A journal of the Belgian bourgeoisie, the Etoile, one of the most violent against the Commune, allowed this avowal to escape it:—
"The majority have met death like the Arabs after battle, with indifference, with contempt, without hatred, without anger, without insult to their executioners.
"All the soldiers who took part in these executions, and whom I have questioned, have been unanimous in their accounts.
"One of them said to me, 'We shot about forty of these canailles at Passy. They all died like soldiers. Some crossed their arms, and stood head erect. Others opened their tunics and cried to us 'Fire! we are not afraid of death.'
"Not one of those whom we have shot trembled. I especially remember an artillerist, who by himself did us more harm than a whole battalion. He was alone serving a piece of cannon. During three-quarters of an hour he peppered us with grape shot, and he killed and wounded not a few of my comrades. At last he was overwhelmed. We had turned his barricade.
"I still see him. He was a strongly-built man. He was bathed in perspiration from the service he had done during three-quarters of an hour. 'Your turn now,' said he to us. 'I have merited shooting, but I shall die game.'
"Another soldier of General Clinchant's corps told me how his company had led to the ramparts eighty-four insurgents taken bearing arms.
"They all placed themselves in a line, he said to me, as if they were going to exercise. Not one faltered. One of them who had a handsome face, wore trousers in fine cloth tucked into his boots, and a Zouave's belt round his waist, said to us calmly, 'Try to aim at my chest; be careful not to touch my head.' We all fired, but the poor fellow had half of his head carried away."
A functionary of Versailles made me the following recital:—
"During the day, Sunday, I made an excursion to Paris. I went by the Théâtre du Châtelet towards the smoking ruins of the Hôtel-de-Ville, when I was surrounded and carried along by the stream of a crowd which was following a convoy of prisoners.