the criminals in the responsibility of this crime? The regular Government has been expelled. Does Paris consent to this expulsion? Men invested with no rights, or, at least, with insufficient rights, have usurped the power. Does Paris so far forget itself as to submit to this usurpation without resistance?
No, most assuredly no. Paris abominates crime, does not approve of the expulsion of the Government, and does not acknowledge the right of the members of the Central Committee to impose its wishes upon us. Why then does Paris remain passive and patient? Does it not fear that it will be said that silence implies consent? How is it that I myself, for example, instead of writing my passing impressions on these pages, do not take my musket to punish the criminals and resist this despotism? It is that we all feel the present situation to be a, singularly complicated one. The Government which has withdrawn to Versailles committed so many faults that it would be difficult to side with it without reserve. The weakness and inability the greater part of those who composed it showed during the siege, their obstinacy in remaining deaf to the legitimate wishes of the capital, have ill disposed us for depending on a state of things which it would have been impossible to approve of entirely. In fine, these unknown revolutionists, guilty most certainly, but perhaps sincere, claim for Paris rights that almost the whole of Paris is inclined to demand. It is impossible not to acknowledge that the municipal franchise is wished for and becomes henceforth necessary.
It is for this reason that although aghast at the excesses in perspective and those already committed by the dictators of the 18th March, though revolted at the thought of all the blood spilled and yet to be spilled—this is the reason that we side with no party. The past misdeeds of the legitimate Government of Versailles damp our enthusiasm for it, while some few laudable ideas put forth by the illegitimate government of the Hôtel de Ville diminish our horror of its crimes, and our apprehensions at its misdoings.
Then—why not dare say it?—Paris, which is so impressionable, so excitable, so romantic, in admiration before all that is bold, has but a moderate sympathy for that which is prudent. We may smile, as I did just now, at the emphatic proclamation of the Central Committee, but that does not prevent us from recognizing that its power is real, and the ferocious elements that it has so suddenly revealed are not without a certain grandeur. It might have been spitefully remarked that more than one patriot in his yesterday evening walk on the outer boulevards and in the environs of the Hôtel de Ville, had taken morepetit vinthan was reasonable in honour of the Republic and of the Commune, but that has not prevented our feeling a surprise akin to admiration at the view of those battalions hastening from all quarters at some invisible signal, and ready at any moment to give up their lives to defend ... what? Their guns, and these guns were in their eyes the palpable symbols of their rights and liberties. During this time the heroic Assembly was pettifogging at Versailles, and the Government was going to join them. Paris does not follow those who fly.
The Butte-Montmartre isen fête. The weather is charming, and every one goes to see the cannon and inspect the barricades, Men, women, and children mount the hilly streets, and they all appear joyous ... for what, they cannot say themselves, but who can resist the charm of sunshine? If it rained, the city would be in mourning. Now the citizens have closed their shops and put on their best clothes, and are going to dine at the restaurant. These are the very enemies of disorder, the small shopkeepers and the humble citizens. Strange contradiction! But what would you have? the sun is so bright, the weather is so lovely. Yesterday no work was done because of the insurrection; it was like a Sunday. To-day therefore is the holiday-Monday of the insurrection.
Illustration:Behind a Barricade: The Morning Meal—thirty Sous A Day and nothing to eat
Behind a Barricade: The Morning Meal—thirty Sous A Day and nothing to eat
In the midst of all these troubles, in which every one is borne along, without any knowledge of where he is drifting—with the Central Committee making proclamations on one side, and the Versailles Government training troops on the other, a few men have arisen who have spoken some words of reason. These men may be certain from this moment that they are approved of by Paris, and will be obeyed By Paris—by the honest and intelligent Paris—by the Paris which is ready to favour that side which can prove that it has the most justice in it.
The deputies and maires of Paris have placarded the following proclamation:—
“RÉPUBLIQUE FRANÇAISE.“LIBERTÉ, ÉGALITÉ, FRATERNITÉ.
“Citizens,—Impressed with the absolute necessity of saving Paris and the Republic by the removal of every cause of collision, and convinced that the best means of attaining this grand object is to give satisfaction to the legitimate wishes of the people, we have resolved this very day to demand of the National Assembly the adoption of two measures which we have every hope will contribute to bring back tranquillity to the public mind.“These two measures are: The election of all the officers of the National Guard, without exception, and the establishment of a municipal council, elected by the whole of the citizens.“What we desire, and what the public welfare requires under all circumstances; and which the present situation renders more indispensable than ever, is, order in liberty and by liberty.“Vive la France!Vive la République!
“The representatives of the Seine:
“Louis Blanc, V. Schoelcher, Edmond Adam, Floquet, Martin Bernard, Langlois, Edouard Lockroy, Farcy, Brisson, Greppo, Millière.
“The maires and adjoints of Paris:
“1st Arrondissement: Ad. Adam, Meline, adjoints.—2nd Arrondissement: Tirard, maire, representative of the Seine; Ad. Brelay, Chéron, Loiseau-Pinson, adjoints.—3rd Arrondissement; Bonvalet, maire; Ch. Murat, adjoint.—4th Arrondissement: Vautrain, maire; Loiseau, Callon, adjoints.—5th Arrondissement: Jourdan, adjoint.—6th Arrondissement: Hérisson, maire; A. Leroy, adjoint.—7th Arrondissement: Arnaud (de l’Ariége), maire, representative of the Seine.—8th Arrondissement: Carnot, maire, representative of the Seine.—9th Arrondissement: Desmaret, maire.—10th Arrondissement: Dubail, maire; A. Murat, Degoyves-Denunques, adjoints.—11th Arrondissement: Motu, maire, representative of the Seine; Blanchon, Poirier, Tolain, representative of the Seine.—12th Arrondissement: Denizot, Dumas, Turillon, adjoints.—18th Arrondissement: Léo Meillet, Combes, adjoints.—14th Arrondissement: Héligon, adjoint.—15th Arrondissement: Jobbe-Duval, adjoint.—16th Arrondissement: Henri Martin, maire and representative of the Seine,—17th. Arrondissement: FRANÇOIS FAVRE, maire; MALOU, VILLENEUVE, CACHEUX, adjoints.—18th. Arrondissement: CLÉMENCEAU, maire and representative of the people; J.B. LAFONT, DEREURE, JACLARD, adjoints.”
This proclamation has now been posted two hours, and I have not yet met a single person who does not approve of it entirely. The deputies of the Seine and themairesof Paris have, by the flight of the Government to Versailles, become the legitimate chiefs. We have elected them, it is for them to lead us. To them belongs the duty of reconciling the Assembly with the city; and it appears to us that they have taken the last means of bringing about that conciliation, by disengaging all that is legitimate and practical in its claims from the exaggeration of theémeute. Let them therefore have all praise for this truly patriotic attempt. Let them hasten to obtain from the Assembly a recognition of our rights. In acceding to the demands of the deputies and themaires, the Government will not be treating with insurrection; on the contrary, it will effect a radical triumph over it, for it will take away from it every pretext of existence, and will separate from it, in a definite way, all those men who have been blinded to the illegal and violent manner in which this programme is drawn up, by the justice of certain parts of it.
If the Assembly consent to this, all that will remain of the 18th of March will be the recollection—painful enough, without doubt—of one sanguinary day, while out of a great evil will come a great benefit.
Whatever may happen, we are resolute; we—that is to say, all those who, without having followed the Government of Versailles, and without having taken an active part in the insurrection, equally desire the re-establishment of legitimate power and the development of municipal liberties—we are resolved to follow where our deputies and themairesmay lead us. They represent at this, moment the only legal authority which seems to us to have fairly understood the difficulties of the situation, and if, in the case of all hope of conciliation being lost, they should tell us to take up arms, we will do so.
Paris has this evening, the 21st of March, an air of extraordinary contentment; it has belief in the deputies and themaires, it has trust even, in the National Assembly. People talk of the manifestation of the Friends of Order and approve of it. A foreigner, a Russian, Monsieur A—— J——, who has inhabited Paris for ten years, and is consequently Parisian, has given me the following information, of which I took hasty note:—
“At half-past one o’clock to-day a group, of which I made one, was formed in the place of the New Opera-house. We numbered scarcely twenty persons, and we had a flag on which was inscribed, ‘Meeting of the Friends of Order.’ This flag was carried by a soldier of the line, an employé, it is said, of the house of Siraudin, the great confectioners. We marched along the boulevards as far as the Rue de Richelieu; windows were opened as we passed, and the people cried, ‘Vive l’Ordre! Vive l’Assemblée Nationale! A bas la Commune!’ Few as we were at starting our numbers soon grew to three hundred, to five hundred, to a thousand. Our troop followed the Rue de Richelieu, increasing as it went. At the Place de la Bourse a captain at the head of his National Guards tried to stop us. We continued our course, the company saluted our flag as, we passed, and the drums beat to arms. After having traversed, still increasing in numbers, the streets which surround the Bourse, we returned to the boulevards, where the most lively enthusiasm burst out around us. We halted opposite the Rue Drouot. Themairieof the Ninth Arrondissement was occupied by a battalion attached to the Central Committee—the 229th, I believe. Although there was some danger of a collision, we made our way into the street, resolved to do our duty, which was to protest against the interference with order and the disregard for established laws; but no resistance was opposed to us. The National Guards came out in front of the door of themairieand presented arms to us, and we were about to continue our way, when some one remarked that our flag, on which, as I have already said, were the woods ‘Meeting of the Friends of Order,’ might expose us to the danger of being taken for ‘réactionnaires,’ and that we ought to add the words ‘Vive la République!’ Those who headed the manifestation came to a halt, and a few of them went into a café, and there wrote the words on the flag with chalk. We then resumed our march, following the widest and most frequented paths, and were received with acclamations everywhere. A quarter of an hour later we arrived at the Rue de la Paix and were marching towards the Place Vendôme, where the battalions of the Committee were collected in masses, and where, as is well known, the staff of the National Guard had its head-quarters. There, as in the Rue Drouot, the drums were beaten and arms presented to us; more than that, an officer came and informed the leaders of the manifestation that a delegate of the Central Committee begged them to proceed to the staff quarters. At this moment I was carrying the flag. We advanced in silence. When we arrived beneath the balcony, surrounded by National Guards, whose attitude was generally peaceful; there appeared on the balcony a rather young man, without uniform, but wearing a red scarf, and surrounded by several superior officers; he came forward and said—‘Citizens, in the name of the Central Committee....’ when he was interrupted by a storm of hisses and by cries of ‘Vive l’Ordre! Vive l’Assemblée Nationale! Vive la République!’ In spite of these daring interruptions we were not subjected to any violence, nor even to any threats, and without troubling ourselves any more about the delegate, we marched round the column, and having regained the boulevards proceeded towards the Place de la Concorde. There, some one proposed that we should visit Admiral Saisset, who lived in the Rue Pauquet, in the quarter of the Champs Elysées, when a grave looking man with grey hair said that Admiral Saisset was at Versailles. ‘But,’ he added, ‘there are several admirals amongst you.’ He gave his own name, it was Admiral de Chaillé. From that moment he headed the manifestation, which passed over the Pont de la Concorde to the Faubourg St. Germain. Constantly received with acclamations, and increasing in numbers, we paraded successively all the streets of the quarter, and each time that we passed before a guard-house the men presented arms. On the Place St. Sulpice a battalion drew up to allow us to pass. We afterwards went along the Boulevard St. Michel and the Boulevard de Strasbourg. During this part of our course we were joined by a large group, preceded by a tricolor flag with the inscription, ‘Vive l’Assemblée Nationale!’ From this time the two flags floated side by side at the head of the augmented procession. As we were about to turn into the Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle, a man dressed in a paletot and wearing a grey felt hat, threw himself upon me as I was carrying the standard of the Friends of Order, but a negro, dressed in the uniform of the National Guard, who marched beside me, kept the man off, who thereupon turned against the person that carried the other flag, wrested it from him, and with extraordinary strength broke the staff, which was a strong one, over his knee. This incident caused some confusion; the man was seized and carried off, and I fear he was rather maltreated. We then made our way back to the boulevards. At our appearance the enthusiasm of the passers-by was immense; and certainly, without exaggeration, we numbered between three and four thousand persons by the time we got back to the front of the New Opera-house, where we were to separate. A Zouave climbed up a tree in front of the Grand Hôtel, and fixed our flag on the highest branch. It was arranged that we should meet on the following day, in uniform but without arms, at the same place.”
This account differs a little from those given in the newspapers, but I have the best reason to believe it absolutely true.
What will be the effect of this manifestation? Will those who desire “Order through Liberty and in Liberty” succeed in meeting in sufficiently large numbers to bring to reason, without having recourse to force, the numerous partizans of the Commune? Whatever may happen, this manifestation proves that Paris has no intention of being disposed of without her own consent. In connection with the action of the deputies in the National Assembly, it cannot have been ineffective in aiding the coming pacification.
Many hopeful promises of concord and quiet circulate this evening amongst the less violent groups.
What is this fusillade? Against whom is it directed? Against the Prussians? No! Against Frenchmen, against passers-by, against those who cry “Vive la République et vive l’Ordre.” Men are falling dead or wounded, women flying, shops closing, amid the whistling of the bullets,—all Paris terrified. This is what I have just seen or heard. We are done for then at last. We shall see the barricades thrown up in our streets; we shall meet the horrid litters, from which hang hands black with powder; every woman will weep in the evening when her husband is late in returning home, and all mothers will be seized with terror. France, alas! France, herself a weeping mother, will fall by the hands of her own children.
I had started, in company with a friend, from the Passage Choiseul on my way to the Tuileries, which has been occupied since yesterday by a battalion devoted to the Central Committee. On arming at the corner of the Rue St. Roch and the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs we perceived a considerable crowd in the direction of the Rue de la Paix. “What is going on now?” said I to my friend. “I think,” said he, “that it is an unarmed manifestation going to the Place Vendôme; it passed along the boulevards a short time since, crying “Vive l’Ordre.”
As we talked we were approaching the Rue de la Paix. All at once a horrible noise was heard. It was the report of musketry. A white smoke rose along the walls, cries issued from all parts, the crowd fled terrified, and a hundred yards before us I saw a woman fall. Is she wounded or dead? What is this massacre? What fearful deeds are passing in open day, in this glorious sunshine? We had scarcely time to escape into one of the cross-streets, followed by the frightened crowd, when the shops were closed, hurriedly, and the horrible news spread to all parts of terrified Paris.
Reports, varying extremely in form, spread with extraordinary rapidity; some were grossly exaggerated, others the reverse. “Two hundred victims have fallen,” said one. “There were no balls in the guns,” said another. The opinions regarding the cause of the conflict were strangely various. Perhaps we shall never know, with absolute certainty, what passed in the Place, Vendôme and the Rue de la Paix. For myself, I was at once; too far and too near the scene of action; too near, for I had narrowly missed being killed; too far, for I saw nothing but the smoke and the flight, of the terrified crowd.
One thing certain is that the Friends of Order who, yesterday, succeeded in assembling a large number of citizens, had to-day tried to renew its attempt at pacification by unarmed numbers. Three or four thousand persons entered the Rue de la Paix towards two o’clock in the afternoon, crying, “L’Ordre! L’Ordre! Vive l’Ordre!” The Central Committee had doubtless issued severe orders, for the foremost sentinels of the Place, far from presenting arms to the “Friends of Order,” as they had done the day before, formally refused to let them continue their way. And then what happened? Two crowds were face to face; one unarmed, the other armed, both under strong excitement, one trying to press forward, the other determined to oppose its passage. A pistol-shot was heard. This was a signal. Down went the muskets, the armed crowd fired, and the unarmed dispersed in mad flight, leaving dead and wounded on their path.
But who fired that first pistol-shot? “One of the citizens of the demonstration; and moreover, the sentinels had their muskets torn from them;” affirm the partisans of the Central Committee, and they bring forward, among other proofs; the evidence of an eye-witness, a foreign general, who saw it all from a window of the Rue de la Paix. But these assertions are but little to be relied upon. Can it be seriously believed that a crowd, to all appearance peaceful, would commit such an act of aggression? Who would have been insane enough to expose a mass of unarmed people to such dire revenge, by a challenge as criminal as it was useless? The account according to which the pistol was fired by an officer of the Federal guard from the foot of the Place Vendôme, thus giving the signal to those under his orders to fire upon the citizens, improbable as appears such an excess of cold-blooded barbarity, is much the more credible. And now how many women mourn their husbands and son’s wounded, and perhaps dead? How many victims have fallen? The number is not yet known. Monsieur Barle, a lieutenant of the National Guard, was shot in the stomach. Monsieur Gaston Jollivet, who some time ago committed the offence, grave in our eyes, of publishing a comic ode in which he allows himself to ridicule our illustrious and beloved master, Victor Hugo, but was certainly guilty of none in desiring a return to order, had his arm fractured, it is said. Monsieur Otto Hottinger, one of the directors of the French Bank, fell, struck by two balls, while raising a wounded man from the ground.
One of my friends assures me that half-an-hour after the fusillade he was fired at, as he was coming out from aporte-cochère,[18]by National Guards in ambuscade.
At four o’clock, at the corner of the Rue de la Paix and the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs, an old man, dressed in a blouse, still lay where he had fallen across the body of acantinière, and beside him a soldier of the line, the staff of a tricolour flag grasped in his dead hand. Is this soldier the same of whom my friend Monsieur A—— J—— speaks in his account of the first demonstration, and who was said to be an employé at Siraudin’s?
There were many other victims—Monsieur de Péne, the editor ofParis-Journal, dangerously wounded by a ball that penetrated the thigh; Monsieur Portel, lieutenant in the Eclaireurs Franchetti, wounded in the neck and right foot; Monsieur Bernard, a merchant, killed; Monsieur Giraud, a stockbroker, also killed. Fresh names are added to the funereal list every moment.
Where will this revolution lead us, which was begun by the murder of two Generals and is being carried on by the assassination of passers-by?
NOTES:
[18]Porte-cochère (carriage gateway).
In the midst of all this horror and terror I saw one little incident which made me smile, though it was sad too; an idyl which might be an elegy. Three hired carriages descended the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette. It was a wedding. In the first carriage was the bride, young and pretty, in tears; in the second, the bridegroom, looking anything but pleased. As the horses were proceeding slowly on account of the hill, I approached and inquired the cause of the discontent. A disagreeable circumstance had happened, thegarçon d’honneurtold me. They had been to themairieto be married, but themairiehad been turned into a guard-house, and instead of themairieand his clerks, they found soldiers of the Commune. The sergeant had offered to replace the municipal functionary, but the grands-parents had not consented to such an arrangement, and they were forced to return with the connubial knot still to be tied. An unhappy state of things. “Pooh!” said an old woman who was passing by, “they can marry to-morrow.—There is always time enough to commit suicide.”
It is true, they can marry to-morrow; but these young people wished to be married to-day. What are revolutions to them? What would it have mattered to the Commune had these lovers been united to-day? Is one ever sure of recovering happiness that has once escaped? Ah! this insurrection, I hate it for the men it has killed, and the widows it has made; and also for the sake of those pretty eyes that glistened with tears under the bridal wreath.
Themairieof the Second Arrondissement seems destined to be the centre of resistance to the Central Committee. The Federals have not been able, or have not dared, to occupy it. In the quarter of the Place de la Bourse and the Place des Victoires, National Guards have assembled and declared themselves Friends of Order. But they are few in number. Yesterday morning, the 23rd of March, they were reinforced by battalions that joined them, one by one, from all parts of Paris. They obey the orders, they say, of Admiral Saisset, raised to the superior command of the National Guard. It is believed that there are mitrailleuses within the Bourse and in the court of the Messageries. The massacre of the Rue de la Paix decided the most timorous. There is a determination to have done, by some means or other, with tyrants who represent in fact but a small part of the population of Paris, and who wish to dominate over the whole city. The preparations for resistance are being made between the Hôtel de Ville on the one hand, where the members of the Committee are sitting, formidably defended, and the Place Vendôme, crammed with insurgents, on the other. Is it civil war—civil war, with all its horrors, that is about to commence? A company of Gardes Mobiles has joined the battalions of Order. Pupils of the Ecole Polytechnique come and go between themairieof the Second Arrondissement and the Grand Hôtel, where Admiral Saisset and his staff are said to be installed.[19]A triple line of National Guards closes the entrance of the Rue Vivienne against carriages and everybody who does not belong to the quarter. Nevertheless, a large number of people, eager for information, manage to pass the sentries in spite of the rule. On the Place de la Bourse a great crowd discusses, and gesticulates around the piled bayonets which glitter in the sun. I notice that the pockets of the National Guards are crammed full; a large number of cartridges has been distributed.
The orders are strict: no one is to quit his post. There are men, however, who have been standing there, without sleep, for twenty-four hours. No one must leave the camp of the Friends of Order even to go and dine. Those who have no money either have rations given them or are provided at the expense of themairie, from a restaurant of the Rue des Filles Saint-Thomas, with a dinner consisting of soup and bouilli, a plate of meat, vegetables, and a bottle of wine. I hear one of them exclaim,
“If the Federals knew that we not only get our pay, but are also fed like princes, they would come over to us, every man of them. As for us, we are determined to obey themairesand deputies of Paris.” Much astonishment is manifested at the absence of Vice-Admiral Saisset; as he has accepted the command he ought to show himself. Certain croakers even insinuate that the vice-admiral hesitates to organise the resistance, but we will not listen to them, and are on the whole full of confidence and resolution. “We are numerous, determined; we have right on our side, and will triumph.”
At about four o’clock an alarm is sounded. We hear cries of “To arms! To arms!” The drums beat, the trumpets sound, the ranks are formed. The ominous click, click, as the men cock their rifles, is heard on all sides. The moment of action has arrived. There are more than ten thousand men, well armed and determined. A company of Mobiles and the National Guards defend the entrance of the Rue Vivienne. All this tumult is caused by one of the battalions from Belleville, passing along the boulevards with three pieces of cannon.
What is about to happen? When the insurgents reach the top of the Rue Vivienne they seem to hesitate. In a few seconds the boulevards, which were just now crowded, are suddenly deserted; and even the cafés are closed.
At such a moment as this, a single accidental shot (several such have happened this morning; a woman standing at a window at the corner of the Rue Saint Marc was nearly killed by the carelessness, of one of the Guards),—a single shot, a cry even, or a menacing gesture would suffice to kindle the blaze. Nobody. moves or speaks. I feel myself tremble before the possibility of an irreparable disaster; it is a solemn and terrible moment.
The battalion from Belleville presents arms; we reply, and they pass on. The danger is over; we breathe again. In a few seconds the crowd has returned to the boulevards.
NOTES:
[19]Lieutenant-Colonel de Beaugrand had improvised staff-quarters at the Grand Hôtel, and the nomination of Admiral Saisset, together with M. Schoelcher and Langlois, had strengthened the enmity of the two parties. The Central Committee, seeing the danger which threatened, announced that the Communal elections were adjourned to Sunday the 26th March.
It is two in the morning. Tired of doing nothing I take out my note-book, seat myself on a doorstep opposite the Restaurant Catelain, and jet down my memoranda by the light of a street lamp.
As soon as night came on, every measure of precaution was taken. We have no idea by whom we are commanded, but it would appear that a serious defence is contemplated, and is being executed with prudence. Is it Admiral Saisset who is at our head? We hope so. Although we have been so often disappointed in our chiefs, we have not yet lost the desire to place confidence in some one. To-night we believe in the admiral. Ever and anon our superior officers retire to themairies, and receive strict orders concerning their duty. We are quite an army in ourselves; our centre is in the Place de la Bourse, our wings extend into the adjoining streets. Lines of Nationals guard all the openings; sentinels are posted sixty feet in front to give the alarm. Within the enclosed space there is no one to be seen, but the houses are inhabited as usual. The doors have been left open by order, and also all the windows on the first floors. Each company, divided under the command of sergeants, has taken possession of three or four houses. At the first signal of alarm the street-doors are to be closed, the men to rush to the windows, and from there to fire on the assailants. “Hold yourselves in readiness; it is very possible you may be attacked. On the approach of the enemy the guards in the streets are to fall back under fire towards the houses, and take shelter there. Those posted at the windows are to keep up an unceasing fire on the insurgents. In the meantime the bulk of our forces will come to our aid, and clear the streets with their mitrailleuses.”
So we waited, resolved on obedience, calm, with a silent but fervent prayer that we might not be obliged to turn our arms against our fellow-townsmen.
The night is beautiful. Some of our men are talking in groups on the thresholds of the doors, others, rolled in their blankets, are lying on the ground asleep. In the upper storeys of some of the houses lights are still twinkling through the muslin curtains; lower down all is darkness. Scarcely a sound is to be heard, only now and then the rumble of a heavy cart, or perhaps a cannon in the distance; and nearer to us the sudden noise of a musket that slips from its resting-place on to the pavement. Every hour the dull sound of many feet is heard; it is the patrol of Mobiles making its round. We question them as they pass.—“Anything fresh?”—“Nothing,” is the invariable reply.—“How far have you been?”—“As far as the Rue de la Paix,” they answer, and pass on. Interrupted conversations are resumed, and the sleepers, who had been awakened by the noise, close their eyes again. We are watching and waiting,—may we watch and wait in vain!
Never have I seen the dawn break with greater pleasure. Almost everyone has some time in his life passed such sleepless nights, when it seems to him that the darkness will never disappear, and the desire for light and day becomes a fearful longing. Never was dawn more grateful than after that wretched night. And yet the fear of a disastrous collision did not disappear with the night. It was even likely that the Federals might have waited for the morning to begin their attack, just when fatigue is greatest, sleep most difficult to fight against, and therefore discipline necessarily slackened. Anyhow, the light seemed to reassure us; we could scarcely believe that the crime of civil war could be perpetrated in the day-time. The night had been full of fears, the morning found us bright and happy. Not all of us, however. I smile as I remember an incident which occurred a little before daylight. One of our comrades, who had been lying near me, got up, went out into the street, and paced up and down some time, as if to shake off cramp or cold. My eyes followed him mechanically; he was walking in front of the houses, the backs of which look out upon the Passage des Panoramas, and as he did so he cast furtive glances through the open doorways. He went into one, and came out with a disappointed expression on his face. Having repeated this strange manoeuvre several times, he reached aporte-cochèrethat was down by the side of the Restaurant Catelain. He remained a few minutes, then reappeared with a beaming countenance, and made straight for where I was standing, rubbing his hands gleefully.
“Monsieur,” said he, in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, “do you approve of this plan of action, which consists, in case of attack, of shooting from the windows on the assailants?”—“A necessity of street fighting,” said I. “Let us hope we shall not have to try it.”—“Oh! of course; but I should have preferred it if they had taken other measures.”—“Why?” I asked.—“Why, you see, when we are in the houses the insurgents will try to force their way in.”—I could not see what he was driving at, so I said, “Most probably.”—“But if they do get in?” he insisted:—“I will trust to our being reinforced from the Place de la Bourse before they can effect an entrance.”—“Doubtless! doubtless!” he answered; but I saw he was anything but convinced.—“But you know reinforcements often arrive too late, and if the Federals should get in, we shall be shot down like dogs in those rooms overhead!”—I acknowledged that this would be, to say the least, disagreeable, but argued that in time of war one must take one’s chance.—“Do you think, then, monsieur,” he continued, “that, if in the event of the insurgents entering we were to look out for a back door to escape by, we should be acting the part of cowards?”—“Of cowards? no; but of excessively prudent individuals? yes.”:—“Well, monsieur, I am prudent, and there is an end of it!” exclaimed my comrade, with an air of triumph, “and I think I have found——” —“The back door in question?”—“Just go; look down that passage in front of us; at the end there is a door which leads—where do you think?”—“Into the Passage des Panoramas, does it not?”—“Yes, monsieur, and now you see what I mean.”—I told him I did not think I did.—“Why, you see,” he explained, “when the enemy comes we must rush into that passage, shut the lower door, and make for our post at the windows, where we will do our duty bravely to our last cartridge. But suppose, in the meantime, that those devils, succeed in breaking open the lower door with the butt end of their muskets—and it is not very strong—what shall we do then?”—“Why, of course,” I said, “we must plant ourselves at the top of the staircase and receive them at the point of our bayonets.”—“By no means;” he expostulated.—“But we must; it is our duty.”—“Oh! I fancied we might have gained the door that leads into the passage,” he went on, looking rather shame-faced.—“What, run away!”—“No, not exactly; only find some place of safety!”—“Well, if it comes to that,” I replied, “you may do just as you like; only I warn you that the passage is occupied by a hundred of our men, and that all the outlets are barricaded.”—“No, not all,” he said with conviction, “and that is why I appeal to you. You are a journalist, are you not?”—“Sometimes.”—“Yes, but you are; and you know actors and all those sort of people, and you go behind the scenes, I dare say, and know where the actors dress themselves, and all that.”—I looked at my brave comrade in some surprise, but he continued without noticing me, “And, you know all the ins and outs of the theatre, the corridors, the trapdoors.”—“Suppose I do, what good can that do you?”—“All the good in the world, monsieur; it will be the saving of me. Why we shall only have to find the actors’ entrance of theVariétés, which is in the passage, then ring, at the bell; the porter knows you, and will admit us. You can guide us both up the staircase and behind the scenes, and we can easily hunt out some hole or corner in which to hide until the fight is over.”—“Then,” said I, feeling rather disgusted with my companion, “we can bravely walk out of the front door on the boulevards, and go and eat a comfortable breakfast, while the others are busy carrying away our dead comrades from the staircase we ought to have helped to defend!”
The poor man looked at me aghast, and then went off. I saw that I had hurt his feelings, and I thought perhaps I had been wrong in making him feel the cowardice of his proposition. I had known him for some months; he lived in the same street as I did, and I remembered that he had a wife and children. Perhaps he was right in wishing to protect his life at any price. I thought it over for a minute or two, and then it went out of my mind altogether.
At four in the morning we had another alarm; in an instant every one was on foot and rushing to the windows. The house to which I was ordered was the very one that had inspired my ingenious friend with his novel plan of evasion. I found him already installed in the room from whence we were to fire into the street.—“You do not know what I have done,” said he, coming up to me.—“No.”—“Well, you know the door which opens on to the passage; you remember it?”—“Of course I do.”—“I found there was a key; so what do you think I did? I double-locked the door, and went and slipped the key down the nearest drain! Ha! ha! The fellow who tries to escape that way will be finely caught!”
I seized him cordially by the hand and shook it many times. He was beaming, and I was pleased also. I could not help feeling that however low France may have fallen, one must never despair of a country in which cowards even can be brave.
On Friday, the 24th of March, at nine in the morning, we are still in the quarter of the Bourse. Some of the men have not slept for forty-eight hours. We are tired but still resolved. Our numbers are increasing every hour. I have just seen three battalions, with trumpeters and all complete, come up and join us. They will now be able to let the men who have been so long on duty get a little rest. As to what is going on, we are but very incompletely informed. The Federals are fortifying themselves more strongly than ever at the Place de l’Hôtel de Ville and the Place Vendôme. They are very numerous, and have lots of artillery. Why do they not act on the offensive? Or do they want, as we do, to avoid a conflict? Certainly our hand shall not be the first to spill French blood. These hours of hesitation on both sides calm men’s minds. The deputies and mayors of Paris are trying to obtain from the National Assembly the recognition of the municipal franchise. If the Government has the good sense to make these concessions, which are both legitimate and urgent, rather than remain doggedly on the defensive, with the conviction that it has right on its ride; if, in a word, it remembers the well-known maxim, “Summum jus, summa injuria,” the horrors of civil war may be averted. We are told, and I fancy correctly, that the Federal Guards are not without fear concerning the issue of the events into which they have hurried. The chiefs must also be uneasy. Even those who have declared themselves irreconcileable in the hour of triumph would not perhaps be sorry now if a little condescension on the part of the Assembly furnished them with a pretext of not continuing the rebellion. Just now, several Guards of the 117th Battalion, a part of which has declared for the Central Committee, who happened to be passing, stopped to chat with our outposts. Civil war to the knife did not at all appear to be their most ardent desire. One of them said: “We were called to arms, what could we do but obey? They give us our pay, and so here we are.” Were they sincere in this? Did they come with the hope of joining us, or to spy into what we were doing? Others, however, either more frank or less clever at deception, declared that they wanted the Commune, and would have, it at any price. This, however, was by far the smaller number; the majority of the insurgents are of the opinion of these men who joined in conversation with us. It is quite possible to believe that some understanding might be brought about. A fact has just been related to me which confirms me in my opinion.
The Comptoir d’Escompte was occupied by a post of Federals. A company of Government Guards from the 9th Arrondissement marched up to take possession. “You have been here for two whole days; go home and rest,” said the officer in command of the latter. But the Federals obstinately refused to be sent away. The officer insisted.—“We are in our own quarter, you are from Belleville; it is our place to guard the Comptoir d’Escompte.”—It was all of no avail until the officer said: “Go away directly, and we will give you a hundred francs.”—They did not wait for the offer to be repeated, but accepted the money and marched off. Now men who are willing to sell their consciences at two francs a head—for there were fifty of them—cannot have any very formidable political opinions. I forgot to say that this post of Federals was commanded by the Italian Tibaldi, the same who had been arrested in one of the passages of the Hôtel de Ville during the riots of the 31st October.