The _mairie_ of the Second Arrondissement seems destined to be the
centre of resistance to the Central Committee. The Federals have not
been able, or have not dared, to occupy it. In the quarter of the Place
de la Bourse and the Place des Victoires, National Guards have
assembled and declared themselves Friends of Order. But they are few in
number. Yesterday morning, the 23rd of March, they were reinforced by
battalions that joined them, one by one, from all parts of Paris. They
obey the orders, they say, of Admiral Saisset, raised to the superior
command of the National Guard. It is believed that there are
mitrailleuses within the Bourse and in the court of the Messageries.
The massacre of the Rue de la Paix decided the most timorous. There is
a determination to have done, by some means or other, with tyrants who
represent in fact but a small part of the population of Paris, and who
wish to dominate over the whole city. The preparations for resistance
are being made between the Hôtel de Ville on the one hand, where the
members of the Committee are sitting, formidably defended, and the
Place Vendôme, crammed with insurgents, on the other. Is it civil
war—civil war, with all its horrors, that is about to commence? A
company of Gardes Mobiles has joined the battalions of Order. Pupils of
the Ecole Polytechnique come and go between the _mairie_ of the Second
Arrondissement and the Grand Hôtel, where Admiral Saisset and his staff
are said to be installed.[19] A triple line of National Guards closes
the entrance of the Rue Vivienne against carriages and everybody who
does not belong to the quarter. Nevertheless, a large number of people,
eager for information, manage to pass the sentries in spite of the
rule. On the Place de la Bourse a great crowd discusses, and
gesticulates around the piled bayonets which glitter in the sun. I
notice that the pockets of the National Guards are crammed full; a
large number of cartridges has been distributed.
The orders are strict: no one is to quit his post. There are men,
however, who have been standing there, without sleep, for twenty-four
hours. No one must leave the camp of the Friends of Order even to go
and dine. Those who have no money either have rations given them or are
provided at the expense of the _mairie_, from a restaurant of the Rue
des Filles Saint-Thomas, with a dinner consisting of soup and bouilli,
a plate of meat, vegetables, and a bottle of wine. I hear one of them
exclaim,
“If the Federals knew that we not only get our pay, but are also fed
like princes, they would come over to us, every man of them. As for us,
we are determined to obey the _maires_ and deputies of Paris.” Much
astonishment is manifested at the absence of Vice-Admiral Saisset; as
he has accepted the command he ought to show himself. Certain croakers
even insinuate that the vice-admiral hesitates to organise the
resistance, but we will not listen to them, and are on the whole full
of confidence and resolution. “We are numerous, determined; we have
right on our side, and will triumph.”
At about four o’clock an alarm is sounded. We hear cries of “To arms!
To arms!” The drums beat, the trumpets sound, the ranks are formed. The
ominous click, click, as the men cock their rifles, is heard on all
sides. The moment of action has arrived. There are more than ten
thousand men, well armed and determined. A company of Mobiles and the
National Guards defend the entrance of the Rue Vivienne. All this
tumult is caused by one of the battalions from Belleville, passing
along the boulevards with three pieces of cannon.
What is about to happen? When the insurgents reach the top of the Rue
Vivienne they seem to hesitate. In a few seconds the boulevards, which
were just now crowded, are suddenly deserted; and even the cafés are
closed.
At such a moment as this, a single accidental shot (several such have
happened this morning; a woman standing at a window at the corner of
the Rue Saint Marc was nearly killed by the carelessness, of one of the
Guards),—a single shot, a cry even, or a menacing gesture would suffice
to kindle the blaze. Nobody. moves or speaks. I feel myself tremble
before the possibility of an irreparable disaster; it is a solemn and
terrible moment.
The battalion from Belleville presents arms; we reply, and they pass
on. The danger is over; we breathe again. In a few seconds the crowd
has returned to the boulevards.