Part 6

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 Hôtel de Ville on the one hand, where the members of the Committee are sitting, formidably defended, and the Place Vendôme, crammed with insurgents, on the other. Is it civil war—civil war, with all its horrors, that is about to commence? A company of Gardes Mobiles has joined the battalions of Order. Pupils of the Ecole Polytechnique come and go between the _mairie_ of the Second Arrondissement and the Grand Hôtel, where Admiral Saisset and his staff are said to be installed.[19] A triple line of National Guards closes the entrance of the Rue Vivienne against carriages and everybody who does not belong to the quarter. Nevertheless, a large number of people, eager for information, manage to pass the sentries in spite of the rule. On the Place de la Bourse a great crowd discusses, and gesticulates around the piled bayonets which glitter in the sun. I notice that the pockets of the National Guards are crammed full; a large number of cartridges has been distributed.

The orders are strict: no one is to quit his post. There are men, however, who have been standing there, without sleep, for twenty-four hours. No one must leave the camp of the Friends of Order even to go and dine. Those who have no money either have rations given them or are provided at the expense of 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 cafés are closed.

At such a moment as this, a single accidental shot (several such have happened this morning; a woman standing at a window at the corner of the Rue Saint Marc was nearly killed by the carelessness, of one of the Guards),—a single shot, a cry even, or a menacing gesture would suffice to kindle the blaze. Nobody. moves or speaks. I feel myself tremble before the possibility of an irreparable disaster; it is a solemn and terrible moment.

The battalion from Belleville presents arms; we reply, and they pass on. The danger is over; we breathe again. In a few seconds the crowd has returned to the boulevards.

NOTES:

[19] Lieutenant-Colonel de Beaugrand had improvised staff-quarters at the Grand Hôtel, and the nomination of Admiral Saisset, together with M. Schoelcher and Langlois, had strengthened the enmity of the two parties. The Central Committee, seeing the danger which threatened, announced that the Communal elections were adjourned to Sunday the 26th March.

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-cochère_ 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 _Variétés_, 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’Hôtel de Ville and the Place Vendôme. They are very numerous, and have lots of artillery. Why do they not act on the offensive? Or do they want, as we do, to avoid a conflict? Certainly our hand shall not be the first to spill French blood. These hours of hesitation on both sides calm men’s minds. The deputies and mayors of Paris are trying to obtain from the National Assembly the recognition of the municipal franchise. If the Government has the good sense to make these concessions, which are both legitimate and urgent, rather than remain doggedly on the defensive, with the conviction that it has right on its ride; if, in a word, it remembers the well-known maxim, “_Summum jus, summa injuria_,” the horrors of civil war may be averted. We are told, and I fancy correctly, that the Federal Guards are not without fear concerning the issue of the events into which they have hurried. The chiefs must also be uneasy. Even those who have declared themselves irreconcileable in the hour of triumph would not perhaps be sorry now if a little condescension on the part of the Assembly furnished them with a pretext of not continuing the rebellion. Just now, several Guards of the 117th Battalion, a part of which has declared for the Central Committee, who happened to be passing, stopped to chat with our outposts. Civil war to the knife did not at all appear to be their most ardent desire. One of them said: “We were called to arms, what could we do but obey? They give us our pay, and so here we are.” Were they sincere in this? Did they come with the hope of joining us, or to spy into what we were doing? Others, however, either more frank or less clever at deception, declared that they wanted the Commune, and would have, it at any price. This, however, was by far the smaller number; the majority of the insurgents are of the opinion of these men who joined in conversation with us. It is quite possible to believe that some understanding might be brought about. A fact has just been related to me which confirms me in my opinion.

The Comptoir d’Escompte was occupied by a post of Federals. A company of Government Guards from the 9th Arrondissement marched up to take possession. “You have been here for two whole days; go home and rest,” said the officer in command of the latter. But the Federals obstinately refused to be sent away. The officer insisted.—“We are in our own quarter, you are from Belleville; it is our place to guard the Comptoir d’Escompte.”—It was all of no avail until the officer said: “Go away directly, and we will give you a hundred francs.”—They did not wait for the offer to be repeated, but accepted the money and marched off. Now men who are willing to sell their consciences at two francs a head—for there were fifty of them—cannot have any very formidable political opinions. I forgot to say that this post of Federals was commanded by the Italian Tibaldi, the same who had been arrested in one of the passages of the Hôtel de Ville during the riots of the 31st October.

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 Clément 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 Vendôme. 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 Vendôme 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.

NOTES:

[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.