On the 27th of December newly unmasked batteries opened heavy fire on Avron and other places in its vicinity; shells began to fall within the enceinte of the city, and so the long-expected bombardment began. So heavy was the volume of fire on that position that during three days of its continuance it was estimated that 7,000 missiles—all of large size—fell upon it. Manfully for a time did the defenders stand their ground; very great their losses in killed and wounded when at last they were forced to abandon their forts on the north-eastern side, their wounded serving to still further crowd the overcrowded ambulances. The ultimate issue of the siege, never very doubtful to us foreigners, had now become less so than before. Men asked each other, “How is it that 600,000 Frenchmen permitted themselves to be blockaded by 200,000 Germans?” The mystery seemed to be solved by a writer[306] of that day, somewhat according to this manner: “It is confessed that the Governor (Trochu) has shown unfortunate hesitations; but to do good work the tools must be good, and in these respects he is deficient. To fight the Prussians we should have old soldiers, well disciplined and inured to war, reliable and instructed officers; not young soldiers of three months, poorly fed and sickly, and officers who have been too recently promoted to properly understand their duties.” In gloom and sadness to us the year 1870 ended.
CHAPTER XXXI
1871. JANUARY. SIEGE. BOMBARDMENT. CAPITULATION OF PARIS
Bombardment begun—Its progress and effects—“The terrible battery of Meudon”—Sundry particulars—Conditions of the besieged—A telegram—Increasing privations—Disaffection and corruption—Routine of everyday life—Our food supplies—Photographic messages—Personal circumstances—Night march—A Proclamation—Sortie on Montretout and Bugeval—Defeat—The killed and wounded—Armistice declared—Vive la Commune!—General events—At our worst—Ambulances—Ward scenes and statistics—Unexpected recognition.
Incessant firing between the enemy’s positions and outlying forts during the last night of 1870 and first day of 1871, increasing in violence as the day advanced; additional batteries unmasked on the German side, thus giving visible signs of what was to come. At 3 a.m. on the 5th, the first shell of actual bombardment fell within the city; then followed similar missiles in quick succession, chiefly falling and exploding near the Panthéon, Luxembourg, and market of Montrouge. In the course of that day a Government Proclamation was issued, the terms of which as they are transcribed seem almost childish in their simplicity: “The bombardment of Paris has commenced. The enemy, not content with firing upon our forts, hurls his projectiles upon our houses; threatens our hearths and our families. His violence will redouble the resolution of the city, which will fight and conquer. The defenders of the forts, exposed to incessant firing, lose nought of their calmness, and know well how to inflict terrible reprisals upon the assailants. The population of Paris valiantly accept this new token. The enemy hopes to intimidate it; he will only render its bound the more vigorous. It will show itself worthy of the Army of the Loire, which has caused the enemy to retire; of the Army of the North, which is marching to our relief.[307] Vive la France! Vive la République!”
Bombardment increased in violence and rapidity during the nights and days immediately following, the shells falling nearer and nearer to the centre of the city. With reports of casualties among men, women, and children, came accounts of buildings struck and penetrated by shells, including private dwellings, hospitals, ambulances, churches, and convents, all situated on the left side of the Seine. An exodus of people from the places struck was a natural result. They flocked to parts of the city situated on the right side of the river, and there, in the face of great difficulties, were provided with accommodation; food being obtained for them with even greater difficulty than accommodation. Sick and wounded had similarly to be provided for; so had the inmates of maternity establishments. Hotels, business establishments, churches, and public buildings of all sorts were rapidly transformed for the reception of the several classes alluded to; private houses belonging to persons who had quitted the beleaguered city were “requisitioned” for the same purpose, while in many instances private families gave shelter and aid to refugees from the bombarded quarters.
Then opened upon the city what speedily became known among us as “the terrible battery of Meudon,” on account of the great violence of bombardment by it; the missiles therefrom committed greater havoc than anything previously experienced, and fell nearer and nearer to the centre of Paris as “practice” went on. Day and night continuously, with varying intensity, but always greatest during the night, did the bombardment continue. Answering fire from the forts around was scarcely less actively directed upon the German positions, the incessant rolling sound of heavy guns varied by that of exploding shells, the tremor of houses so caused rendered the hours of darkness somewhat “hideous.”
So passed twelve days and nights. On the 17th of January there was a slackening of fire from the forts. Rumour in different shapes spread in regard to the cause: that to which most ready belief was given being that ammunition had begun to fail; the meaning of such a report significant. At this time certain published records appeared in which statistics of casualties purported to be given; those during the first eight days of bombardment 51 killed and 138 wounded, the damage to buildings unexpectedly small. Some of us set to work to calculate arithmetically our individual chances of being struck, and so made them out to be relatively little. Those chances would no doubt have been materially increased had the intentions assigned to the German artillery been carried out of discharging incendiary bombs upon Paris—an intention frustrated by order of the Emperor—for that dignity had recently been assumed by him.[308] Fortunately for us not more than three out of every five obuses discharged upon us exploded; whether as a result of defects in themselves or other cause did not matter to us upon whom they were directed.
It was now that the terms of a telegram said to have been sent by “King William to Queen Augusta” was everywhere exhibited in the great thoroughfares. That message intimated that “the bombardment of Paris proceeds satisfactorily, thank God.” The comments passed with reference to it were at the time distinctly expressive, and no wonder. But now, long years after the event, the question arises—Was such a telegram ever sent?