Chapter 7

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. Clémenceau. 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 Clément 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.

NOTES:

[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.

[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 République!” “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 Châtelet 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 Hôtel de Ville. Two friends meet together in the square of the Arts et Métiers.—“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 cafés 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 début 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]

NOTES:

[23] The _Figaro_ gives the following those who held service under the Commune:—

Anys-el-Bittar, Librarian MSS. Department, Bibliothèque 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 République. (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 Bicêtre. (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.)]

[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’Hôtel 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 façade 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.

NOTES:

[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’Hôtel de Ville was capable of accommodating so many! This farcical assertion of the two hundred and fifteen battalions has passed into a proverb.

[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 Hôtel 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 Poë 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....”