by Michael Hill
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Adele Washburne, La Rochelle—August 1870
I was so tremendously used up last night, that I took to my bunk after dinner, but only to be constantly interrupted by people coming to see me . . . The suspense here is awful and such silence is very ominous. The crowd of Germans is increasing. The Prussian government has sent me $37,00011 to help the poor creatures out of the country. And oh! Such scenes as I am compelled to witness seeing these poor people—turned out of their lodging, no money, no bread, no friends—women weeping with little babies in their arms and nothing to eat . . . women sleeping in the streets with their little ones Oh God! How it makes my heart bleed, such desolation, such suffering, such cruelty . . . When I see all this suffering how ashamed I am that I have ever complained. I hope Grack will be here this evening as I want him . . .
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish—August 15, 1870
Since the breaking out of the war no Germans have been able to get work, and the poorer classes have already exhausted the very little they had in store. They are, therefore, today without work, without money, without credit, without friends, without bread. Pinched with hunger, terrified by threats of violence, with no means of leaving the country, they have come to me to save them. Women with little babes in their arms, and women far gone in pregnancy, bathed in tears and filled with anguish, have come to our Legation as their last hope . . . I shall do all in my power to assuage the miseries of these people whose cruel situation must challenge the profoundest sympathy of every generous heart.
With Paris in an uproar, Washburne’s wife and children grew increasingly concerned about his health and safety. Meanwhile, Gratiot—“Grack”—had joined his father in Paris.
Adele Washburne, La Rochelle, France—to Gratiot Washburne, Paris—August 19, 1870
Dear Grack:
I have just received your letter and a few lines from dear Father. I hope he is well this morning. I am constantly anxious about him. I hope you can render yourself useful to him in these awful times . . .
Much love to dear Father & take good care of him—and yourself. Persuade him to try the sweet oil cure—it works wonders in his case and tell him to keep chloroform and when his back aches saturate a piece of paper and place it over the pain. I know if he perseveres it will help him, but he must persevere . . .
Susan Adele Washburne, La Rochelle—to Elihu Washburne, Paris—August 22, 1870
Dear Papa:
. . . I shall be glad when we go back to Paris to be with dear old Papa again. Indeed I will. We all want to see you again so bad, so bad . . . I hope your back does not ache now . . . We are all pretty well now and we hope you are too. Good bye now, dear Papa, please excuse this bad writing, I have not much time.
As the course of the war turned against the French, the danger posed to Americans and German nationals in the city increased each day. By late August, Washburne and the U.S. Legation were being overwhelmed by daily requests for protection and assistance. During a period of six weeks after the outbreak of war, Washburne and the American Legation helped over 3,000 Americans leave Paris. An additional 1,000 Americans who already held U.S. State Department passports also fled Paris at this time.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—September 2, 1870
The greater part of the German population has left the city. This Legation has viséd passports and given safe-conducts for very nearly thirty-thousand persons, subjects of the North German Confederation, expelled from France. We have given rail-road tickets to the Prussian frontier for eight thousand of these people, as well as small amounts of money to a much smaller number . . . My time is now a good deal taken up in looking after Germans who have been arrested and thrown into prison. The number is very great . . .
On Saturday, August 27, Adele and the children returned briefly to Paris from La Rochelle to see Washburne, but he quickly dispatched them by train to Brussels for their safety.
A week later, with his family settled in Belgium, Washburne took a moment to write to Adele and the children about events in Paris.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Adele Washburne, Brussels—September 2, 1870
I am depressed and sad at the scenes of misery, suffering and anguish. Yesterday forenoon a poor woman came into the Legation with three children, a babe in arms, one about three and the oldest about five. When about to leave the depot the night before her husband was seized as a . . . spy—and carried off to prison. There she was left in the depot with not a cent of money . . . and there she remained all night and yesterday made her way to the Legation, bringing her children along with her. She wept as if her heart would break and the two little children joined in—the baby alone unconscious of the situation. I at once gave her money to go out and get something to eat and sent off a man to look after her husband. He was gone nearly all day and was not able to get him out. I shall try again today to get him out. In the meantime I sent the poor woman and her children to a good place to be taken care of.
The crowd to go off last night was so great that I went to the depot myself. There were at least two thousand persons to whom we had given them cards entitling them to tickets and such a mob and . . . pulling . . . squeezing, yelling and swearing you never heard. It was impossible for the railroad to send them off and about 500 were left. They broke down the railing and one of my men was nearly squeezed to death. I did not get away from there until midnight . . .
The next day, reports reached Paris of another French defeat and the capture of the Emperor at Sedan. It was devastating news. “A great misfortune has fallen upon the country,” reported the Paris newspaper Galignani’s Messenger.12 “After a heroic struggle, lasting three days, sustained by the army of Marshal de MacMahon, against 30,000 troops of the enemy, 40,000 soldiers have been made prisoner . . .”
The people of Paris were “alarmed, discouraged, maddened,” wrote Washburne. “The startling news had fallen like a thunderbolt over all Paris. The Boulevards were thronged by masses of excited men, filled with rage and indignation.” With this latest defeat, Washburne saw the French government “drifting to a crisis.” In a matter of days, the government would fall, the Empress would flee Paris in disgrace, and a provisional Republic would be proclaimed.
Diary—September 3, 1870, Saturday evening
This has been a most eventful day for Paris and for France. The absence of official dispatches put out by the French government and the news furnished by the London Times of yesterday convinced me that all was going against the French at the theater of war.13 But at three this afternoon I received a cypher dispatch from Mr. [John Lothrop] Motley14 to the effect that the London Times of this morning said that M[a]cMahon had been totally defeated yesterday between Carignan and Sedan—that the Prussians had captured the French General and staff—4,000 men, 700 horses and 150 guns—that [Marshal François-Achille] Bazaine15 had been defeated before Metz and that the Crown Prince’s army was reported to be at Sedan . . . Reports were also current that the Emperor had been taken prisoner and also that he had fled to Belgium . . . There was a large crowd in front of the Palais Bourbon and a great many people inside the fence surrounding the Corps Législatif. But it was a sober crowd. The truth, so long concealed by the French press, had at length broken upon Paris in all its terrible reality and the people seemed thoroughly stupefied. There was no demonstration and no loud talk. The effect was sad to the last degree. What may yet come from this revolutionary population no one can tell.
Gratiot has just come from the prison La Roquette,16 and says there are some seven hundred prisoners confined there, mostly Germans—that they are so crowded that it is impossible for any of them to lie down, but that they all have to stand up. I am going to see the Minister of the Interior tomorrow to see if he will not release the Germans en masse if I will agree to send them out of the country.
On September 4, Napoléon III’s Second Empire collapsed. Washburne was pleased, as he had g
rown to detest the Emperor’s decaying regime. At once, he cabled Secretary of State Hamilton Fish seeking permission to recognize the new provisional government. His request was granted and he immediately communicated the news to the new Minister of Foreign Affairs, Jules Favre. (Washburne described Favre as a “tall, heavy man, with rough, strong features, plainly dressed and with an immense head of hair.” Washburne knew Favre to be a “great orator” and would often seek his assistance in resolving problems during the siege.) The United States was the first foreign nation to grant recognition to the new French Republic.
Diary—September 4, 1870, Sunday morning
At half past twelve this morning, my secretary Col. [Wickham] Hoffman came to the house and awakened me up to tell me of the news—the defeat of M[a]cMahon, the capture of the Emperor &c. . . . Mr. Hoffman said there was great excitement in the street at midnight.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—September 5, 1870
Republic proclaimed . . . Paris quiet . . . The proclamation was received by every possible demonstration of enthusiasm. Lists were thrown out of the window containing the names of the members of the provisional government . . . During this time the public were occupying the Tuileries. Sixty thousand human beings had rolled toward the palace, completely leveling all obstacles; the vestibule was invaded, and in the courtyard, on the side of the Place du Carrousel, were to be seen soldiers of every arm, who, in the presence of the people, removed the cartridges from their guns, and were greeted by cries, “Long live the nation!” “Down with the Bonapartes!” “To Berlin!” &c. During all this time there was no pillage, no havoc, no destruction of property, and the crowd soon retired, leaving the palace under the protection of the National Guard17 . . . Some discussion was raised about the changing of the flag, but [Léon] Gambetta18 declared that the tri-color was the flag of 1792 and ’93, and that under it France had been and would yet be led to victory . . .
The day had been pleasant, and the night was beautiful beyond description . . . I returned to my lodgings to ponder over the events of the day to become memorable in history. In a few brief hours of a Sabbath day I had seen a dynasty fall and a republic proclaimed, and all without the shedding of one drop of blood.
Elihu Washburne—to Mr. Jules Favre, French Minister of Foreign Affairs, Paris—September 7, 1870
It affords me great pleasure to advise you that I have this morning received a telegraphic dispatch from my government instructing me to recognize the government of the national defense as the government of France . . .
Enjoying the untold and immeasurable blessings of a republican form of government for nearly a century, the people of the United States can but regard with profoundest interest the efforts of the French people, to whom they are bound by the ties of a traditional friendship, to obtain such free institutions as will secure to them and to their posterity the inalienable rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” . . .
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to his brother William Washburn—September 7, 1870
You see all that has happened here . . . I am rejoiced beyond expression at the down fall of this miserable dynasty and the establishment of the Republic . . . You never saw anything so quickly or handsomely done as this Revolution. It seems to me, even now, like a dream.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—September 9, 1870
At 2 o’clock P.M. yesterday M. Jules Favre called upon me in person to thank my government in the name of that of the national defense, as well as in his own behalf, for its prompt recognition of the republic and the tender of its felicitations. He again desired that I should transmit to the President and Cabinet at Washington the profound acknowledgments of the government of the national defense . . .
Later that same day Washburne sent a second dispatch to Washington.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—September 9, 1870
At about 4 o’clock yesterday afternoon a large crowd of French people came to the Legation, bearing the French and American flags, repeating the cries, “Vive l’Amérique!” “Vive la France!” A delegation, composed of very respectable gentlemen, waited upon me in my private room and read a short address, begging that I would transmit to my government the thanks of a great number of French citizens for the promptness and cordiality with which it had recognized the French republic . . .
Washburne also sent a personal note to President Grant back home, apprising him of the conditions in Paris and the sentiments of the French people.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to President Ulysses S. Grant, Washington, D.C.—September 9, 1870
I would like to see you to tell you of all I have seen here for the last few weeks. Never was a nation more humbled, prostrated and butchered as France has been . . . Our country has never before stood out so prominently as now. Our prompt recognition of the Republic thrilled the whole country . . .
That same day, despite the rush of events, Washburne took time to offer his sixteen-year-old son Pitt, now attending school in London, some fatherly advice.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Pitt Washburne, London—September 9, 1870
I am very sorry you have such a bad cold, but I hope it will not last long, for it is important now that you should be well and be able to study hard. I am glad to hear that you are going to practice economy. It is very important because I have not much money to spend on you. Your letter of the 8th, yesterday, is written very well . . .
If the Prussians come here, it is quite likely that I shall leave the city with the whole diplomatic corps . . . You have seen that we have a Republic in France. It has been very quiet here since the Revolution of the 4th of this month . . . I am rejoiced at the downfall of the dynasty. I have no sympathy for the Emperor . . . The French people owe nothing to him, but on the other hand he has brought on them the most terrible misfortune . . .
I am not without hope that we may have a peace before long and that we may all return to Paris. I am so lonely when you are all away. You must write at least three times a week a long letter. Be very careful how you spell. In this letter you spell scholar with two l’s and sorry with one r . A man who is going to be a great doctor must know how to spell or he will be ridiculed.
After the proclamation of the new republic, “an atmosphere of unrestrained carnival” reigned in Paris, but fears about Prussian spies remained. Near Washburne’s home, on the Avenue de l’Impératrice, a former schoolhouse was ransacked and vandalized by soldiers believing it to be the home of Prussian nationalists. Washburne was incensed. Wickham Hoffman, the Legation Secretary, recalled that Minister Washburne was “in arms at once,” as he was not the type of man “to submit to any outrage upon German or American property.”
Diary—September 15, 1870
This morning I learned that the building occupied by Mr. [Paul] Hedler and his mother as a school for American boys had been broken into yesterday by some soldiers of the National Guard and guard mobile, and partially sacked. The School was run by Paul and Charles Hedler and their mother. Paul and his mother are subjects of the North German confederation, but Charles is a naturalized American. As the two former came under the cruel order of expulsion, they had to leave France and so they concluded to go to England. Pitt was at this school but when they moved it to London he followed, but holding his room in the building and leaving a good many of his things. In view of the fact that Charles Hedler was an American and that Pitt was an inmate of the school, I permitted them to put out an American flag as protection. It seems that somebody in the neighborhood yesterday started the story that there were Prussians in the house, then soldiers broke in, in utter contempt of the flag, seized the concierge and marched him off to the police, took all Mr. Hedler’s papers, smashed everything up in his office, and then made for Pitt’s room . . . broke into his drawers, threw his things all about the room, and carried off all his letters. They then went into the
cellar and broke into the wine. They did not do great damage in other parts of the house . . . As soon as I learned what had happened this morning I went thither to get at the exact facts. From there I went to the Foreign Office and reported unofficially the outrage and the insult to our flag to Jules Favre . . . Favre at once saw the gravity of the affair and [the] most energetic measures should be instantly taken to inquire into the matter, punish the perpetrators and to make the fullest reparation . . .
After France’s crushing defeat at Sedan and the surrender of the Emperor, General Moltke commanded his troops, “Nach Paris!” (To Paris!)
By early September, daily reports into Paris marked the rapid advance of the Prussians. The French army was in full retreat, now planning to make its defense inside the massive “girdle” of fortifications surrounding Paris. Scores of people fled into the city while displaced refugees from the provinces tried to make their way safely inside Paris. Wickham Hoffman described the chaos:
They were thronged with the quaintest-looking old carts, farm-wagons, Noah’s arks of every kind, loaded with the furniture of the poor inhabitants of the neighborhood flying to Paris for safety. On the other hand, the stations were thronged with the carriages of the better classes leaving the city. The railroads were so overworked that they finally refused to take any baggage that could not be carried by the passenger himself.
Within days, the city, including Washburne’s neighborhood, became an armed camp. In his diary he noted the changing face of Paris and its uncertain future.
Diary, September 15, 1870
Every carriage of pleasure has disappeared. The streets are no longer sprinkled or cleaned, and before the recent rain the dust in the Champs-Élysées was so great you could hardly see a road before you . . . The city is but one big camp. Three hundred thousand soldiers passed in review before Gen. [Louis Jules] Trochu19 on Tuesday. There are soldiers everywhere, organized and unorganized, of all arms, uniforms, shades, and colors . . . Streets and avenues are filled with tents and baggage wagons, horses, forage &c. The garden of the Tuileries is filled with artillery. There is a great movement of troops tonight; regiments are marching down the Champs-Élysées and as I write I distinctly hear them singing the eternal but ever inspiring, “Marseillaise” . . .