THE COMMUNE.

Early in the year 1871, after the signature of peace, Henty in pursuit

of his journalistic duties entered Paris, and during the wild days of

its occupation by the Commune he passed a life of adventure of which

volumes might be written, for, in brief, he saw all the fighting very

closely. It was a wild time, in which no man's life was safe, and in

the absence of law and order an Englishman bound to investigate and

report upon the proceedings of the ill-governed city dare hardly call

his soul his own.

During this period Henty's letters teem with information, all showing

his keen observation of minutiae. He describes the gathering and

marching down the Rue de Rivoli of one of the first armies of the

Commune, an army the more dangerous to the republic through so many

trained fighting men of the regular army having joined its ranks. The

determination and hatred of the settled government of the motley company

made up for their want of uniformity. With respect to their weapons, he

describes how a great many in the ranks, numbering in all some ten

thousand, were armed with the chassepot rifle, but the majority had old

muskets converted into snider breech-loaders, while a certain percentage

had nothing better than the old muzzle-loader. It was an armed mob,

though mingled with it were battalions of the National Guard in the pay

of the Commune. Later, when encountering the forces of the regular

army, the solidity of the much-talked-of fraternity was exemplified at

the first encounter, for, amidst cries of "Vive la Republique!" and

patriotic outbursts, one side would appeal to the other with a touching

cry: "Surely you will not fire on your brethren!" The answer to this

would be a volley, with the weaker side making a rapid retreat in search

of shelter.

Henty was very soon saying to the newspaper he represented: "I write my

daily letter in doubt as to whether it will ever come to hand. The post

has ceased to run, and we are cut off from all news from the provinces.

The gates of Paris are closed, we are in a state of siege, and the

passengers of such trains as are running are told that they will not be

allowed to return." The misery and suffering connected with the great

siege were quite forgotten, the fighting began again, and once more the

streets of the brilliant city were echoing with the rattle of musketry,

a sound punctuated with the sharp thud of the field-pieces that were

more and more brought into action, and whose shells in the early days

had a startling effect upon the insurgent members of the Commune. For

Henty observed the steadiness of the National Guards, who remained at

their posts and showed no signs of flinching, while on the other hand

the inexperienced, undrilled men of the insurgent ranks were prone to

throw themselves down flat in the road at each flash of a cannon and

remain there until the shell had burst, perhaps three hundred yards

away.

In these early revolutionary days, sometimes a strong body of the

Communists, in a state of wild excitement, would be on their way to

attack the regulars and carry all before them, when one of the forts

would open fire and send shells among them. To use the writers words,

"the effect was magical." About one-half of the column "skedaddled back

to Paris." It was not a retreat; the war element had evaporated much

more quickly than it had been generated, and doubtless if the leaders of

law and order had been more energetic, the Commune would have been

crushed in its infancy. Indeed the men of the lower orders from the

wildest parts of Paris were so utterly cowed, that they gave up their

muskets, refusing to have any more to do with the business. One man was

heard to remark naively, "If you call this fighting, I have had enough

of it," while one of the leaders of the mob, a self-dubbed general, an

enthusiast and a fanatic, but a man of courage, a _rara avis_ in the

party which his mania induced him to join, was seen no more. Presumably

he was shot, and died a soldier's death. Throughout his descriptions of

the fighting, of the firmness and pluck of the trained men, and of the

cowardice and shuffling of the mob, eager for plunder and rapine if they

could get the upper hand, and only too ready to escape into shelter,

Henty seems to consider the Commune as a thing gone stark-staring mad,

while its leaders were incited at this critical juncture by the

ill-judged articles that fulminated in the Red Press.

As an example of the state of affairs in these early days of the

Commune, and of the way in which he did his duty as a correspondent,

whatsoever the risk, Henty once related to a friend a couple of the most

exciting incidents in his life, which took place soon after his arrival

in Paris on account of the proclamation of the Commune. The first

occurred in the Place Vendome, which was being held by the National

Guards, just at the time when the head-quarters of the Insurrection were

at the Hotel de ville. The latter had been strongly fortified with

barricades and was held by thousands of the Communists, who had

strengthened their position by a battery of field-pieces. Matters had

arrived at a pass when a strong feeling of bitterness existed between

the body of order and those who were in favour of an entirely new form

of government, and the general feeling prevailed that unless the

insurgents realised the futility of their aims, bloodshed would ensue.

In his search for information Henty had learned that the loyalists were

about to make the first advances in the shape of a peaceful

demonstration in order to point out that matters might be easily settled

if the insurgents would listen to reason. But on going into the streets

and studying the appearance of the rough-looking mob that had gathered

in the neighbourhood of the Hotel de ville, the result of this

inspection was so unsatisfactory, that Henty felt full of doubt as to

whether the peaceful demonstration would have a peaceful end.

The demonstrators would have to come in procession down the Rue de la

Paix, and, wishing to have a good view of what would take place, he

chose a position near the Vendome Column, so as to see whether the body

of Communists who held the place in military force would allow them to

go by. After a time the head of the procession was seen approaching.

It appeared to be a well-dressed crowd selected for the occasion--people

of repute, in black coats and top hats, many of them even in evening

dress, and the most striking point of all, as evidence of their peaceful

demonstration, was that they were all unarmed, while in their midst a

white flag was carried, bearing the words, "Vive l'ordre!"

Apparently the party, about five hundred strong, were members of the

business classes, and in this form, that of a large deputation, they

began to descend the Rue de la Paix. But immediately upon this,

indications as to what their reception was to be began to be heard.

Directly after, sharp military commands rang out from the lines of the

defenders who held the Hotel de ville, on the Place Vendome bugles were

sounded, and a body of the National Guard advanced at the double and

formed four deep across the end of the Rue de la Paix. This thoroughly

blocked farther advance, while, to form a reserve, the Place was

occupied by a strong body of nearly three thousand National Guards, who

stood looking calm and determined and ready to prevent the party of

order from passing. Looking more peaceful than ever, the demonstrators

came steadily on without the slightest suggestion of military formation.

Henty relates that he did not anticipate trouble, for he felt sure that

the demonstrators would not attempt to force their way through the solid

body of Communists, and, satisfied with his excellent position as

spectator and gatherer of news, he stood fast.

As the black-clothed body of men drew near the line of National Guards

they began to wave their handkerchiefs, shouting, "Vive la Republique!"

or "Vive l'ordre!" and then, seeing that the Communists stood firm, they

distributed themselves across the street and began to enter into

conversation. They formed an irregular group some five or six feet

deep, and everything appeared as if it would come to an amicable

conclusion. The excitement of the gathering of armed men had passed

away, and nothing was heard but the murmur of conversation. So far from

anticipating danger, Henty had joined the demonstrators, and was

standing in the second row facing the Communists, when all at once

something occurred which was like the dropping of a spark into a heap of

gunpowder. A musket went off. The Communist who held it had fired in

the air, whether accidentally or of malice intent it is impossible to

say. The result was that, startled by the report, the lines of unarmed

men who faced the Communists took a step or two backward; then, as if

ashamed of their alarm, in the silence that followed, a cry arose that

it was nothing, an accident, and directly after there was another shout,

that of "Vive la Republique!"

But the spark had fired the mass. Another shot was fired. A sensible

and visible thrill ran through the front line of the Communists, they

levelled their guns, and the next moment, as if without orders, they

commenced a heavy fusillade upon the unarmed lines in front. The French

citizen who stood next to Henty, and with whom he had just been in

conversation respecting the probable termination of the affair, fell

dead at his feet, and many of those in the front row met the same fate,

for they were so near the Communists that the hitter's muskets almost

touched them when the firing began.

There was utter paralysis for the moment, and then a wild rush began,

men turning upon their heels and running straight up the Rue de la Paix

along which they had approached, while others, Henty included, turned

off to the right down the first street, a short distance from the

entrance to the Square. It was a state of wild excitement, a _sauve qui

peut_, men stumbling and tripping over each other in their desperate

haste to escape the storm of bullets that were whistling by them, too

many of which reached their mark, probably without aim in the excitement

of the discharge. It was a matter of minutes, but the time seemed long

enough before the angle of the street was turned and the retreating

crowd were in comparative safety, though all were in full expectation,

as they tore on, of hearing the Communists' advancing tramp and halt as

they stopped to fire down the street. This did not follow, for the

insurgents were too busy in expending their cartridges upon the flying

men who were running straight up the Rue de la Paix, giving Henty and

those with him time to escape up the next street before they fired in

their direction. How many were killed was never exactly known, but it

must certainly have been sixty or seventy; and he recalled, long years

after, the rage of the peaceful demonstrators against their cowardly

assailants. This was undoubtedly the match that fired one of the long

trains of disaster that ran through Paris during the holding of the

Commune.

It might have been supposed that, warned by the risk of mingling too

much with the excited people, Henty would have held aloof and avoided

too near proximity to the explosive race, ready to take fire without a

moment's warning. Yet his thirst for news would not allow him to stay

in the background when information reached him a couple of days later of

the possibility of there being a regular battle in the streets.

At this time the quarter of the Bank was strongly held by the National

Guard of that _arrondissement_, and every approach was thoroughly

guarded. A messenger came to Henty at the hotel where he was staying,

with the information that the Communists were astir in earnest, and had

sent two battalions of their infantry with a battery of artillery to

seize the Mairie of the First Arrondissement.

Hurrying off, he reached the entrance to the Place Saint Germain

l'Auxerrois as the head of the column of Communists came up, to find

themselves much in the same position as their victims of the peaceful

demonstration had occupied two days before, for they were immediately

facing a strong party of the National Guard, who were faithful to the

body of order. These men were drawn up eight deep across the street,

the windows of the houses on either side were also filled with men who

commanded the approach, while the main body of the Reserve occupied the

Place.

Everything looked threatening in the extreme, for upon this occasion it

was not the armed against the unarmed, but two strong bodies of

determined men face to face. The Communists as they marched up filled

the whole street; and while their officers advanced and began to parley,

their battery of field-pieces was brought forward and took up position

threateningly in front of the attacking party.

There was an excited interval. The defenders of the Mairie absolutely

refused to give way, and the angry conference went on, for the

Communists were determined to carry out the orders they had received

from head-quarters and to obtain possession of the place.

At length, after angry debate, fierce bluster began, and the commander

of the Communist force shouted to the gunners in front to load with

grape--an order which was immediately carried out. Henty states that,

in his eagerness to see and learn everything that passed, he was

standing on the footway with a couple of civilians in a line with the

officers parleying. He now shifted his position a few yards to an open

door leading into one of the houses, which was held by the party of

order, so as to be able to rush into shelter when the first shot was

fired.

Still the excitement grew. Nothing could have exceeded the calmness and

determination of the defenders who stood facing the loaded cannon ten

paces away. Meanwhile, though, their comrades who occupied the houses

on either side of the line had their pieces levelled in readiness to

shoot down the artillerymen as soon as matters came to the worst and the

officers in front had withdrawn from their conference. So firm and

commanding, indeed, was the position of the defenders, that Henty felt

convinced that, in spite of the field-pieces, had the orders to fire

come, although outnumbered by fully two to one, the scowling ruffians

bent on advance would have been driven down the street, leaving their

battery in the hands of their foe. This, however, could only have been

a short-lived success, for there were thousands of their comrades at the

Communists' head-quarters, with several batteries of cannon.

Be that as it may, the tension was extreme. The defenders of the Mairie

stood silent and waiting for the worst, whilst a roar of angry

denunciations and revilings came from the Communists. In spite of the

threats levelled at them, the defenders of the Mairie stood fast,

waiting for the orders to be given, and this without even attempting to

load. Their instructions were to fix bayonets ready for the order

"Charge!" and there they stood with their pieces levelled, waiting for

the signal before springing forward with a dash to clear the Place and

street with the bayonet; the signal was understood to be the firing by

the enemy of the first gun. It was, as has been said, a time of extreme

tension, and the firm aspect of the defenders had its effect upon the

insurgent mob.

The blustering on the part of the Communist officers was succeeded by

thought. These men, these leaders of the Communists, were the noisy

demagogues and declaimers of the various cabarets; they were men

selected not for political knowledge, nor for military instinct, nor for

ability as men of brain, but entirely on account of their policy of

bluster, their savageness of language, and their denunciation of

everything that was opposed to decent policy and order; and now they

felt that they were face to face with defeat and probably with their own

death. They were being put to the test, and it was no time for carrying

matters with words.

They gave a look round, and at the first glance saw muskets at all the

windows aimed at them as well as at the gunners at their posts, and the

sight of these menacing muzzles made such courage as they possessed

begin to ooze. They fully realised that their notion of being able to

overawe the defenders by ordering the field-pieces to the front and

having them charged was a failure, and they felt pretty certain that

were a field-piece discharged they would be among the first of the

victims of the defence. Accordingly the leaders gathered together and

exchanged whispers, the result of which was that the parley which had

come to an end in a fierce bullying way was reopened in a much tamer

spirit. There was no shouting, no gesticulation, and at the end of a

minute or two these self-constituted heroes of the moment issued fresh

orders to their followers, with the result that the battery of

field-pieces was run back about a hundred yards. Henty and his

companions, who were standing, as it were, strung up and waiting between

two fires, now began to breathe again, seeing as they did that the

threats of the Communists upon that occasion were empty wind, for the

latter had backed down and dared not carry out their threats. The

struggle with all its horrors was averted for the time, and to the

intense satisfaction of the civilian spectators, the Communist infantry

fell back level with their guns; mounted officers who acted as

aides-de-camp to the leaders of the enemy cantered to and fro to the

Hotel de ville with messages and fresh orders, with the result at last

that each party agreed to hold its own till after the elections that

were about to take place. Henty, who had stood fast through all,

narrates that of all the episodes he witnessed during the Commune, these

were the most exciting incidents through which he passed.