Mr. Washburne to Mr. Fish
Sir: My narration of the prodigious events which have been transpiring in Paris since Sunday last closed at noon of yesterday. As it was impossible to reach those parts of the city in which the fighting was going on, I only knew that the contest was raging with unparalleled fury in the central portion of it. At half past 5 or 6 o’clock of yesterday it was evident that an immense fire had broken out at the chancellerie of the legion of honor. Soon we saw the smoke arising in other parts of the city, showing but too plainly that the terrible threats of the commune of a general conflagration had commenced to be carried out. I was at the headquarters of Marshal McMahon, at Passy, at about 9 o’clock in the evening, for the purpose of soliciting the sending of troops at the earliest moment for the release of the Archbishop of Paris and other hostages in the prison of Mazas, and there I was told by an officer of the staff that the palace of the Tuileries was on fire. On my return I could discover nothing, and I hoped that he had been mistaken. At 1 o’clock this morning I was awakened by a friend, who told me that the palace was all in flames. I hurried to a position from which I had a full and complete view of the fire. It was a starlight night, calm and beautiful. An insurgent battery, which had been for twenty-four hours shelling our part of the town, was still sending its bombs into the immediate neighborhood of the legation every fifteen minutes. The roar [Page 348] of other camion, the “crépitement” of the mitrailleuses and the sharp rattling of the chassepots fell upon the still of the night. The lurid flames rising from the burning palace lighted up half the heavens, and the whole scene was the most terrible I had ever witnessed. To the fire of the Tuileries were added other conflagrations, the ministry of finance, the buildings of the Rue Royal, and other fires which seemed just started. At one time it appeared to those of us who were watching the progress of the conflagration that the “Hospital des Invalides” was certainly on fire, but as the night wore on, daylight disclosed its gilded dome intact, and we discovered, to our great gratification, the fire was a short distance beyond in the same direction. At 5 o’clock this morning I sent a messenger to Versailles with a telegraphic dispatch for you in regard to what had taken place. Coming to the legation at 9 o’clock, I heard that the Versailles troops had captured the strong positions at the Place de la Concorde and the Place Vendome. I at once took my carriage and proceeded in that direction, passing down the Boulevard Haussman to the Place St Augustin, and the Caserne Pepiniere. The insurgents had occupied the Caserne, and were driven out after a fight of about two hours, but it was at the foot of the Boulevard Malesherbe, behind the Madeline, and at the junction of several streets, that the insurgents had strong barricades; in fact, the key of their position was there, for if the Versailles troops could once pass that point they could easily take the great barricades in the Rue Royale, the Rue de Rivoli, and the Place Vendome, in the reverse, and here the most desperate fighting took place for a period of nearly thirty-six hours. The neighborhood presented a most dreadful appearance this morning. The sidewalks of the splendid Boulevard Malesherbe were filled with horses, baggage-wagons, and artillery carriages. The houses had been more or less torn with shot and shell; the trees were all cut to pieces by the fire of the artillery and musketry, and their branches filled the street. A dead national guard was lying in an excavation for a cellar near by. In a small open space in the next street was the blood of two soldiers of the line, who had been summarily shot as deserters. Proceeding further, I reached the front of the church of the Madeline, at the head of the Rue Royale, and many of the buildings of that great thoroughfare were in flames, and others seemed literally to have been torn in pieces by the fire of the cannon and musketry. Going further up the Boulevard Capucines, I found many of the buildings completely riddled, and upon the sidewalk was a dead national guard, and in a side street, a short distance from there, yet another dead body of the insurgent guard, people passing by and looking on them with apparent satisfaction. I went to the Place Vendome, which had been evacuated during the night, and there for the first time saw the great column lying in the position in which it had fallen. The insurgents had not time to remove the bronze, which is now to be made use of in the speedy restoration of the column; the national assembly having decreed that it shall at once be restored. The Place de la Concorde was evacuated at the same time, the insurgents retreating in the direction of the Hotel de Ville and up the rue Lafayette. Prom the Place Vendome I went to the me de Rivoli, and proceeded cautiously toward the Tuileries, under the arcade. The Tuileries build-building was still burning, and the flames were bursting out in apart of the building where they had not before reached. It seemed that it would be impossible to save the Louvre, but I hear, as I write, that its preservation is secured, with all its treasures of art and its historic interest. During the entire afternoon the fires have been raging in many directions, and from the legation the sound of battle can be distinctly heard, [Page 349] but it is almost impossible to procure any reliable intelligence in regard to what is taking place. Most certainly something more definite can be ascertained in the morning.
Thursday, May 25.—When I closed my dispatch last night it was fire and battle. It is the same this morning. There were frightful burnings all the night. The great Hotel de Ville, with all its traditions and souvenirs of history, exists no longer. The Cour des Comptes, the Court of Cassation, the Prefecture of Police, and the celebrated old prison of the Conciergerie, have shared the same fate. All has been the work of organized incendiarism, and the insurrectionists have done everything in their power to destroy Paris. If the entry of the troops had been delayed much longer, they would certainly have succeeded. The commune had already made “perquisitions” for all of the petroleum in the city, and prepared petroleum-boxes and other means of firing the place. Bands of men, women, and children were organized to do this diabolical work. During the past two days immense numbers of these persons have been detected in distributing these boxes, and in every case the most summary vengeance has been indicted upon them, without regard to age, sex, or condition. An employé of this legation counted, this afternoon, on the Avenue de Autin, the dead bodies of eight children, the eldest not more than fourteen years of age, who had been seized while distributing their incendiary boxes, and shot on the spot. The state of feeling now existing in Paris is fearful beyond description. Passing events have filled the whole population opposed to the commune with horror and rage. Arrests are made by the wholesale, of the innocent as well as the guilty. Last night four Americans—two gentlemen and two ladies—innocent as yourself of all complicity with the insurrection, were seized, while dining at a restaurant, and marched through the streets to one of the military posts. They sent word to me as soon as possible of their arrest, and I lost no time in going to their relief. I addressed myself to General Donai, who, upon my statement, immediately ordered their release. He expressed much regret at what had happened; but said that, in the existing excited state of feeling, it was impossible to prevent the arrest of innocent persons; that if, unfortunately, the arrest of any other Americans occurred, they would be immediately released upon my application, unless charged with crime for which they could be justly and legally held. I went down in the city this afternoon to see for myself what was the progress of events. Very little has been done towards putting matters into shape in the parts of the city already captured from the insurgents. The barricades everywhere remain. The fire was still raging in the Rue Royale. The ministry of finance is completely consumed, with every record and paper—a loss that is utterly incalculable. The insurgents having been driven beyond the Place Bastile, I was able to go much farther than I went yesterday. I passed up the Rue de Rivoli by the smoking ruins of the Tuileries, and had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing for myself that the Louvre, with all its untold and incalculable treasures, had been preserved. As I continued up the street it seemed as if I were following in the track of an army. Reaching the Hotel de Ville, I found the neighborhood had all the appearance of an intrenched camp. Immense barricades were on every street leading into the square. But I am told that the insurgents abandoned it without a fight, finding themselves upon the point of being hemmed in. But before leaving, they applied the torch to that pile so interwoven with the history of Paris and of France, and the pride of all Frenchmen for centuries gone by. Now there was nothing but a mass of smoldering ruins. Two squares [Page 350] of magnificent buildings on the lower side of the Place de l’Hotel de Ville had also been destroyed. It was indeed a sad sight to behold. There was a regiment of the troops of the line on the quay, but scarcely another soul was to be seen in the entire neighborhood. Eight dead bodies of the insurgents, partially consumed by fire, lay on the ground right in front of what was the main entrance into the building, and presenting the most horrible appearance, and sad sights everywhere. At the Place de l’Opera, I saw some five hundred prisoners, men, women, and children, who were being driven to Versailles. There was a squad of cavalry marching in the front and in the rear of them, and foot soldiers marching on either side. I must say they were the most hideous and sinister-looking persons I ever saw in the whole course of my life. The sight of the prisoners excited the people to the highest pitch of indignation, and every opprobrious epithet was heaped upon them, and the escort alone prevented violence from being inflicted upon them on the spot. An officer told me this afternoon that the order was to shoot every man taken in arms against the government, I do not vouch for the truth of what he told me, but I do know that large numbers of the national guard and many others, caught in some criminal act, have been summarily executed. I have had great fears that the Prussian embassy might be burned. I learned to-day that suspicious persons were lurking about the premises, and I immediately addressed a note to Marshal McMahon advising him of my apprehensions, and asking him to detail a guard to protect the building. He answered me promptly that my request had been complied with. It is with no small degree of satisfaction that I am able to inform you that during all these horrible excesses in Paris for the past ten weeks no material damage has been done to the property of Americans, neither to the property of the Germans, with whose interests I still continue to be charged. Some few Americans have been arrested, but all were immediately released on my application. As I have written you before, the number of Germans and Alsatians whose release from prison I have obtained is quite large. Among the last persons to be released were eleven German nuns who had been seized at the convent of Picpus.
After being set at liberty they came to the legation in a body, to thank me for my efforts in their behalf. What I feared most was the robbery of our countrymen under the pretext of taxes. Many demands for the payment of taxes to the commune had been made upon Americans, but, as I have before advised you, I told all who consulted me on the subject not to pay, but take the chances. However, the machinery for collecting these taxes had just been got ready, and the day of the 25th instant was the time it was to be put into operation. Armed with mandates from the committee of public safety, the national guards would have gone everywhere, and demanded the payment of a certain sum as a tax upon all apartments, houses, business establishments, &c. If the amount was not paid by the proprietor, or, in his absence, his agent or concierge, the most valuable things would have been seized and carried off. You will see, therefore, that the entry of the Versailles troops on the 22d was just in time to prevent this organized pillage. The only newspaper I have been able to get since the entry of the troops is the Verite, two copies of which I send you, the last number appearing Wednesday morning, although dated to-day. No paper has appeared to-day, as far as I can learn, except a little sheet called the Constitution, which is out this evening. There is not an omnibus running in the whole city, and scarcely a cab can be found. No persons, except such as have a diplomatic character, or their bearers of dispatches, are permitted to leave Paris. I [Page 351] have not time now to speak more fully of the scenes of carnage, fire, and blood, of which Paris has been the theater for the last four days. They are without parallel in all its history. What took place on the days of July, 1830, when Charles the Tenth was overthrown; the days of February, 1848, when Louis Philippe was chased from the throne, and the subsequent days of the insurrection in June of the same year, was mere child’s play as compared with the events of the present week. The fighting has been long, desperate, and persistent. The insurrectionists have fought at every step with the fury of despair. Even as I write, at the hour of midnight, the contest is not yet ended, for I hear the booming of the cannon beyond the “Place de la Bastile.” The government troops have displayed great bravery, and have never for a moment recoiled before the formidable and deadly barricades of the insurgents. They have shown the spirit of the old French army.
Friday noon, May 26, 1871.—The fighting is still going on this forenoon in the remote parts of the city, and new fires have broken out. I have no news of the fate of the archbishop of Paris, but the general belief is that all the hostages have been shot. The Prussian embassy is all safe and intact. My messenger for London is waiting, and I must close this dispatch.
I have, &c.,