Paris at Bay. A story of the siege, etc

Front matter

PARIS AT BAY "STOP! STOP!" I CRIED, AS THE BULLETS WHIZZED TAST ME, "YOU ARE FIRING ON OUR MEN!" PARIS AT BAY A STOEY OF THE SIEGE AND THE COMMUNE BY HERBERT HAYENS Author of " Under the Lone Star", " Clevely ftihib", _x. WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY STANLEY L. WOOD LONDON BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C. GLASGOW AND DUBLIN CONTENTS. Chap. Page I. Hi \i hi ■ n In, 9 II. The Morning of Sedan, 23 III. The Wreck of an Army, 38 IV. The White Flag 53 V. Good Samaritans, 67 VI. The Empire's Pall, 82 VII. Awaiting the Foe, 97 VIII. The Fight of Chatillon, 110 IX. Paris Invested, 126 X. The Commune Lifts its Head 140 XI. A Gleam of Success 155 XII. Hero and Heroine, 168 XIII. The Last Effort, 182 XIV. Lolet Strikes a Blow, 196 XV. The Red Flag, 210 XVI. A Veteran of France, 224 XVII. A Deed of Cruelty, VI CONTENTS.

Chap. Page XVIII. The Maison Rouge, 250 XIX. A Risky Stroke, 263 XX. The Die is Cast, 277 XXI. Face to Face with Lolet, 291 XXII. Gros Jean's Promise 303 XXIII. The Versaillists Climb Over, 315 XXIV. The Maison Rouge Again, 327 XXV. The French invape England, 340 i. ILLUSTRATIONS. Page "Stop! stop!" I cried, as the bullets whizzed past me, "you are firing on our men!" . . . Frontispiece. 115 " We three together raced back over the stricken field, with the cannon thundering in our rear", ... 45 "Achille clambered up, and was in the act of springing, when the Prussians fired", 57 "Stephen dashed the revolver to the ground and struck the would-be assassin a tremendous blow", . . . 150 The Frenchmen make a last Desperate Effort to Capture the German Battery, 191 " YOU COWARDS ! " SHE CRIED, " TO SLAY A DEFENCELESS GIRL !

YOU WHO RAN FROM THE PRUSSIAN GUNS!" .... 239 "Have pity, Monsieur! Have mercy, and you shall be told all!" 298 "You will aid me, Monsieur! One of the scoundrels of Paris I It is incredible ! "

Chapter I. Hemmed In

llS§ffP was six o'clock on the morning of the last 111 Sis °^ -A-u.uust, 1^70, when I, Geoffrey | gj jgj j Townsend, nephew to the French colonel ' " ' Gustave Humbert, lay down to rest in a ruined hut overlooking the town of Bazeilles. During the previous twenty-four hours I had not closed my eyes, and even now, albeit thoroughly worn out, sleep seemed far from me. The door of the hovel had been carried away, and probably used for firewood, so that nothing prevented the entrance into the stable-like apartment of the thick white fog which enveloped the surrounding hills. I could not see beyond the open doorway — scarcely as far, — and no sound came to me from the hillside. I might have been lying in the midst of an African desert, instead of being surrounded by a vast host of armed men. Wrapping my greatcoat closely around me, I turned to the wall, and after a time slept.

The heavy mists had been rolled away by the uprising sun, when the sound of a familiar voice awakened me. Stretching my cramped limbs I rose to my feet, and perceived Achille Devine, a gallant young French officer, who was attached to the staff of General Ducrot. There was a good-humoured smile on his face as he said genially: "My dear Geoffrey, your capacity for slumber is marvellous. Perhaps it is the effect of your English blood. Did you dream that you were back in England ? You might have thought so in all seriousness had you seen the fog this morning; I imagine it could not be worse in London. But I waste time, General Ducrot wishes to see you." Outside the hut we paused to gaze for an instant upon that which had now become a bright and animated spectacle. Thousands of French soldiers in picturesque uniforms dotted the hillside: infantry of the line, Zouaves, Turcos, bodies of brilliant cuirassiers and lancers standing beside their horses, batteries of artillery, including the murderous mitrailleuse from which so much was anticipated — in short, all the ter rible paraphernalia of modern warfare.

Devine waved his hand in the direction of the Meuse, which wound its tortuous course in our front. " Messieurs les Prussiens will have a warm reception when they make up their minds to attack us," he said jauntily. " The hills of Sedan will witness an ample atonement for the disaster at Worth." I did not answer, my mind being engaged upon the fearful carnage which must inevitably accompany the life-and-death struggle of two mighty nations. The young officer rallied me gaily upon my silence. "You are dispirited, Geoffrey; our losses have dis heartened you. You are a true Briton, and like all your countrymen derive genuine pleasure from dwell ing upon the dark side of things." " Nay, Achille, that is an exaggeration. We do but look at them as they are, and accord them their true value. We do not gild a franc and call it a napoleon."

" That sounds strangely like treason, my friend. I would not advise you to repeat the saying before His Majesty." " It was an awkward simile," I admitted ; " but my thoughts were not with the Emperor." " Well, it is too late to seek another. Yonder is General Ducrot; he seems anxious." " He is watching the Bavarians, and wondering if Von der Tann intends to attack the town." " I trust he may; our men will render a good account of themselves." The general lowered his field-glass at our approach, and beckoned me a little apart from the knot of officers who stood with him on the mound. " Colonel Humbert has given me an account of your ride," he said. "You were out last night?" " From dusk until reveille, sir, by General Castel nau's orders." " Then the enemy has not posted his sentries with much care?"

" On the contrary, sir, every route is rigidly guarded. I had several narrow escapes." "In which direction did you go?" "Towards Donchery, where in the plain a division of cavalry is posted; and, as far as I could judge, two army corps are in possession of the heights." " Thank you ; that information is of importance. You gathered nothing, I presume, concerning the movements of the Crown Prince?" " No, General. His division had not come up." Writing a note on a slip of paper, he handed it to an officer, and bade him convey it to the Emperor. Then with a few gracious words he dismissed me, and I walked away. As far as could be perceived, no change had taken place in the disposition of the troops since the early morning. Occasionally the sullen roar of cannon was heard from across the river, and a huge ball would come crashing through the wall of a house, or bury itself deeply in the ground.

The beautiful gardens which surrounded the town were filled with men, awaiting with eager expectancy the beginning of the struggle which each instinctively felt could not much longer be delayed. The sun glinting between the trees shone upon pol ished helmets and glittering accoutrements; from the left came the champing of bits, and the restless pawing of impatient and fiery horses. Here and there whole battalions lay on the ground in extended lines; the men carelessly chatting, laughing, smoking deftly rolled cigarettes, but ready to spring to attention at a given signal. In the rear, the spires and turrets of Sedan peeped out from the wooded hills amidst which the city nestled, while beyond and above waved the trees of the great forests which stretched to the Belgian frontier. Behind the city walls were assembled, deep in anxious consultation, the French Emperor and his trusted generals — Marshal MacMahon, the well-tried veteran; Douay, De Genlis, and Wimpften, the last hastily sum moned from far-off Algeria.

To each and all of them it must have been apparent that the crisis in the ill fated war was at hand. Only a few weeks previously we had set out from Paris amidst the joyous acclamations and vivats of an elated people. The cries of "A Berlin! A Berlin!" had resounded on the air. We had embarked on what was believed to be a military promenade, a tour of pleasure, ending in the occupation of the Prussian capital. Thus far disaster had followed upon disaster with crushing rapidity and overwhelming force. Weissen burg, Worth, Forbach, and Gravelotte had been fought and lost; Strasburg was besieged; Marshal Bazaine with a splendid army was cooped up in Metz. We ourselves were in the gravest danger. We were a hundred and twenty thousand strong, but around us was gradually closing a ring of three hundred thousand men flushed with victory, well led, well armed, and filled with a burning desire to avenge the indig nities inflicted upon their country by the first Napoleon.

It seemed to me that we were hopelessly trapped, and that the French army occupied very much the position of a caged tiger, at liberty to move about within the precincts of its cage, but unable to pass beyond the iron bars. This gloomy reverie was broken in upon by my uncle, Colonel Humbert, who had just come out from Sedan. " They are beginning to stir down there," he said, pointing to the river. " It would not surprise me if Von der Tann is preparing to deliver an assault in force." "Are we strong enough to resist?" " I think so, unless he has twenty or thirty thousand men at his disposal. Come with me, unless you must return to the regiment; I am going down into the town." "How shall we get out of this?" I asked, as we walked along, watching the flight of the shells from the opposing batteries.

" I have not had much experience, but it appears to me that we are being hemmed in." " You are not far wrong. The Germans are drawing a circle round our lines, and when the Crown Prince arrives it will be complete." " But why are we waiting?" " Simply because we cannot move. Our only chance is to cut a way through the Bavarians and make for Montmedy, but the undertaking is too desperate for the proposal to be entertained." " Still every hour of delay makes the position more critical." " That is so; but here at least we hold a fairly strong situation, and it is possible that help may reach us either from Marshal Bazaine or from General Vinoy, the latter of whom is advancing from Paris." " There will be weeping in the gay city ere long," I said. My uncle's brow clouded, and he answered moodily : " There will be worse than weeping.

I know the Parisians well, and the overthrow of our army here will mean the downfall of the empire." He laughed a little bitterly at my look of astonishment, and resumed: " Why should you feel surprised ? It will be necessary to provide a scapegoat, and the choice will fall upon the Emperor. They will say that he has ruined the country." " But the war was a popular one!' " And would be so still were it successful. But the Parisians do not love defeat, and they have convenient memories. Ah! Von der Tann's compliments are becoming unpleasant; let us work round more to the right." Even at that time Bazeilles was a wreck. True, the majority of the houses still remained standing, but in the walls of many were great seams and gashes, mute witnesses to the accuracy of the Bavarian aim. Here and there, however, entire blocks of buildings had been literally smashed in pieces, and the debris formed improvised barricades, which were, later, to be the scene of a bitter and desperate conflict.

Having reached a spot out of the line of fire, we stopped for a while to witness the artillery duel which was now waging fiercely. The Germans, more especially, were keeping up a furious cannonade, and my uncle, rubbing his hands softly, said: "There is something behind all this, Geoffrey; Von der Tann intends making a serious movement. Take this glass — your sight is keener than mine — and sweep the ground behind the railway-bridge. Can you make out anything?" "Yes, there are several divisions; the men seem forming up in column. You can easily distinguish them." And I handed back the glass. Two or three officers now joined us, and comments were freely made concerning the Bavarian general's design. "It is not meant seriously," said one; "it is merely a strong reconnaissance." " To be converted into a real attack should a good chance offer," remarked a second.

" That would require thirty thousand men," my uncle said in a tone of decision ; " anything under that num ber is foredoomed to failure." Meanwhile the artillery fire waxed hotter and hotter, and a cry broke from us as the head of the advancing column appeared on the farther side of the bridge, and we recognized the leathern helmets and light-blue uni form of the Bavarian infantry. The men moved in perfect order, without haste or confusion, and totally undismayed by the storm of shells which flew screaming over their heads. " Our gunners are firing too high," I observed. " The affair will be settled in the gardens; let us go down." And we made our way to the lower ground. The Bavarians came gallantly on, until when almost within point-blank distance they were met by a murderous fire, which swept the front ranks out of exist ence.

From behind the walls and every other bit of cover leaped living tongues of flame, and the hills above our heads swarmed with sharpshooters, busy in the harvest of death. But the Bavarians were not easily daunted. Those now in front made no pause, while the rear pressed steadily on. One officer I noticed particularly — a tall fair man with scarred cheeks, who bore a charmed life. The bullets fell around him like hailstones, scattering death on all sides, but leaving him untouched. It was easy to see that his men loved him. Wherever he led they followed eagerly, without a thought of danger; and he took them into the very thickest of the carnage, making in a bee-line for the town itself. But the ground was so cut up, so encumbered with walled gardens and thick brushwood, so ploughed with treacherous hollows, that the Bavarians could not retain their formation.

They broke up into groups, fighting their way independently, nearer and nearer to the town. Little by little, although at a terrible loss to ( M 348 ) themselves, they pushed our men back, and had they received fresh supports the result might have been different. Just as my thoughts had taken this turn, my uncle cried excitedly: "Look, Geoffrey, — there to the left, down in the open space!" The van of the Bavarian troops had penetrated the gardens, and was engaged in desperate hand-to-hand fighting, while the remainder was steadily advancing in an unbroken column. Now at this moment appeared the glitter of steel, and from an open glade on our left hand there rode out a regiment of our cuirassiers. Instinctively we held our breath as they dashed across the intervening space. It did not appear as if they rode, but rather as if they were some huge body hurled forward by an irresistible force.

With such beautiful precision did the horses advance, that the movement of all seemed to be the action of one. Recognizing the danger, the Bavarians attempted to change front, but the time was too short. Crash went the cuirassiers into their midst, and almost before we had time to realize what had happened the huge column was broken up. The fight was by no means at an end, but its issue was assured. Sullenly, and with manifest reluctance, the defeated Bavarians fell back towards the rail way-bridge, a movement which made it necessary for the advance-guard to give up the positions it had won. The last to retire was the fighting officer whom I had previously noticed, and I must confess to a strange feeling of pleasure at seeing him still unhurt. ( M 348 ) b Our attention was now drawn to the railway-bridge, which the first of the fugitives had just gained.

"Ah!" my uncle exclaimed, as a shell burst in their midst, "this will cost them dearly; our gunners have got the range. I wonder what Von der Tann's object could have been." " At all events, this success will serve to inspirit our men," I replied, " and they are sadly in need of en couragement." "Yes; we will look upon this as a good omen for to-morrow's work. But I must return to Sedan and inform His Majesty of the action." The rout of the Bavarians was by this time com plete; the survivors had recrossed the bridge, and nothing which testified to the recent attack remained, save the bodies of the dead and wounded. Naturally the enemy suffered severely; but our losses were comparatively slight, and the spirits of the sol diers who had taken part in the engagement were raised to the highest pitch.

The victory was certainly gratifying, yet it could not exert any influence over the final struggle, to which this attack was but a pre liminary. " There will be no further fighting to-day," my uncle observed as we ascended the hill, " but I should say that the storm will burst with the dawn. By this time to-morrow many a poor fellow will have lost the number of his mess." I afterwards found that this was the generally received opinion, and there was a serious expression on the faces of the officers, which showed that they were fully alive to the threatened danger. Amongst the group with whom I stood conversing was Achille Devine, the young officer who had been sent that morning by General Ducrot to fetch me. I had met him in Paris a short time before the breaking; o out of the war, and conceived for him a feeling of friendship, which a deeper knowledge of his character only served to strengthen.

He was three or four years my senior, but he had a boyish air which made him look much younger. He was tall and rather slightly built, but possessed, notwithstanding, of great muscular power. He had dark -brown hair, which covered his head in short crisp curls; his eyes, too, were brown and womanly in their tenderness, while a vivacious smile played perpetually around his finely cut lips. Having an almost inexhaustible fund of animal spirits, he was, as a rule, the life and soul of our little set, but this evening his smiles were forced and his jests laboured. One by one our brother officers bade us adieu and retired to their tents, until we two were left alone. " We seem to have changed characters since the morning, Achille," I said laughingly. " Where have your high spirits flown ? Your features are positively clouded with melancholy; what has happened?"

He twisted a cigarette dexterously, and, lighting it, puffed a moment or two without answering. When he did speak his words surprised me. " Did you ever meet my sister Marie?" he asked. " Yes, twice," I replied, with a puzzled feeling; " once at your home in St. Cloud, and again at Paris." The answer seemed to afford him relief, and he smoked on more calmly, while I waited in expectation of hearing something further. Presently, with a wave of his hand he said: "Geof frey, mon ami, we are in a trap, and unless Vinoy or Bazaine works a miracle we shall not get out. Do you think either will be able to rise to the occasion?" And without giving me time to speak he went on: "By this time to-morrow night his Imperial Majesty will be without an army." " Nonsense ! You form but a poor estimate of your countrymen's courage."

" Oh, our men are brave enough ! you will see to morrow that they will spill their blood like water. And it is all hopeless from the start," he added mournfully. " Bonaparte himself could not have extricated his army from this position; but then he would never have been drawn into it. The fact is, Geoffrey, we are out-generalled. The Prussians have the advantage over us in everything save pluck. On their side are better leaders, better artillery, and bigger battalions. They know just what they require, and go for it. To-morrow they will mow us down like sheep. We cannot stir, hand or foot. Geoffrey, this is a lost army." I endeavoured to rally him, but without success. " Do not think that I am afraid for myself," he said; " I have an equal chance with the rest, and my luck is proverbial. Yet after all it might prove that my time has come.

If so, and you escape, will you seek out Marie, and tell her of the end? She has no one besides myself, poor child, upon whom to lean." " Does she live alone?" " With the exception of an old nurse, who cannot afford her much protection. Our father and mother have been dead for years, and the onty other member of the family is an uncle, who lives in the south — at Marseilles, I believe. You see, Marie is like my second self; we have clung to each other since we were little children, and it would go hard with her if she lost me." " You are not dead yet," I observed cheerfully; " and as far as can be seen, my chances of finding an un friendly bullet are as great as yours. Still, if matters should turn out as you fear, I will do for your sister whatever lies within my power." " That is a promise, Geoffrey!" he exclaimed.

"There is my hand upon it; always assuming, of course, that the Prussians give me the opportunity." " Oh!" he answered lightly, "one of us is certain to get away." His troubled look disappeared, and he said smilingly : " I feel like a man who has just signed his will, though to be sure the world would not judge my effects to be of much value." " Achille," I said, " do not take offence at the question, but have you been nursing some stupid presenti ment in your brain?" The young man laughed heartily. "Presentiment!" he cried; "no, I am not often troubled by rubbish of that sort. But I have taken a leaf from your book, and looked an unpleasant fact fairly in the face." "And you found the process a disagreeable one?" " So disagreeable that I am not desirous of repeating the performance. After all, a good deal of wisdom exists in that topsy-turvy proverb of yours, 'Never do to-day that which can be put off till to-morrow'.

If I had borne that in mind I should have spared myself a sleepless night." "And at the same time have told me nothing con cerning your sister." " True ! I had forgotten that. Ah ! there is Colonel Humbert coming. I will bid you good-night, or good bye! You will remember Marie?" I renewed my promise, and after a hearty hand grasp we parted. "Not gone to roost yet, Geoffrey?" said my uncle, approaching. "You will have a short night, as we shall be stirring early." " Is it so certain that the battle will take place in the morning?" 'Yes; as far as can be judged the enemy has com pleted his arrangements, and the results will soon be made clear." " You do not appear very sanguine." My uncle glanced round anxiously as if to make sure that we were quite alone; then he turned to me and said: " My boy, the campaign is virtually over.

There will doubtless be a terrible struggle, but we have not the least chance of victory." He spoke despairingly, and I knew that his heart ached, for he was deeply attached to the person of his imperial master. Presently recovering his composure, he said in an even voice: " If I fall in the forthcoming battle, go to the notary Jules Decatel in the Rue Richer; he is acquainted with my wishes, and will see that everything is properly carried out." " I hope there will be no occasion for the visit," was my reply. The colonel had been a second father to me, and my love for him was as great as if he were my real parent. "So do I," he made answer; "but the future is so uncertain that it is well to take precautions. Now, you had better turn in and make the most of the few hours left. Good-bye!" " Adieu until our next meeting!"

I said. I stood watching until his figure was swallowed up in the darkness, and then sought my tent. The ride of the previous night had warned me how desperate was our position, and the colonel's words took away the last vestige of hope. I knew my uncle well as a skilful and accomplished soldier, possessed not only of personal bravery, but of sound judgment which had often been called into service. That he should despair of breaking through the iron cordon which surrounded us, was to my mind sufficient proof of the impossibility of doing so, and convinced me that we were foredoomed to defeat. But, as young Devine remarked, my capacity for slumber was of a high order, and in spite of mental unrest and gloomy anticipations, it was not long before I fell into a sound sleep.

Chapter II. The Morning Of Sedan

THE morning of the memorable first of September found us enveloped in a thick fog which effectu ally hid the movements of the enemy from our view. For a little space there was a silence " deep as death ", a solemn, almost unnatural stillness which preceded the bursting of a mighty storm. The intense gravity of the situation so worked upon our feelings, that we moved about noiselessly, and spoke, when speech was necessary, only in subdued whispers. The men flitted to and fro like shadows, their figures indefinable in the gloom. Even the horses seemed awed by some subtle instinct, and, save for a nervous trembling, stood motionless. Nature herself appeared to wait in expectation of that which was about to happen. At that time we knew only in the most confused manner how the enemy's troops were arrayed, except that we at Bazeilles were opposed by the Bavarians under Von der Tann.

Yesterday we had beaten them handsomely, but that had been a partial and unsup ported attack, and each man felt that the renewal of the struggle would take place under very different conditions. " If one could but see through that horrid curtain of fog!" was the thought in many a man's mind, as we stood listening with strained ears for the first intimation of the coming struggle. Twice I struck a match and looked impatiently at my watch. The first time the hands pointed to half past four; the second, after an eternity of waiting, showed that another quarter of an hour had crawled by. I paid no heed to the physical discomforts of cold and fatigue, my mind was wrapped up in expectation of the signal for battle. At five o'clock precisely the first streak of daylight pierced the thick mist, and a few seconds later we were electrified by the sullen booming of distant cannon.

Von der Tann, perhaps remembering his recent repulse, had begun the fight by a cannonade. That sound, harbinger of death as it was to so many, was welcomed with a feeling of genuine relief. In an instant the apathy which pervaded our ranks was dissipated. To silence succeeded commotion. Officers woke up as if from sleep; the men found their voices; a running fire of comments passed along the lines. " The Prussians think we are asleep," laughed one ; "they are giving us a morning call. It is kind of them." "Von der Tann's supper disagreed with him," said another ; " he has not been able to rest." " Listen, our fellows are joining in; there is the growl of the mitrailleuse." " I wish this fog would roll up. It is like being in the theatre with the curtain down and the actors per forming on the other side.

Pierre, give me a light; my cigarette has gone out." " I should fancy that house property in Bazeilles would be quoted at a low figure just now, if any of you are inclined for speculation." " Not much ! I am going to invest my savings in a cafe\ I have picked out one on the Boulevard des Italiens." "Bravo, Pierre! Don't forget your old friends; we will come and drink your health." " Hark ! the artillery fire is growing brisk ; Von der Tann is impatient." " Lieutenant," exclaimed a grizzled sergeant at my side, "your hearing is keen, is not that a sound of cheering on our right?" "It is; the men are in good spirits about some thing." Nearer and nearer the cheering travelled towards us, until it was taken part in by the regiment of infantry immediately on our right, and we recognized the cry of "Le Marechal " — " Vive le Marechal!"

"Vive MacMahon!" It was indeed that celebrated general, who, on the first sounds of firing, had hurried from Sedan to place himself where danger threatened and to direct the movements of the troops. We cheered vociferously as the gallant veteran rode slowly by, for upon his skill and courage our strongest hopes were based. Very sluggishly the fog was lifting, enabling us to perceive what was going on close at hand. How the attack was opening we could not tell, as the mist still hung in a dense white curtain over the valley. Round about us the heights began to stand out more clearly, but as yet the only sign of battle was the long-distance cannonade from the Bavarians across the river, to which three of our batteries were replying. " Keep your eyes on the hills yonder, Lieutenant," said Adolphe Mignard, the weather-beaten sergeant; " Von der Tann has begun too soon, or his supports are lagging.