Chapter 4
Foul is the bird that soils her own nest! As though they had not suffered enough of mortification and defeat at the hands of the enemy, the Parisians have succeeded in emptying the cup of disgrace to the dregs by dragging down the monument of their military glory, amid hoots and hisses, and toppling over the effigy of their greatest soldier-hero on to a bed of mire, at the same time publicly tearing the tricoloured national flag which has for so many years led their armies to victory. Upon the official announcement some days back that the Vendôme Column was to be sacrificed as an insult to the principles of fraternity, everybody laughed and thought it a good joke, never believing that the plan would be carried out, even in spite of the ominous scaffoldings and curtains which rose around its base. A few days later we were told that it had been sawn through, and that a solemn Festival would be held to commemorate this new display of liberty. We thought the party of Order would protest; that the veterans of the Invalides would make a movement; that the mass of the population would insist upon the abandonment of such a piece of folly. But we forgot the state of coma into which respectable Paris has fallen, and that those who had allowed themselves to be ground down by a tyrannical few would scarcely bestir themselves in defence of their public monuments. It became apparent that the column was really doomed, and the Rue de la Paix was crowded by an expectant multitude at about 3 o'clock on Monday afternoon; the balconies were filled with ladies; all the windows were pasted with paper to neutralize the expected concussion, while cake and newspaper vendors and _marchands de coco_ plied a busy trade, and elbowed their way about among the people down below. Three ropes had been fastened round the top of the column beneath the statue, communicating with a crazy-looking windlass and anchor placed in the centre of the road at the entrance of the Rue Neuve des Capucines, and a long narrow dung heap filled with sand and branches had been spread in the square to deaden the shock of the falling mass. Public excitement was at its height, and the strangest surmises went from mouth to mouth as to how far the statue would be thrown, whether balconies would fall and slates be shuffled down, and whether the great weight would or would not crash through the vaulted arch into the sewers under the road. Still the crowd increased in numbers, when at about 4 o'clock a cordon of National Guards was formed, who pushed back the people as far as the Rue des Augustins, leaving an empty space along the Rue de la Paix, which was duly watered in true Parisian style, and became the arena for a display of equestrian prowess on the part of sundry officers and members of the Commune. They rattled backwards and forwards at full gallop, and made figures of eight, and turned and twisted in a marvellous manner, suggestive rather of a circus than a barrack-yard; but their evolutions served to amuse the crowd, who waited patiently until sunset, when it became evident that the affair would be put off until the morrow. It turned out that the members of the artistic federation who, with Courbet at their head, had decided on this piece of Vandalism, had been playing off a little practical joke upon the crowd, for their preparations were not complete, and workmen were still hacking at the stonework from behind their curtain screen until evening had settled into night. With the easy good nature of a Paris crowd, everybody quietly went home, a few disappointed at the failure of a promised excitement, but by far the greater number rejoicing in their hearts at the reprieve of the bronze pillar which they had been accustomed from childhood to regard with pride. Tuesday's _Officiel_ positively announced the ceremony for that day at 2, and the concourse was greater than ever. The Rue de la Paix and the space behind, up to the steps of the New Opera, was a sea of heads, and the _élite_ of Communal aristocracy who held passes to the Square itself were forced to elbow their way and struggle through relays of guards long before the prescribed hour in order to be certain of getting there at all. So far all their arrangements were so bad as to suggest misgivings as to the result of the attempt. Three meagre ropes were to do the deed, while two beams, applied one on either side the column, were to give it the proper inclination as it fell. Now, every one knows that, from some fault in its construction, the Column has always leant a little towards the Ministère des Cultes, and people moved restlessly about, uncertain where to station themselves, lest the tottering mass, once set in motion, should fall in an entirely different direction from the one intended. The bed, too, which was to receive it seemed strangely small and narrow, and it appeared a matter of doubt whether the bronze Emperor might not force his way into one of the adjoining houses, and pay a visit as little desired as it was expected. Meanwhile, a party of workmen continued to drive wedges into the space which had been sawn, while others gave a finishing touch to the dung heaps and cleared away the curtains and scaffolding that had obscured their operations. At half-past 3 the Commune arrived on horseback, attended by their Staff, and placed themselves in front of the crowd in the Rue de la Paix--a mounted squadron of some 200 persons; while at a given signal a number of bands stationed at different points began to play a medley of patriotic airs, regardless of general effect. Trumpets brayed forth signals, and all strained their eyes into the dazzling sky, not without having first assured themselves of a safe retreat through some friendly doorway in case of a disaster, as the ropes were seen to tighten--"See! It moves!" "No, 'tis the effect of a passing cloud;" and, after a second's pause of intense anxiety one of the ropes snapped, knocking down in its whirl several men at the windlass. And now began a murmur and a shaking of heads, "Ah, I knew it could not succeed; they will be obliged to blow it up with gunpowder; shame on them for the attempt!" "Why cannot they leave it alone?" said one man to his neighbour, "it has cost so much." "Yes, it has," replied the other; "it has cost us millions of human lives on the plains of Germany and in the Russian snows." The attempt had failed, and people were preparing to move away, when news arrived that the Commune were not going to be thus baffled, but had sent for more ropes and apparatus, and were determined to have their way at any price. Meanwhile, the great figure looked calmly down upon his persecutors, seemingly as secure as ever, while the bands continued to play, and the horsemen galloped about the square. It was half-past 4 before the two new ropes arrived, and fully 5 o'clock before they had been hoisted to their places, not being attached to the capstan like the others, but held, one on either side the road, by 50 sailors each. Brute force had failed, and so they had determined to try the effect of a series of swings. People laughed at these renewed preparations; and could scarcely be kept close under the houses out of immediate danger. The ropes slackened and tightened again for a final effort, and a cry burst from the assembled multitude in the horror of a coming danger which might be incalculable as the great giant swayed for a few seconds and finally tottered down with an awful crash, separating into rings in the air, upon the foul bed which had been prepared for him: a shapeless mass of shattered metal and stone lying in uneven coils like some mighty serpent. The wooden sentry-boxes in the square reeled round and fell, while a cloud of filth and dust obscured the fallen monster, and men looked awe-struck at one another like naughty children who had broken something which they ought not to have dared to touch. The moment of compunction was a short one, and a howling throng rushed with one accord into the noisome cloud, fighting and quarrelling for bits of bronze and stone, and a man near me drew back, half stifled for an instant, saying, with disgust, "See what a stench the Empire has!" The statue had fallen beyond the heap, and, having smashed the pavement into splinters, lay a wreck, with one arm broken and the head severed from the body, while women kicked and spat upon it, waving their arms wildly, and shouting, "_Vive la République!_" "_Vive la Commune!_" All the bands struck on the _Marseillaise_ in different keys, a few people crowded on the remnants of the pedestal waving red flags and shrieking in their excitement, and a sergeant who endeavoured to unburden himself of an oration was speedily gagged and hustled down to make way for the great "Bergeret _lui-même_," who, in all the glory of a red scarf and tassels, waved his hat and struggled to be heard above the general hubbud of music, voices, and battering of bronze. "Citizens," he said, "the 26th of Floréal will be memorable in our history. Thus we triumph over military despotism, that bloody negation of the rights of man. The First Empire placed the collar of servitude about our necks--it began and ended in carnage--and left us a legacy of a Second Empire, which was finally to end in the disgrace of Sedan." Much more he said, but his voice was drowned in the continued hammering of metal, while our attention was distracted by peremptory orders to "move on." Such an order at such a moment was particularly exasperating, and led to many little tussles with citizens, who refused to consider this a pleasant opening to the era of liberty, an exasperation very considerably increased at the different exits from the square by an uncompromising search into the contents of pockets, and a consequent disgorging of trophies and remembrances. A fight was going on meantime in the Rue de la Paix between a company of Marines and the multitude of people gathered in the street, who struggled and fought with an energy worthy of a better cause in hopes of gaining a share in the spoils. As I emerged from the conflict into the comparative peace and coolness of the Boulevard, I was stopped by a procession--two battalions of National Guards returning much shorn of numbers, from the Bois de Boulogne, bringing with them in a furniture waggon a portion of their dead, among whom was their colonel, whose feet projected from under the flapping awning of the cart.
An order of the day of Marshal Mac-Mahon has been published in which he announces the demolition of the Vendôme Column. He says:--
"The foreigner respected it; the Commune of Paris has overthrown it. Men calling themselves Frenchmen have dared to destroy, under the eyes of the Germans, who saw the deed, this witness of the victories of our fathers against Europe in coalition. The Commune hopes thus to efface the memory of the military virtues of which the Column was the glorious symbol. Soldiers! if the recollections which the Column commemorated are no longer graven upon brass, they will remain in our hearts. Inspired by them, we know how to give France another proof of bravery, devotion, and patriotism."
MAY 20th.
M. ROCHEFORT.
Never have I witnessed a scene of greater excitement than the entry of Rochefort into Versailles as a prisoner to-day. He was brought in by the St. Germain road, and was seated in a family omnibus drawn by two horses. First came a squadron of gendarmes, then the omnibus, surrounded by Chasseurs D'Afrique, and lastly a squadron of the same corps. In the vehicle with Rochefort were his secretary, Mouriot, and four police agents dressed in plain clothes. Outside the omnibus were an officer of the gendarmerie in uniform and two or three _sergents-de-ville_ not in uniform. Rochefort's moustache had disappeared. He had himself shaved closely before setting out from Paris in order to disguise himself, but there was no mistaking him. It was half-past 1 o'clock in the afternoon when the _cortège_, arriving at the end of the Boulevard du Roi, entered the Rue des Réservoirs. Every one ran into the street, and shouts of execration were raised on all sides. It was no mere demonstration of a mob. The citizens of all classes joined in it. One man ventured to cry "Vive Rochefort!" He was kicked by several persons who happened to be near him, and was saved from further violence only by arrest at the hands of the _sergents-de-ville_. Along the rue des Réservoirs, the Rue de la Pompe, the Place Hoche, the Rue de Hoche, and the Avenue St. Cloud Rochefort was greeted with incessant shouts of "_À bas l'assassin; à pied le brigand; à mort_!" The people wanted to have him out of the omnibus, and it was with difficulty the cavalry prevented them from dragging him out and inflicting summary execution. The cavalcade was obliged to go at a slow pace, but finally he was safely lodged in gaol. I believe that but for the precautions taken by the Government he would have been killed before he had got near it. The demand to have an example made of him, and the dissatisfaction at seeing him brought to prison in a carriage, were loud and general.
There was a tremendous fire against the bastions this morning at 5 o'clock, and a strong fire has been maintained all day.
The fire of the Insurgents is much weaker than it was yesterday and the day before, except at Vaugirard, and from there to Montrouge, where mitrailleuses and musketry were brought into requisition.
Up to 5 o'clock this afternoon Auteuil still shelled.
From 3 o'clock I have observed a very large number of the Versailles troops under arms at a short distance from the Point du Jour, and a considerable body of the Insurgents watching them from near the Vaugirard Gate.
At 5 o'clock the white flag was displayed at the Porte d'Auteuil.
Orders have been given for the troops to march onward and occupy it.
M. Thiers has issued a circular, dated noon to-day, in which he says:--
"Several Prefects having demanded that news should be published, the following answer has been sent to them:--Those persons who are uneasy are greatly mistaken. Our troops are working at the approaches, and at the moment of writing the breaching batteries continue their fire upon the walls. Never have we been so near the end. The members of the Commune are busy making their escape."
The breaching batteries are still keeping up a very heavy fire against the _enceinte_.
M. Thiers has sent a despatch to the Prefects announcing that the gate of St. Cloud was forced down by the fire of the Versailles guns, and General Douai then rushed with his men into the interior. The troops under Generals Ladmirault and Glinchamps were at once set in motion to follow them.
The Versailles troops entered Paris at 4 o'clock this afternoon at two different points--namely, by the St. Cloud Gate at Point du Jour, and by the gate of Montrouge.
The ramparts were abandonned by the Insurgents.
* * * * *
THE CAPTURE OF PARIS.
MAY 21st.--AND 22d.
The great event of yesterday came upon every one by surprise. It had been expected, but not for yesterday.
Even the Marshal Commanding-in-Chief looked onward to at least six more days of sapping and mounting of batteries and actual breaching before his army would be able to make the final movement.
A certain number of the troops were inside the _enceinte_ before any one but themselves knew of it, and Auteuil and the Point du Jour were shelled for nearly two hours after they had fallen into possession of the forces of Versailles.
One man, M. Clément, an officer of Engineers, played a prominent part in this historical affair. Soon after midday, proceeding cautiously in advance of a party of his men, who were lying in concealment between the nearest parallel and the Porte de St. Cloud, he crept up to the bastion and found it and the ramparts adjoining without a single sentinel. Keeping near the ground, he waved a white handkerchief; it was seen by the small party of Engineers who were lying outside the last parallel, and also by Lieutenant Trèves, of the French Navy. At first the signal was not understood; but M. Clément continued to wave the handkerchief violently, and beckon to those who saw him to come on immediately. It was with difficulty 100 men could be collected in the trenches, but about that number advanced and occupied the deserted position. In the meantime the word was passed from post to post in their rear, and a batallion was soon on its way after them. By half-past 3 o'clock dispositions had been effected for occupying both Auteuil and the Point du Jour with a sufficient force, and proceeding to the other gates both right and left. The gates and drawbridge of Auteuil had been demolished several days previously, but the Insurgents had substituted an enormous barricade, which shut off the iron bridge uniting the Railway Station with the Viaduct.
The Division of General Vergeé marched direct upon Auteuil. Scarcely had the first column arrived there, when volleys of musketry were opened by the Insurgents concealed in houses. A few of the troops were put _hors de combat_ by this fire, but the artillery of the Division turned their pieces on the ramparts against the enemy, Mitrailleuses were also brought into requisition by the troops, and within an hour the Insurgents had fled to a distance.
The Division of General Douai entered by the gate of St. Cloud, which is at the Point du Jour, and occupied the salient between the ramparts and the viaduct. Here there was a second bastion of considerable solidity. The soldiers entered the half-ruined barracks and casemates, and made prisoners of a number of Insurgents whom they found concealed there.
Immediate preparations were then made for the advance right and left, but as the enemy was still keeping up a fire from 7-pounders and Mitrailleuses, along the bastions between Vaugirard and Montrouge, a regular assault of these positions by the division under General Cissey was determined upon. I have already announced that it has been successful.
The Division began to march in by the Gates of Vaugirard and Montrouge. At 2 o'clock this morning La Muette was occupied without serious resistance.
A Division subsequently advanced to Passy to join that which had taken La Muette.
Such was the suddenness with which the occupation of the Point du Jour had been effected that, as I have stated, the firing from the military batteries continued for a considerable time after the first of the troops were in it. It was not till 4 o'clock that the order to cease firing in that direction left the Head-Quarters. In the meantime, hundreds of people stood on the Avenue and Terrace of Meudon watching the cannonade, and believing that all the posts of the Insurgents were still occupied by the enemy. Even the officers and men in the batteries did not know why the order to cease firing had been sent round.
I have just returned, after having followed in the rear of General Vinoy's last column, going to take up positions in the neighbourhood of the Trocadéro. I have wandered all over the Point du Jour, visited Auteuil, and have walked along by the bastions between the Gate of St. Cloud at the Point du Jour and the Gate of Auteuil. Having watched the other side of the Sèvres Bridge, I was surprised on passing along the Sèvres road to observe that, very little damage had been done to the houses at the end of it near the _enceinte_. One or two bore the marks of shells, but the fact is that nearly all had escaped, and what I saw at the _enceinte_ and within it, shows that the artillery practice of the Versailles side had been exceedingly good throughout the bombardment. The people on the Sèvres road had kept their shops open amid all the terrible firing. Only some two or three houses had been closed. They stood at a dangerous angle to the batteries at Meudon. On one of them was chalked "_fermée pour cause du bombardement._" Between the last of the houses and the ramparts, and at a distance of not more than 100 yards from the latter, were the newly-cut trenches which the troops had constructed. Good gabions protected them in front, and there was a plentiful supply of fascines lying all about. The doors of the Porte were no longer to be seen, except in little bits on the roadway. The drawbridge had succumbed bodily, and its place was supplied with some planks. The posthouse was in ruins, and the stone walls on either side between the gates and the parapet of the fortifications had been crumbled into rubbish; the glacis from the Point du Jour to Auteuil had been ploughed up in such a manner that not a yard of it was to be seen without a shell hole. To say that the parapet had been riddled would not be correct. It is smashed here and there, and at intervals everywhere, but in no place between the two Gates I am referring to is the earthwork inside the parapet laid bare, nor has a breach, properly so called, been anywhere made. The doors and gate walls of both gates are smashed through, but all along, despite serious disfigurement, the parapet is strong still.