[110] The most reliable account of his death is given by a medical
student who attended him in his last moments. “Dombrowski was passing
with several members of the Commune in the Rue Myrrha, near the Rue
des Poissonniers, when he was struck by a bullet, which traversed the
lower part of his body. He was carried to a neighbouring chemist’s,
where I bandaged the wound. Before his transportation to the
Lariboisière Hospital, he ordered the fire to cease, but the troops
defending the barricade disobeyed the injunction. His sword was handed
by me to a captain of the 45th of the Line. His last words were nearly
identical with those which he uttered as he fell: ‘I am no traitor!’”
His worst enemies have said of him that he was a good soldier in a bad
cause.
[111] At the prison of Sainte-Pélagie, on Tuesday, the 23rd of May,
the unfortunate gendarmes, who had been made prisoners on the 18th,
were shot, together with M. Chaudey, a writer, on the _Siècle_,
arrested at the office of the journal, and conducted, first to Mazas
and afterwards to Sainte-Pélagie. (Appendix 11).
According to the _Siècle_, the “Procureur” of the Commune, Raoul
Rigault, presented himself, at the office at about eleven at night,
and having sent for M. Chaudey, said to him, without any preamble:
“I am here to tell you that you have not an hour to live.”
“You mean to say that I am to be assassinated,” replied Chaudey.
“You are to be shot, and that directly,” was the other’s rejoinder.
But, on reaching the prison, the National Guards who had been
summoned refused to do the odious work, and the Procureur went
himself to find others more docile. Chaudey was led before them,
Raoul Rigault drew his sword to give the signal, the muskets were
levelled and fired, and Chaudey fell, but wounded only. A sergeant
gave him the death blow by discharging his pistol at his head. The
next day, a hundred and fifty hostages of the Commune, confined at
the Prefecture of Police, amongst whom were Prince Galitzin and
Andreoli, a journalist, were about to be shot by an order of Ferré,
when the incendiary fires broke out and prevented the execution of
the order. At eleven o’clock, Raoul Rigault commanded the prisoners
to be released, and enjoined them to fight for the Commune; upon
their refusal, a shower of balls was discharged at them. The
prisoners rushed for refuge into the Rue du Harlay, which was in
flames, and were afterwards rescued by a detachment of the line.
That same day was fatal to Raoul Rigault. He was perceived by a
party of infantry at the moment when he was ringing at the door of
a house in the Rue Gay Lussac. His colonel’s uniform instantly made
him a mark for the soldiers; he had time to enter the house,
however, but was soon discovered, gave his name, and allowed
himself to be taken off towards the Luxembourg, but before reaching
it, he began to shout, “Vive la Commune!” “Down with the
assassins!” and made an effort to escape. The soldiers thrust him
against a wall and shot him down.
The next day, the 24th, marked the fate of the hostages, who, in
expectation of an attack of the Versaillais, had been transferred
from Mazas to La Roquette. “Monseigneur Darboy,” writes an
eye-witness (Monsieur Dubutte, miraculously saved by an error of
name), “occupied cell No. 21 of the 4th division, and I was at a
short distance from him, in No. 26. The cell in which the venerable
prelate was confined had been the office of one of the gaolers; it
was somewhat larger than the rest, and Monseigneur’s companions in
captivity had succeeded in obtaining for him a chair and a table.
On Wednesday, the 24th, at half-past seven in the evening, the
director of the prison—a certain Lefrançais, who had been a
prisoner in the hulks for the space of six years—went up, at the
head of fifty Federals, into the gallery, near which the most
important prisoners were incarcerated. Here they ranged themselves
along the walls, and a few moments later one of the head-gaolers
opened the door of the archbishop’s cell, and called him out. The
prelate answered, “I am here!” Then the gaoler passed on to M. le
President Bonjean’s cell (Appendix 12), then to that of Abbé
Allard, member of the International Society in Aid of the Wounded;
of Père du Coudray, Superior of the School of Ste-Geneviève; and
Père Clère, of the Brotherhood of Jesus; the last called being the
Abbé Deguerry, curé of the Madeleine. As the names were called,
each prisoner was led out into the gallery and down the staircase
to the courtyard; each side, as far as I could judge, was lined
with Federal guards, who insulted the prisoners in language that I
cannot repeat. Amid the hues and cries of these wretches my
unfortunate companions were conducted across the courtyard to the
infirmary, before which a file of soldiers were drawn up for the
execution. Monseigneur Darboy advanced and addressed his
murderers—addressed them words of pardon: then two of the men
approached the prelate, and falling on their knees implored his
pardon. The rest of the Federals threw themselves upon them, and
thrust them aside with oaths, then, turning to the prisoners, they
heaped fresh insults upon them. The chief officer of the
detachment, however, imposed silence on the men, and uttering an
oath, said, ‘You are here to shoot these men, not to insult them.’
The Federals were silenced, and upon the command of their
lieutenant, they loaded their muskets.
“Père Allard was placed against the wall, and was the first who was
struck; then Monseigneur Darboy fell, and the six prisoners were
thus shot in turn, showing, at this supreme moment, a saintly
dignity and a noble courage.”