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THE INSURRECTION IN PARIS

RELATED

BY

AN ENGLISHMAN

_An eye-witness of that frightful war and of the terrible evils which
accompanied it_

PRICE: 2 fr. 50 c.

PARIS

A. LEMOIGNE, EDITOR

26, PLACE VENDOME

1871

Imprimerie de F. Le Blanc-Hardel, rue Froide, 2 et 4, a Caen.

_Paris, June the 25th 1871._


DEAR EDWARD,

To you who have been pleased to take some interest in what I wrote about
Paris, I inscribe this small volume which, according to your suggestion,
I publish under the form of a nearly day per day correspondence.

_Yours truly_,

DAVY.




RECOLLECTIONS

OF THE

PARISIAN INSURRECTION.


The desire of appreciating _de visu_ the results of a five month's siege
in a town of two million inhabitants, unexampled in the annals of
humanity, made me leave London on the twentieth of March.

Hardly landed in the Capital of France which I thought of finding
tranquil and occupied in exercising its genius in repairing the
disasters caused by the enemy, I heard with stupefaction that Paris, a
prey to civil war, was under the blow of a fresh siege.

Sad change! the German helmets had given place to the French kepys;
citizens of the same nation were going to cut one another's throats.

My first thought was to withdraw from this mournful and dangerous
spectacle. Of what importance to me, a simple citizen of Great Britain,
were the disorders and furies of that people, in turn our most cruel
enemy or our friend according to circumstances, as European politics or
the interests of sovereigns make of them our adversary or our ally?--Why
expose myself voluntarily to the heart-rending and often dangerous
trials of a war that had none of my sympathies either on the one side or
on the other of the enclosure? Was I going to see a great people
breaking its irons and fighting to death in order to recover its rights
and liberty?--No--the French people had at last the government of their
choice,--the Republic. There was, then, question of an impious war,
undertaken by a blind multitude for the profit of a few hidden
ambitions: that is to say, a war without grandeur and without interest
for a simple spectator.

However, after due reflection, I overcame my repugnance. I had, in my
excursions, remarked, among the armed bands, so many heterogeneous
elements; that is to say, thousands of individuals of all social
positions and of so many nationalities, that I began to think it would
perhaps be useful to my compatriots to hear by and by a sincere recital,
written by a disinterested pen, of the events about to take place.

I did not conceal from myself the dangers to which my curiosity would
expose me; but had I not, and that too without any advantage, incurred
as great dangers in escalading Mont-Blanc and in going up along the
borders of the Nile? Besides, as is generally the case, the certainty of
an imminent peril only served to strengthen my resolution. Moreover, not
wishing to run any useless risk, I thought good to take a few
precautions: I went to see Monsieur ***, an old French refugee that I
had known at London, by the interposition of M. Causidiere. I asked him
if he could not procure me a permission, a pass, some paper or other.

"Are you quite decided on staying?"

Asked that gentleman, whom I do not name for a reason that will be
appreciated by the reader.

"Perfectly decided."

"Could nothing, not even good advice, make you renounce your intention?"

"Nothing."

"Then come with me to the Town-hall."

I followed him; and, half an hour afterwards, I was in possession of a
pass signed by two members of the Commune.

This precaution was not to be useless. A few days afterwards, going to
see the fort of Vanves, strongly menaced, I was arrested and taken
before the commander of the Fort.

This officer examined my pass; and, hesitating without doubt as to my
identity, he put several questions to me in English. My answers
certainly satisfied him, for he took me by the hand and said to me in a
tone not without emotion:

"Go, Sir, I will give you some one to accompany you; I like the English;
I have seen them under fire; I was at Inkermann."

The next day, having advanced too near Courbevoie, I was arrested by a
patrol, and taken before a Commander of the army of Versailles. There I
exhibited a letter from the ambassador's.

"Ah!" said the Commander, "I knew in the Crimea two brave officers of
your name."

"John and Lewis--Captains--they were cousins of mine."

"That is it exactly--what has become of them?"

"Lewis is in the Indies--John is dead."

"He is very happy", said the commander sorrowfully, in bowing to me."

I went back, not without thinking of those two men--of those two
brothers-in-arms, who perhaps were going to fire upon each other, after
having mingled their blood before the enemy for the defence of their
country. Alas! I was destined to see greater crimes.

Certain, henceforth, of being able to get safely out of all scrapes,
thanks to my pass of the commune and my papers from the ambassador's, I
persevered in following step by step the events I am about to relate.

Not having the pretention to write the history of the French revolution,
with an appreciation of its consequences, as was done by our illustrious
compatriot Carlisle for the revolution of 93, I will content myself with
a simple and daily account of what I have seen and heard, and nothing
more.

The events offer of themselves sufficient interest and need not be
augmented.

In default of merit to which this book, so rapidly got up, cannot
pretend, I dare hope that its sincerity will gain for it the reader's
sympathy and esteem.

Paris.


A certain calm reigned in the city in consequence of the hope that was
entertained of seeing the commune come to an understanding with the
government of Versailles. Several battalions even marched only because
they were forced to do so. This hesitation was caused by the convocation
of all the freemasons for bringing about a reconciliation between the
two parties. It was, in fact, on this very day, that all the freemasons
of Paris went to the Town-hall to hear pronounced, by several members of
the commune, speeches of a fiery character and leading to civil war.

All efforts of reconciliation have failed. Dombrowski, then, has ordered
the inhabitants of Neuilly to leave in 24 hours, having the intention to
reduce the village to ashes. The day ended by the arrest of general
Cluseret.


MAY 1rst.

This day is signalized by the capture of the railway-station of Clamart,
where the insurgents lost, in addition to 60 prisoners, about 300 killed
by the bayonet. The soldiers of Versailles gave no quarter, excited as
they were at the sight of the deserters of the Line who served in the
ranks of the commune.

It was also on this day that general Mariouze retook the castle of Issy,
having captured 250 insurgents. This number was increased by others,
made prisoners during the day, and they arrived at Versailles 400 in
number.


MAY 2nd.

The scaffolding for the destruction of the Vendome Column is arranged,
and the eighth of this month is the day fixed for its fall.

The fighting around Paris continues violent and the troops of Versailles
press steadily forward.

The railway-companies are taxed to the amount of 2,000,000 fr.

Let us terminate this day by the recital of the pillage of Notre-Dame.

* * * * *


NOTRE-DAME PLUNDERED.

People were astonished that the commune should have restored the
treasure of Notre-Dame after having had it taken away. To day the
astonishment will cease: the furniture and vases had been brought back
only to be re-taken.

On monday, april 26th., in the afternoon, a certain number of national
guards, accompanied by the self-styled delegates of the commune, loaded,
for the second time, in two carriages, the treasure of Notre-Dame. Then,
having doubtless met with some difficulties, they had the horses taken
away and left the two carriages loaded.

The next day, at 1 o'clock, a pompous bill was stuck up at the town-hall
and at the mayory of the 4th. arrondissement, announcing that the
treasure of Notre-Dame had all just been restored. But, at about 3
o'clock, fifty national guards arrived at Notre-Dame, the horses were
again put to, and the two vehicles were taken no body knows where.

These gentlemen are to return, for they have only done half their work;
time has not permitted them to take all.

Such then is the end of the promises and protestations of gentlemen,
members of the commune, who declare aloud that probity is their ruling
virtue.

These gentlemen propose, moreover, it is said, to rake up, so to speak,
the very ground; that is to say, to upset every thing in the church,
cellars and caloriferes. They insist on finding there arms and
ammunition.

It is true that, during the siege, the gunners of the national guard,
who occupied the park of artillery established round the basilic,
demanded of the chapter's steward the authorisation to put in the
cellars and caloriferes their ammunition which was exposed to the shells
of the Prussians, and that this authorisation was granted them without
the least difficulty.

After the Armistice, they took away all these arms; but could they have
had the indelicacy to leave some behind in order to be able to justify
the impious and sacrilegious robbery they were meditating. This would be
odious but not impossible in such times as these.

A few days before two men employed in guarding the church were arrested.
They were kept 3 or 4 days, and, before being set at liberty, the keys
of the church were taken from them. What took place is however unknown,
for the poor fellows are afraid to utter a word.

A commissary came, in the name of the commune, to sequester the objects
belonging to the church Sainte-Marguerite, in the little borough of St.
Antoine. A picket of 10 national guards is in permanence in the church
to keep sight of the clergy.

The church Saint-Merry has also been ransacked by the sicaires of the
Commune.

The vicar, fortunately, had stolen away from their _fraternal_ visit.

The church Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs is transformed into a club-house.

The parishioners are robbed, plundered, driven from their temples, and
the preaching of the Gospel is replaced in the pulpit by the
declamations of epileptic tribunes.

At Plaisance they have sequestered a chalice and a sum of 175 franks,
the personal property of M. l'abbe Orse, first vicar.

The curate, M. Blondeau, is in the prisons of the Commune.


MAY 3d.

A manifestation, provoked by the Freemasons, took place in the
afternoon. A body of several thousands of people crossed the
Champs-Elysees, carrying green branches and white flags. Arrived at the
gate Maillot, the firing ceased, but the manifestation was warned not to
approach and that only two parliamentarians would be received. They
accordingly presented themselves and will be this evening at Versailles.
It is reported that yesterday 200 soldiers, wearing the uniform of
troops of the Line, went down the Champs-Elysees. It was said they were
deserters from Versailles. We can positively state as a certain fact,
that from the first week of april no deserter has been counted in the
army of Versailles.


MAY 4th.

Two brigades carried off last night the park, the castle and cemetery of
Issy, taking 8 guns, ammunition and a hundred prisoners. They had a few
dead and 20 wounded. The cemetery is about 210 yards from the fort. The
capture of this fort appears imminent.

Yesterday, Mr. Thiers received two parliamentarians, freemasons, who
declared, however, they had no mandate. Mr. Thiers gave them an answer
similar to those already known; that he desired more than any body the
end of the civil war, but that France could not capitulate before a few
insurgents; that they must apply for peace to the commune who had
troubled it.

Yesterday evening, a parliamentarian summoned the fort of Issy to
capitulate.

The insurgents answered that they were going to deliberate about it,
that they would give a reply in half an hour; then they asked for a
prolongation of the delay.--The parliamentarian returned.

The negociations for the capitulation, resumed in the morning, will
probably succeed.

The coup de main on the farm of Bonamy, in front of Chatillon, was
executed by a company of the 70th. and by that of the scouts of 71st.

Two officers of the insurgents were killed, and 30 insurgents killed or
wounded. They made 75 prisoners and among them 4 officers.

The last military facts of the day took place in the quarries and park
of Issy which were vigorously carried by the battalions of the brigades
Derocha, Paturel and Berthe, with the assistance of the marine
musketeers.

The insurgents, in very large numbers, retired precipitately, leaving
numerous dead and wounded, as well as a hundred prisoners, 8 pieces of
artillery, much ammunition and 8 horses.

Nothing particular this afternoon. The insurgents are busy about mining
Paris, and the Versailles troops have silenced the firing of the fort of
Issy which is now completely invested.

The fort of Issy is summoned to surrender, but Rossel, previously
colonel, who has replaced General Cluseret, gives the parliamentarian a
most arrogant answer of refusal threatening to have shot any other
messenger of the army of Versailles, the bearer of such a demand.


MAY 5, 6th.

Such was the remark I heard made yesterday by a poor and very old
peasant woman as she stopped work for a moment in a field above
Montretout to look at the Fort firing. She followed up this admirable
summary of recent military operations by asking me whether it was not
amazing that somebody could not "invent" a means to put a stop to this
Civil War. I think the whole world must concur with this poor old
woman. It is always the same repetition that is certain, and it is so
to even a greater degree than she was aware of. Not only is the
cannonading the same repetition, but the game of taking positions,
giving them up and retaking them, to lose or abandon them once more, has
been the night work of the last week. Except it may be by treason, or by
the Commune falling to pieces, they are not nearer a march on Paris than
they were three weeks ago. I won't say a month ago, because then the
work could have been done by a few thousand good troops. A non-official
organ of the Government now tells us to be confident, because "unless in
the case of such accidents as one cannot suppose, or of unforeseen
surprises, _some weeks_ will be sufficient to bring to an end the
necessary but sad entreprise of the attack on Paris!" The same paper is
of opinion that only "some months" will have elapsed before order is
restored in the capital. It thinks the _Journal Officiel_ ridiculously
sanguine, because the latter says, "our works of approach advance with a
rapidity which elicits the admiration of all men of art, and which
promises to France a speedy end of its trials, and to Paris a
deliverance from the horrible tyrants who oppress it." Perhaps it is
because the artillerists and other military men whom I meet are not
"men of art," but certainly I cannot find that any of them take so
bright a view of the position. I have just spoken with a very
distinguished foreign officer who has seen the position here and who has
been every where to look at the Insurgent side. He tells me that at the
batteries outside the city he saw some very good men, but that, taken as
a whole, the National Guards within the city are the most miserable lot
he ever saw under arms. All the barricades are admirably made as to
workmanship, but there is not one of them that could not be taken by
troops approaching from streets at angles with the points at which those
obstructions are placed. The Place Vendome is "a rat-trap," and the
Insurgent chiefs take good care not to make it their own Head-Quarters.
The gallant gentleman to whom I refer believes that if the troops once
got inside the _enceinte_, the insurrection would utterly collapse; but
if the military confine themselves to the operations in which they are
now engaged it will be a considerable time before Paris gives in. Such
is the report of a competent and impartial authority. Rumours of the
most contradictory character are rife from morning till night in the
open air lobby of the Assembly--the Rue des Reservoirs. Deputies who
"ought to know better" circulate very absurd _canards_; but, as remarks
a local print, "_Que voulez-vous? On s'ennuie, il faut bien passer le
temps!_" In my last letter of Thursday night I stated that the affair at
Moulin Saquet was a repetition of that at the Clamart Station. I find
to-day a contradiction of the statement that insurgents were butchered
at Moulin Saquet. It is true, nevertheless. The Commune, wishing, no
doubt, to keep the whole truth from their followers fearing its
disheartening effect, state enough for their purpose, which is to
represent the Versailles Government as assassins. It says that 15 of the
National Guards were killed with knives. The fact is as I stated it. The
redoubt was taken by surprise, and the soldiers gave no quarter. The
number I gave as that of the wretched men killed by the bayonet was 450.
I was under the mark. In his report of the affair General Cissey
says,--"Two hundred insurgents were left dead on the spot. We have taken
many insurgent officers and 300 prisoners and cannon." The Commune
alleges that the redoubt fell into the hands of the Versailles troops by
means of treason. In this instance I dare say the cry of "_Nous sommes
trahis!_" is not far from the truth. The unfortunate garrison were
asleep when the troops entered, the sentinels having, as is alleged,
fled, when they found the enemy was upon them. There were 800 men in the
redoubt, and before they could prepare any effective resistance the
massacre was effected. Now, after all this slaughter and capture of
prisoners and guns, Moulin Saquet is again in the hands of the
Insurgents. The Commune boasts that the National Guards attacked it with
much dash, and re-took it from the troops of Versailles. The fact is
these troops found the place too hot for them, and were obliged to
abandon it. It is exposed to the fire of Bicetre, Ivry, and Hautes
Bruyeres. Was it worth while for the sake of eight cannon to commit such
a terrific slaughter? Most of the prisoners taken on the occasion declare
that they had been forced to serve, and that they had been sent to
Moulin Saquet as a punishment for their having refused to march on
Neuilly. Among the captives is an interesting looking young woman, in
the uniform of a _cantiniere_. Poor thing, she is wounded and in
hospital. Her story is that some months ago she became the wife of a
young man, who after the breaking out of the Civil War was forced to
serve in the ranks of the Insurgents. For eight days she was without any
tidings of him, and in her despair she adopted the uniform in which she
was wounded and captured, in order that she might visit all the outposts
in search of her husband. She had not succeeded in finding him, and she
does not know whether he is living. Had she been successful she would
have died by his side rather than have been separated from him again. I
am happy to say that the wound of this heroine is only slight, and that
everything is being done to promote her recovery.

If the Insurgents have not actually re-taken the Clamart Station, the
scene of the other slaughter, they have established themselves very
close to it, in a cutting which forms a communication between the
Station and a barricade on the line of railway. As the Station is under
fire from Fort Vanves I have no doubt that the military found it
impossible to hold it, and that if not now in it the Insurgents may
re-occupy it whenever they like. Again, there was much boasting about
the taking of the Chateau of Issy. We were told that it was an admirable
position, completely screened from the insurgent fire, and affording an
excellent vantage ground for riflemen. I saw it on fire yesterday. The
Insurgents succeeded in making their shells reach it and making it very
much too hot for the Chasseurs. The truth is the Insurgents have been
doing the Versaillais quite as much damage as the latter have been
inflicting on them. The fire from the batteries at and about the Point
du Jour has been excellent. There must be artillerists there quite as
good as any on this side. The manner in which the ruins of Fort Issy
have been defended is surprising. There is not a roof or a window frame
in one of its barracks, but from the embrasures in the earthworks the
fire is still kept up from one or two points. To take it by assault
would be a matter of no difficulty, but General Faron believes that it
is mined, and even in its crippled position he won't venture to attack
it at close quarters. With the exception of bayoneting some 500 poor
wretches who could not defend themselves, taking a few hundred prisoners
who are rather an embarrassment to them, and capturing a few cannon
which they don't themselves want and which the Insurgents can easily
replace, the Government has done nothing this week. In the words of the
old peasant woman, _C'est toujours la meme repetition_.


MAY 7th.

In consequence of a large placard posted over the walls of Paris this
morning I passed through the gate of the private garden of the
Tuileries, and made my way, in company with a crowd of citizens of all
classes, through the apartments occupied but a few months ago by the
ex-Emperor and Empress. The printed invitation announced that we might
see the rooms in which the "tyrant" had lived, for the modest sum of 50c.,
but that, should we think proper to take tickets for the concert,
"whereby these saloons might be at length rendered useful to the
people," we should be permitted to enjoy the extra show gratis. I took a
ticket, and joined myself to a thick stream of people who belonged to
every nationality and rank of life, and whose remarks and criticisms
were most edifying. There were shopkeepers and their wives, only too
delighted to take advantage of the mildest dissipation; gentlemen whose
National Guard trousers were rendered respectable by the gray jacket or
blouse of a citizen; humdrum housewives who approved everything, and
gaped their admiration of so much gorgeous wall-colouring; there were
flaunting ladies in bonnets of the latest fashion and marvellous
petticoats, who criticized the curtains and pointed the parasol of scorn
at faded draperies; people who felt the heavy hand of the spectre of
departed glory, and people who exulted at beholding the hidden recesses
of an Imperial mansion laid bare to the jokes and ribaldry of
Belleville and La Villette. Every class of Parisian society was
represented in the throng that swayed and hustled through the rooms, but
the saddest sight of all was a knot or two of decrepit veterans from the
Invalides who leant against the balustrade of the grand staircase, and
gazed with pinched-up lips and dry eyes at the National Guards on duty,
lounging and carousing down below. The stairs were littered with bedding
and cooking utensils, shirts and stockings hanging to dry over the gilt
railings, while in the square at the stairs' foot were ranged benches
and boards on trestles, and there the soldiers of the Guard sat in
picturesque groups enough, contrasting in the carelessness and dirt of
their general appearance with the lavish ornaments of marble and gilt
work which served as a background to their figures. Marching orders,
more or less thumbed and torn, hung in fragments from the panelled
walls; names in pencil and names in ink, and names scrawled with a
finger-nail, defaced the doors and staircase wall. A sentry stood at
every door to see that the citizens behaved themselves--a precaution by
no means unnecessary, the outward aspect of certain members of the crowd
being taken into consideration. In the Salle de la Paix a number of
women were busy uncovering a number of chairs for the promised concert,
and in the Salle des Marechaux beyond, where the concert was to be
given, velvet benches were already occupied by old ladies in white caps
with baskets in their hands, who presented a stern aspect of endurance,
as though they were determined to sit there through the preparations as
well as the promised entertainment, and still to continue sitting until
turned out by sword and bayonet. The "Salle des Marechaux" exists no
more except in name, for men on ladders were employed covering up the
portraits which decorate the hall with screens of red silk--I suppose
lest the past glory of French heroes should pale the brilliancy of the
National Guard, just as the bas-reliefs of the Vendome Column act as an
outrage upon the susceptibilities of the Commune. White cloths were
being tied over the busts of Napoleon's Generals, and everything
relating to the past carefully obliterated--a rather foolish proceeding,
considering that the bee-spangled Imperial curtains still hang over the
doors, and festoons of the same drapery decorate the gallery above. The
brocaded panels of the Salle du Trone were objects of much remark among
the ladies, as were the tapestries of the Salle des Gobelins; but the
bareness and total absence of furniture were commented on freely on all
sides. Not a chair or a window blind, or even a door-plate or handle, is
to be seen in any of the rooms, except in those used for the concerts,
and the question arose, naturally enough. "Where is it all gone to?" The
same demand was made so often of an elderly bourgeois on duty at the end
of the Salle de Diane that he was fairly bewildered, and looked round
for help, and hailing the gold stripes on my cap as a haven of relief,
he forthwith seized upon me as a superior officer, and insisted on an
explanation. "You know there were quantities of cases carried off during
the time before Sedan," he said, "but, with all their cunning, they
can't have dismantled a whole palace of this size, can they?" And the
crowd stood round endeavouring to account for the nakedness of the land,
until a remark that the Commune had been feathering their nests with the
chairs and tables dispersed them laughing. The Empress's bedroom was a
great attraction, Chaplin's charming decorations being subjects of
sufficient interest, independent of the absent furniture. The
looking-glasses which spring from the walls called down ejaculations of
delight from a party of dressmakers, who carefully took notes of the
mechanism, "in order to imitate it, my dear, when Paris becomes itself
again." There was a large placard upon the wall of a kind of library,
inviting the attention of the public to the secret arrangements in a
recess whereby the Empress obtained her dresses and linen from some
manufactory of garments above, and an old lady, after having carefully
examined the elaborate details, turned away with a sigh and a shake of
the head. "How foolish of them, after all, not to have done a little for
us in order that they might have continued to abide in this paradise!"
How different was the Empress's apartment this morning, bare and crowded
with the dregs of the Paris population, from the night when I last saw
it, the night of her flight, when bed-clothes still littered the floor,
and gloves and little odds and ends of female finery told of recent
occupation! All was silent then with the stillness of a coming storm;
now the walls re-echo with a stir of unhallowed feet, and the spring
sunshine streams in at the open window accompanied by whiffs from the
garden below, while a distant cry reaches us from the street beyond of
"_Le Vengeur_," "_Le Cri du Peuple_," "_Le dernier ordre du Comite du
Salut Public_," and we detect curls of smoke about the Arch of Triumph,
which remind us that the bombardment still goes on. A reflective sentry
at the door of the _cabinet de travail_ begged me to remark the
portraits set round above the doors. "Those are the Empress's favourite
ladies," he informed me; "are they not _salopines_, one would say, of
the period of Montespan? And those were the ladies who were models for
the women of our land--no wonder that Paris should have become the
Gomorrah that it is!" In the evening the concert was given, and a
wonderful bear-garden the Imperial Palace presented. Members of the
Commune flitted about in red draperies and tried to find room on the
already crowded benches for the struggling mob, who rubbed their hot
faces with their unaccustomed white gloves, and used such language to
each other as, it is to be hoped, those august walls have seldom heard.
Meanwhile, the crowd increased in numbers, and by 8 o'clock the
reception rooms were full, and some 2,000 people still stood in a long
string in the garden outside. They behaved with the wondrous good nature
which characterizes a French crowd, laughing over the absurdity of their
predicament and waving the tickets, which they would never be enabled to
present, jestingly at one another. In course of time the whole of the
_jardin prive_ was full of people, who looked up at the lights streaming
from the windows, and sat about on chairs quietly smoking their cigars
and enjoying the lovely evening, listening to the occasional boom at
the other end of the long alley, where a bright flash which bore death
upon its wings appeared in the sky from time to time, in mockery of the
gas-lit chandeliers and feeble attempts at revelry that were going on
above our heads.

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