_1870. SEPTEMBER. SIEGE OF PARIS_
An Alsacienne--Action at Chatillon--The dangerous classes--“_Mourir
pour la patrie_”--Contrasted conditions--Batteries open--Theatres
and Louvre--Food and prices--More contrasts--Action at Villejuif--
Again the Alsacienne--Historical sieges.
Among the “ambulances” visited by me while being prepared for their
intended purpose was one in the near vicinity of the Luxembourg Palace.
A particular club was in process of transition accordingly; its
members, socially distinguished in Parisian society, had arranged among
themselves to undertake the entire management and work, professional
and otherwise, in connection therewith, the female members of their
respective families devoting themselves to the performance of such
functions as pertained more properly to them. In a spacious apartment
of that club-ambulance, a number of ladies were variously occupied in
arranging articles of bedding, night-dresses, bandages, etc. Among them
was one, an Alsacienne, young, fair, and so gentle in manner, that
as she accompanied me through the several apartments about to become
wards, I took leave to ask whether she had formed any idea as to the
nature of the duties that might fall upon her in relation to wounded
men, and, if so, whether she felt that she was physically capable of
them. “Of course,” so she said in reply, “she could not tell what those
duties might be, or if she would be able to fulfil them; but in such
circumstances as now threatened, it was the duty of every one, man and
woman alike, to do their best, and she hoped to do hers.”
In the early hours of the 19th, the French forces, some 60,000 strong,
occupying the heights of Meudon and Chatillon, were attacked, and
driven away by the Germans. It subsequently transpired that although
considerable numbers of the regular soldiers of the line stood
their ground as became them, others, including some Zouaves, fled
panic-stricken; their example was quickly followed by the Mobiles,
and so, as day advanced, great numbers of those classes were seen
in flight along the great thoroughfares of the city, a few of them
carrying their arms, but the great majority without weapons of any
kind, shouting as they fled, “_Nous sommes trahi!_” themselves
saluted by the populace with cries of “_Lâches_.”[281] The sight was
a melancholy one, its tendency to impair whatever belief existed in
regard to the successful issue of the defence now entered upon. Still
later, ambulance carriages passed along the streets, bearing their
loads of men wounded in this the first serious engagement in the near
vicinity of the capital, the siege of which begins as a result of that
action. As subsequently expressed by newspaper correspondents, there is
little doubt that had the Prussians followed up the fugitives on this
occasion they might with them have entered Paris.
In the evening of that day the sound of shots fired in the streets was
heard; report spread that two thousand of “the dangerous classes” were
abroad, a report so far confirmed that they were being marched under
escort to the gates, and so expelled, to take their chances between the
lines of besieged and besiegers. It was deemed unsafe for foreigners to
appear, lest, being taken for Prussians, they might vicariously suffer
for the success of the morning. Cafés and such places were ordered to
close early; a declaration published that persons convicted of pillage
should be held liable to death penalty. The discovery was made that
telegraphic communication with the outer world was cut off. Under all
these circumstances there existed an impression that the risks to life
had been lessened to those within the city by the repulse sustained by
our “defenders” in the morning.
On September 21 was celebrated in Paris the outbreak in 1792 of the
Republic, and massacre of French nobles. Placards declared that the
successors of men of that day will prove themselves worthy of their
ancestors; other _affiches_ expressed determination to resist to the
death, to accept no armistice, to yield neither a stone of a fortress
nor an inch of territory. In the Place de la Concorde a battalion of
the Garde Nationale presented arms to the statue of Strasbourg, sang
in chorus the Marseillaise, decorated the emblem itself with floral
wreaths; having done so, they marched away! Soon there came a body of
“patriots”; their task to drape the figures of Marseilles and Lyons in
red, in token of the Republic declared at both those places. Along the
Rue Rivoli came a battalion of newly-enrolled citizen soldiers, their
destination said to be the front. At the head of the column marched
in gorgeous and picturesque costume a cantinière. The men’s rifles
were decorated with evergreens; accompanying them were their wives and
children, all in tears; the brave men loudly singing, “_Mourir pour la
patrie_.” As they reached the Rue Royale an affecting and sad parting
was witnessed; the column resumed its march, but now in silence; but,
as subsequently transpired, not to come in conflict with the enemy.
A strange contrast between conditions was now observable. Considerable
numbers of the fugitives from Chatillon were marched along some
thoroughfares, their coats turned outside in, their hands tied behind
them, the word “_Lâche_” placarded on their backs. Masses of men,
including old and young, the strong, decrepid and malformed, gathered
in front of the Hôtel de Ville, and along the boulevards extending
thence to the Place de la Bastille. After a time the crowds dispersed,
but the reason alike of their gathering and of their dispersion did
not then transpire.[282] Meanwhile, the aspect of the boulevards was
bright and gay with women fashionably dressed, and men in uniform; the
cafés crowded, their inmates laughing and joyous. At the kiosks people
eagerly purchased papers of the day, and laughed at the caricatures
of Germans, executed in even worse style, if that were possible,
than anything previously seen. In the Champs Elysées goat carriages
and merry-go-rounds, Mobiles playing games of sorts, nursery maids
neglecting their charges, men squabbling, songs, patriotic and ribald,
half-drunken men everywhere.
Events developed rapidly. The sound of heavy guns at different points
around the outskirts told its own tale. The heaviest firing came from
the direction of Meudon. Crowds of people gathered at the Trocadero,
and there watched for explosions of Prussian shells as they burst
in mid air or crashed through the leafy woods adjoining the Seine,
though at some distance from the city. A balloon dispatched from
within glided westward at an elevation beyond the reach of Prussian
fire; the balloon, as we subsequently learned, being guided by M.
Nadar, who, while passing over their camp, dropped showers of his own
advertisements among them.
Now the theatres were in some instances turned to another purpose than
that of mere amusement; they were transformed into ambulances, the male
portion of the usual performers taking their places in the fighting
ranks, the ladies adopting the brassard as nurses. Another significant
incident was the barricading of doors and windows of the Louvre Museum,
a number of water reservoirs being prepared near it, in case of fire,
and with evident regard to possible bombardment.
The inhabitants of villages within the line of investment were
admitted inside the ramparts; there they became established as so many
communities, each under its own administration. Conditions, present
and prospective, pointed to the necessity of systematising the issue
of food stores; meat was unobtainable at butchers’ establishments and
restaurants. A register was established on which was inscribed the
names and residence of persons authorized to remain within the walls,
these numbering two millions, exclusive of _bouches inutiles_ already
expelled.
From academies and medical schools students enrolled themselves as
artillerymen and ambulanciers. So popular was the last-named corps
that many fictitious “members” were soon arrested for bearing its
brassard. In some instances it was said of citizen “soldiers” that they
showed small desire to take post in advanced positions; in a few, that
Gardes Nationaux and Mobiles objected to proceed beyond the barriers.
While on the one hand certain enthusiasts endeavoured to set on foot a
League of Peace, others proposed schemes of mutual assurance against
casualties incidental to a state of siege. Still went on the work of
destroying emblems and changing the names of streets associated with
that of Napoleon. A proposal was made to strip from the column in the
Place Vendome the historical scenes on its metal casing, and utilise
the bronze for purposes of defence. Wives of workmen on barricades
and other defences might be seen carrying the implements of their
husbands, while the latter lounged about unencumbered, and in all
respects unlike earnest _ouvriers_. In the long hours of inactivity
that intervened between short periods of indifferent work, tongues
and idle hands became in their respective ways so demonstrative that,
as a counterpoise, a series of cheap performances “for the benefit of
the masses” was organized. In the pages of _Le Combat_ was a proposal
that a subscription list should be opened, with a view to present a
_fusil d’honneur_ to the man who should shoot the King of Prussia, the
subscriptions to be limited to five sous per person. Prussian helmets
were offered for sale in such numbers that people asked each other how
far off was their place of manufacture.
Ten days elapsed since the Prussians gained their position on the
heights of Chatillon. Meanwhile it would seem that beyond slight
combats nothing of importance occurred between besieged and besiegers.
Rumour ran that “the people”--within Paris--demanded to be led against
the enemy by whom their city was surrounded, while the daily journals
advocated such a demonstration, if for no other object than to quiet
such of the disaffected as declaimed against the past inaction. On
September 30 a combined force of the line, artillery, cavalry,
National Guards and Mobiles, said to number in all 10,000 men, attacked
the Prussians at Villejuif, where at first they were successful.
At another point, however,--namely, Choisy-le-Roi,--the result of
the incautious rush made by them was unfortunate to themselves;
they sustained heavy loss in killed and wounded,--General Guilhém
being among the former,--and were constrained to withdraw behind the
adjoining forts.
During the interval between those actions I visited several ambulances,
containing considerable numbers of wounded, and now much added to by
those from the sortie just mentioned. Among those visited was the one
near the Luxembourg Palace already noticed. But the Alsacienne was
no longer there. On the fatal day of Chatillon, among the wounded
carried thither from the field was an officer whose injury was of the
gravest nature. To him was assigned an apartment; he was placed under
sole charge of the young nurse, whose first patient he thus became.
Night closed in; the surgeons attended to his injuries; then patient
and “nurse” were left together. With return of daylight came the
morning visit. On the bed lay stiff and cold what had been the wounded
man; kneeling beside the bed, her face buried in the sheets, herself
in a state of catalepsy, was the nurse, her condition so sad and
extreme that she was straightway taken to her friends, with whom, as
subsequently transpired, she long remained an invalid.
All of us recognised the fact that the attendant conditions of a siege
were upon us, that with regard to their future course everything was
uncertain. Under such circumstances we read with interest a resumé
of the history of past sieges of Paris, published apparently for our
encouragement in one of the morning journals.[283] It appears that
Paris has undergone seven different sieges; namely, in A.D. 856-7, by
the Normans, for thirteen months, at which date its population numbered
60,000 persons; on that occasion, though the besiegers committed great
destruction in its immediate environs, they were ultimately obliged to
withdraw. In 970, the Emperor Otho II., with 60,000 troops, appeared
before its walls; but he was routed by King Lothaire, and pursued as
far as Soissons. In 1359 Charles of Navarre blockaded the city, and
tried to reduce it by famine; the population suffered intensely, but in
the end, Charles, learning of the approach of relieving armies, raised
the siege, and with his forces withdrew. In November of the same year,
Edward III. of England invaded France with 100,000 men, and marched
on Paris the following spring. At that time Paris contained 200,000
inhabitants. During the siege, which lasted three months, they suffered
the horrors of famine, but the troops of Edward, having devastated all
the surrounding country, became themselves short of provisions, and
were consequently compelled to withdraw. A century later, the English,
under Edward IV., who became possessed of the city, were attacked by
Charles VII., whom they had before driven to Bourges, and Joan of
Arc was wounded at the head of a storming party. Finally the French
were repulsed. For seven years Paris was “between the hammer and the
anvil,” till at last the citizens revolted against the exactions of
the English, and let the French into the place. In 1589, at which time
Henry IV. laid claim to the throne of France, the king’s army attacked
the Faubourg St. Germain; after which the siege was raised for a few
months, to be renewed in 1590. On that occasion the siege lasted
eighty-five days; namely, from May 30 to August 23. The populace were
reduced to such straits that animals of all kinds, clean and unclean,
were slaughtered; soldiers chased children, and put them to death as
food; bones were dug up and prepared as _patés_; an instance related
of a woman who devoured some of the flesh of her own offspring, and
shortly afterwards died mad--and no wonder. At the end of that time the
approach of the Duke of Parma forced Henry to raise the siege. In 1814
and in 1815 the city capitulated without a battle. The seventh siege is
now in progress. It is for us to fulfil our destiny to the best of our
ability.