Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

for their recognized defeat. At six o'clock | same blasphemous formula; and the in the evening an order came to the Di- Curé of the Madeleine, whose eighty rector of La Roquette for the instant ex- years of blameless life might well have ecution of the whole body of prisoners who had been brought from Mazas, to the number of sixty.

Once more the Director remonstrated, not as on the previous day, on the ground of informality, but because of the wholesale nature of the intended massacre. Messages on this subject went to and fro between the prison and the mairie of the eleventh arrondissement, where the leading Communists were assembled, for the space of about an hour, and, finally, a compromise was effected - they agreed only to decimate the sixty condemned, on condition that they themselves chose the victims. It was known to all concerned that their rancour was chiefly directed against the priests-"those men who," as one of the sufferers remarked, "had inconvenienced this wicked world for eighteen hundred years"-but there were many of that detested class at La Roquette, and to the last moment none knew who would be chosen for death.

46

gained him the right to pass by gentler means to the grave which must in any case have been so near, responded to the summons. "Léon Ducoudray, of the Company of Jesus," a tall, fine-looking man passed from his cell, and stood looking with a smile of quiet contempt on his murderers. He had been rector of the School of St. Geneviève, and had done much for the cause of education.

"Alexis Clerc, of the same Company." It was with a light step and a bright look of joy that this priest answered the ominous call, for his one ambition all his life had been to attain to the glory of martyrdom, and he saw that the consummation of his longing desires was close at hand.

"Michel Allard, ambulance chaplain," and a gentle, kindly-looking man stepped forward, whose last days had been spent in assuaging the pangs of those who were yet to suffer less than himself.

"Louis Bonjean, Président de la Cour de Cassation." Some private spite probaAt seven o'clock the executioners ar- bly dictated the addition of this layman rived, headed by Ferré, Lolive, and to the list of the condemned, but with his others-it was a confused assemblage name the fatal number was filled up, and of National Guards, Garibaldians, and the order was given to the prisoners to vengeurs de la République," and they march at once to execution. They were left were accompanied by women of the pé-free to walk side by side as they pleased troleuse stamp, and by numbers of the on that last path of pain, and with touchgamins de Paris," who were, throughout the whole reign of the Commune, more than any others absolutely insatiable for blood.

[ocr errors]

Up the prison stairs they swarmed, this dreadful mob, shouting threats and curses, with every opprobrious epithet they could apply to the prisoners, and especially to the Archbishop. Ferré and the other ringleaders advanced into the corridor and the gardien showed me where they stood in the vacant space on the left side facing the row of cells which contained their victims. Then in a loud voice, the list of doomed men was read out:

ing consideration the Archbishop chose Monsieur Bonjean as his companion, claiming from him the support his own physical weakness so sorely needed, while he strengthened the soul of the new-made convert with noble words of faith and courage. The Curé of the Madeleine followed, supported on either side by the Fathers Ducoudray and Clerc, for he alone of the six doomed men showed any sign of fear; but it was a mere passing tremor, pardonable, indeed, in one so aged and feeble. Monsieur Allard came next, walking alone, and reciting prayers in a low voice.

Determined as the Communists were "Georges Darboy-se disant servi- to consummate their cruel deed, they teur d'un nommé Dieu "-and the door were, it seemed, not only ashamed of it, of the cell I had just seen was thrown but afraid of the consequences, for they open, and the Archbishop of Paris came did not dare to take their victims out by out, wearing the purple soutane which the principal entrance, but made them go now, stained with blood and riddled with down a small turning staircase in one of balls, is preserved in the Cathedral of the side turrets.

Notre Dame. He walked forward, stood Père Ducoudray had his breviary in before his executioners, and meekly his hand, and as they passed through a bowed his head in silence, as the sen- room where the concierge was standing, tence of death was read to him. "Gas- he gave it to him in order that it might pard Deguerry" was next called, with the 'not fall into the hands of any of the pro

fane rabble around, and told him to keep | window, and, smiling, waved his hand to it for himself. The porter took it, glad him, like one who sends back a gay fareto have some remembrance of so good a well to holiday friends upon the shore, man, but the captain of the firing party when he is launching out on a summer had seen what had passed, and with an sea, to take a voyage of pleasure-and oath he snatched the book from the man's how, a little farther on, the Archbishop hand and flung it on the fire. When they had cast such a gentle look of pity on a had all gone out, the concierge rescued man who was uttering blasphemies in his it from the flames, in which it was only ear, that it awoke enough compunction partly consumed, and I saw it, where it is in the heart of the leading Communist still religiously preserved in the house of to make him say with sternness to the the Rue de Sèvres, with its half-burned rabble, “We are here to shoot these men, pages and scorched binding. and not to insult them," - and how at The condemned were led down three last, as they came in sight of the place of or four steps into the first of the two nar-execution, Père Clerc tore open his sourow courtyards which, as I said, surround tane, that his generous heart might rethree sides of the prison, and it was ori-ceive uncovered the fiery messengers ginally intended that they should on this which brought him the martyr's death he spot suffer death. had wooed so long and won at last.

While the firing-party made ready, the Archbishop placed himself on the lowest step, in order to say a few words of pity and pardon to his executioners. As the gardien showed me with much minute detail where and how Monseigneur stood, I inquired if it was true that two of his assassins had knelt at his feet to ask his blessing?

"Yes," he answered, "it was perfectly true, but they were not allowed to remain many instants on their knees. Monsiegneur had time to say that he forgave them, but not to bless them, as he wished, before with blows and threats they were made to start to their feet, and the Archbishop was ordered to go and place himself against the wall, that he might die."

But at the moment when the condemned were about to range themselves in line, the Communists perceived that they were just below the windows of the Infirmary, and that the sick prisoners were looking out upon the scene. Even before the eyes of these poor convicts they did not dare to complete their deed of darkness, and the prisoners were ordered to retrace their steps down the long courtyard that they might be taken into the outer one, and there at last meet their fate.

They had to pass through a gate leading to the outer enclosure, and here there was another painful delay, while the key was procured from the interior of the prison, to unlock it; and as soon as we, too, had crossed this barrier, and come to the entrance of the second chemin de ronde on the right side, we knew that the last scene of the tragedy was before us, for on the dark stone wall at the end there stood out in strong relief a white marble slab surmounted by a cross.

-

We walked towards it over the stones which paved the centre, while against the wall on either side were borders of flowers which had evidently been cultivated with great care. I asked the gardien if these blooming plants had been growing there when the victims and their executioners passed along. "No," he said, "there was nothing of what you see now. I planted these myself afterwards, and I tend them daily it is a little mark of honour to this holy place." And holy, in truth, it seemed, for it was like walking up the nave of a cathedral towards an altar of sacrifice as we advanced nearer and nearer to the goal. When we were within about twenty paces of the end, the gardien put his hand on my arm and stopped me, pointing downwards. I saw at my feet a stone gutter which — how or I could measure what a long weary why I knew not- was stained dark and way they had thus to go, in those awful red. "Here the firing-party took up their moments, when they had believed the position," he said; "you see how close bitterness of death was almost already they were to the victims." He went a past; for we walked slowly down the stone-paved path they trod, while the gardien detailed to me every little incident of the mournful journey-how on one spot Père Ducoudray saw a prisoner, whom he knew well, making signs of passionate anguish at his fate, from an upper

[ocr errors]

little aside, and placing himself against the angle of the prison wall, "Here Ferré stood," he continued, "as with a loud voice he gave the order to the National Guards to fire." Finally the gardien walked a few steps farther on, and taking off his hat, he held it in his hand, and

[ocr errors]

made the sign of the cross, while he said, [ecutioners; as he did so, Lolive, who "And here" Then he was silent, stood with the firing-party, though not and there was no need that he should fin- one of the appointed assassins, exclaimish his sentence; the gentleman who was ed, "That is your benediction, is it? then with me uncovered also, and not a word here is mine! and fired his revolver was spoken by any of us for some minutes. straight at the old man's heart. Then What we saw was this a very high wall came the volley, twice repeated. The of dark stone which, at a distance of about two Jesuit priests were the first to fall. five feet from the ground, was deeply Monsieur Deguerry sunk on his knees, marked with the traces of balls which and from thence lifeless to the. ground. must have struck it in vast numbers with- Monsieur Allard did the same, but supin the space of a few yards from right to ported himself in a kneeling position left, and in the centre of the portion thus against the wall for an instant before he indelibly scored was the white marble slab expired. Monsieur Bonjean had a mowe had seen from the other end. I could ment of terrible convulsion, which left now read the inscription engraved upon him a distorted heap on the earth; the it, which was as follows: Archbishop was the last to remain upright. I asked the gardien if he had lingered at all in his agony, and he answered, "Not an instant-he was already dead when he fell- -as they all were." Requiescant in pace!

Respect à ce lieu,

Témoin de la mort des nobles et saintes victimes

du xxiv. Mai, MDCCCLXXI. Monseigneur Darboy, Georges, Archevêque de Paris.

Monsieur Bonjean, Louis, Président de la
Cour de Cassation.
Monsieur Deguerry, Gaspard, Curé de la
Madeleine.

[blocks in formation]

When we had stood some time in the midst of the peculiar stillness which seemed all around this solemn place, the gardien gave me a few details of the final moments. He said that the condemned men were placed in a line with their backs to the wall where the bullet marks now were: Monsieur Bonjean stood first on the right, Père Clerc next to him, Monsieur Deguerry followed, on whose other side was Père Ducoudray, then the Archbishop, and, last, Monsieur Allard. At the moment when Ferré gave the order to fire, Monseigneur raised his right hand, in order with his last breath to give the blessing to his ex

In the dead of night the six mangled bodies were thrown upon a hurdle and conveyed to the cemetery of Père la Chaise, where they arrived at three in the morning; and there, without coffins, or ceremony of any kind, they were thrown one on the top of another into a trench which had been opened at the south-east angle of the burial-place, close to the wall. There they were found, four days later, by the troops of Versailles when they came to occupy the cemetery, and they at once removed the bodies. Monseigneur Darboy and Monsieur Deguerry were taken with a guard of honour to the Archevêché in the Rue de Grenelle, in order to be buried at Notre Dame; the two Jesuit priests were sent to their own home, Rue de Sèvres; and Monsieur Bonjean and Monsieur Allard were left in the chapel of Père la Chaise.

Lolive, the Communist, to whose name is attached so terrible a memory, was still alive in the prison of Versailles at the moment when I stood on the spot where he uttered that last cruel insult to the defenceless Archbishop; but only a few days later, on the 18th of last September, he expiated his crime at the butts of Satory, and drank of that same bitter cup of death which he had held so roughly to those aged lips.

There was nothing to detain us any longer amid those mournful scenes: as we turned to go away, the gardien gathered a little sprig of heliotrope and some pansies from the spot where the Archbishop died, and gave them to me; and when I thanked him for the minuteness of detail by which he had enabled me to

[ocr errors]

realize so vividly the whole great tragedy, | great comfort to have about one; but she he answered, Madame, I have shown has a very narrow, old-fashioned way of you everything I possibly could, for I looking at things; and why should I take honour those who know how to revere up her superstitions, and act upon them?' the memory of our murdered father." He took leave of us, and walked away. Then we went back the long distance to the gate, receiving silent salutations from the Director, the turnkey with whom I had first conversed, and the concierge-none of whom seemed to wish to hold any communication with us after we had been on that sad spot. One after another the great doors closed behind us, and we drove away. In another moment the dark frowning walls of La Roquette disappeared from our sight, and we went on into the gay bright world of Paris where still the sun was shining on the broad Boulevards, and merry children were playing in the gardens, and songs and laughter filled the air.

F. M. F. SKENE.

From The Graphic.

INNOCENT:

A TALE OF MODERN LIFE.

[ocr errors]

This speech was received with so much applause by her daughter, that Mrs. Eastwood immediately plunged into all the preparations which she had checked the day before; and the ladies had a shopping expedition that very morning, and bought a great many things they had not thought of to make the room pretty. When people have "taste" and set their hearts upon making a room pretty, the operation is apt to become rather an expensive one; but this I must say, that mother and daughter most thoroughly enjoyed the work, and got at least value for their money in the pleasure it gave them. You will say that this was done more with the view of pleasing themselves than of showing regard to the poor little orphan who was to profit by all the luxuries provided; but human nature, so far as I know it, is a very complicated business, and has few impulses which are perfectly single and unmixed in their motives. They cudgelled their brains to think what she would like. They summoned up before them a picture of an art-loving, beau

BY MRS. OLIPHANT, AUTHOR OF SALEM CHAPEL," ty-mad, Italian-born girl, unable to live

99 66

"THE MINISTER'S WIFE,' SQUIRE ARDEN,' ETC.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY.

without pictures and brightness. They went and roamed through all the Arundel Society collections to look for something from Pisa that would remind her of her THIS mysterious hint did not dwell upon home. They sacrificed a Raphael-print Ellinor's mind as it might have done in which had been hung in Mrs. Eastwood's the mind of a young person less occupied. own room, to her supposed necessities. I am afraid she was of a superficial way of Nelly made a careful selection of several thinking at this period of her existence, morceaux of china, such as went to her and rather apt to believe that people who own heart, to decorate the mantelshelf. made themselves unpleasant, or suggested I don't deny they were like two overgrown uncomfortable mysteries were "in a bad schoolgirls over a bigger kind of doll's humor," or "put out about something; "house; but if you can be hard upon them which indeed is a very excellent and safe explanation of many of the unpleasant speeches we make to each other, but yet not always to be depended upon. Mrs. Eastwood was "put out," for the rest of the day, and would give no heed to any of Nelly's preparations; but, like the lighthearted soul she was, had thrown off the yoke by next morning. "Why should I take up Alice's opinions?" she said half to herself.

"Why, indeed?" cried Nelly, eager to assist in the emancipation.

"Alice is a good servant," Mrs. Eastwood continued; "most trustworthy, and as fond of you all as if you were her own "(Sometimes she takes an odd way of showing it," interpolated Nelly), "and a

for this admixture, I confess I cannot. When the room was finished, they went and looked at it three or four times in a day admiring it. They did not know anything about the future inmate, what sort of soul it might be who was coming to share their nest, to be received into their most intimate companionship. They decked the room according to a preconceived impression of her character; and then they drew another more definite sketch of her character, in accordance with the room. Thus they created their Innocent, these two women; and how far she resembled the real Innocent the reader will shortly see.

Their life, however, in the meantime was not all engrossed in this occupation.

The Eastwoods were a popular family. They "went out a good deal, even in the dead season of the year, when fashion is not, and nobody, so to speak, is in town. There are a very tolerable amount of people in town even in November and December. There are all the law people of every degree; there are all the people in public offices, especially those who are married. Among these two classes there are, the reader will perhaps not be surprised to hear, many, very many, excellent, highly-bred, well-connected persons who actually live in London. I am aware that in fashionable literature this fact is scarcely admitted, and everybody who is anybody is believed to visit town only during the season. But the great majority of the English nation consists of people who work more or less for their living, and of these a large number are always in London. The society of the Eastwoods consisted of this class. To be sure, Nelly had appeared at Lady Altamont's ball, in the very best of society, the year she came out; and invitations did still arrive now and then during the season from that supernal sphere. But these occasional flights into the higher heavens did not interfere with the natural society which surrounded the Eastwoods for at least nine months of the year, from November, say, to July. Here were Nelly's young friends, and Mrs. Eastwood's old ones; the advisers of the elder lady and the lovers of the younger. As for advisers, Mrs. Eastwood was very well off. She had a great many of them, and each fitted with his or her office. Mrs. Everard was, as it were, adviser in chief, privy councillor, keeper of the conscience, to her friend, who told her almost, if not quite, everything in which she was concerned. Under this great domestic officer there was Mr. Parchemin, once a great Chamber counsel, noted for his penetration into delicate cases of all kinds, who had retired into profound study of the art of investment, which he practised only for the benefit of his friends. He was for the Finance department. The Rector of the parish, who had once been a highly-successful master in a public school, was her general adviser in respect to "the boys," selecting "coaches" for Dick, and "keeping an eye" upon him, and "taking an interest" in Jenny during the holidays. Mrs. Eastwood's third counsellor had, I am sorry to say, interested motives. He was a certain Major Railton, in one of the Scientific Corps, and was handy man to the household-for a consideration, which

was Nelly. He had the hardest work of all the three-advice was less wanted from him than assistance. He never went so far as his club, poor man, or entered Bond Street, without a commission. He recommended tradespeople, and superintended, or at least inspected, all the repairs done on the old house, besides suggesting improvements, which had to be carried out under his eye. Lastly, there was Mrs. Eastwood's religious adviser, or rather advisers; there were two of them, and they were both ladies,— one, a sister belonging to one of the many sisterhoods now existing in the English Church; and the other an old lady from the north of Ireland, with all the Protestantism peculiar to that privileged region. With this body of defenders Mrs. Eastwood moved through life, not so heavily burdened after all as might be supposed. She had a ready way of relieving herself when she felt the yoke. Though she religiously asked their advice on all their special topics, and would even go so far as to acquiesce in their views, and thank them with tears in her eyes for being so good to her, she generally after all took her own way, which simplified matters amazingly. Since this was the case even with her privy councillor, the friend of her bosom, it is not to be wondered at if the others were used in the same way. Mr. Parchemin was the one whose advice she took most steadily, for she was deeply conscious that she knew nothing of business; and Mr. Brotherton, the clergyman, who was the patron saint of the boys, was probably the one she minded least, for an exactly opposite reason. But the curious thing was, that even in neglecting their advice, she never alienated her counsellors I suspect because our vanity is more entirely flattered by being consulted than our pride is hurt by having our counsel tacitly rejected. So much for the elder lady's share. Nelly, on her side, had a host of friends of her own age, with whom she was very popular, but no one who was exactly Pythias to her Damon, for the reason that she was old-fashioned enough to make her mother her chief companion. Let us clear the stage, however, for something more important than a female Pythias. Nelly had-who can doubt it? - or her right to admission into these pages wonld have been very slight, a lover for whom the trumpets are now preparing to sound.

Let us pause, however, for one moment to note a fact which is certainly curious. We all know the statistics that prove be

« VorigeDoorgaan »