THE FREEMASONS JOIN THE COMMUNE--THE FIRST EVACUATION OF THE
FORT OF ISSY--CREATION OF THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLIC SAFETY.
M. Thiers was fully acquainted with the failings of the Commune, but he
also knew the weakness of his army. Besides, he piqued himself upon
playing the soldier before the Prussians. In order to appease his
colleagues, eager for the assault on Paris, he received haughtily the
conciliators, who multiplied their advances and their lame combinations.
Everybody intermeddled, from the good and visionary Considerant down to
the cynic Girardin, down to Saisset's ex-aide-de-camp Schoelcher, who
had replaced his plan of battle of the 24th March by a plan of
conciliation. These encounters became the common topics of raillery.
Since its pompous declaration, "All Paris will rise," the _Ligue des
Droits de Paris_ had been altogether sunk out of sight. It was perfectly
understood that these Radicals were in search of some decent contrivance
to back out of the peril. At the end of April their sham movements
served only as a foil to set off the courageous conduct of the
Freemasons.
On the 21st April the Freemasons, having gone to Versailles to ask for
the armistice, complained of the municipal law recently voted by the
Assembly. "What!" M. Thiers replied, "but this is the most liberal one
we have had in France for eighty years." "We beg your pardon, and how
about the communal institutions of 1791?" "Ah! you want to return to the
follies of our fathers?" "But, after all, are you then resolved to
sacrifice Paris?" "There will be some houses riddled, some persons
killed, but the law will be enforced." The Freemasons had this hideous
answer placarded in Paris.
On the 26th they met at the Chatelet, and several proposed that they
should go and plant their banners on the ramparts. A thousand cheers
answered. M. Floquet, who, with an eye to the future, had sent in his
resignation as deputy, together with MM. Lockroy and Clemenceau,
protested against this co-operation of the small middle-class with the
people. His shrill voice was drowned in the enthusiastic cries in the
hall.[143] On the motion of Ranvier, the Freemasons went up to the
Hotel-de-Ville, preceded by their banner, where they were met by the
Council in the Court of Honour. "If at the outset," said their
spokesman, Thirifocq, "the Freemasons did not wish to act, it was
because they wanted to have certain proof that Versailles would not hear
of conciliation. They are ready to-day to plant their banner on the
rampart. If one single ball touches it, the Freemasons will march with
the same ardour as yourselves against the common enemy." This
declaration was loudly applauded. Jules Valles, in the name of the
Commune, tendered his red scarf, which was twisted round the banner, and
a delegation of the Council accompanied the brethren to the Masonic
temple in the Rue Cadet.
They came three days after to redeem their word. The announcement of
this intervention had given great hope to Paris. From early in the
morning an immense crowd encumbered the approaches to the Carrousel, the
rendezvous of all the lodges; and, despite a few reactionary Freemasons,
who had protested in a placard, at ten o'clock 10,000 brethren,
representing fifty-five lodges, had gathered in the Carrousel. Six
members of the Council led them to the Hotel-de-Ville in the midst of
the crowd and a lane of battalions. A band, playing music of solemn and
ritual character, preceded the procession; then came superior officers,
the grand-masters, the members of the Council, and the brethren, with
their wide blue, green, white, red or black ribbon, according to their
grade, grouped around sixty-five banners that had never before been
displayed in public. The one carried at the head of the procession was
the white banner of Vincennes, bearing in red letters the fraternal and
revolutionary inscription, "_Love one another_." A lodge of women was
especially cheered.
The banners and a numerous delegation were introduced into the
Hotel-de-Ville, the members of the Council waiting to receive them on
the balcony of the staircase of honour. The banners were fixed along the
steps. These standards of peace by the side of the red flag, this small
middle-class joining hands with the proletariat under the proud image of
the Republic, these cries of fraternity dazzled, brightened up even the
most downcast. Felix Pyat indulged in a rhapsody of words and rhetorical
antitheses. Old Beslay was much more eloquent in a few words broken by
true tears. A brother solicited the honour of being the first to plant
on the rampart the banner of his lodge, _La Perseverance_, founded in
1790, in the era of the great federations. A member of the Council
presented the red flag: "Let it accompany your banners; let no hand
henceforth turn us against each other." And the orator of the
delegation, Thirifocq, pointing to the banner of Vincennes: "This will
be the first to be presented before the ranks of the enemy. We will say
to them, 'Soldiers of the mother country, fraternise with us, come and
embrace us.' If we fail, we shall go and join the companies of war."
When the delegates left the Hotel-de-Ville, a free balloon, marked with
the three symbolical points, made an ascent, here and there dropping the
manifesto of the Freemasons. The immense procession having shown the
Bastille and the boulevards its mysterious banners, frantically
applauded, arrived about two o'clock at the cross-roads of the
Champs-Elysees. The shells of Mont-Valerien obliged them to take the
bye-streets on their way to the Arc-de-Triomphe. There a delegation of
all the venerables went to plant the banners at the most dangerous
posts, from the Porte-Maillot to the Porte-Bineau. When the white flag
was hoisted on the outpost of the Porte-Maillot the Versaillese ceased
firing.
The delegates of the Freemasons and some members of the Council,
appointed by their colleagues to accompany them, advanced, headed by
their banner, into the Avenue of Neuilly. At the bridge of Courbevoie,
before the Versaillese barricade, they found an officer who conducted
them to General Montaudon, himself a Freemason. The Parisians explained
the object of their manifestation, and asked for a truce. The general
proposed that they should send a deputation to Versailles. Three
delegates were chosen, and their companions returned to the town. In the
evening silence reigned from St. Ouen to Neuilly, Dombrowski having
taken upon himself to continue the truce. For the first time for
twenty-five days the sleep of Paris was not disturbed by the report of
cannon.
The next day the delegates returned. M. Thiers had hardly deigned to
receive them, had shown himself impatient, irritated, decided to grant
nothing and to admit no more deputations. The Freemasons then resolved
to march to battle with their insignia.
In the afternoon the _Alliance Republicaine des Departements_ made an
act of adhesion to the Commune. Milliere, who had quite joined the
movement without being able to gain the confidence of the
Hotel-de-Ville, exerted himself to group the provincials residing at
Paris. Who does not know what the provinces contributed in blood and
sinew to the great town? Out of 35,000 prisoners of French origin
figuring in the official reports of Versailles, there were, according to
their own statement, only 9,000 born Parisians. Each departmental group
was to strain itself to enlighten its native place, to send circulars,
proclamations, delegates. On the 30th all the groups met in the Court of
the Louvre to vote an address to the departments, and all, about 15,000
men, headed by Milliere, went to the Hotel-de-Ville "to renew their
adhesion to the patriotic work of the Commune of Paris."
The procession was still passing when a sinister rumour spread: the fort
of Issy had been evacuated.
Under cover of their batteries, the Versaillese, pushing forward, had on
the night of the 26th to the 27th surprised the Moulineaux, by which the
park of Issy may be reached. On the following day sixty pieces of
powerful calibre concentrated their shells on the fort, while others
occupied Vanves, Montrouge, the gunboats and the enceinte. Issy answered
valiantly, but our trenches, to which Wetzel ought to have attended,
were in bad condition. On the 29th the bombardment redoubled and the
projectiles ploughed the park. At eleven o'clock in the evening the
Versaillese ceased firing, and in the nocturnal stillness surprised the
Federals and occupied the trenches. On the 30th, at five o'clock in the
morning, the fort, which had received no warning of this incident, found
itself surrounded by a semi-circle of Versaillese. The commander, Megy,
was disconcerted, sent for reinforcements, but received none. The
garrison grew alarmed, and these Federals, who had cheerfully withstood
a hailstorm of shells, took fright at a few skirmishers. Megy held a
council, and the evacuation was decided upon. The cannon were
precipitately spiked--so badly that they were unnailed the same
evening--and the bulk of the garrison left. Some men with different
notions of duty made it a point of honour to stay at their post. In the
course of the day a Versaillese officer summoned them to surrender
within a quarter of an hour on pain of being shot. They did not even
answer.
At three o'clock Cluseret and La Cecilia arrived at Issy with a few
companies picked up in haste. They deployed as skirmishers, drove the
Versaillese from the park, and at six o'clock the Federals reoccupied
the fort. At the entrance they found a child, Dufour, near a wheelbarrow
filled with cartridges and cartouches, ready to blow himself up, and, as
he believed, the vault with him. In the evening Vermorel and Trinquet
brought other reinforcements, and we reoccupied all our positions.
At the first rumour of the evacuation, National Guards had hurried to
the Hotel-de-Ville interpellating the Executive Commission. It denied
having given any order to evacuate the fort, and promised to punish the
traitors if there were any. In the evening it arrested Cluseret on his
arrival from the fort of Issy. Strange rumours circulated about him, and
he quitted the Ministry without leaving the slightest trace of any
useful work whatever. As to the defence of the interior, all he had done
was to bury cannon at the Trocadero, which, he said, were to breach
Mont-Valerien. At a later period, after the fall of the Commune, he
endeavoured to throw his whole incapacity upon his colleagues, treating
them in English reviews as vain and ignorant fools, imputing villanies
to a man like Delescluze, stating that his arrest had ruined everything,
and modestly calling himself the "incarnation of the people."[144]
This panic of Issy was the origin of the Committee of Public Safety.
Already on the 28th April, at the end of the sitting, Miot, one of the
best-bearded men of 1848, had risen to demand "without phrases" the
creation of a Committee of Public Safety, having authority over all the
Commissions. Being pressed to give his reasons, he majestically replied
that he believed the Committee necessary. There was only one opinion as
to the necessity of strengthening the central control and action, for
the second Executive Commission had shown itself as impotent as the
first, each delegate going his own way and decreeing on his own account.
But what signified this word Committee of Public Safety, this parody of
the past and scarecrow of boobies? It jarred with this proletarian
revolution, this Hotel-de-Ville, whence the original Committee of Public
Safety had torn away Chaumette, Jacques Roux and the best friends of the
people. But the Romanticists of the Council had only a smattering of the
history of the Revolution, and this high-sounding title delighted them.
They would have there and then voted it but for the energy of some
colleagues, who insisted on a discussion. "Yes," said these latter, "we
want a vigorous Commission, but give us no revolutionary pasticcio. Let
the Commune be re-formed; let it cease to be a small talkative
parliament, quashing one day, just as it suits its caprices, what it
created the day before." And they proposed an Executive Committee. The
votes were equally divided.
The affair of Issy turned the scale. On the 1st May 34 _Ayes_ against 28
_Noes_ carried the title of Committee of Public Safety. On the whole of
the project 48 voted for and 23 against. Several had voted for the
Committee notwithstanding its title, with the only object of creating a
strong power. Many explained their votes. Some alleged they were obeying
the _mandat imperatif_ of their electors. Some wanted "to make the
cowards and traitors tremble;" others simply declared, like Miot, that
"it was an indispensable measure." Felix Pyat, who had egged on Miot,
and violently supported the proposition in order to win back the esteem
of the ultras, gave this cogent reason: "Yes: considering that the words
_Salut Public_ are absolutely of the same epoch as the words French
Republic and Commune of Paris." But Tridon: "No: because I dislike
useless and ridiculous cast-off old clothes." Vermorel: "No: they are
only words, and the people have too long taken up with words." Longuet:
"Not believing any more in words of salvation than in talismans and
amulets, I vote No." Seventeen collectively declared against the
institution of a Committee, which, they said, would create a
dictatorship, and others pleaded the same motive, which was puerile
enough. The Council remained so sovereign that eight days after it
overturned the Committee.
Having protested by this vote, the opponents ought afterwards to have
made the best of the situation. Tridon had certainly said, "I see no men
to put in such a Committee;" all the more reason not to leave the place
to the Romanticists. Instead of coming to an understanding with those of
their colleagues who were desirous to concentrate the power and not
galvanise a corpse, the opponents folded their arms. "We can," they
said, "appoint no one to an institution considered by us as useless and
fatal.... We consider abstention as the only dignified, logical, and
politic attitude."
The ballot, thus stigmatised beforehand, gave a power without authority;
there were only 37 votes. Ranvier, A. Arnaud, Leo Meillet, Ch. Gerardin,
Felix Pyat were named. The alarmists might comfort themselves. The only
one of real energy, the upright and warm-hearted Ranvier, was at the
mercy of his blind kindliness.
The friends of the Commune, the brave soldiers of the trenches and of
the forts, then learnt that there was a minority at the Hotel-de-Ville.
It put in its appearance at the very moment when Versailles unmasked its
batteries. This minority, which, with the exception of some ten members,
comprised the most enlightened and the most laborious members of the
Council, was never able to accommodate itself to the situation. These
men could never understand that the Commune was a barricade, not a
government. This was the general error, the superstitious belief in
their governmental longevity; hence, for instance, they delayed for
seven months the date for the total return of the pledges at the
pawnshops. There were perhaps as many dreamers in the minority as in the
majority. Some put forward their principles like the head of a Medusa,
and would have made no concessions even for the sake of victory. They
strained the reaction against the principle of authority to the verge of
suicide. "We," they said, "were for liberty under the Empire; in power
we will not deny it." Even in exile they have fancied that the Commune
perished through its authoritative tendencies. With a little diplomacy,
by yielding to circumstances and the weaknesses of their colleagues,
they might have detached from the majority all men of real value.[145]
Tridon had come to them uninvited, but his was a superior mind; they
ought to have made advances to the others, opposing to the mere
braggarts precise ideas, and by true energy reduced the turbulent. They
remained unrelenting, dogged, and contented themselves with forcible
protests.
Thenceforth divergences degenerated into hostilities. The council-room
was small, badly ventilated; the soon overheated atmosphere ruffled the
temper. The discussions grew bitter, and Felix Pyat turned them into
attacks. Delescluze never spoke but for union, concord. The other would
have preferred the Commune dead rather than saved by one of those he
bore a grudge to, and he hated whoever smiled at his craziness. He did
not mind discrediting the Council, aspersing its most devoted members,
so that he resented a trespass on his vanity. He could lie with perfect
effrontery, carve out some infamous calumny, slaver a colleague, then
suddenly, in emotional attitude, open his arms, exclaiming, "Let us
embrace." He now accused Vermorel of having sold his journal to the
Empire after having offered it to the Orleanists. He glided about in the
lobbies, the Commissions, a Barrere of the boards, now insinuating, now
foaming, now patriarchal. "The Commune! why it is my child! I have
watched over it for twenty years. I have nursed, I have rocked it." To
hear him, the 18th March was owing to him. He thus enlisted the naive,
the light-headed sent to the Council by the public meetings, and,
despite his blank incapacity, shown by the man while a member of the
first executive, despite his attempts at fight, he picked up twenty-four
voices at the election of the Committee of Public Safety. The aspic
profited by it to hiss forth discord.
Disunion within the Council was fatal, the mother of defeat. It
ceased--let the people know this as well as their faults--when they
thought of the people, when they rose above these miserable personal
quarrels. They followed the funeral of Pierre Leroux, who had defended
the insurgents of June, 1848; ordered the demolition of the Brea church,
built in memory of a justly punished traitor; of the expiatory monument,
an affront to the Revolution; were not forgetful of the political
prisoners still at the Bagnio, and ennobled the Place d'Italie with the
name of Duval. All Socialist decrees passed unanimously; for though
they differed they were all Socialists. There was but one voice in the
Council to expel two of its members guilty of some former offence,[146]
and no one even in the thick of the peril dared to utter the word
capitulation.
FOOTNOTES:
[143] Before the Commission of Inquiry at the Assembly he has assumed
the attitude of a Daniel in the lions' den. The meeting, however,
contented with hissing him, for Paris let these impotent drones buzz as
much as they liked without taking any notice of them.
[144] Appendix IX.
[145] The minority formed a nucleus of twenty-two members: Andrieu,
Arnold, A. Arnould, Avrial, Beslay, Clemence, V. Clement, Courbet,
Frankel, E. Gerardin, Jourde, Lefrancais, Longuet, Malon, Ostyn, Pindy,
Serraillier, Theisz, Tridon, Valles, Varlin, Vermorel.
[146] Blanchet, an ex-Capucin and bankrupt, and E. Clement, who under
the Empire had offered his services to the police.