From The Gentleman's Magazine. THE STORY OF THE HOSTAGES.

THE "Story of the Hostages," of their sufferings and death, is a chapter in the history of the Commune that has not yet been told. In England we have had only a few glimpses of the terrible scenes that attended the end of these noble and resigned men. The story is besides intensely dramatic; and if it shows that a picture of the Commune and its doings would not be unworthy of Mr Carlyle's Salvator Rosa-like pencil, the same reason proves abundantly that the Commune movement is barbarous and brutal enough to form a chapter in the old French Revolution of 1793. All the bloodthirsty and fiendish incidents have been faithfully reproduced, and, happily, also the heroic virtues of patience and courage by which those atrocities were encountered.

bearing, while others, again, were of a bearded, burly type, such as we sometimes find among French physicians. But there were two who had a special and direct connection with the tragedy we are about to describe-namely, Ferré and Raoul Rigault. Both these men were, curious to say, of the same type; each with a dark beard and moustache, and each wearing those French "pinch-nose" glssses, which imparted a "mince" and dandified air, in grotesque contrast to the ferocious character of their creed.

Both were very young. Ferré was but five-and-twenty, and Raoul Rigault only a little older. Again the behaviour of these men- their taste for blood, their cruelty, their cold mercilessness calls up, in quite a vivid way, that no description could have realized, the figures of the demons who figured in the great Revolution. It In many a window along the Boulevards helps us to understand the "sea-green inare to be seen little terra cotta busts, corruptible" and his quiet, refined mandone with singular spirit and skill; and ner; while his eye quested blood. Indeed, the print shop windows exhibit whole all the antics of these men of 1871 - their lines of ecclesiatical portraits, an unaccus- decrees, burnings, levelling of columns, tomed spectacle in Paris, where they and the rest of their awful deeds, all usurp the place of notorious demireps. crowded into a few weeks-reproduced These are likenesses of those who are by instinct, and without any purpose of rather melodramatically labelled "vic-imitation, the former era. But where the times;" in short, are dismal reminders of that piteous story of the innocent hostages, whose mournful fate, from the number of surrounding atrocities, has scarcely excited the sympathy and horror it merits. In the grotesque and hideous pantomime of the Commune, this episode alone has a pathetic dignity, and the figures of the innocent stand out against the flaming background of burning Paris. Their story has not yet been told consecutively, and we shall now attempt to follow it out.

likeness was carried out only too faithfully, was in the thirst for PRIESTS' BLOOD. This, indeed, seems to be a motto of all Revolution; the first attack is made on the clergy; the Jesuits and curés are driven out or slaughtered. And this is not a mere devouring of the shepherds before beginning with the sheep; but a sort of morbid fury, a grudge of years' standing. For these unhappy victims are helpless to interfere with their purposes. But this rabid phobia should surely be considered a compliment to these good men, though one paid at the expense of life itself.

It is only by turning over the newspapers, pamphlets, caricatures, and photographs of this strange era, that we can get even a conception of the extraordinary Rigault was "Delegate of Public Safestate of things that prevailed during those ty," as it was called in the pompous jarnine weeks from March the 18th to May gon of the Commune, and he soon conthe 24th. The members of the Commune trived to be appointed to the office of themselves, with their theatrical dignities Procureur or Prosecutor for the Commune, of generals, colonels, delegates, ministers and later to that of Chief of Police. With of finance, installed at the great Govern- such powers, this man took a fiendish ment Offices where they held orgies pleasure in denouncing and arresting not together with their wild, half-dressed, half- those who might be opposed to his party drilled soldiers, seem to be figures out of but those to whom he had an instinct of Callot's or Goya's pictures. Some, during dislike. In his friend Ferré he found an these days of whirl and delirium, could associate of a congenial turn of mind. not resist being photographed in their These two men must be held responsible green-room finery, in comic military for the cold-blooded murders that foldresses, and girt about with sashes. Their lowed. The eyes of both turned eagerly to faces, too, corresponded. Some had a per- the "cassocks" then walking about Paris, fect circus air, others a shaggy, sans culotte with plenty to do.

On the 7th of April, "the Hostage law" was voted, which was to the effect that every one suspected of holding relations with Versailles should be brought before a jury, and, if found guilty, detained in prison as a hostage; so that if any prisoner were put to death by the Versaillists, three of these hostages should be executed in reprisal. Fortified by this decree, they could set to work with effect; for every person who did not sympathize with them might ex officio, be suspected of holding relations with Versailles.

part or conceal himself, saying that the post of the shepherd was with his flock. The Delegate Regère, whom the writer saw at the Versailles trial defending himself with great coolness and fluency, and who affected to carry out the role of a pious man, sending his children to religious schools, actually paid him a visit with this view. This strange official followed the offices of the Church with regularity, though once in the sacrist he denounced the Archbishop as a traitor, and said he would "vote against him." The Archbishop was considered a clever man, of strong convictions. He had a fine ecclesiastical head. The hostages were all consigned to the cells of the common prisoners and treated with extraordinary rigour -the leading hostages being confined chiefly at the Mazas Prison.

Weeks passed by, and the Versailles troops were gradually drawing the circle closer and yet closer. As they found the end drawing nearer, the Communist lead

Mr. Leighton passed by the Rue St. Honoré about three or four o'clock one morning, when he noticed a group of the ill-fed and grotesquely dressed Federals standing as if waiting for some one. In a moment a door opened in another street, and a man issuing forth burried away in a very alarmed fashion. Presently the door was opened again, and two soldiers burst out in pursuit, the man was caught, dragged in, and the door shut again. This was the Abbé Deguerry, the well-known ers felt the necessity of committing their Vicar of the Madeleine, who was immensely popular and loved by both rich and poor. His very air was engaging; a fine tall handsome old man, full of activity and vigour, with a singularly open and honest face and a quick and lively expression - a fresh colour, and a cloud of wiry silver hair on each side of his head. He was eloquent and witty, was recherché in the salons of the "swell" congregation who attended his fashionable church, but was far more at home in the squalid quarters of St. Eustache, where he had formerly been vicar. His charity was unbounded; he kept nothing for himself. Finally, he had several times declined a Bishopric. Once he had been persuaded to accept that of Marseilles, but a few hours later he repented. "No," he said; "I belong to the Madeleine. I shall stay there, and die there." To have selected such a man for a victim shows not merely a fiendish hatred of such goodness, but a dull stupidity and ignorance that would make their cause for ever odious.

followers to the cause by some desperate acts which should make them feel they were cut off from all hope of mercy, and thus make them fight the more savagely. Ferré succeeded Raoul Rigault in his office of Chief of Police, the former wishing to have wider and more general scope for his work, and on this change a fresh impulse was given. The appetite for blood was yet more whetted: indeed, there can be no question but that if the Commune had had a longer respite, the old "Reign of Terror" would have fairly set in. The crusade against the "cassocks" can be followed chronologically. Their property had been systematically plundered. The Jesuits, the Missionaries of the Holy Ghost, the Dominicans, the Church of St. Sulpice and its Seminary, the "Birds' Convent, and even that church of tender and sacred memories, Notre Dame des Victories, were all invaded and pillaged. On the 10th of April, a notice posted on the Church of Montmartre spoke signifiWith this good man were also arrested cantly of the rising hostility to things the Archbishop of Paris; President Bon- sacred. It described the priests as "banjean; the Archbishop's second vicar, the dits," their churches as lairs where the Abbé Allard, who was also a member of people were "morally assassinated." As the International Society for the Relief of yet no priest's blood had been shed. But the Wounded; Father Ducoudray, Rector the warnings and menaces were so signifof the Seminary of St. Geneviève; and icant, and the silent apprehension of some Father Clerc, a Jesuit. These names are cruel work to come so strong, that the familiar to us from their unhappy noto-writer well remembers an attempt being riety; but many more-priests, monks, made in London by some English ecclesiasbankers, lawyers were seized and thrown tics, to get Lord Granville to interfere : into prison. The Archbishop had received but, naturally, without result. Nothing friendly warnings; but he refused to de- could be done. But when on the 21st of

May the gate of St. Cloud was forced by the Versaillists, and their artillery was ranged along the Trocadero heights, the last bloody act of this nightmare began, almost at once. Then the desperate men that led the Communists seemed to turn at bay, or coolly to make their preparations for turning at bay.

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pire or Versailles were to be shot. He selected three by name; but when they were brought out, one was found to be mad, and was actually wearing a straightwaistcoat. He was put aside. The second, when called for, had wit enough to conceal himself. The third was one Veysset, a gendarme officer. He was hurried An unfotunate young journalist named out, and was heard to make the faint reChaudey had been carried off it was said, monstrance "You promised to spare my to gratify the hatred of Raoul Rigault. life." The answer he received was, "All M. Louis Enault was sitting by him in the right, all right; these men have no time Siècle office, when a gigantic masquerader to lose; so get along." All through the with a vast plume of feathers, and at- scene that followed many bystanders retended by half a dozen comic guards, ar- called the figure of the Prefect of Police, rested him. He had been carried to Ste. hurrying and bustling about, conspicuous Pelagie, and on the evening of the 23rd of by "a light-coloured paletôt with a velvet May, close upon midnight, Raoul hurried collar," a little cane in his hand, and the to his cell, attended by two followers, gaudy Commune scarf about his waist. armed to the teeth. He told Chaudey he Many who did not know him at all identimust get ready for death, and on the fied him by this bizarre dress. A squad wretched prisoner remonstrating that he of men were waiting who called themhad had no trial, that it was an assassin- selves the " Avengers of Flourens" (Venation, the Communist Prosecutor burst geurs de Flourens), to whom he distributed into a gross and violent attack upon his money. a process, it seems, always gone victim, accusing him of having "fired through before bloody work began. And upon the people in his paper." A squad then the party set out for the quai, of Federals had been sent for. There was which was close by. Travellers will reno help at hand; for, either by accident call the strange mass of buildings which or design, all the regular prison officials formed the Prefecture-all caked towere absent that night. Thus the victim gether, the houses overlooking the water, was surrounded by spies and enemies. as in Holland, the tottering edifices cenEven a prisoner was allowed to look on turies old. The writer was lately looking and insult him. He was led round to a at the spot to which they dragged their retired avenue of the prison, close to the victim, and where Ferré gave the word, chapel. A lantern fixed at a corner of saying, "There's your man!" A volley the wall shed a dim light; while another was discharged, and he was then flung into was carried by one Berthier. Rigault, the water. That atrocity was followed by finding his men hesitate, drew his sword, an orgie at the Prefecture, when the Prefect and assailed then with coarse reproaches; and his band were said to have remained then gave the word. The journalist was twenty-six hours at table, which they cononly hit in the arm, but with undaunted cluded by setting fire to the place, withcourage, cried, "Vive la République." out releasing a number of malefactors Then one of the warders with two shots who were confined, and who would have stretched him on the ground; while a been burnt, but for the courageous beBrigadier Gentil, with a coarse oath, fired haviour of one of the warders. his revolver at him. The prisoner came last, and discharged his pistol into the skull of the unfortunate man. The savage execration of the victim, with the bystanders taking a share in his execution, was a fair imitation of the procedure of the old revolutions. Rigault was heard "We ought to have begun all this

to say,
long ago!"

These were the last days of the Commune, and into them were crowded all sorts of dramatic horrors. On the 24th of May, Ferré arrived at the Prefecture, accompained by Wurtz and another of his familiars. He sent for the registers, and gave out that all who had served the Em

While these things were going on, the Communists found a sort of amusement in announcing to the hostages confined in the Mazas Prison that each day was to be their last. A former police officer, named Rabut- -a class of men whom the Communists regarded with an almost demoniacal hatred had been told on the morning of the 22nd, by a friendly warder, that the Versailles troops were in the town, and that he would soon be free. The other answered, sadly, " Provided we are not assassinated in the meantime." But about eight o'clock that evening, just as he was getting into bed, the warder came to tell him that he must dress himself, and

and

get ready to be brought to another prison cell. An honest doctor, also detained at La Roquette. At this, news his heart | La Roquette, tried hard to get him placed sank, for he knew that La Roquette was in a cell close to him, where he himself the one always associated with condemned could be at hand to attend him. And he prisoners. He was brought to a dark cell pressed the Archbishop to get this change and detained there an hour, when he was made. The latter, thanking him heartily, brought to the office and confronted with said he did not wish to be separated from two delegates, who asked if his name was his friends. A young priest, De Marsay, Rabut. On being told that it was, they also confined in the prison, got him to turned to each other with sparkling eyes, accept his cell, which was No. 21, and in and said that "It was all right." He was the 4th division, having a chair and a then brought down to the court, where a table, and a glimpse of a little garden. large furniture wagon, covered with can- The same good ecclesiastic had previously vas, and open at both ends, was waiting. exchanged cells with President Bonjean, Other hostages had been also sum- who found the glare of the sun too oppresnoned, and were crowded into the wagon, sive. The Archbishop was very ill indeed. to the number of about a dozen. They M. De Marsay had some talk with both. were driven through the streets, while a The Archbishop repeated how he had crowd, half-drunk, thirsty for blood, pur- refused to fly, believing it was his duty to sued them with revilings and cries of remain. The President spoke tenderly of "Death! death!" A venerable mission- his wife. He said he had been offered ary, with a long white beard - the Abbé forty-eight hours to go and see her, givPerni -was among them, and his name ing his parole that he would return before was called third on the list. He described the hour fixed; but that, considering the the shocking and coarse insults they re- difficulties of communication and the posceived from the crowd of wretches about sibility of his being prevented carrying them, and declared that "during his five-out what he had given his honour to unand-twenty years' life spent amongst sav- dertake, he thought better to decline. ages, he had never seen anything so horri- More probably this upright man ble as the faces of the infuriated women and men who were howling for their blood." Later events show that it was only motives of policy that prevented their conductors allowing them to be torn There was something simple and noble in pieces-like the deer flung to the in this judge's character. A Senator and hounds at Fontainebleau. They arrived, Dean of the Court of Cassation, he had however, safely at the grim prison, which felt it his duty to return to the city when closed its gates on them. One of the the moment of danger came. He was actugaolers standing by witnessed their arri- ally leaving the bench when he was seized val, and heard the officer in charge say, and dragged away to prison. One of the "We are going to shoot them." The priests who was confined bore testimony gaoler made a sort of remonstrance, but to his noble demeanour under this awful was violently threatened by the officer, trial. "This magistrate, good Christian, and warned to look to himself. They and honest man, was actually the one spent that most gloomy night in their among us all who feared death the least. cells. The danger was coming terribly He it was who cheered and encouraged near, though they might bave a little hope us and strengthened us." A letter of from the news that the troops were mak- his, addressed to a young friend, has been ing way. preserved, which shows a state of mind This was on Tuesday, the twenty-third. worthy of a philosopher. "My dear child," During the greater part of the next day he said, "what I have done I would do there was a sort of unnatural calm. The again. However painful have been the police officer in the morning asked for consequences to my dear family, in the water, but received the rather ominous simple fact of doing one's duty there is an You won't want it: as you will inward satisfaction which helps us to supbe out of this to-morrow, or perhaps this port wit patience, and even with calmevening." But the prison officials were ness, the bitterest trials. I have never secretly indulgent, as far as they dared to before now so well understood the passage be so. They were allowed to see and in the Sermon on the Mount: Blessed speak to each other. The Archbishop was are they who suffer persecution for jussuffering a great deal from the long confine- tice' sake.' My dear friend, let us do our ment, and had been put into a wretched 'duty and remain cheerful, up to the foot

answer, "

judge felt that he dared not trust himself to his family and friends, and feared lest there should be a speck on the ermine he so adorned.

of the scaffold." This was no platitude. I caught up here and there from a window All his fellow-prisoners were inexpressibly or a doorway. But this was checked, as comforted by his never-failing cheerful- soon as observed, with a ferocious menace. ness, and even gaiety, to the last moment. The band in the court were heard talking But he had always been a religious man and as he lived, so he died.

together, "We are to have our fifty francs apiece" and began trying their locks. That day passed over slowly. But at But there were some symptoms of hanging night, about eight o'clock, the Missionary back from the office of actual execution; heard the clatter of arms and footsteps in some shifting it on to the others, with a the passage of the prison; and, looking "You do it,' "No; you do it." But at out, saw a band of Communist soldiers. last it was arranged, and they proceeded He presently heard one of them say, "We to load. Then Ferré, or whoever was the must finish off these Versailles bandits; " Communist delegate, was heard to address and one of the fellows answered him, them, " Citizens, you know that six of our "We'll floor them, you'll see!" He knew men are wanting. Well, we must have six what this meant, and began to prepare of these!" and, out of the list in his hand, himself for death. In a moment he heard selected six names. Then Le Français. some one open the door of the next cell, Governor of the prison (who had been six and ask the occupant, "Was he the citizen years at the galleys), led the way up to Darboy?" This was a young priest named the prisoners' corridor. The Communists Guersand, who answered "No." The Mis- followed, and were drawn up in the galsionary then heard a voice answer gently, lery; and the Hostages, as we have seen, "Here!" It was the unfortunate Arch- were called out. bishop. They next passed to M. Bonjean's cell. The prisoner was beginning to undress. He was told to come as he was, and make haste. He had time to press the hand of Abbé De Marsay, whose cell was next his; and gave him this pathetic message, "Tell my wife that I die with her memory at my heart."

What dictated the selection of these six is not known, save that five were ecclesiastics of high position. As the Archbishop passed into the corridor, he was heard to say, "The justice of the oppressor is slow in coming!" As each came out, they had to pass through the double file of Federals, who poured out on them a foul torrent of The Communists had been mustered in execration. When they got to the foot the court of the prison. They were a of the stairs leading to the court-yard, band of some forty or fifty, selected from they all met and embraced affectionately. the " Avengers of the Republic," the "for- They were allowed to exchange a few last lorn Hope of the Commune," the Las- words. Then they were loaded with incars," and the "Zouaves of the Column of sults; and some one reproached the ArchJuly," and other fantastically named corps. bishop with having done nothing for the Some were dressed up grotesquely in hats Commune. He answered that he had with red plumes, and long cloaks. All written to Versailles, and it was not his seemed to be half-drunk. Most were very fault if they had not answered him. If he young. At their head were two men; one was to die, he added, he hoped he should in a workman's blouse, with a long beard; die like an honourable man. Fresh abuse the other a member of the Commune, wear- was heaped upon him. But a man in a ing his scarf over a light paletôt, and a red blouse stepped forward, and said roughly bow edged with gold. It was not very that it was a cowardly thing to insult men clearly established whether this was Ferré, who were going to be shot; and they as the more careful and trustworthy of the should be let alone. This had some effect. witnesses would not swear to him; though, Then they moved forward in a sort of litat the close of the Communist trial, a wit-tle procession. The Archbishop went first, ness swore to his presence in rather too wholesale a fashion. But as Ferré directed the executions of a day or two before, and those of a day or two later, it seems almost certain that he was present on this occasion.

While they were in the court, various prisoners were taking hurried glances from the windows, and listening with strained ears; indeed, all this account can only be put together, literally from dramatic snatches of words, and glimpses

the Judge leaning on his arm then the Abbé Allard, his hands joined in an attitude of prayer; and then the brave and charitable old Abbé Deguerry, attended by the Jesuit Clerc, and Père Ducoudray.

They were in the open avenue, walking towards a sort of grille or iron gate to the circular avenue, which had been opened. and the Archbishop, as he passed, rested his hand on it, and turned to speak. The Abbé De Marsay, who was at one of the windows, tried hard to catch what he said;