_1871. JANUARY. SIEGE. BOMBARDMENT. CAPITULATION OF PARIS_
Bombardment begun--Its progress and effects--“The terrible battery
of Meudon”--Sundry particulars--Conditions of the besieged--A
telegram--Increasing privations--Disaffection and corruption--
Routine of everyday life--Our food supplies--Photographic messages--
Personal circumstances--Night march--A Proclamation--Sortie on
Montretout and Bugeval--Defeat--The killed and wounded--Armistice
declared--_Vive la Commune!_--General events--At our worst--
Ambulances--Ward scenes and statistics--Unexpected recognition.
Incessant firing between the enemy’s positions and outlying forts
during the last night of 1870 and first day of 1871, increasing in
violence as the day advanced; additional batteries unmasked on the
German side, thus giving visible signs of what was to come. At 3 a.m.
on the 5th, the first shell of actual bombardment fell within the city;
then followed similar missiles in quick succession, chiefly falling
and exploding near the Panthéon, Luxembourg, and market of Montrouge.
In the course of that day a Government Proclamation was issued, the
terms of which as they are transcribed seem almost childish in their
simplicity: “The bombardment of Paris has commenced. The enemy, not
content with firing upon our forts, hurls his projectiles upon our
houses; threatens our hearths and our families. His violence will
redouble the resolution of the city, which will fight and conquer.
The defenders of the forts, exposed to incessant firing, lose nought
of their calmness, and know well how to inflict terrible reprisals
upon the assailants. The population of Paris valiantly accept this
new token. The enemy hopes to intimidate it; he will only render its
bound the more vigorous. It will show itself worthy of the Army of
the Loire, which has caused the enemy to retire; of the Army of the
North, which is marching to our relief.[307] _Vive la France!_ _Vive la
République!_”
Bombardment increased in violence and rapidity during the nights and
days immediately following, the shells falling nearer and nearer to
the centre of the city. With reports of casualties among men, women,
and children, came accounts of buildings struck and penetrated by
shells, including private dwellings, hospitals, ambulances, churches,
and convents, all situated on the left side of the Seine. An exodus of
people from the places struck was a natural result. They flocked to
parts of the city situated on the right side of the river, and there,
in the face of great difficulties, were provided with accommodation;
food being obtained for them with even greater difficulty than
accommodation. Sick and wounded had similarly to be provided for;
so had the inmates of maternity establishments. Hotels, business
establishments, churches, and public buildings of all sorts were
rapidly transformed for the reception of the several classes alluded
to; private houses belonging to persons who had quitted the beleaguered
city were “requisitioned” for the same purpose, while in many instances
private families gave shelter and aid to refugees from the bombarded
quarters.
Then opened upon the city what speedily became known among us as
“the terrible battery of Meudon,” on account of the great violence
of bombardment by it; the missiles therefrom committed greater havoc
than anything previously experienced, and fell nearer and nearer to
the centre of Paris as “practice” went on. Day and night continuously,
with varying intensity, but always greatest during the night, did the
bombardment continue. Answering fire from the forts around was scarcely
less actively directed upon the German positions, the incessant rolling
sound of heavy guns varied by that of exploding shells, the tremor of
houses so caused rendered the hours of darkness somewhat “hideous.”
So passed twelve days and nights. On the 17th of January there was
a slackening of fire from the forts. Rumour in different shapes
spread in regard to the cause: that to which most ready belief was
given being that ammunition had begun to fail; the meaning of such a
report significant. At this time certain published records appeared
in which statistics of casualties purported to be given; those during
the first eight days of bombardment 51 killed and 138 wounded, the
damage to buildings unexpectedly small. Some of us set to work to
calculate arithmetically our individual chances of being struck, and
so made them out to be relatively little. Those chances would no
doubt have been materially increased had the intentions assigned to
the German artillery been carried out of discharging incendiary bombs
upon Paris--an intention frustrated by order of the Emperor--for that
dignity had recently been assumed by him.[308] Fortunately for us not
more than three out of every five _obuses_ discharged upon us exploded;
whether as a result of defects in themselves or other cause did not
matter to us upon whom they were directed.
It was now that the terms of a telegram said to have been sent by
“King William to Queen Augusta” was everywhere exhibited in the great
thoroughfares. That message intimated that “the bombardment of Paris
proceeds satisfactorily, thank God.” The comments passed with reference
to it were at the time distinctly expressive, and no wonder. But now,
long years after the event, the question arises--Was such a telegram
ever sent?
Meanwhile the conditions of the besieged, as already noticed, had
increased in severity. The season of mid-winter was of unusual
inclemency; sickness and mortality by disease had acquired alarming
rates, irrespective of casualties in battle; fuel was unobtainable,
the want of it a cause of increased suffering and illness. The
best energies of arrondissements, public institutions, and private
individuals were directed to the mitigation of these and other evils
incidental to a people besieged and under bombardment; but, alas! while
the cause remained, the ordinary effects could only be averted in a
very small degree, if in any.
It was under these circumstances that a renewed spirit of disaffection
towards the existing Government broke out violently among the classes
who were the chief recipients of help in various ways specially granted
to them by that Government, even to the relative neglect of those who,
equally needy, were less clamorous. There arose dissensions among the
sectional Representatives; distrust of, and ill-feeling towards, the
foreign residents on imaginary grounds that the latter carried on a
system of communication with the besiegers. Signs of disaffection
and corruption were manifest among the citizen soldiers, those signs
giving peculiar significance to the extravagant terms in which official
orders made mention of the services performed by them; for the facts
were popularly known that an attempted sortie on the 10th miscarried
because information regarding it had reached the enemy; that a second,
planned for the 14th, had to be abandoned on account of some of those
citizen “soldiers” having failed to be in their assigned positions at
the appointed time. So far as indications pointed, revolution and civil
war were imminent, while heavy bombardment by the enemy was still in
progress.
Meanwhile the ordinary routine of everyday life went on much as if
besiegers outside and various dangerous elements within our gates were
non-existent, with the difference that to more common subjects of
talk was added _obuses_, including probable size, distance at which
from the speaker, and places of their explosion, damage to property
and life caused thereby, and so on. As time went on the bombardment
became, to some degree, a substitute for the weather as subject of
first remark between acquaintances when meeting each other for the
day; for example: “The bombardment is rather lively to-day,” or “it is
rather slow.” People met at dinner, if that term can be applied to the
fare procurable. Walking became a necessity, for the reason that the
horses of omnibuses and other public conveyances had been requisitioned
for purposes of food; hence, those of us who had duties to perform,
experienced increasing difficulties in carrying them out. But these
conditions were not altogether unrelieved by an incident having in it
much of the ludicrous. An order was published declaring that widows of
“soldiers” of the Mobile and National Guards should thenceforward be
deemed entitled to pension, the immediate result being a great outcrop
of marriage ceremonies among the classes concerned.
All ordinary supplies of _viande_ had now become expended, the small
reserve store being retained for the sick and wounded. Animals
of all kinds, excluding the carnivora,[309] were requisitioned,
their carcases exposed for sale in boucheries, but only issued to
persons provided with the required _billet de rationnement_ from the
mairie of his arrondissement. Supplies of grain were in like manner
“requisitioned” and issued under authority; armed sentries guarded
retail establishments, their services on various occasions required
against rioters, as already alluded to, from Belleville and Vilette. In
the southern parts of the city long queues of women were to be seen,
each individual waiting her turn to receive her “ration”; not a few of
the elderly and weak among them falling where they had stood, exhausted
as their physical powers were from cold and insufficient food. In some
localities, more especially near the Luxembourg, casualties among them
occurred by the explosion of Prussian shells. The daily “ration” for
which they scrambled consisted latterly of about ten ounces of bread,
one ounce of horseflesh, and a quarter litre of _vin ordinare_. The
bread contained 1/8 flour, 4/8 _fecula_ of potatoes, rice, peas and
lentils, 1/8 of ground straw, the remaining fraction made up of water
and “sundry” materials. Women of all social classes aided the _real_
poor in every possible way, and in other respects maintained the
reputation of their sex in times of danger and difficulty.
An improved and ingenious method by which news from the outer world
could be brought within access to the ordinary people within the
city was now introduced, through the instrumentality, it was said,
of the _Times_. A series of advertisements addressed to individuals
appeared in that journal; these having been reduced at Tours to
minimum dimensions by photography, the sheet containing them was
thence transmitted by pigeon-post. On arrival within Paris the whole
was enlarged by means of the camera, after which the messages were
copied and dispatched to their several addresses. In this way a message
reached me from my beloved wife--the first I had received for upwards
of four months--it was, “Your family are well; most anxious about you.”
I fully appreciated the significance of these few words.
In respect to privations and risks, my individual experiences were
neither more nor less than those to which many others within the
bombarded city had perforce to submit. My stock of cash had become
exhausted; to all intents and purposes I was a pauper, only able to
obtain the requirements of life by giving to the _maitre d’hôtel_
in which I resided written authority to my London agents, that in
the event of my death they should pay all his claims upon me. I
subsequently learned that, in response to my urgent requests sent
_par ballon monté_, my wife had vainly endeavoured to have money
transmitted to me, until, having applied to the American Embassy in
London, a remittance was at once sent through that channel; in due time
received by me from Mr. Washbourne, and so my pecuniary obligations
discharged. As pressure in respect to food increased, I fear that on
some few occasions I partook of _bifteck de cheval_, and once,--only
once,--of _paté de chien_; but against both of these appetite rebelled,
and latterly I had to put up with the one salt herring with which I
was supplied as “meat rations” for three days. Prior to the complete
investment of the city, I had procured and hidden away such small
supplies as I could lay hands on, of anchovies, mushrooms, sailors’
biscuits, and oatmeal; the quantities of each were small, but such as
they were, they served their purpose.
All through the night of the 18th, large bodies of troops marched
silently towards positions previously assigned to them with reference
to coming events. The night was unusually dark; the streets presented
only glimering lamp-lights at distant intervals; the city enshrouded in
dense mist; beyond the gates the ground saturated with rain, the roads
by which the forces had to proceed encumbered with guns, waggons, and
other obstructive objects.
Daylight revealed to “all concerned” the Proclamation as follows, not
only published in the journals, but affixed to walls in various places,
namely: “Citizens, the enemy kills our wives and children, bombards us
night and day, covers with shells our hospitals. One cry, ‘To Arms!’
has burst from every breast. Those who can shed their life’s blood on
the field of battle will march against the enemy; those who remain,
jealous of the honour of their brothers, will, if required, suffer
with calm endurance every sacrifice, as their proof of their devotion
to their country. Suffer and die if necessary, but conquer! _Vive la
République!_”
Three _Corps d’Armée_, comprising more than one hundred thousand men,
under the commands of Ducrot, Vinoy, and Bellemere, had taken, or were
in progress of taking up positions under cover of Mont Valérien against
the Prussian lines between Montretout and Bugeval, the prevailing fog
so dense that assigned routes could not be maintained; several hours
were thus lost. The French troops were consequently worn out with
fatigue; portions of them had not arrived in position, among others
considerable bodies of artillery, so that when about 9 a.m. the fight
began, they had not been consolidated. On the other hand, the larger
forces against whom they were led were unfatigued by night march and
other difficulties; they had passed the night in relative quiet, had
good and ample rations, and were in full physical strength. With all
these disadvantages the first onslaught against the enemy’s positions
at Montretout and Fouilleuse was successful. Thence, toward the French
right, the combat quickly developed in fury; no fewer than five hundred
cannon, including both sides, were estimated as engaged in their deadly
work, excluding those of Mont Valérien, missiles from which whizzed
above our heads in their flight towards the German lines. On our side,
shells from the latter fell as it were from the zenith among the masses
of advancing infantry, making great gaps, as each successive cloud of
débris from their explosions cleared away. From Fouilleuse we were able
to see the terrible violence with which the fight now raged. There the
Société Internationale des Secours aux Blessés established a field
ambulance; many wounded received first aid, and thence were dispatched
to “fixed” establishments within the city. To reinforce the troops
engaged, whose losses were already very great, large bodies of men from
those in reserve marched laboriously towards the front. The ground was
soaked by rain, their progress slow and difficult, themselves weary,
fatigued, and physically weak. In their advance they came upon many
carcases of horses killed by German shells, some of the men falling
out of their ranks to cut from them slices of bleeding flesh; having
secured them on their backs, they resumed their places, and so onward
towards the enemy. Meanwhile, a horrible scene was taking place in
close proximity to the place where, mounted, I stood with a group of
Staff officers. A private of the 119th regiment of the line shot the
captain of his company while their battalion was advancing, and torn by
vertical fire as already mentioned. Ducrot ordered the man to be put
to death on the spot. A party of his own regiment was at once detailed
for the purpose; by it he was taken aside--not more than a few feet
from the left of the advancing column; he was seen to fall. A party of
brancardiers approached; they were warned off; one of the execution
party levelled his rifle and fired at him as he lay struggling on the
ground; then another; then a third, and now the unhappy man lies still
in death. We speculated among ourselves as to the circumstances that
may have led him to commit the crime so expiated.
As day advanced the thick mist of morning cleared away, revealing the
progress of battle and extent of field on which it raged. That the
French were more exposed than were the enemy was at once apparent;
yet, though suffering greatly by shot and shell from unseen batteries,
they stood their ground with obstinacy, inured as they had now become
to combat by their four months of experience. Later on, however,
hesitation is shown in their ranks; stragglers drop away; needlessly
large numbers[310] accompany to the rear their wounded comrades;
unsteadiness affects battalions; and now the sad spectacle is seen
Of one such body in flight down the declivity adjoining Montretout.
Officers make frantic efforts to rally their men; daylight fades in
gloom; soon night closes in, mist again covers the scene; firing from
both sides have ceased; all around is dark and silent.
In the darkness for hours did the ambulance men of various societies
traverse the field in pursuance of their work. As conveyances were in
progress towards the general rendezvous, confusion and crush increased,
as a combined result of darkness and an absence of regular roadways;
progress consequently so retarded that night was far advanced when we
reached the rampart gates, our conveyances _complet_ with wounded men.
As on the first occasion, roadsides and avenues within Port Maillot
were crowded with people. Loud and anxious inquiries for relatives
and friends who had taken part in the recent battle were frequent;
frivolity in abeyance, as if experience had impressed upon them the
significance of combat against our besiegers. That the result of the
day had been disastrous to the French was speedily realized. Next day
the casualties among the forces engaged were estimated at 1000 killed,
the greater number by artillery fire; the wounded as “very many.”
Meanwhile the work of bombarding Paris, scarcely if at all interfered
with by the incident of severe conflict just narrated, was increased
rather than diminished in its intensity; new batteries opened upon
the city, with _acharnement_, shells falling upon places hitherto
untouched. St. Denis was assailed, and underwent greater destruction
in respect to property and life than had been sustained by the
capital itself. A rush of people from that suburb took place, causing
serious inconvenience to those whose duty it was to provide them
with accommodation and food. All hopes of deliverance had become
extinguished; negotiations were accordingly opened with the German
Chancellor in view to an armistice being arranged. While they were
in progress, bombardment continued with its usual violence. Early in
the night of the 26th there was a sudden lull; a few minutes before
midnight there was discharged upon us a volley from all points of the
circle, such as we had never previously experienced; then followed
stillness. Bombardment had ceased; we knew that the Convention had
been signed. For 130 days Paris had been besieged; during thirty, the
advanced forts had been bombarded; during twenty-one, the city.[311]
Demonstrations by “the dangerous classes” of Belleville and Vilette
took place; their plea, the terms on which the armistice had been
concluded. The Hôtel de Ville was menaced by crowds of excited men,
gesticulating wildly as they shouted, “_Vive la Commune_!” They
are dispersed by force of arms; several of their numbers killed,
many more wounded. There is a flight towards the Mazas prison; an
entrance thereto is effected, some of the more noted of its inmates
released. A rush is made upon the small remaining food stores of their
arrondissements; they are broken into, their contents distributed among
the assailants. After a time these disturbances are suppressed. Trochu
has resigned his command; Vinoy is his successor.
When on January 27, 1871, the morning papers published the terms of
amnesty, the fact was one of common knowledge that the stock of food
remaining was not equal to more than six or seven days’ “rations,” even
according to the reduced scale to which the besieged were at the time
brought down; in fact, all were now at starvation point as a result
of gradually diminishing allowances of food. Next day the Germans
occupied Mont Valérien as the French troops marched out of it. Some
hours later appeared a proclamation by the Government of the Defence
announcing that “the Convention which terminates the resistance of
Paris will be signed in a few hours”; that “we could not have prolonged
the resistance without condemning to certain death two millions of
men, women, and children. Mortality has increased threefold.” “We come
out with all our honour,” the same document said, “and with all our
hopes, in spite of our present grief.” In accordance with the terms
agreed upon, the process began of disarming the citizen soldiers, of
whom groups along the thoroughfares showed by their gloomy style and
demeanour those pent-up feelings of disaffection which were soon to
break out in the horrors of the Commune.
The conditions to which Paris and its people had been reduced were
urgent. Severe cold, absolute want of fuel, the insufficient scale of
food to which all were officially limited, prevailing sickness and
mortality by disease, added to the recurring influx of wounded as
a result of desultory conflicts beyond the line of fortifications,
combined to render further resistance impossible.
All establishments set apart for the reception of wounded were
overcrowded. Not alone food, but appliances were insufficient in
quantity and kind. In many instances private families had received
wounded into their houses, and so crippled their own resources. The
result of the recent sortie and action at Montretout was an accession
to the numbers requiring care and accommodation of three to five
thousand, for actual statistics were unobtainable; professional and
other attendants were insufficient to meet the demands on their
services; while, as if still further to complicate matters, the Germans
sent several hundred wounded French into the city, and so lightened the
work of their own establishments.
In some ambulances such scenes were to be seen as French and German
wounded occupying adjoining beds; no longer “enemies,” but helpless;
unable to communicate with each other; many destined to quit the place
in death, for hospital diseases setting at defiance disinfection
and all other supposed preventive measures proved fatal to a large
proportion of patients within those establishments. A heavy offensive
odour, that of _pourriture_, pervades wards and corridors of the
buildings, extending to the streets or boulevards immediately
adjoining. In the mortuary of a large hospital the scene presented was
too horrible for detailed description.
The defence now ended had been carried on at a cost in human life in
respect to which reliable statistics were unobtainable. According to
one account, deaths on the field of battle and in ambulances amounted
among troops of the line and Mobiles to 50,000; to another to 63,000;
to a third to 73,000; neither estimate taking into account mortality
by disease and privation among the non-military inhabitants. On the
capitulation of Paris the troops who became prisoners of war numbered
about 180,000; the fortress guns “captured” by the enemy 1,500 field
pieces and 400 mitrailleuses; in addition the gunboats on the Seine,
locomotives, and rolling stock.
While making my round among the ambulances, I was somewhat surprised to
hear myself accosted by name by a wounded man who occupied one of the
beds past which I was moving. At once I entered into conversation with
him, naturally enough expressing sympathy for him. He briefly informed
me that he was in the 101st (British) Regiment, and landed with that
corps at Gosport on the occasion of its first arrival in England from
India; that he remembered me on duty there; that having left the
regiment he joined the Francs Tireurs of Paris at the beginning of
the siege; that fifty per cent. of his comrades had perished by shot,
disease, or at the hands of the Germans, into which they may have
fallen as prisoners; that he himself had not slept in a bed for three
months until brought to the ambulance wounded. He was but one example
of the material of which such volunteers were composed, and a similar
story to his could doubtless be told by many others.
Under the circumstances to which we were now reduced, welcome was
the news that supplies of food sent to the besieged from England and
elsewhere had arrived in proximity of the outskirts; credit must
be accorded to the supreme officers of the investing force for the
rapidity with which those supplies were forwarded to the now starving
people within, so that on the last day of January many waggon loads
were received, and forthwith distributed. On that day also postal
communication with the outer world was re-established, though with the
proviso that letters dispatched should be unsealed.