of his officers and men, requesting for the former passes into
Switzerland, for the latter passes into France. After various
negotiations, the affair was left in the hands of General Vinoy, and it
was agreed that all the garrison of Vincennes, having never fired a
shot, should be detained prisoners only temporarily; but that all
fugitives who had taken refuge there should be surrendered
unconditionally. The garrison eagerly consented to the terms, and at
once put their chiefs in prison. Orders were found on many of them,
signed Ulysse Parent, for the burning of the Hôtel de Ville, the Bourse,
and other places.
The Luxembourg is to replace temporarily the Hôtel de Ville, and the
Staff has already moved there. Everything is going on quietly enough in
most parts of Paris, but in the Belleville Quarter life is still unsafe.
Not only shots are fired from windows, but occasionally Insurgents fire
off revolvers upon officers at a few yards' distance. Many fear that,
notwithstanding the large numbers of the Insurgents caught, and the
terrible example made, enough have escaped to give further trouble, if
not by open resistance, at least by arson and secret assassination. The
severities, moreover, exercised by the military authorities have
produced a pretty strong feeling of reaction against them, and in some
of even the least revolutionary Quarters the troops are scarcely
popular, certainly not so popular as when they entered Paris. The
Insurgents find many sympathizers to hide them, and assist their escape
from Paris.
The policy of England with reference to those who have escaped is
watched with great anxiety.
Active measures are being taken to cleanse the streets and rid them of
the dead bodies, some of which had been buried where they fell under the
barricades, with a foot or two of soil over them. Passers-by are pressed
into the service as burying parties, and the English Embassy has
received complaints from Englishmen of having been seized for this
purpose. The smell of corpses in some places is offensively strong, and
it is feared this hot weather following upon the heavy rain may breed a
pestilence.
Traffic in the streets at night is getting easier, though the _cafés_
have to be closed at 11. The unpopularity of the troops is no doubt, in
part due to the deeply-rooted Parisian dislike of military rule and the
abolition of the National Guard--a measure which, however necessary,
under no circumstances is likely to be welcome.
The firemen of Havre who came to Paris to aid in extinguishing the
recent conflagrations have returned home to-day.
One of the most important of the "hostages" who suffered death at the
hands of the Commune--the most important person of their lay victims--M.
Bonjean, was President of the Court of Cassation, and it was only the
fact of his holding a high position, and being respected by all persons
whose respect was worth having, that can have rendered him odious. He
was a very old man, as old at least as the Abbé Deguerry. It was chiefly
as a Judge and not as a politician that his name was known to the world,
yet, all that was known of him as a politician was in his favour.
Indeed, he enjoyed the rare distinction of being, perhaps, the one
Liberal member of an Assembly so bigoted and so subservient as was the
Senate under the Empire. Notwithstanding his advanced age, he remained
firm at his post during the siege and during the far more perilous
period of the conflict between M. Thiers and the Comité Central. His
arrest was, so to speak, an accident, as he happened to be paying, or
expected to pay, a visit, by appointment, to the house of his friend,
the Procureur-général, when the police of the Communists were taking
possession of the house of the latter officer. He bore his imprisonment,
old as he was, with patience and resignation, remarking that for the
last 40 years he had been self-condemned to upwards of 12 hours' hard
labour a day over his books and papers, and that he could work as well
at these in a prison cell as in a palace.
JUNE 2d, AND 3rd.
Two days ago I was so fortunate as to meet Mons. Petit, the Secretary of
the late Archbishop, who had only escaped from the prison in which he
had been confined with the unfortunate Prelate the day before. M. Petit
did not himself see M. Darboy executed, though he saw the procession
pass and heard the firing. Out of 16 priests and 38 gendarmes confined
in the prison, 26 were shot, and the fate of the remainder had been
decided upon when an attempt to escape made by the criminal prisoners,
who were the original occupants of the gaol, succeeded, and with the
help of one of the gaolers the whole body made an attack upon the
Insurgent guard, who, in fact, did not wait for it, but abandoned their
post as soon as they perceived that all their prisoners were at liberty.
The priests succeeded in changing their clerical costume, but not in
sufficiently disguising themselves, for M. Petit saw four of his
companions shot at the first barricade they reached; he therefore fled
back to his prison, and, finding a common prison shirt, he reduced his
costume to that garments and took refuge in a bed in the hospital ward.
The prison was not again guarded, but those who casually passed through
it supposed him to be a sick prisoner not worth notice; and here he
remained until Sunday evening, when his suspense was put an end to by
the arrival of the soldiery. In the Chapelle Ardente of the Madeleine
lies the body of the _curé_ of that church, who was shot by the side of
the Archbishop, and a stream of persons, mostly women, with saddened,
awe-struck faces passed through it all yesterday afternoon. The body of
the Archbishop has been recovered, and is at the Palace.
I have now explored Paris in every direction to judge with some degree
of accuracy of the extent of the damage done, but I will spare you any
detailed account of those scenes of havoc and ruin, that I have partly
described already which differ in their character according to the agent
of destruction, and which consist of ruins caused by shells and ruins
caused by fire. Houses which have been destroyed by shells present a far
more ghastly appearance than those which have been burnt, and the aspect
of the street at Point du Jour is calculated to strike the imagination
of those who are now entering Paris for the first time from Versailles
by that gate. The same may be said of the houses on both sides of the
Avenue de la Grande Armée, and in the neighbourhood of the Porte
Maillot; but nothing that I have seen equals the Auteuil Railway
Station, where the building, the line, and the railway bridge have all
been crumpled up together, as if some giant hand had squeezed them into
a shapeless mass. The iron bridge still spans the road, but with rails
and girders so contorted and covered with _débris_ that we were afraid
to drive under it for fear the slight concussion caused by a carriage
passing beneath might bring the tottering mass down on our heads. A
little beyond, a sentry is placed to prevent people passing beneath a
house which is on the verge of crumbling to the ground. It is a lofty,
handsome building, elegantly furnished, and quite new, which has been
completely cut in two, and the furniture of each successive story is
thus exposed. One room on the fourth floor was apparently a boudoir, for
the rich crimson-covered furniture stands trembling at the edge of the
"_parquet_," and a heavy armchair threatens with the least jar to come
down with a crash into the middle of the road. It was reserved for
French artillery to complete the work which the German artillery began.
I drove round this same road some days after the first siege, and,
compared to their present condition, these suburbs might then have been
considered well preserved and habitable. Looking at the long _enceinte_
of fortifications with its battered breaches and crumbling embrasures,
one is puzzled whether M. Thiers deserves more credit for the skill with
which he put it up or for that with which he has knocked it down.
Anxious to see to what condition the conquerors have reduced the
Insurgent stronghold at Belleville, I have returned from penetrating its
disagreeable recesses. As usual, even in peaceful times, the lower part
of the Faubourg du Temple was densely crowded with an agitated,
restless throng, composed principally of women. Most of the shops were
shut, probably because their owners were either shot or in prison. Those
who lounged in their doorways looked surly and suspicious; nor is this
much to be wondered at, for during the last two days every domicile has
been searched in this Quarter from attic to cellar, and every street
swarms with denouncers and soldiers. As we approached Ménilmontant the
crowd became thinner, and the soldiers more numerous, until they almost
lined the street on either side. Here and there were piles of broken
arms and heaps of National Guard coats and trousers. The road was
literary strewn with caps, which had been torn from the heads of
prisoners and flung in the mud. Old women were rummaging in the heaps
for something worth taking away which was not of a military character,
as their operations were closely watched by the soldiery, who were by no
means of an amiable type. Here were no signs of fraternization or
amicable intercourse. At one place at least a dozen omnibuses were
collected and crammed with arms and military stores, a magazine of which
I saw in the process of being emptied. Three thousand Orsini bombs were
also found. I have specimens of two kinds in my possession; one is
circular, flat, and hollow, about six inches in diameter and an inch and
a half thick, and fitted all round its edge with little hammers, which
play upon a glass case inside filled with nitro-glycerine. Whichever way
the bomb falls it is sure to strike one of these hammers, which explodes
the nitro-glycerine. The other is a zinc ball, rather smaller than a
cricket ball, filled with powder and covered with nipples, upon which
are percussion caps. It cannot fall without striking a cap and
exploding. It is natural that the discovery of such objects should
exasperate the soldiery, for whom they were intended, and who cannot yet
walk with any feeling of security along streets filled with a population
who employ such diabolical engines of destruction. Hitherto, in most of
the instances in which they have been used, the culprit has been a
woman; more reckless and vindictive than the men, they have, in many
instances, literally courted death, forcing their fate by acts of
violence when escape was evidently impossible. Near the top of the steep
hill which leads to the Mairie of Ménilmontant were several _cordons_ of
sentries, through which we had some difficulty in passing, owing to a
commotion which had scarcely yet subsided, and which showed how
combustible were the materials of which the population here is
composed. There had been an altercation between a sergeant of the Line
and a citizen, in which the latter had offered some violence and had
been shot on the spot; his body was still palpitating on the pavement as
I came suddenly and unexpectedly upon it, and we were warned, by an
angry cry of "_au large_" from a sentry, that it would be a very simple
matter in the then temper of the soldiery to meet the same fate. It is
easy to imagine the scowling looks and stifled curses of the men and
women glaring from doorways and windows at the execution of a friend
before their eyes, and we began to feel that we were objects of equal
suspicion and dislike on either side. At every step we were challenged,
and the fact that we had a military pass made it clear to the
Bellevilleites that we were their enemies. We had now reached the crown
of the hill--the very heart of Belleville, and the last stronghold of
the Insurgents. It was crowded with soldiery: an hour in Belleville
under existing circumstances is enough to satisfy the morbid appetite
for excitement which may tempt people to go there. Notwithstanding the
crowds on the Boulevards, many of the shops are still shut, in
consequence of the absence of their owners from Paris. The difficulties
of entering and leaving the city are still so great that many days must
elapse before the ordinary population can return. Meantime, the want of
gas makes the streets as they were in the darkest moments of the siege,
and the gloom after dark, combined with the dangers of arrest, does not
tempt people to remain abroad much later than 10 o'clock.
Yesterday, out of one of the houses from which a shot had been fired, an
innocent Englishman, who, being elderly and deaf, knew nothing of what
had happened, came downstairs unsuspectingly on to the pavement into the
middle of the crowd, and had a very narrow escape for his life. Some
ingenious self-constituted detective called out "That's the man," and
the crowd, having long waited in vain for somebody, were only too glad
to have a victim thus extemporized to their hands, and if a few of the
cooler and more humane bystanders had not interfered, the Englishman
might have been murdered in cold blood and in broad daylight. As it was,
he got off with no more serious injury than torn clothes and a mauling
which may keep him to his bed for a fortnight.
What, to those who have witnessed the recent transformation scenes in
the great Parisian melodrama, is newest and strangest is the crowd of
well-dressed holyday-making loungers streaming so thickly over the
broad pavement that it is no easy matter to get through them, and
occupying every available chair outside the adjoining _café_. Where in
the world do they all come from? Many of them have stories of their
recent experiences to tell which, well arranged, might make the fortune
of a theatrical manager--stories so sensational that one would feel
bound to refuse them credence if they were not in perfect harmony with
the sensational scenes of which every third man's personal experience
has supplied him with a specimen. One man has been close prisoner in a
cellar two days and nights while fighting has been going on all around
him and over his head. Another has had to fly amid bullets from the
suffocating smoke of burning buildings, his ears still ringing with the
cries of poor wretches who could not muster up their courage for the
rush, and who risked a lingering death under the fallen ruins.
Numerous corpses have been dug out of cellars over which had fallen
masses of burning houses, and many probably still remain, at which it is
impossible to get. In the Rue Royale and its immediate neighbourhood
last night the air was tainted with the unmistakable smell of putrefying
bodies, which, it was supposed, were lying under the huge masses of
smouldering woodwork and masonry still heaped upon them. The fire,
though the engines have been at work at it six days and nights, has not
yet been completely extinguished, and last night I and a friend,
although he had his wife to protect him, were compelled to take our turn
at the pumps. We in vain pleaded that we would not leave the lady alone.
The head of the pressgang who had kidnapped us would be delighted to
take care of her while we worked, and as soon as it appeared that we
were only to work a short time--not to be kept on indefinitely into the
small hours of the night--we were not sorry to lend a helping hand. A
fresh batch of captives, condemned to hard labour, shortly came up and
replaced us. One of our objections to being kept long at work was that
it was getting late, and that after dark it is no very easy or safe
matter to go about the streets.
JUNE 4th AND 5th.
Large crowds took advantage of the free permission accorded yesterday to
pass through the gates of Paris, and to-day the streets are filled to
overflowing with sightseers examining the ruins and other traces of the
siege. Many foreigners have already arrived, some for pleasure, some to
recommence business operations.
Arrests are still numerous of men and women, many of the arrested
apparently belonging to the respectable classes.
It has been proposed to set on foot throughout Europe a subscription to
restore the public buildings destroyed in Paris.
It is hoped that in two days the telegraphs will again be open to the
public. The post is already working well, thanks to the exertions of M.
Rampont.
All impediments in the way of entering and leaving Paris have been
removed, as I said; persons are only required to show their passports
when demanded by the police.
The military authorities have entertained favourably the requests of
theatrical managers for permission to re-open the theatres, but the
re-opening of the _cafés chantants_ has not yet been authorized.
Aubry, agent of the International Society and treasurer of the Commune,
was arrested yesterday.
It is said that, until further orders, no one is to be allowed to pass
the gates of Paris after 9 p.m. Patrols of cavalry traverse Paris and
the environs all night.
The _Figaro_ calculates the number of insurgents still at large in Paris
who have escaped military justice at 50,000 men. These persons will, it
thinks, always constitute a source of danger, and will only await a
favourable opportunity for exciting disturbances.
JUNE 6th.
A gang of prisoners passing down the Boulevard is a never ending source
of interest, and with some reason, for the prisoners now are not the
scum of Belleville and La Villette, swept at haphazard out of their
lanes and alleys, but the more prominent men, who have been lying hid
ever since, and are being discovered or denounced singly, so that there
are seldom more than two or three in a batch, and these are generally
persons of note. I saw two parties yesterday, one containing three men
and two women, all of quite a different type from the ragged hangdog
squads that used to be driven past between lines of cavalry. These were
well-dressed, gentlemanlike men and modest, respectable-looking women
who seemed by no means either afraid or ashamed of the position in which
they found themselves. On another occasion I observed two men, also of
the _bourgeoisie_ class, both of them very superior to usual prisoners.
One of them had his hands tied firmly behind his back. They both boldly
looked the crowd that followed them in the face; but the arrest which
caused the greatest interest was that of M. Paschal Grousset, who was
caught hidden and disguised as a woman at 39 Rue Condorcet, and who was
honoured with a conveyance and a cavalry escort to protect him from the
crowd. M. Pyat still succeeds in evading the authorities, and there is
even some doubt whether the numerous persons who went to see the body of
M. Deslescluze when it was exposed in the church of St. Elizabeth, and
who declared that they recognized it, were not the victims of a
delusion, and whether that gentleman may not still turn up like Sir
Roger Tichborne to discomfit the minds of his old friends, who now seem
uncertain whether they know him or not.
Monday being the first day when the gates of Paris, as well as the
railway stations, were open to the public, there was an influx and
efflux on a large scale, the people who swarmed in were people from a
distance who had taken refuge in the country, and were returning with
their baggage to their homes. Those who swarmed out were for the most
part sightseers whom events have kept close prisoners in Paris for the
last two months, and who are now flocking to the outside of the
_enceinte_ to visit their former haunts of pleasure in the immediate
vicinity, which are now desolate wastes, and to compare the condition of
the suburbs as damaged by the Germans with their present condition as
destroyed by themselves. An examination for arms and weapons to be
extended to every room in Paris is now being made, and the military
authorities continue their active _perquisitions_ for men and documents
with tolerable success. Upon two successive occasions, however, shots
have been fired within the last few days from a window in a house in the
Place Beauveau upon officers, fortunately without injury, but the
would-be murderer has not been found.
JUNE 7th.
Ten thousand incendiary bombs have been discovered in the catacombs. As
23,000 were manufactured by the Commune according to documents found on
prisoners, and of these not many were used, a large number are believed
to be still somewhere concealed.
Nearly all the missing pieces of the Colonne Vendôme have been
recovered. It is thought the Column can be exactly restored.
A strange proposal is made to preserve untouched the ruins of the Hôtel
de Ville. It is seriously discussed, and finds many advocates.
On the extradition question the more moderate journals suggest that
Government should content itself with demanding the surrender of those
Insurgents against whom it can make out some case of ordinary
non-political crime.
Crowds still flock from all parts into Paris.
Perfect tranquility prevails, though numerous arrests continue to be
made.
It is believed that the prisoners will be classified in three
categories, the first consisting of persons against whom only minor
charges are preferred, the second of those charged with offences which
entail transportation, the third of criminals of the worst class, some
of them being accused of offences which may be punished by death.
The funeral of the Archbishop of Paris and the other distinguished
hostages assassinated by the Commune is expected to be a very imposing
ceremony. A Commission of 50 Deputies will officially represent the
Assembly on the occasion, but a very much larger number of Deputies will
attend. The chief of the Executive power and the other members of the
Government will be present at Notre-Dame, where the funeral service
will be celebrated to morrow morning at 11 o'clock.
The body of the Archbishop will be removed from the Archiepiscopal
Palace, in the Rue de Grenelle, at 10 o'clock. It will be carried on a
bed of state by seven Deacons. The seven Suffragan Bishops of the
Archdiocese of Paris will act as pall bearers.
Monseigneur Darboy will be interred in the tomb of the Archbishops of
Paris in the vaults of the Cathedral See.
The Abbé Duguerry will be burried in the vaults of the Madeleine, and
the other hostages in the Cemetery of Père-Lachaise.
The cause of the delay in opening the courts-martial at Versailles to
try the Communist prisoners is that a supplementary act of indictment
has been rendered necessary by the discovery of important documents on
several of the recently-arrested members of the Commune.
JUNE 8th AND 9th.
The inhabitants of the second Arrondissement have been warned that
everybody who does not give up his firearms may be tried before a court
martial.
An Anglo-Indian ex-officer is said to be gravely compromised in the
Insurrection, but the number of British subjects engaged in it appears
to have been ludicrously exaggerated:--not 20 have had cases made out
against them.
The number of Communists belonging to the International and similar
societies is estimated at 120,000. Arrests are still numerous. One of
the men who shot the Archbishop, and for whom the police had long looked
in vain, was yesterday arrested at his funeral.
The _Journal officiel_ publishes a circular note of M. Jules Favre,
dated the 6th inst., in reference to the causes of the Parisian
Insurrection. The principal of these is the collecting together of
300,000 workmen who were brought to Paris by the works executed under
the Empire, and who were led away by Jacobin agitators, and who were
vanquished on the 31st of October.
After that came the action of the International Society composed of
working men, the doctrines and dangers of which are explained in the
circular.
JUNE 10th.
It is calculated that 70,000 travellers entered Paris between Saturday
and Tuesday by the Northern line alone. Many had to travel in luggage
vans. Paris, notwithstanding, does not appear full. Most of the
visitors make a very short stay. The dull condition of trade is loudly
complained of.
The idea of burning the corpses which have not been properly buried has
been abandoned; it is proposed to exhume all those buried in the Parc
des Monceaux, the Jardin du Luxembourg, and other temporary burial
places, and to transfer them to a new cemetery beyond Fort Vanves.
One hundred and fifty pretended firemen were executed yesterday at
Versailles.