_1870. NOVEMBER. SIEGE OF PARIS_
Le Jour des Morts--Requiem--Political excitement--Conditions
within the city--Progress of affairs--Porte St. Denis--Intended
sortie--Battle of Champigny--Night on the field.
Le Jour des Morts was devoted to visiting the cemetery of Père la
Chaise. That vast city of the silent was more than usually crowded with
mourners and other visitors. Recently covered graves were numerous;
around many such stood sorrowing relatives and friends, some of whom
placed thereon wreaths or other tokens of affection; around others
stood similar groups, some of whom redecorated tombs of those longer
numbered among the dead. The assembled crowds were grave and demure,
as befitted the occasion. At intervals the sound of heavy guns came
as if floating on the air. On reaching the higher ground within the
cemetery, the sharp _ping_ of German rifle shots came sharply and
often, as the missiles passed overhead or fell among us; for it seemed
as if they were directed upon the mourners by the more advanced posts
of the besiegers out of a spirit of wantonness--not unlike, it must
be confessed, that already shown by French sentries _and others_ at
Boulogne. But “it was not war” in either instance.
A requiem mass in the Madeleine for victims of the war up to that date
was a most impressive service. That beautiful church, draped in black
for the occasion, was filled to crowding by men and women, belonging to
all social grades, those of the higher classes wearing deep mourning,
all having lost members of their families on the field of battle, or
by disease which had already assumed the character of pestilence; in
near proximity to the altar sat some few mutilated men, who had so far
escaped with their lives. While the service was in progress, the rich
music of the recently erected organ, then used for the first time, was
broken in upon from time to time by the sound of heavy artillery from
the outer forts. During the address delivered by the Abbé Deguerry
the same accompaniment continued. In less than four months thereafter
the venerable and respected Abbé was numbered among the victims of the
Commune.[298]
Political excitement was rampant within the city; serious outbreak
by the inhabitants of Belleville and Vilette was dreaded; but on
the result being declared of elections rendered necessary by recent
events at the Hôtel de Ville, the disturbing elements accepted for a
time the defeat thereby given to their cause, and gradually became
less demonstrative in behaviour. But not for long. The publication
of orders for reorganization of the National Guard was immediately
followed by renewed disturbances in those localities, from neither
of which did men volunteer for the ranks in obedience to the call do
so; some battalions, already including members from those quarters,
refused to take their turn of duty on the ramparts, declaring their
intention to plunder the city if such orders were persisted in. The
difficulties of the existing Government had become very great. Public
loans for purposes of the defence were called for and subscribed.
Negotiations were carried on for an armistice, whether with or without
_ravitaillement_. These proved unsuccessful;[299] but, as events were
subsequently to show, acceptance of the terms of Bismarck, hard as they
were, would have saved much suffering and loss of human life.
Winter weather rapidly advanced; strong winds, rain, and sleet gave way
to snow and bitter frost. Clothing had to be supplemented in various
ways; skins of animals slaughtered were utilised, and articles of
various kinds “converted” in a manner heretofore unknown. Fuel had
become scarce. The public markets were bare of all things eatable;
horses and other draught animals belonging to private individuals
were requisitioned; licences issued by the municipality to official
classes and others permitted to retain and draw rations for particular
specified numbers; an embargo was placed upon the small fish already
mentioned as furnishing sport for anglers on the Seine. All persons
were placed on the universal ration scale,[300] but “the poor” had the
additional advantage of gratuitous meals provided at certain places by
mairies. The more respectable classes refused to so declare themselves;
the consequence was that little, if any, advantage in the way of free
meals reached them, whereas the disturbing elements of Belleville and
Vilette reaped the full advantages of the scheme, while the classes
alluded to became gradually reduced to direst poverty and privation.
The wounded increased rapidly in numbers; disease in ordinary forms
and as epidemics acquired alarming prevalence, various hotels and other
large buildings being taken up as additional hospitals. Some schools
and colleges still remained open; the Théâtre Française and a few
similar establishments presented the ordinary scenes of performances in
one portion of the buildings; while in others lay wounded men, sick,
dying, and dead.
From outside came evidences that our besiegers were actively at work.
Intervals between rounds of fire from Prussian guns became shorter as
time wore on. From French outposts came reports that siege batteries
were being erected, and armed with Krupp guns of large calibre, with
the evident object of bombarding the city. Additional measures were
taken to interfere with communication, such as it was, between Paris
and the provinces, even to the extent of keeping a more than usual
sharp look-out upon messenger pigeons, many of these birds having
failed to arrive. Two, if not more, of our balloons, while floating
across positions occupied by our enemies, were brought to earth by
their bullets, or otherwise fallen into their hands, their occupants
threatened with trial by Court-Martial on charges of unauthorizedly
attempting to traverse the circle of investment.
In the year 1814, and again in 1815, the allied army entered Paris
by the Porte St. Denis. The impression arose that an entrance by our
besiegers was possibly intended on the present occasion to take place
from the same direction; the defences on that side were accordingly
strengthened to so great an extent that those of us able to do so
took an opportunity of visiting them. One entire cold foggy day was
so spent by me, the Red Cross card procuring for me ready admittance,
and “circulation” everywhere. Rumour said that on some of the advanced
posts in this direction, men of the opposing forces were wont, during
the long weary hours of night, to meet in friendly intercourse and
partake of such small hospitality as they could, leaving for the morrow
their respective transition from “friends” to “enemies.” Records of
the Peninsular War relate similar stories in reference thereto.
As the end of November drew near, rumour spread that the outer gates
of the city had been closed; that a sortie on a greater scale than
any of those preceding was about to take place; that the investing
circle was to be broken, and the victorious army from Paris to march
triumphantly into the provinces. Along the thoroughfares of the city
leading eastward marched battery after battery of artillery and
battalion after battalion of infantry; the crowds cheered, general
excitement prevailed; high-sounding promises were expressed that our
isolation from the outside world was about to cease. Towards evening
orders reached those concerned that early on the morrow the attack was
to be delivered; at the same time the publication of a subsequently
much jeered at “Proclamation” by a general officer became the subject
of comment. At the early hour of one o’clock the following morning
a heavy cannonade was opened upon the positions held by the enemy
from the whole line of forts on the west and south of the city, and
continued during the succeeding hours, so heavy indeed that according
to calculation some two hundred missiles per minute were discharged
upon them, while a no less furious bombardment was opened upon our
outposts, the continuous bursting of shells in mid air of a grey foggy
morning having a most weird effect. Throughout those weary hours
equipages of all kinds to be used in the removal of wounded were being
collected and arranged by the Intendance; while on the river, rows of
_bateaux mouches_, ready prepared for similar work, were moored to
the embankment. At length morning broke, and such a morning! bitterly
cold, a dense fog hanging over us; we, several hours without shelter or
refreshment, our innate powers of maintaining animal warmth materially
reduced by privation of food. Hour after hour passed, and we were still
in our assigned positions; some few conveyances and boats took their
departure for the front, but that was all. Noon passed; afternoon
advanced. Rumour spread that the intended attack on the position at
Champigny had miscarried; that during the previous night the Marne
had come down in flood, available pontoons proved insufficient in
the emergency, the passage of the forces across the stream had to be
postponed. We knew that on the morrow the attempt would be renewed, but
all perceived that meantime preparations against that attack would be
made by those upon whom it was to be directed.
As daylight broke on November 30 heavy cannonading as on the previous
day began. Now the long line of conveyances was set in motion eastward,
along the road between Charenton and the Seine. As we neared Joinville
we met an escort party conveying to the city a considerable number
of German soldiers who had fallen into their hands. At the same time
we learned, what subsequent information confirmed, that the first
onslaught by our besieged troops was so far successful, the village
of Champigny being attacked by them; the mitrailleuse sweeping its
streets, the Wurtembergers and Saxons by whom it was occupied were
driven from it with extremely heavy loss to their numbers. During the
past night the bridge across the Marne that had suffered from the mania
of destruction already mentioned was temporarily repaired, a bridge
of boats completed, so that the troops, together with thirty-three
batteries of artillery, had crossed in the darkness and begun their
attack at an unexpectedly early hour. There was no great difficulty
connected with the transit of Red Cross conveyances. As we advanced
towards Champigny, appearances betokened continued success on the part
of the French; and although wounded men were being carried to the
rear in great numbers, the general impression was that the endeavours
of our citizen forces against their enemies were on this occasion
attended by success. Thus matters continued during the next two
hours; our establishments moving little by little onwards, following
as we then considered the victorious progress of those with whom our
sympathies naturally were. The fight now raged with great fury, its
scene covering a vast extent of ground, the ridges that stretch from
Brie to Champigny, and beyond the latter place still further to our
right, presenting an almost uninterrupted line of batteries from which
the deadly missiles fell thickly upon the troops engaged, and upon
the ground occupied by us, while from the forts in rear of us similar
showers of projectiles directed against those positions whizzed over
our heads. Now there came a pause; brancardiers carrying wounded,
and conveyances of sorts similarly laden, came from the front, and
continued their journey rearward. There is confusion. The range of some
of the enemy’s guns has changed; so has the line of fire. Shells fall
more and more near to us; Spahis gallop in an irregular way among us.
There is confusion among the ambulance conveyances; brancardiers are
unable to discover those to which they respectively belong. For the
time being means are unavailable for the removal from the field of men
who had fallen wounded. After a short time there was a rally. Again
it was evident that the French were attacking the German positions;
but ere night closed in they were everywhere repulsed. It was during
the state of confusion just described that the commander of the 4th
Zouaves, having received what proved to be his death-wound, was dropped
and so left by the men who had brought him so far from the front. A
shell had burst in their close vicinity. They abandoned the unfortunate
officer, helpless as he was, and themselves disappeared in the general
confusion. Some few of us expressed indignation in no doubtful terms.
We rallied to the aid of the dying man, to whom we gave such aid as
we were able to render.[301] A gentleman connected with one of the
Embassies who was present succeeded in finding his brougham; in it was
placed our patient, and so we started back to Paris for further help.
Having recrossed the Marne, we were driven by the road traversing the
Parc de Vincennes, and so entered the city by the Place du Trone.
Denser and more dense became the crowd as we neared the city; people
in uniform and in bourgeois dress, waggons, and troops in disorder,
all served to impede our progress. When near enough to the bulwarks
to observe what was taking place upon the slopes connected with them,
a scene of the most astounding character presented itself. Crowds of
people, male and female, were there, indulging in games as if the
occasion were a holiday; and yet within a very short distance from them
their brothers and other relations were engaged in deadly combat, torn
and mangled, in many instances, into shapeless masses of humanity.
Having entered the city, we were driven quickly to the American
ambulance, and there within a few short hours the sufferings of the
poor _Chéf de Battalion_ had ceased. He entered his rest.
Before we could regain the field of battle, darkness had set in. Firing
had much diminished, though still proceeding heavily, the flames from
guns and burning buildings around us lighting up from time to time
portions of the plain on which the events of the day had taken place.
A considerable number of Red Cross men had returned in the hope of
succouring such of the wounded as were left on the ground. Bitterly
cold was the night, as hour after hour, till well past midnight, all of
us, with lamp in hand, and in small separate bodies pursued our search,
our own frames benumbed, unsupported by sufficient food, and without
the possibility of obtaining such comfort as hot coffee or tea could
afford. While so engaged, to our surprise, there flashed over us from
the Faisanderie a beam of bright white light. For a moment it illumined
the Prussian position upon the heights of Villiers, then suddenly
ceased. A shell flew through the air. There was a loud explosion,
preceded by a blaze of flame. We were made aware that for the first
time the electric light was made use of in this way. At last, wearied,
tired, exhausted by cold, we were able in the early hours of morning to
reach our respective hotels.