At the elevation of the sacred host, came the orders "Portez armes," "Presenter armes," "a genoux." Every soldier's right knee touched the floor and remained there while the muskets were held "a presenter." The solemn tones of the gong floated through the cathedral. When they ceased, the sharp order of "debout" rang out and all were on their feet in an instant. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the body was again carried out; a line was formed while the band struck up a mournful dirge, and they marched to the cemetery as escort of their lost and well loved officer.
The survivors of the company to which Paul belonged were now drafted into the regular army in the section known as "Bataillon Des Tirailleurs." Paul did not relish the change from the free and easy life of the Franc-tireurs to the strict discipline of the regular army. The company to which he was joined had two "Gatling guns" or "Mitrailleuses" as the French called them. It was drill, drill all day long and as the pay was now only six cents a day and payments only once a week, they had but little chance to play their favorite game of "Petit paquet," a game that had been more regular than prayers in the camp of the "Franc-tireurs." Having become thoroughly drilled in the use of the "Gatling gun" the company was ordered to the front. One evening a comrade said to Paul: "We will have bloody work to-morrow. General Menteuffel's army is advancing and all the out posts have been driven in." But the expected battle was never fought. That night news came that caused a heavy gloom to settle on the camp. No longer the laughing joke passed from comrade to comrade. No longer the patriotic songs were heard through the camp. Bronzed heads were bowed in sorrow and tears trickled down many a cheek. Paul anxious to know the cause of the general depression, asked an officer what was the matter and received the answer: "Paris has fallen." Soon after came the news of the armistice and that no more fighting should take place for thirty days. Notwithstanding the armistice and the conditions that neither army should move, the "Mitrailleuses" were advanced to a favorable point nearer the enemy and the heavy and constant drill resumed.
All expected that hostilities would continue at the close of the armistice. The two armies lay within plain sight of each other. Discipline was strictly enforced; several French soldiers were executed for neglect and disobedience of orders. One cold night Paul stood two hours guard over a Gatling gun that was placed in a shed with no sides and the fierce, cold wind whistled and penetrated his very bones. He was worn out with a heavy day's drill and concluded that he could watch the gun as well above in the shelter as by standing alongside. He mounted the beam and stretched himself out on a board. He knew, that it was instant death to be caught sleeping on guard, but he could not refrain from closing his eyes and was soon in a fretful slumber from which he was awakened by the crunching of the frozen snow under the feet of the advancing relief. Quick as lightning he dropped to his post and sang out the hail: "Halt, who comes?" the answer sounded, "France." On being questioned by the officer why he did not hail them sooner, according to orders, he assured him that, "the words had been frozen down his throat and he could not get them out sooner." The gay Frenchman laughed at his unique excuse and relieved him; but it was a close call for Paul. Before the armistice was ended, the news of the peace declared arrived in camp and soon after orders were given to march for Havre.
The discipline of the regulars was never enjoyed by Paul, neither was their commissary department. Horse flesh was served out three times a week. On other days they received pork and beef. Coffee, sugar, rice, bread and wine were served every second day. The two day's rations of wine never lasted over fifteen seconds. The trade in tobacco is monopolized by the French Government. Who ever bore an order from his commanding officer could receive a certain amount by simply paying for the tax stamp. On railroad trains the regulars could ride for one third and gain admission to theatres and amusement halls at about the same rate, so that the munificent salary they received of six cents per day enabled them to enjoy themselves in a very limited manner. Every barracks and military building in Havre was overflowing with soldiers; and when Paul's company arrived they could find no place to sleep. So they received a document entitled a "billet de logement" that entitled them to a bed in the house on which it was drawn. Sometimes they received an order on the houses in the poorer part of the town and again in the most aristocratic mansions. As a general rule, when a billet carried by two war-worn Franc-tireurs was presented at the door of a chateau, the proprietor would gracefully excuse himself with many suave and flattering expressions. He would present the soldiers with two francs each and request them to get a room at the hotel, at the same time expressing regret at his inability to oblige the gallant defenders of Le Belle France. His house was just then filled by the unexpected arrival of some relatives. Feigning sorrow at being deprived of the supreme honor of sleeping under his roof, the Franc-tireurs would make their adieux. As the door closed they kicked each other for joy because they had obtained what they appreciated more than a nice soft bed. They could sleep as soundly in any of the parks or on the lee side of hogsheads, or on bales of cotton on the quay, after they had enjoyed spending the proceeds of the "billet de logement." The army was now quickly disbanded and Paul found himself once more a citizen. He still retained his uniform, for without it he would have been devoid of clothing.
At this time the Communes were causing the government great trouble in Paris and regiment after regiment was being hurried thither. With one of these regiments Paul managed to reach the capital. Being left to his own resources he was greatly bewildered. The nature of the stirring and exciting scenes he little comprehended. One evening while passing along the boulevard near the Madeleine, a soldier wearing the uniform of the Foreign Legion peered into his face and eagerly inquired if he could speak United States. Paul answered, "yes." The soldier seemed delighted and said, "Have you got any money? I am from Baltimore," all in the same breath. Paul told him that he had a few francs and that he was perfectly willing to divide and invited him to take dinner.
"I will take dinner gladly with you," responded his new acquaintance, "but we had better strike some cheaper quarters than our present surroundings."
So the two turning off the boulevard, pursued their way along the narrow streets until they struck something more in keeping with their financial standing. Here they entered a modest looking cafe and ordered a ragout. While seated at the table they continued their conversation in English. The sour looking landlord after taking their order eyed them suspiciously for a few moments, while trying to understand their conversation. Rushing to the door of an adjoining room he loudly called:
"Corporal, come here. Prussians!"
The room was quickly invaded by a Corporal and one of his friends with drawn sabres in their hands. Paul and his companion, who saw that they were about to be attacked, grabbed chairs and backed into a corner, where they defended themselves against the onslaught. Paul asked them in his best French what they meant and assured them that they were not Prussians but American volunteers. On receiving this information the sabres were lowered and their assailants put them through an examination. Receiving satisfactory answers to all their questions and convinced that Paul and his friend were what they represented themselves to be, the Frenchmen gravely begged to be pardoned and warmly invited them into the adjoining room to take supper in their company. During supper Paul ascertained that their entertainers were officers in the Communes that were organizing in all parts of Paris. They were invited to join the ranks of the "liberators" as the called themselves; after the reception they had received from the gentlemen they wisely thought they had better acquiesce, so they were duly enrolled. That night they had a good lodging provided for them and were told to report at ten o'clock next morning. During the night Paul and his Baltimore friend had a long talk over the situation but they were far from satisfied. Leonard, the Baltimorean, suggested that before they took arms up against the government; they had better investigate a little further. With this intention they rose very early and started for a more respectable quarter of the city. On turning the corner they were amazed to meet the gentlemanly Corporal, who was trying the night before to slit their throats. He wanted to know where they were going. They plausibly assured him that "as they could not sleep in their lodgings on account of fleas they had decided to take a mouthful of fresh air." "Well" responded the Corporal, "you better take a mouthful of something else. Come with me and have a 'petit verre'." They accompanied him to the café and pretended to enjoy themselves, which however, they were far from doing. After some conversation the Corporal said:
"Mes enfants you must be around here at ten o'clock". They assured him that they would be on hand and to have no fear. When he had departed they quietly stepped out of the café and resumed their walk towards the Tuilleries. They wandered round and round through the narrow streets until they utterly lost their bearings. They came at last to a wide avenue in which there seemed to be great excitement. The cafés were all full of men and women, the sidewalks were thronged with a mad crowd, while cries of "Vive la Commune" were heard on all sides. Through the crowds on the sidewalks and cafés they observed many soldiers of the "Gardes Nationales" who were well under the influence of liquor. The names of "Lecompte," "Thomas" and "Darboy," Paul heard frequently, mentioned by the half drunken and excited crowd. Then a fierce cheer echoed along the street. The women of Monmartre with long ropes attached to cannons came streaming up the boulevard. It was a wild and never to be forgotten sight. Many of the women wore army coats over which their hair floated loose. While one upraised hand grasped a naked sword or sabre the other held a rope that dragged the cannon. Through such exciting scenes as these, Paul and his Baltimore friend lost all count of the hours. It was noon before they thought about their ten o'clock engagement. Even had they desired they could not have found the place owing to their bewilderment. Wandering round, they came to the boulevard near the Rue de la Paix. In this vicinity they saw the first engagement which took place between the Communists and a body of citizens called "Les Hommes d'Ordre." While the firing was going on they stepped in a door way that sheltered them from the flying bullets. Shortly afterwards they found themselves on the Rue Rivolo. Here they saw great bodies National troops. As they were marching past a large building, Paul noticed an officer whom he recognized as his former Marechal de Logis in the Franc-Tireurs. Calling to his companion he quickly entered the same building, where they were confronted by a sentinel. They were permitted to pass in, when they informed him that they wished to see the officer who had just entered, but they failed to find him. As they we about to retire they were stopped by the sentinel, who refused to permit them to leave.