What will Paris do now between these dictators, sprung from heaven knows where, and the Government fled to Versailles?

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 14: No one may use white placards—they are reserved by the government.

The following is an extract from the Official Journal of 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 the Official Journal, in Paris, were broken into, the employes 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 false Official Journal."]

[Footnote 15: Here is an extract from the Official Journal upon 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."]

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 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.

"Hotel de Ville, Paris, 29th March, 1871."]



V.

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 Clement 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 Hotel 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 Hotel de Ville, had taken more petit vin than 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.



VI.

The Butte-Montmartre is en fete. 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.



VII.

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:—

"REPUBLIQUE FRANCAISE.

"LIBERTE, EGALITE, FRATERNITE.

"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 Republique!

"The representatives of the Seine:

"Louis Blanc, V. Schoelcher, Edmond Adam, Floquet, Martin Bernard, Langlois, Edouard Lockroy, Farcy, Brisson, Greppo, Milliere.

"The maires and adjoints of Paris:

"1st Arrondissement: Ad. Adam, Meline, adjoints.—2nd Arrondissement: Tirard, maire, representative of the Seine; Ad. Brelay, Cheron, Loiseau-Pinson, adjoints.—3rd Arrondissement; Bonvalet, maire; Ch. Murat, adjoint.—4th Arrondissement: Vautrain, maire; Loiseau, Callon, adjoints.—5th Arrondissement: Jourdan, adjoint.—6th Arrondissement: Herisson, maire; A. Leroy, adjoint.—7th Arrondissement: Arnaud (de l'Ariege), 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: Leo Meillet, Combes, adjoints.—14th Arrondissement: Heligon, adjoint.—15th Arrondissement: Jobbe-Duval, adjoint.—16th Arrondissement: Henri Martin, maire and representative of the Seine,—17th. Arrondissement: FRANCOIS FAVRE, maire; MALOU, VILLENEUVE, CACHEUX, adjoints.—18th. Arrondissement: CLEMENCEAU, 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 the maires of 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 the emeute. 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 the maires, 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 the maires may 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.



VIII.

Paris has this evening, the 21st of March, an air of extraordinary contentment; it has belief in the deputies and the maires, 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 employe, 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'Assemblee 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. The mairie of 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 the mairie and 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 'reactionnaires,' and that we ought to add the words 'Vive la Republique!' Those who headed the manifestation came to a halt, and a few of them went into a cafe, 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 Vendome, 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'Assemblee Nationale! Vive la Republique!' 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 Elysees, 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 Chaille. 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'Assemblee 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 Hotel, 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.



IX.

What is this fusillade? Against whom is it directed? Against the Prussians? No! Against Frenchmen, against passers-by, against those who cry "Vive la Republique 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 Vendome; 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, Vendome 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 Vendome, 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 a porte-cochere,[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 a cantiniere, 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 employe at Siraudin's?

There were many other victims—Monsieur de Pene, the editor of Paris-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?

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 18: Porte-cochere (carriage gateway).]



X.

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, the garcon d'honneur told me. They had been to the mairie to be married, but the mairie had been turned into a guard-house, and instead of the mairie and 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.



XI.

The mairie of 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 Hotel de Ville on the one hand, where the members of the Committee are sitting, formidably defended, and the Place Vendome, 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 the mairie of the Second Arrondissement and the Grand Hotel, 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 the mairie, 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 the maires and 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 cafes 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.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 19: Lieutenant-Colonel de Beaugrand had improvised staff-quarters at the Grand Hotel, 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.]



XII.

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 the mairies, 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!



XIII.

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 a porte-cochere that 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 the Varietes, 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.



XIV.

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'Hotel de Ville and the Place Vendome. 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 Hotel de Ville during the riots of the 31st October.



XV.

The news is excellent, in a few hours perhaps it will be better. We rejoice beforehand at the almost certain prospect of pacification. The sun shines, the boulevards are crowded with people, the faces of the women especially are beaming. What is the cause of all this joy? A placard has just been posted up on all the walls in the city. I copy it with pleasure.

"DEAR FELLOW CITIZENS,—I hasten to announce to you that together with the Deputies of the Seine and the Mayors of Paris, we have obtained from the Government of the National Assembly: 1st. The complete recognition of your municipal franchises; 2nd. The right of electing all the officers of the National Guard, as well as the general-in-chief; 3rd. Modifications of the law on bills; 4th. A project for a law on rents, favourable to tenants paying 1,200 francs a year, or less than that sum. Until you have confirmed my nomination, or until you name some one else in my stead, I shall continue to remain at my post to watch over the execution of these conciliatory measures that we have succeeded in obtaining, and to contribute to the well-being of the Republic!

"The Vice-Admiral and

Provisional Commander,

SAISSET

Paris, 23rd March."

Well! this is opportune and to the purpose. The National Assembly has understood that, in a town like Paris, a revolution in which a third of the population is engaged, cannot be alone actuated by motives of robbery and murder;[20] and that if some of the demands of the people are illegitimate or premature, there are at least others, which it is but right should obtain justice. Paris is never entirely in the wrong. Certainly among the authors and leaders of the 18th March, there are many who are very guilty. The murderers of General Lecomte and General Clement Thomas should be sought out and punished. All honest men must demand and expect that a minute inquiry be instituted concerning the massacres in the Place Vendome. It must be acknowledged that all the Federals, officers and soldiers, are not devils or drunkards. A few hundred men getting drunk in the cabarets—(I have perhaps been wrong to lay so much stress here upon the prevalence of this vice among the insurrectionists)—a few tipsy brutes, ought not to be sufficient to authorise us to condemn a hundred thousand men, among whom are certainly to be found some right-minded persons who are convinced of the justice of their cause. These unknown and suddenly elevated chiefs, whom the revolution has singled out, are they all unworthy of our esteem, and devoid of capacity? They possess, perhaps, a new and vital force that it would be right and perhaps necessary to utilise somehow. The ideas which they represent ought to be studied, and if they prove useful, put into practice. This is what the Assembly has understood and what it has done. By concessions which enlarge rather than diminish its influence, it puts all right-minded men, soldiers and officers, under the obligation of returning to their allegiance. Those who, having read the proclamation of Admiral Saisset, still refuse to recognise the Government, are no longer men acting for the sake of Paris and the Republic, but rioters guilty of pursuing the most criminal paths, for the gratification of their own bad passions. Thus the tares will be separated from the wheat, and torn up without mercy. Yesterday and the day before, at the Place de la Bourse, at the Place des Victoires and the Bank, we were resolved on resistance—resistance, nothing more, for none of us, I am sure, would have fired a shot without sufficient provocation—and even this resolution cost us much pain and some hesitation. We felt that in the event of our being attacked, our shots might strike many an innocent breast—and perhaps at the last moment our hearts would have failed us. Now, no thoughts of that kind can hinder us. In recognising our demand, the Assembly has got right entirely on its side, we shall now consider all rebellion against the authority of which it makes so able a use, as an act entailing immediate punishment. Until now, fearing to be abandoned or misunderstood by the Government, we had determined to obey the mayors and deputies elected by the people, but the Assembly, by its judicious conduct, has shown itself worthy confidence. Let them command, we are ready to obey.

Truly this change in the attitude of the Government is at once strange and delightful. No later than yesterday their language was quite different. The manner in which the majority received the mayors did not lead us to expect a termination so favourable to the wishes of all concerned. But this is all past, let us not recriminate. Let us rather rejoice in our present good fortune, and try and forget the dangers which seemed but now so imminent. I hear from all sides that the Deputies of the Seine and the mayors, fully empowered, are busy concluding the last arrangements. Municipal elections are talked of, for the 2nd April; thus every cause for discontent is about to disappear. Capital! Paris is satisfied. Shops re-open. The promenades are crowded with people; the Place Vendome alone does not brighten with the rest, but it soon will. The weather is lovely, people accost each other in the streets with a smile; one almost wonders they do not embrace. Is to-day Friday? No, it is Sunday. Bravo! Assembly.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 20: At the same time that the proclamation of Admiral Saisset encouraged the partizans of the Assembly, proofs were not wanting of the poverty of the Commune in money, as well as men: a new loan obtained from the Bank of France, which had already advanced half a million of francs, and the military nominations which raised Brunel, Eudes, and Duval from absolute obscurity to the rank of general. These were indications decidedly favourable to the party of order.]



XVI.

On the ground-floor of the house of my neighbour there is an upholsterer's workshop. The day before yesterday the master went out to fetch some work, and this morning he had not yet returned. In an agony of apprehension his wife went everywhere in search of him. His body has just been found at the Morgue with a bullet through its head. Some say he was walking across the Rue de la Paix on his way home, and was shot by accident; but the Journal Officiel announces that this poor man, Wahlin, was a national guard, assassinated by the revolvers of the manifestation. Whom are we to believe? Anyhow, the man is to be buried tomorrow, and his poor wife is a widow.



XVII.

What is the meaning of all this! Are we deceiving ourselves, or being deceived? We await in vain the consummation of Admiral Saisset's promises. In officially announcing that the Assembly had acceded to the just demands of the mayors and deputies, did he take upon himself to pass delusive hopes as accomplished facts? It seems pretty certain now that the Government will make no concessions, that the proclamation is only waste paper, and that the Provisional Commander of the National Guard has been leading us into error—with a laudable intention doubtless—or else has himself been deceived likewise. The united efforts of the Deputies of the Seine and the Mayors of Paris have been unequal to rouse the apathy of the Assembly.[21] In vain did Louis Blanc entreat the representatives of France to approve the conciliatory conduct of the representatives of Paris. "May the responsibility of what may happen be on your own heads!" cried M. Clemenceau. He was right; a little condescension might have saved all; such obstinacy is fatal. Deprived of the countenance of the Assembly, and left to themselves, the Deputies and Mayors of Paris, desirous above all of avoiding civil war, have been obliged to accede to the wishes of the Central Committee, and insist upon the municipal elections being proceeded with immediately. They could not have acted otherwise, and yet it is humiliating for them to have to bow before superior force, and their authority is compromised by so doing. What the Assembly, representing the whole of France, could have done with no loss of dignity, and even with honour to itself, the former accomplish only at the risk of losing their influence; what to the Assembly would have been an honourable concession is to them dangerous although necessary submission. The Committee would have been annulled if the Government had consented to the municipal elections, but thanks to a tardy consent, rung from the Deputies and Mayors of Paris, it triumphs. The result of the humiliation to which the representatives of Paris have been forced to submit to prevent the effusion of blood, will be the entire abdication of their authority, which will remain vested in the Central Committee until the members of the Commune are elected. Abandoned by the Government since the departure of the chief of the executive power and the ministers, we rallied round the representatives, who, unsustained by the Government, are obliged to submit to the revolutionists. We must now choose between the Commune and anarchy.

Therefore, to-day, Sunday, the 26th March, the male population of Paris is hurrying to the poll. It is in vain that the journals have begged the people not to vote; the elections were only announced yesterday, and the electors have had no time to reconsider the choice they have to make, and yet they insist on voting. Those who decline to obey the suggestions of the Central Committee, will re-elect the late mayors or choose among the deputies, but vote they will. The present attitude of the regular Government has done much towards furthering the revolution. The mistakes of the Assembly have diminished in the eyes of the public the crime of revolt. Everywhere the murder of Generals Clement Thomas and Lecomte is openly regretted; but those who repeat that the Central Committee declares having had nothing to do with it, are listened to with patience. The rumour that they were shot by soldiers gains ground, and seems less incredulously received. As to the massacres of the Rue de la Paix, we are told that this event is enveloped in mystery, that the evidence is most contradictory, etc., etc.[22] There is evidently a decided reactionary movement in favour of the partizans of the Commune. Without approving their acts their activity is incontestable. They have done much in a short time. People exclaim, "There are men for you!" This state of things is very alarming to all those who have remained faithful to the Assembly, which in spite of its errors has not ceased to be the legal representative of the country. It is a cruel position for the Parisians who are obliged to choose between a regular Government which they would desire to obey, but which by its faults renders such obedience impossible, and an illegitimate power, that, although guilty in its acts, and stained with crime, still represents the opinions of the republican majority. By to-night, therefore, the Commune will have been called into existence; an illegal existence it may be argued, doubtless, by the partizans of constitutional legality, who would consider as null and void elections carried on without the consent of the nation, as represented by the Assembly. Legal or not, however, the elections have taken place, and the fact alone is of some importance. In a few hours the Executive Power of the Republic will have to treat, whether it will or no, with a force which has constituted itself with as much legality as it had in its power to assume under the circumstances.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 21: The news of the check which the Maires of Paris had suffered in the Assembly suddenly loosened the bond which for two days had united the friends of order, and profound discouragement seized upon the public mind. It was at this moment that the deputies from the Committee presented themselves at the Mairie of the first arrondissement, preceded by three pieces of artillery, a very warlike accompaniment to a deputation. It was arranged that the Communal election should be managed by the existing Maires, and that the battalions of each quarter of the city, whether federal or not, should occupy the voting places of their sections; but this did not prevent the Committee on the following morning occupying the Mairie of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, in spite of the arrangement, by their most devoted battalions.]

[Footnote 22: The following are the terms in which the Commune spoke of the events of the 18th March, and excused the murder of the two generals:

"CITIZENS,—The day of the 18th of March, which for interested reasons has been travestied in the most odious manner, will be called in history, The Day of the People's Justice!

The Government, now subverted—always maladroit—rushed into a conflict without considering either its own unpopularity, or the fraternal feeling that animates the armies; the entire army, when ordered to commit fratricide, replied with cries of "Vive la Republique!" "Vive la Garde Nationale!"

Two men alone, who had rendered themselves unpopular by acts which we now pronounce as iniquitous, were struck down in a moment of popular indignation.

The Committee of the Federation of the National Guard, in order to render homage to truth, declare it was a stranger to these two executions.

At the present moment the ministries are constituted, the prefect of police has assumed his duties, the public offices are again active, and we invite all citizens to maintain the utmost calmness and order."]



XVIII.

Crowds in the streets and promenades. This evening all the theatres will be re-opened. In the meantime the voting is going on. The weather is delightful, so I take a stroll along the promenades. Under the colonnade of the Chatelet there is a long line of electors awaiting their turn. I fancy that in this quarter the candidates of the Central Committee will be surely elected. Women, in bright-coloured dresses and fresh spring bonnets, are walking to and fro. I hear some one say that there are a great many cannon at the Hotel de Ville. Two friends meet together in the square of the Arts et Metiers.—"Are you alone, madame?" says one lady to another.—"Yes, madame; I am waiting for my husband, who is gone to vote."

A child, who is skipping, cries out, "Mama, mama, what is the Commune?"

The fiacre drivers make the revolution an excuse for asking extravagant fares; this does not prevent their having very decided political opinions. One who, drove one would scarcely have been approved of by the Central Committee.—"Cocher, what is the fare?" I ask.—"Five francs, monsieur."—"All right; take me to the mairie Place Saint-Sulpice." —"Beg pardon, monsieur, but if you are going to vote, it will be ten francs!"

On the Boulevard de Strasbourg there are streams of people dressed in holiday attire; itinerant dealers in tops, pamphlets, souvenirs of the siege—bits of black bread, made on purpose, and framed and glazed, also bits of shells—and scented soap, and coloured pictures; crowds of beggars everywhere. In this part of the town the revolution looks very much like a fair.

At the mairie of the 6th Arrondissement there are very few people. I enter into conversation with one of the officials there. He tells me he has never seen voting carried on with greater spirit.

I meet a friend who has just returned from Belleville, and ask him the news, of course.—"The voting is progressing in capital order," he tells me; "the men go up to the poll as they would mount the breach. They have no choice but to obey blindly."—"The Central Committee?" I inquire.—"Yes, but the Committee itself only obeys orders." —"Whose?"—"Why those of the International, of course."

At a corner near the boulevards, a compact little knot of people is stationed in front of a poster. I fancy they are studying the proclamation of one of the candidates, but it turns out only to be a play-bill. The crowd continues to thicken; the cafes are crammed; gold chignons are plentiful enough at every table; here and there a red Garibaldi shirt is visible, like poppies amongst the corn. Every now and then a horseman gallops wildly past with dispatches from one section to another. The results of some of the elections are creeping out. At Montrouge, Bercy, Batignolles, and the Marais, they tell us the members of the Central Committee are elected by a very large majority. Here the hoarse voice of a boy strikes in,—"Buy the account of the grand conspiracy of Citoyen Thiers against the Republic!" Then another chimes in with wares of a less political and more vulgar nature. The movement to and fro and the excitement is extraordinary. While the populace basks in the sun the destiny of the city is being decided.—"M. Desmarest is elected for the 9th Arrondissement," says some one close to me.—"Lesueur is capital in the 'Partie de Piquet,'" says another. Oh! people of Paris!



XIX.

It is over. We have a "Municipal Council," according to some; a "Commune," according to others. Not quite legally elected, but sufficiently so. Eighty councillors, sixty of whom are quite unknown men. Who can have recommended them, or, rather, imposed them on the electors? Can there really be some occult power at work under cover of the ex-Central Committee? Is the Commune only a pretext, and are we at the debut of a social and political revolution? I overheard a partizan of the new doctrines say,—"The Proletariat is vindicating its rights, which have been unjustly trampled on by the aristocratic bourgeoisie. This is the workman's 1789!"

Another person expresses the same thing in rather a different form. "This is the revolt of the canaille against all kind of supremacy, the supremacy of fortune, and the supremacy of intellect. The equality of man before the law has been acknowledged, now they want to proclaim the equality of intellect. Soon universal suffrage will give place to the drawing of lots. There was a time in Athens when the names of the archontes were taken haphazard out of a bag, like the numbers at loto."

However, the revolution has not yet clearly defined its tendencies, and in the meantime what are we to think of the unknown beings who represent it? A man in whom I have the greatest confidence, and who has passed his life in studying questions of social science, and who therefore has mixed in nearly all the revolutionary circles, and is personally acquainted with the chiefs, said to me just now, in speaking of the new Municipal Council,[23]—"It will be an assemblage of a very motley character. There will be much good and much bad in it. We may safely divide it into three distinct parts: firstly, ten or twelve men belonging to the International, who have both thought and studied and may be able to act, mixed with these several foreigners; secondly, a number of young men, ardent but inexperienced, some of whom are imbued with Jacobin principles; thirdly, and by far the largest portion, unsuccessful plotters in former revolutions, journalists, orators, and conspirators,—noisy, active, and effervescent, having no particular tie amongst themselves except the absence of any common bond of unity with the two former divisions, and being confounded now with one, now with the other. The members of the International alone have any real political value; they are Socialists. The Jacobin element is decidedly dangerous."—If in reality the Communal Assembly is thus composed, how will it act? Let us wait and see; in the meantime the city is calm. Never did so critical a moment wear so calm an exterior. By the bye, where are the Prussians?[24]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 23: The Figaro gives the following list of those who held service under the Commune:—

Anys-el-Bittar, Librarian MSS. Department, Bibliotheque Nationale. (Egyptian)

Biondetti, Surgeon 233rd Battalion. (Italian.)

Babiok, a Member of the Commune. (Pole.)

Beoka, Adjutant to the 207th Battalion. (Pole.)

Cluseret, General, Delegate of War. (American.)

Cernatesco, Surgeon of Francs Tireurs. (Pole.)

Crapulinski, Colonel of Staff. (Pole.)

Carneiro de Cunha, Surgeon 38th Battalion. (Portuguese.)

Charalambo, Surgeon of the Federal Scouts. (Pole.)

Dombrowski, General. (Russian.)

Dombrowski (his brother), Colonel of Staff. (Russian.)

Durnoff, Commandant of Legion. (Pole.)

Echenlaub, Colonel. (German.)

Ferrera Gola, General Manager of Field Hospitals. (Portuguese.)

Frankel, a Member of the Commune. (Prussian.)

Giorok, Commandant of the Fort d'Issy. (Valachian.)

Grejorok, Commandant of the Artillery at Montmartre.(Valachian.)

Kertzfeld, Chief Manager of Field Hospitals. (German.)

Iziquerdo, Surgeon of the 88th Battalion. (Pole.)

Jalowski, Surgeon of the Zouaves de la Republique. (Pole.)

Kobosko, Despatch Bearer.

La Cecilia, General. (Italian.)

Landowski, Aide-de-Camp of General Dombrowski. (Pole.)

Mizara, Commandant of the 104th Battalion. (Italian.)

Maratuch, Surgeon's mate of the 72nd Battalion. (Hungarian.)

Moro, Commandant of the 22nd Battalion. (Italian.)

Okolowicz and his brothers, General and Staff Officers. (Poles.)

Ostyn, a Member of the Commune. (Belgian.)

Olinski, Chief of the 17th Legion. (Pole.)

Pisani, Aide-de-Camp of Flourens. (Italian.)

Potampenki, Aide-de-Camp of General Dombrowski. (Pole.)

Ploubinski, Staff Officer. (Pole.)

Pazdzierswski, Commandant of the Fort de Vanves. (Pole.)

Piazza, Chief of Legion. (Italian.)

Pugno, Music-manager at the Opera-house. (Italian.)

Romanelli, Manager of the War Offices. (Italian.)

Rozyski, Surgeon of the 144th Battalion. (Pole.)

Rubinowicz, Surgeon of the Marines. (Pole.)

Syneck, Surgeon of the 151st Battalion. (German.)

Skalski, Surgeon of the 240th Battalion. (Pole.)

Soteriade, Surgeon. (Spaniard.)

Thaller, Under Governor of the Fort de Bicetre. (German.)

Van Ostal, Commandant of the 115th Battalion. (Dutch.)

Vetzel, Commandant of the Southern Forts. (German.)

Wroblewski, General Commandant of the Southern Army. (Pole.)

Witton, Surgeon of the 72nd Battalion. (American.)

Zengerler, Surgeon of the 74th Battalion, (German.)]

[Footnote 24: The Prussians and the Commune, see Appendix 3.]



XX.

Who can help being carried away by the enthusiasm of a crowd? I am not a political man, I am only an observer who sees, hears, and feels.

I was on the Place de l'Hotel de Ville at the moment when the names of the successful candidates were proclaimed, and the emotion is still fresh upon me.[25] There were perhaps a hundred thousand men there, assembled from all quarters of the city. The neighbouring streets were also full, and the bayonets glittering in the sun filled the Place with brilliant flashes like miniature lightning. In the centre of the facade of the building a platform was erected, over which presided a statue of the Republic, wearing a Phrygian cap. The bronze basso-relievo of Henry IV. had been carefully hidden with clusters of flags. Each window was alive with faces. I saw several women on the roof, and the gamins were everywhere, hanging on to the sculptured ornaments, or riding fearlessly on the shoulders of the marble busts. One by one the battalions had taken up their position on the Place with their bands. When they were all assembled they struck up the Marseillaise, which was re-echoed by a thousand voices. It was grand in the extreme, and the magnificent hymn, which late defeats had shorn of its glory, swelled forth again with all its old splendour revived. Suddenly the cannon is heard, the voices rise louder and louder; a sea of standards, bayonets, and human heads waves backwards and forwards in front of the platform. The cannon roars, but we only hear it between the intervals of the hymn. Then all the sounds are confounded in one universal shout, that shout of the vast multitude which seems to have but one heart and one voice. The members of the Committee, each with a tricolor scarf across his breast, have taken their places on the platform. One of them reads out the names of the elected councillors. Then the cannon roars once more, but is almost drowned by the deafening huzzas of the crowd. Oh! people of Paris, who on the day of the "Crosse en l'air"[26] got tipsy in the wine-shops of Montmartre, whose ranks furnished the murderers of Thomas and Lecomte, who in the Rue de la Paix shot down unconscious passengers, who are capable of the wildest extravagance and most execrable deeds, you are also in your days of glory, grand and magnificent, when a volcano of generous passions rages within, and the hearts even of those who condemn you most, are scorched in the flames.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 25: The result of the voting was made known at four o'clock on the 28th March. The papers devoted to the Commune asserted, on the following day, that two hundred and fifteen battalions were assembled on that day, and that the average strength of each corps was one thousand men. Who could have believed that the Place de l'Hotel de Ville was capable of accommodating so many! This farcical assertion of the two hundred and fifteen battalions has passed into a proverb.]

[Footnote 26: When they turned the butt-ends (crosses) of their guns in the air, as a sign they would not fight.]



XXI.

"Citizens," says the Official Journal this morning, "your Commune is constituted." Then follows decree upon decree. White posters are being stuck up everywhere. Why are they at the Hotel de Ville, if not to publish decrees? The conscription is abolished. We shall see no more poor young fellows marching through the town with their numbers in their caps, and fired with that noble patriotism which is imbibed in the cabarets at so much a glass. We shall have no more soldiers, but to make up for that we shall all be National Guards. There's a glorious decree, as Edgar Poe says. As to the landlords, their vexation is extreme; even the tenants do not seem so satisfied as they ought to be. Not to have to pay any rent is very delightful, certainly, but they scarcely dare believe in such good fortune. Thus when Orpheus, trying to rescue Eurydice from "the infernal regions," interrupts with "his harmonious strains" the tortures of eternal punishment, Prometheus did not doubtless show as much delight as he ought to have done, on discovering that the beak of the vulture was no longer gnawing at his vitals, "scarcely daring to believe in such good fortune." Orpheus is the Commune; Eurydice, Liberty; "the infernal regions," the Government of the 4th September; "the harmonious strains," the decrees of the Commune; Prometheus, the tenant; and the vulture, the landlord!

In plain terms, however—forgive me for joking on such a subject—the decree which annuls the payment of the rents for the quarters ending October 1870, January 1871, and April 1871, does not appear to me at all extravagant, and really I do not see what there is to object to in the following lines which accompany it:—

"In consideration of the expenses of the war having been chiefly sustained by the industrial, commercial, and working portion of the population, it is but just that the proprietors of houses and land should also bear their part of the burthen...."

Let us talk it over together, Mr. Landlord. You have a house and I live in it. It is true that the chimneys smoke, and that you most energetically refuse to have them repaired. However, the house is yours, and you possess most decidedly the right of making a profit by it. Understand, once for all, that I never contest your right. As for me, I depend upon my wit, I do not possess much, but I have a tool—it may be either a pen, or a pencil, or a hammer—which enables me, in the ordinary course of things, to live and to pay with more or less regularity my quarter's rent. If I had not possessed this tool, you would have taken good care not to let me inhabit your house or any part or portion thereof, because you would have considered me in no position to pay you your rent. Now, during the war my tool has unquestionably rendered me but poor service. It has remained ignobly idle in the inkstand, in the folio, or on the bench. Not only have I been unable to use it, but I have also in some sort lost the knack of handling it; I must have some time to get myself into working order again. While I was working but little, and eating less, what were you doing? Oh! I do not mean to say that you were as flourishing as in the triumphant days of the Empire, but still I have not heard of any considerable number of landlords being found begging at the corners of the streets, and I do not fancy you made yourselves conspicuous by your assiduous attendance at the Municipal Cantines. I have even heard that you or many of your brother-landlords took pretty good care not to be in Paris during the Prussian siege, and that you contented yourselves with forming the most ardent wishes, for the final triumph of French arms, from beneath the wide-spreading oaks of your chateaux in Touraine and Beauce, or from the safe haven of a Normandy fishing village; while we, accompanied it is true by your most fervent prayers, took our turn at mounting guard, on the fortifications during the bitter cold nights, or knee-deep in the mud of the trenches. However, I do not blame those who sought safety in flight; each person is free to do as he pleases; what I object to is your coming back and saying, "During seven or eight months you have done no work, you have been obliged to pawn your furniture to buy bread for your wife and children; I pity you from the bottom of my heart—be so kind as to hand me over my three quarters' rent." No, a thousand times no; such a demand is absurd, wicked, ridiculous; and I declare that if there is no possible compromise between the strict execution of the law and his decree of the Commune, I prefer, without the least hesitation, to abide by the latter; I prefer to see a little poverty replace for a time the long course of prosperity that has been enjoyed by this very small class of individuals, than to see the last articles of furniture of five hundred thousand suffering wretches, put up to auction and knocked down for one-twentieth part of their value. There must, however, be some way of conciliating the interests of both landlords and tenants. Would it be sufficient to accord delays to the latter, and force the former to wait a certain time for their money? I think not; if I were allowed three years to pay off my three quarters' rent, I should still be embarrassed. The tool of the artisan is not like the peasant's plot of ground, which is more productive after having lain fallow. During the last few sad months, when I had no work to do, I was obliged to draw upon the future, a future heavily mortgaged; when I shall perhaps scarcely be able to meet the expenses of each day, will there be any possibility of acquitting the debts of the past? You may sell my furniture if the law gives you the right to do so, but I shall not pay!

The only possible solution, believe me, is that in favour of the tenants, only it ought not to be applied in so wholesale a fashion. Inquiries should be instituted, and to those tenants from whom the war has taken away all possibility of payment an unconditional receipt should be delivered: to those who have suffered less, a proportionate reduction should be allowed; but those whom the invasion has not ruined or seriously impoverished—and the number is large, among provision merchants, cafe keepers, and private residents—let those pay directly. In this way the landlords will lose lees than one may imagine, because it will be the lowest rents that will be forfeited. The decree of the Commune is based on a right principle, but too generally applied.

The new Government—for it is a Government—does not confine itself to decrees. It has to install itself in its new quarters and make arrangements.[27]

In a few hours it has organized more than ten committees—the executive, the financial, the public-service, the educational, the military, the legal, and the committee of public safety. No end of committees and committeemen: it is to be hoped that the business will be promptly despatched!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 27: Organisation of the Commissions on the 31st of March:

Executive Commission.—Citizens Eudes, Tridou, Vaillant, Lefrancais, Duval, Felix Pyat, Bergeret.

Commission of Finance.—Victor Clement, Varlin, Jourde, Beslay, Regere.

Military Commission.—General E. Duval, General Bergeret, General Eudes, Colonel Chardon, Colonel Flourens, Colonel Pindly, Commandant Ranvier.

Commission of Public Justice.—Ranc, Protot, Leo Meillet, Vermorel, Ledroit, Babick.

Commission of Public Safety.—Raoul Rigault, Ferre, Assy, Cournet, Oudet, Chalain, Gerardin.

Victualling Commission.—Dereure, Champy, Ostyn, Clement, Parizel, Emile Clement, Fortune Henry.

Commission of Industry and Trade.—Malon, Frankel, Theiz, Dupont, Avrial, Loiseau-Pinson, Eugene Gerardin, Puget.

Commission of Foreign Affairs.—Delescluze, Ranc, Paschal Grousset, Ulysse Parent, Arthur Arnould, Antoine Arnauld, Charles Gerardin.

Commission of Public Service.—Ostyn, Billioray, Clement (J.B.) Martelet, Mortier, Rastoul.

Commission of Education.—Jules Valles, Doctor Goupil, Lefevre, Urbain,[28] Albert Leroy, Verdure, Demay, Doctor Robinet.]

[Footnote 28: Memoir, see Appendix XIII.]



XXII.

Come, let us understand each other. Who are you, members of the Commune? Those among you who are in some sort known to the public do not possess, however, enough of its confidence to make up for the want of knowledge it has of the others. Have a care how you excite our mistrust. You have published decrees that certainly are open to criticism, but that are not entirely obnoxious, for their object is to uphold the interests of that portion of the population, which you most particularly represent, and from whom you hold your commission. We will forgive the decrees if you do nothing worse. Yesterday, the 30th March, during the night (why in the night?) some men wearing a red scarf and followed by several others with arms, presented themselves at the Union Insurance Company. On the porter refusing to deliver up the keys of the offices he was arrested. They then proceeded to break open the doors with the butt-end of their muskets, and put seals on the strong box. What can this portend? Have you been elected to break open private offices and put seals on cash-boxes? That same night, a friend of mine who happened to be passing across one of the bridges on his way home, noticed that the windows of the Hotel de Ville were brilliantly lighted. Could they be having a ball already? he wondered. He made inquiries and discovered that it was not a ball, but a banquet; three or four hundred National Guards from Belleville had invaded the apartments and had ordered a dinner to be served to them. They were accompanied by a corresponding number of female companions, and were drinking, talking, and singing to their hearts' content. What do you mean by that, members of the Commune? Have you been elected to keep open-house, and do you propose to inscribe over the entrance of the municipal palace: "Ample accommodation for feasts and banquets," as a companion to your motto of "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity?"



XXIII.

"I tell you, you shall not go!"—"But I will."—"Well, you may, but not your furniture."—"And who shall prevent my carrying off my furniture if I choose?"—"I will."—"I defy you!"—"Thief!"—"Robber!"

This animated discussion was being carried on at the door of a house, in front of which a cart filled with furniture was standing; a crowd of street boys was fast assembling, and the heads of curious neighbours appeared grinning in all the windows.

A partizan of the Commune had determined to profit by the decree. Matters at first had seemed to go on quietly. The concierge, taken aback by the sudden apparition of the van, had not summoned up courage to prevent the furniture from being stowed away in it. The landlord, however, had got scent of the affair, and had hastened to this spot. Now, the tenant was a determined character, and as the van-men refused to mix themselves up in the fray, he himself shouldered his last article of furniture and carried it to the van. He was about to place it within cover of the awning, when the landlord, like a miser deprived of his treasure, seized it and deposited it on the pavement. The tenant re-grasped his spoil and thrust it again into the cart, from whence it was instantly drawn forth again by the enraged landlord. This game was carried on for some time, each as determined as the other, grasping; snatching, and pulling this unfortunate piece of furniture until one wrench, stronger than the former, entirely dislocated its component parts, and laid it in a ruined heap upon the ground. This was the moment for the tenant to show himself a man of spirit. Taking advantage of the surprise of the landlord, he swept the broken remains of his property deftly into the van, bounded on to the driver's seat, shook the reins, cracked his whip, and started off at a thundering gallop, pursued by the huzzas of the crowd, the cries of the van-men, and the oaths of the disappointed landlord. The van and its team of lean cattle were soon lost to view, and the landlord was left alone on his doorstep, shaking his fist and muttering "Brigand!"



XXIV.

What a quantity of luggage! Even those who had the good fortune of witnessing the emigration before the siege would never have supposed that there could be so much luggage in Paris. Well-to-do looking trunks with brass ornaments, black wooden boxes, hairy trunks, leathern hat-boxes, and cardboard bonnet-boxes, portmanteaux and carpet bags are piled up on vehicles of every description, of which more than ten thousand block up the roads leading to the railway stations. Everybody is wild to get away; it is whispered about that the Commune, the horrid Commune, is about to issue a decree forbidding the Parisians to quit Paris. So all prudent individuals are making off, with their bank-notes and shares in their pocket-books. I see a man I know, walking very fast, wearing a troubled expression on his face. I ask him where he is going.—"you do not know what has happened to me?" he cries. I confess I do not.—"The most extraordinary thing: I am condemned to death!"—"You!" I exclaim.—"Yes! by the Commune!"—"And wherefore?" I ask.—"Because I write on the Figaro."—"Why, I never knew that!"—"Oh! not very often; but last year I addressed a letter to the Editor, to explain to him that my new farce called 'My Aunt's Garters' had nothing at all to do with 'My Uncle's Braces,' which is by somebody else. You understand that I did not want to change the title, which is rather good of its kind, so I wrote to the Figaro, and as my letter was inserted, and as the Commune condemns all the contributors.... You see ...!"—"Perfectly! Why, my dear fellow, you ought to have been off before. Of course you go to Versailles?"—"Why, yes."—"By the railway?" I cannot help having a joke at his expense.—"Yes, of course."—"Well, if I were you, I would not, really; the engine might blow up, or you might run into a luggage train. Such things do happen in the best of times, and I think the Commune capable of anything to get rid of so dangerous an adversary."—"You don't mean to say," says the poor little, man in a tremor, "that they would go to such lengths! Well, at any rate I will travel by the road."[29]

A little farther up the Boulevard des Italiens I see another acquaintance. "What, still in Paris?" I say, shaking hands with him.—"I am off this evening," he answers.—"Are you condemned to death?"—"No, but I shall be tried to-night."—"The devil! Do you write on the Figaro!"—"No, no, it is quite a long story. Three years ago, I made the acquaintance of a charming blonde, who reciprocated my advances, and made herself highly agreeable. In a word, I was smitten. Unfortunately there was a husband in the case!"—"The devil there was!"—"He made inquiries, and found out who I was, and ..."—"And invited you to mortal combat?"—"Oh! no, he is a hosier. But from that day forth he became my most bitter enemy."—"Very disagreeable of him, I am sure, but I do not see how the enmity of this retail dealer obliges you to quit Paris?"—"Why, you see he has a cousin who is elected a member of the Commune."—"I understand your uneasiness; you fear the latent revenge of this unreasonable hosier."—"I am to be tried to-night, but it is not the fear of death which makes me fly. It is worse than that. Those Hotel de Ville people are capable of anything, and I hear they are going to make a law on divorce. I know the malignity of the lady's husband—and I believe he is capable of getting a divorce, and forcing me to marry her!"

So, under one pretext and another, almost everyone is going away. As for me, I am like a hardened Parisian—my boots have a rooted dislike to any other pavement than that of the boulevards. Who is right, I, or those who are rushing off? Is there really danger here for those who are not ardently attached to the principles of the Commune? I try to believe not. True there have been arrests—domiciliary visits and other illegal and tyrannical acts—but I do not think it can last.[30] May we not hope that the dangerous element in the Commune will soon be neutralised by the more intelligent portion of the Municipal Council, if, indeed, that portion exists? I cannot believe that a revolution, accomplished by one-third of the population of Paris, and tolerated by another (the remaining fraction having taken flight), can be entirely devoid of the spirit of generosity and usefulness, capable only of appropriating the funds of others, and unjustly imprisoning innocent citizens. Besides, even if the Commune, instead of trying to make us forget the bloody deeds with which it preceded its establishment, or seeking to repair the faults of which it has been guilty, on the contrary continues to commit such excesses, thus harrying to its ruin a city which has already suffered so much, even then I will not leave it. I will cling to it to the last, as a sailor who has grown to love the ship that has borne him gallantly in so many voyages, clings to the wreck of his favourite, and refuses to be saved without it.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 29: The following is a document which completely justifies these apprehensions:—

"30th March—The Commune of Paris—Orders from the Central Committee to the officer in command, of the battalion on guard at the station of Ouest-Ceinture.

"To stop all trains proceeding in the direction of Paris at the Ouest-Ceinture station.

"To place an energetic man night and day at this post. This man is to mount guard with a beam, which he is to throw across the rails at the arrival of each train, so as to cause it to run off the rails, if the engine-driver refuses to stop.