THE MASSACRE OF THE CHAMP DE MARS.
We thought but little of the danger we were running at the Champ de
Mars, and knew nothing whatever of what was going on at the Hotel
de Ville. The crowd was nothing more than an ordinary Sunday crowd.
No weapons whatever were to be seen, save the sabres hanging to the
belts of some stray National Guards, who might be taking a walk with
their wives and children. Madame Roland says, in her “Memoirs,” that
she remained there till ten o’clock.
The only extraordinary proceeding that took place was that on the
altar.
They continued to sign the petition with a vigor that promised twelve
or fifteen hundred signatures before night-fall. Generally the person
signing cried out, “Vive la nation! Down with royalty!” threw his cap
up in the air, and ceded the place to another.
Two contrary currents were established on the north, south, and east
sides of the altar of the country, between the persons ascending and
the persons descending. The height of the altar was immense—that
it is to say, about one hundred feet. At about four o’clock in the
afternoon, it presented the aspect of an enormous hive, swarming with
bees.
At a few minutes past four o’clock, we heard the drums, but paid
little attention to them, the affair of the hair-dresser and Invalid
having for some time escaped the memory of every one. In Paris, one
soon forgets the events which are of but little interest to remember.
There was simply a movement of curiosity on the altar, where two
thousand people were seated, and on the ground of the Champ de Mars,
where some ten to twelve thousand were walking.
These drums were those of a battalion of the advanced guard of the
Faubourg St. Antoine. This battalion was totally misinformed of what
was taking place in the Champ de Mars. They had received an order
from Bailly and Lafayette to fire in case of any resistance being
made, but only in case of resistance.
Before entering the Champ de Mars, the command was given to halt,
and load their guns. They thought they would have to face some fifty
thousand brigands, determined on bloodshed and pillage.
They found, on the contrary, an inoffensive population amusing itself.
The battalion halted a second time; but, as they did not find what
they were in search of, they put their guns in clusters, and sent a
few unarmed grenadiers to see what was passing on the altar of the
country. These came back, saying that they were signing a petition in
the greatest possible order, and without the slightest noise.
The people walking in the Champ de Mars did not, on their side, pay
the slightest attention to the arrival of the military from the
Faubourg St. Antoine.
But about the same time, the drums of Gros Caillon and the Cours la
Reine were heard calling to arms.
From Gros Caillon it was Lafayette, and from Cours la Reine, Bailly,
who arrived with the National and paid Guards.
Lafayette sent, in advance, an aide-de-camp and a hundred armed men,
to find out what was really passing in the Champ de Mars. But from
the group, which I have already mentioned as having been commanded by
Verriéres and Fournier, a gun-shot was seen to proceed, which wounded
the aide-de-camp of Lafayette.
The advance guard returned to Lafayette, and the aide-de-camp,
bleeding, made his report on the manner in which he was received.
To him, wounded as he was on his entry into the Champs, all the
inoffensive strollers appeared to be brigands.
Lafayette placed himself at the head of the three thousand men he
commanded, and marched on the Champ de Mars.
He found Fournier, Verriéres, and those they led, busily engaged
in raising a barricade. He marched straight up to the barricade,
and destroyed it. From under a cart, Fournier, the American, fired
through one of the wheels on Lafayette.
The gun missed fire.
Fournier, the American, was taken, and charged with revolt and
homicide.
The National Guard would have shot him on the spot, had not Lafayette
torn him from their hands, and rendered him his liberty.
The most curious of all was, that this bloody day was caused by these
two bloodthirsty men, Lafayette and Bailly.
The battalion from the Faubourg St. Antoine and Marias entered the
Champ at the same time as Lafayette, and ranged themselves behind the
altar, in front of the Military College.
Lafayette, fearing that these might sympathise with the people, sent
a detachment of the National Guard to join them.
At this moment the promenaders, and those who were signing the
petition on the altar, preoccupied, but not alarmed, at the sort of
collision which had taken place between the National Guard and the
defenders of the barricade, saw, advancing by the Bridge of Bois
(to-day the Bridge of Jéna) another body of the army, headed by the
Mayor, and over the heads of which floated the red flag.
This red flag informed us that martial law was proclaimed.
Against whom?
It could not be against those who were guilty of no wrong, and who
were simply walking by right of the petition accorded to every
citizen.
In the midst of the troop following the Mayor were to be
distinguished a company of dragoons. The dragoons were well known to
be an aristocratic regiment, being used to firing on the people. Also
a band of hair-dressers, armed to the teeth, with their hair dressed
_à l’aile de pigeon_ and clad in the height of fashion. Their clothes
were of silks and satin, and of every color in the rainbow.
They came, no doubt, to avenge the death of that unfortunate poor
fellow, Léger.
The group which had opposed the entrance of Lafayette had gone and
reformed themselves a little further off. They were joined by all the
blackguards of the quarter.
At the moment when, after a roll of drums, M. Bailly commenced his
declaration, a shower of stones fell around him. A gun was fired
behind him at the same time, and wounded a dragoon.
Bailly gave the order to fire a round of blank cartridge in the air.
The order was executed. This inoffensive discharge injured no one,
but had the effect of making Lafayette think that it was real.
The promenaders nearly all rushed towards the altar of the country,
fancying that they, as simple spectators, could not be fired upon
without there having first been a summons to disperse.
At this moment, the Champ de Mars was invaded by cavalry.
The promenaders vainly search for an issue to re-enter Paris.
At all sides, nothing but troubles present themselves to our view; at
the Military College, at Gros Caillon, at the entrance to the wood.
Almost immediately the paid guards made an offensive movement
towards the altar. Abandoning the hostile group, which continued to
shower stones on their heads, they dashed themselves distractedly
and furiously against the altar; and, without an attack, without
provocation or resistance, fired on this mass of brothers—this living
pyramid, this human beehive, of which two-thirds were composed of
defenceless women and children.
The hurricane of fire fell on this disarmed throng, who only replied
by heart-rending cries of agony. The three faces of the altar were
covered with the dead and wounded bodies of the unfortunate victims.
From the height of the pyramid where I found myself—between Robert
and his wife,—I perceived that the artillery were about to make fire
on the people with the cannon, at the risk of firing on the cavaliers
and paid guard, when Lafayette perceiving the movement, dug the spurs
into his horse, and galloped to the mouth of the cannon, where he
placed himself.
The first cry of Madame Robert was—“’Tis on the petitioners they
would fire! Let us save the petition!” Then addressing herself to me,
she said, “Help me, monsieur—help me!”
It was no longer a question of signing; every one precipitated
himself by the only side of the altar which had not been fired
upon—that is to say, the side facing the Military College, and which
was protected by the battalions of the Faubourg St. Antoine and
Marais. Both the petition and the sheets, covered with signatures,
were seen to fly before the wind.
Madame Robert took possession of the petition, whilst her husband and
I collected about a hundred sheets of signatures.
We then descended by the west side of the altar.
Around us, seven or eight persons had been killed or wounded.
A hundred and fifty, at least, fell before this first discharge.
In descending this immense staircase, I lost Robert and his wife. The
National Guards of the Faubourg St. Antoine and Marais cried, “Come
with us—we will defend you!”
I rushed to their sides; the dragoons set out in pursuit of us; but
the battalion of the Marais opened their ranks to us, and prepared to
receive them with the bayonet. An aide-de-camp came up, and ordered
this battalion to march forward, and make a junction with the other
troops. The aide-de-camp was killed. None obeyed this order but the
paid guards.
The battalion, or rather, the two battalions, of National Guards,
formed themselves into two columns, sent out scouts, so as to protect
any fugitives who might come and ask for shelter in their ranks, and
marched from the Champ de Mars, leaving this horrible butchery to be
completed without their assistance.