by Michael Hill
Diary, September 16, 1870, Friday morning
All communication with the outside world will very soon be cut off. I shall remain at my post of duty and await the logic of events . . .
2
SIEGE
On September 17, 1870, the siege of Paris began. For two days the Prussian army slowly enveloped the city, moving in like the “claws of a crab.” Paris was fortified by a wall 30 feet high and a moat 10 feet wide plus an outer string of powerful forts. This chain of defenses comprised a circumference of some 40 miles. To succeed, the siege would require a 50-mile ring and virtually all of Prussia’s army.
Inside the capital, trees in the Bois de Boulogne were cut down to provide barricades and fuel. Twelve thousand laborers frantically dug breastworks. Signal semaphores were set up in positions on top of the Arch of Triumph. Many of the treasures from the Louvre were taken to Brest, with the empty galleries converted into arsenals. Artillery camps were set up in the gardens of the Tuileries, and the manufacture of cartridges proceeded on an “enormous scale.” Throughout the city, the “smell of saltpetre” filled the air.
Provisions were set aside to feed those now being sealed off in Paris, of whom 500,000 were soldiers. Some 250,000 sheep and 40,000 oxen were herded into the Bois de Boulogne. “As far as ever the eye can reach,” one reporter wrote, “over every open space, down the long, long avenue all the way to Longchamp itself, nothing but sheep, sheep, sheep!”
By September 19 the gates of Paris were finally shut. For the next four and a half “dreary and mortal” months, Elihu Washburne would remain at his post, an eyewitness to the “patient suffering” of the people and the death, destruction, and starvation that would eventually bring Paris to its knees.
Diary—September 19, 1870
Has the world ever witnessed such a change in so short a time? It to me seems like a dream. For the first time we feel today that we are cut off from the outside world. All the roads are cut and no mails and no communication. And it seems odd to be in this great world and still not in it—shut out from all communication, no letters, no papers, no nothing. But after all, a certain part of Paris, doesn’t seem to mind it much . . . There are the same omnibuses, the same stores open, the same people moving about . . . There are a great many troops in the street . . .
Near Washburne’s home, on the Avenue de l’Impératrice, a neighbor and friend, Dr. Thomas Evans of Philadelphia, had established the American Ambulance, a well-equipped, well-staffed military field hospital for the wounded. The resourceful and ambitious Dr. Evans had operated a lucrative dental practice in Paris and had, among other notable patients, the Emperor and Empress. A close friend and confidant of the royal family, he had helped the Empress escape to England upon the collapse of the Second Empire.
The Ambulance corps was operated by two American doctors, Dr. John Swinburne, a former Civil War field surgeon, and Dr. W. E. Johnston. During the war and siege, their efforts on behalf of the sick, wounded, and dying earned enormous praise from the French people. Washburne would visit the Ambulance often and, with pride, write of the assistance given the corps by Gratiot in helping to bring the dead and wounded in from the battlefield.
Diary—September 21, 1870
Evening. Third day of the siege and almost without incident. The weather still lovely, so many people on the street you might call it almost gay. The Champs-Élysées was clear . . . and as I rode down it at one o’clock it seemed really pleasant. Not so many people at the Legation as yesterday, but a good many straggling in . . . A balloon started yesterday at 4 o’clock . . . to get outside the besieging forces and I entrusted a couple of letters to it to be sent to London.1 At three o’clock this P.M. I visited the American ambulance [hospital] which is established on this Avenue, nearly opposite . . . Indeed, it is far superior to anything they have in the French army . . .
Diary—September 23, 1870
8 o’clock—Friday morning. As I descend into the petit salon [parlor] I see soldiers on every side. A company is drilling in front of the house, another in the Avenue Bugeaud and yet another is quartered in the adjoining house. The discharges of artillery which were first heard at six o’clock this morning are now more distinguished as I write, the sound coming from beyond the Trocadero. An action is evidently going on. From all I see and hear I think the Prussians will soon be in the city. The firing is more rapid. I shall take a . . . ride around by the Trocadero as I go to the Legation to see what I can see. This is one of the most beautiful and lovely of mornings.
Friday evening. There was quite a little action this morning and the French claim an advantage, but I do not see that it amounts to much. Yet they take courage from the result . . . At eleven o’clock, I went to . . . meet the diplomatic corps to consult as to what we should do. The ambassadors had all ran away last week, but there were twenty-two members of the corps present. All agreed that it was not the time for us to leave now and that we would hereafter act together collectively . . .
Diary—September 24, 1870
I have given notice for all [Americans] who want to leave when I go, if I shall deem it necessary to go, to send their names and addresses to the Legation. It is evident that people do not find as much fear as they expected in being shut up in a besieged city . . .
Diary—September 27, 1870
Ninth day of the siege . . . Had quite a little dinner party tonight, eleven covers [place settings at the dinner table] . . . Dr. [W. E.] Johnston . . . Dr. [John] Swinburne of N.Y., Col. Hoffman and others. Quite a good dinner for a besieged city. But the talk was not very inspiring to people in my neighborhood . . .
Diary—September 28, 1870
It looks more and more like “grim visaged war”2 in our own neighborhood . . . This morning on the main avenue directly opposite our house we saw them digging holes and on inquiring tonight, I find they are mining the street. Pleasant little neighborhood this. As I come home this evening I find them erecting a barricade the other side of Dr. [Thomas] Evans’ house . . . I am the last man to stay in the neighborhood, but I shall soon have to be getting out of this, as I will be shut up from getting here. But what am I to do with all the furniture in the house. We have some seven thousand dollars worth . . . I must take away the most valuable things and leave the balance to take their chance.
Now cut off from the outside world, Washburne sought any means possible to maintain communication with his family in Brussels.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Adele Washburne, Brussels—September 28, 1870
By a German who is to be sent out of Paris by the Government I shall try to send you this brief line to assure you of our continual good health. We are just as well and happy as we can well be under the circumstances. The weather is charming and Paris seems wonderfully cheerful. But both Gratiot and myself are getting very anxious to hear from you and our wishes daily grow more ardent to be once more united under our own roof. I have never before so much realized the want of your society and the presence of the darling children. But I find enough to do every day to take up my time and so I am not idle. We still have a large American society here. I had some nine persons to dine with me last night and we were really quite jolly . . . The house is in good order and all goes well.
Diary—September 29, 1870
Eleventh day of the siege. How magnificent is the weather still. I can scarcely recollect a more beautiful morning than this . . . After breakfast I walked out to see the new defense thrown across the Avenue de l’Impératrice . . . It will be formidable. They are still throwing up the defense that I spoke of yesterday and I will soon be blockaded . . .
The French army attempted several sorties to break the Prussian lines, but to no avail.
Diary—September 30, 1870, evening
Very heavy cannonading all the morning. After breakfast walked out to the fortifications but no one there knew anything about what was going on. Went to the Legation and worked till one o’clock and then took a friend and went in search of the news . . . Return
ed to the Legation and remained till five o’clock P.M. and then rode down to the Palace of Industry, now a large hospital, where the wounded have been brought. I there learned more of the details of the fight this morning. The French made a sortie and attacked two or three little towns with great courage and spirit, actually took one or two and held them for a short time against immense odds. When forced by overwhelming numbers to retire they marched back like troops on parade. But their losses have been heavy—some five hundred killed and fifteen hundred wounded . . . The wounded soldiers were all in the best spirits, which was . . . a good sign. The French are evidently inspired with fresh hopes. They believe that . . . France will yet be saved and that the French soldiers will vindicate the ancient prestige and glory of their country.
Even now, the twelfth day, the siege begins to be felt. Fresh meat is scarce and the butcher’s shops are surrounded by people in a riotous spirit. Bread . . . is abundant and cheap . . . horses are already starving. It is estimated that fifty thousand will be killed for food. They are selling for almost nothing. I saw very decayed horses sold at auction the other day for from five to eight dollars a head . . .
Diary—October 1, 1870
Evening. Have ridden around the city a good deal today and visited the fortifications at two points. They are amazingly strong . . .
No one could predict how long the siege would last. Some thought a month, others longer. Washburne himself would later write that a man “would have been deemed insane who would have predicted that the gates of the besieged city would not be open until the last day of February . . .” Anticipating the worst, Washburne and the remaining Americans had “laid in a stock of provisions” to help survive any lengthy investment of the city. Wickham Hoffman would later recall:
The French live from hand to mouth, buying only what is necessary for the day, and laying in no stores. This comes, I think, from their system of living in apartments, and the want of storerooms. The Americans, as a rule, laid in a stock of provisions. The grocers of Paris had imported a large quantity of canned food for the use of the colonie Americaine, which was then, and still is, a power in Paris. The greater part of the colonie having gone, there remained a quantity of canned vegetables, fruit, deviled ham and turkey, oysters, lobsters, etc. etc., and, above all, hominy and grits. The French knew nothing of these eatables till late in the siege, when they discovered their merits. In the mean time, the Americans had bought up nearly all there was on hand.
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Israel Washburn, Jr.—October 2, 1870
I think it very likely that I shall remain here during the siege and Gratiot will stay with me. No one can tell how long it will last. I think a long time . . . The French have 500,000 troops here and the spirit of the troops and the people is good. The defenses are very strong. The city may possibly hold out eight weeks . . . I will not be likely to starve. I have a stock for sixty days. I have, however, to leave my house as it is so near the ramparts and it is getting to be surrounded by defenses—barricades on both sides and the street mined . . .
P.S. I may leave Paris if the two governments will let the Americans who are here (some 200 or 300) go with me. But if they will not, I shall remain and share their fate. It would be cowardice for me to leave and have them stay . . .
Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Cadwallader Washburn—October 3, 1870
I am afraid we are in for a long siege. If they keep the Americans here, I shall remain with them. Paris is now very strong and I think will have to be starved out . . . Paris is one vast camp with 500,000 men in arms, but they seem to do nothing . . .
Diary—October 4, 1870
Sixteenth day of the siege. I have had an unusually busy day today; everybody calling on me to do something. People now begin to want to get out of the city; and they are very persistent . . . The people of Paris are becoming very sober and much discouraged. It seems to be understood that the Provinces are doing nothing. If that be so, the “jig is up,” and it is only a question of time as to how long Paris will hold out. It can resist shells and bombardments, but it cannot resist starvation. The long processions at the butcher shops are ominous.
Diary—October 6, 1870
For the first time for weeks we have had a dull, foggy morning. The servant comes in and says the streets are vacant and somber. My feelings are in unison with the appearance of the streets. This being shut off from all intercourse with the world, when you are on dry land, is becoming tedious.
Evening. The day has run out without any incident of importance. Some little glimmer of news has come in from the Prussians and the Parisians are a little more cheerful. But it all amounts to nothing, in my judgment. Nothing is being done. The days go and the provisions go.
Speaking of provisions, I saw day before yesterday in the street a barrel of flour made at Waverly, Iowa, some seventy or eighty miles west of Galena.
Had to make a visit today to the Prefect of Police, Count de Keratry, now “Citizen” de Keratry. He formerly belonged to the French army, and is regarded as a man of courage and ability . . . He spoke quite hopefully about affairs, but I don’t see it. Curious place this bad, old, dismal, dilapidated, gloomy, somber, dirty Prefecture of Police, the theater of so many crimes and so many punishments. If those frowning walls could speak, what tales of horror they might tell! . . .
On October 7, Washburne was startled by news that the French Minister of the Interior, Léon Gambetta, had made a daring escape from Paris by balloon. With the government cut off from the rest of France, Gambetta had been sent on a desperate mission to the outlying provinces to try to raise additional forces to engage the Prussian army and break the siege from outside. He was accompanied by a second balloon carrying two Americans, arms merchant Charles May and his associate William Reynolds. Once the balloons were outside the city and over the siege lines, the Prussians opened fire, but the balloons and their occupants escaped.
Diary—October 7, 1870
The weather is changing at last; the morning was quite cool, the afternoon cloudy and raining as I came into dinner this evening. There has been a good deal of cannonading today, and, I presume, as usual without results. There is still a little more news from outside today which is interpreted as favorable. The balloon went off at eleven this morning with six passengers, including Gambetta and two Americans. A large crowd saw it move off, amid great excitement. I hope that we shall hear that it landed safely. A very quiet day at the Legation. Drove down town this afternoon and went as far as the Hôtel de Ville [City Hall], where we found all was quiet. I have never seen the Rue de Rivoli so crowded in my life and one can barely conceive that we are in a besieged city . . .
On October 2, American General Ambrose Burnside, a veteran of the American Civil War now in Europe on business, entered the besieged city with a pass from Count Bismarck. The American general had been requested by Bismarck to approach Jules Favre about the possibility of an armistice. Once inside the city, Burnside stopped at the American Legation to pay his respects to the Minister.
Diary—October 8, 1870
I came to the Legation this evening to finish a dispatch to the State Department . . . To my surprise, I found that General [Ambrose] Burnside had been at the Legation, having come in with Mr. [Paul] Forbes from the Prussian headquarters. They have now gone down to report to General Trochu and Gratiot has gone down to the Foreign Office to arrange for an interview tomorrow, with Jules Favre. I shall go with them, and they will stay at my house tonight at No. 75. They leave tomorrow to go through the Prussian lines. They bring no letters and no later London papers than we had before . . . This has been a blue, dull, rainy day, in Paris. There is a great deal of discontent brewing, and I learn there was a large demonstration of the Reds [radical left-wing-Marxists, anarchists and revolutionaries] at the Hôtel de Ville this P.M., but I have not heard of results. No news from the balloon that went out yesterday and I am quite anxious as there were two Americans in it.3 While I do not mean to complain, I should not tell the truth
if I said it was not getting a little dull. This long absence of all news from . . . the outside world is depressing . . . and then this dull weather coming makes it worse . . .
During Burnside’s stay, Washburne introduced the General to some wealthy American friends, the Moultons, who had decided to remain in Paris through the German investment. Like many rich Americans, Charles, his son Charles, Jr., and wife, Lillie, had been favorites at the court of the Emperor and Empress. During the long months of siege, Washburne and Gratiot would dine and take company with them often.
Diary—October 9, 1870
Twenty-first day of the siege. All very comfortably lodged at No. 75 Avenue de l’Impératrice. Very good breakfast, and a very good dinner for starvation times . . . Quite a number of callers after dinner and at nine o’clock General Burnside and myself made a call at the Moultons. Nearly all French people there—Barons and Counts and Marquises and that sort of people, and now pretty much played out . . . Weather rainy and unpleasant, but made very cheerful by the glowing fire of the petit salon [parlor]. This finishes the third week of the siege and the fifth week of the New Republic.
On October 10, 1870, Count Bismarck informed Minister Washburne by letter that because he had taken upon himself the “officious protection of the Germans residing in France,” Bismarck would, in return, allow Washburne to send out and receive through the Prussian siege lines weekly diplomatic dispatch bags containing letters and newspapers.
Diary—October 10, 1870
I was very busy until noon today getting the bag ready to send off by General Burnside. I determined to send Antoine [Antoine Schmit, messenger of the American Legation] with him to take the bag from Versailles to London and to bring back the bag from London and one from Brest. At noon another interview of Burnside, Forbes and myself with General Trochu and M. Jules Favre. It lasted an hour and a half and was very interesting. Our American friends left No. 75 at a quarter before three o’clock precisely to go into the Prussian lines. The arrival of these gentlemen has created a great excitement in Paris. There were some twenty people at the house to see them off. They were accompanied to the Prussian lines by . . . Col. Hoffman and were delivered over this time without any delay.