Elihu Washburne

by Michael Hill

  With the compliments of the season for yourself and for those gentlemen in the [State] department with whom I was associated, even for so short a time . . .

  Diary—January 3, 1871

  107th day of the siege. Tremendous firing all last night. Old Père says the house (75) trembled and the windows shook so much that none of them could sleep all night. I do not hear of any result today, however . . . [The] cold still continues—talk of another sortie. Hunger pinches; discontent increases, but nothing is said about surrendering. They think there ought to be more accomplished by the military . . .

  On January 4, Washburne sent a hopeful note to Adele in Brussels.

  Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Adele Washburne, Brussels—January 4, 1871

  [K]eep up your courage, be contented and happy as possible. Grack and I are well and cannot want. Our great trial is the separation from you and the children. I know how long and tedious the days must be to you, but it cannot last much longer . . .

  Diary—January 4, 1871

  108th day of the siege. Nix. It is cold still and more dreary than ever. I have been busy, however, with the current matters at the Legation and receiving calls. More people than ever seem to be coming to the Legation. Indeed, there are so many that it is almost impossible to do any work there. We seem to be the great centre as the only news that comes into Paris comes to me or through me. But as I can make no use of it, I am tired of receiving it. The newspapers lie like dogs. One says that it has news that comes through me. Another says I have got news, but as it is favorable to the French I won’t let it out. And then they made an attempt yesterday to bribe Old Père. They offered him a thousand francs for the latest London paper. [But he stood firm.] . . . I have concluded that it is too much for me to have the news for two millions of people, and I don’t care to bear the burden. Besides, it may get me into trouble and I have written Bismarck that I will have no more London papers sent to me.1 I would rather be without them than to be bothered as I am. I will have the home papers however.

  Diary—January 5, 1871

  A case of terrible suffering of a German family, living in the Avenue d’Italie, was brought to my notice yesterday. They were literally dying of cold and hunger. I immediately sent Antoine with a little wood, wine, chocolate, sugar, confiture, &c. He found a family of seven persons, cooped up in a little attic about ten feet square in the last stage of misery. No fire and no food. There was a little boy some seven years old lying on a pallet of straw, so far gone as to be unable to raise his head or to talk. I sent Antoine again today to the family with a can of Portland sugar, corn, a very small piece of pork—one half of my own stock and two herrings, also one half of my own stock. I told Antoine to take the poor little fellow to our house to be taken care of . . . but when he proposed it he did not want to go.

  Diary—January 6, 1871

  110th day of the siege. 2nd day of the bombardment. The bombardment of the forts seems to have stopped in a great measure today, but occasional shells have been thrown into the city, but with what results I do not know. It seems very strange that the firing on the forts has ceased and nobody can tell why. The city is very calm under the circumstances, but it is impossible to tell what is coming next . . . I bought a peck of potatoes today for four dollars in gold2 and was glad to get them at that price. I procured from the mairie [town hall of his arrondissement] today some rice, some dry peas, some codfish and herring and some Dutch cheese. With what I have already laid in I can keep the wolf from the door for a long time. Old Père informs me that all those beautiful shade trees in the Avenue Bugeaud have been cut down, and, what is worse, that magnificent tree right by our house which has been such an ornament. Quelle horreur! The cutting down of a shade tree is the next thing to the commission of murder. I just want to leave this town, taking a steamboat at the first wood yard. The weather has moderated very much, which will alleviate the sufferings of the people. Have not been away from the Legation today except to walk up to the American ambulance at night.

  Diary—January 7, 1871

  111th day of the siege. 3rd day of the bombardment. It was a mistake to say that the Prussians had moderated their firing yesterday. It was furious as ever, but the wind having changed we did not hear it. Today the bombardment has been very heavy all day and a good many shells have fallen in different parts of the city and quite a number of people have been killed and wounded. The great mass of the population has not been very much moved, but there is extreme violence in the Clubs. A revolutionary hand-bill was placarded yesterday, but it failed to affect anything. It was torn down as fast as put up, even in the most turbulent quarters. But I think the fuss will drive the government to make another sortie or another feint. The weather has been much more mild today and thawing considerably . . .

  Diary—January 8, 1871

  Sunday, 112th day of the siege. 4th day of the bombardment. One more week and we do not seem to be any nearer the end unless this bombardment shall affect something. It is so hard to get at the real truth as to what the Prussians have actually accomplished since they commenced bombarding the forts of the East eleven days ago . . . How long this thing can continue I cannot, of course, judge, but one thing is certain[:] the Prussians have fired away an immense amount of material. The carelessness and nonchalance of the Parisians in all this business is wonderful. No sooner does a shell fall than all the people run into the quarter to see what harm it does, and if it has not exploded they pick it up and carry it off. They have carried this thing so far that the government has had to forbid it. Ladies and gentlemen now make an excursion to the Point du Jour to see the shells fall. Twenty-four Prussian shells fell yesterday in precisely the same spot and not the least harm was done.

  The change of the weather since last Sunday has done wonders in ameliorating the sufferings of the poor. The mayors are rationing the provisions to the poor, but when one has to buy outside[,] enormous prices have to be paid. Since I have got to housekeeping I have made provision against absolute want, and I will live well enough besides. I have now lots of American things like, succotash, green corn, tomatoes, cranberry sauce, and oysters. And then I have a little pork and a little ham, codfish, herring, nice dry peas and dry beans, chocolate. As to potatoes, there is the rub, but I have just bought half a bushel for which I have paid nine dollars in gold.3 I can see my way clear till the first of March and now they can toot their horns. A good friend sends me enough milk for our coffee. Therefore, let there be no worrying on our account. Besides, we are in the way of having an ample supply of fuel . . .

  Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—January 9, 1871

  There has been a good deal of discontent in the city during the past week. It has not, however, taken the direction of a cry for peace or surrender, but resulting in a sharp arraignment of the government for a failure to perform its whole duty . . . Although a great many people said the arraignment was partially just, yet but few were willing to accept the remedy proposed, by replacing the government of the National Defense by the revolutionary commune. They evidently adopted Mr. Lincoln’s theory, that it was no time to swap horses while swimming a river . . .

  On January 9, Washburne received word that an American, Charles Swager of Louisville, Kentucky, had been hit by a Prussian artillery shell.

  Diary—January 9, 1871

  113th day of the siege. 5th day of the bombardment. “Des canons, toujours des canons” [Cannons, always cannons]. The bombardment was furious all last night and all day today. The shells have come into the Latin Quarter thick and fast and many people killed and wounded. Among the number is a young American by the name of [Charles] Swager, from Louisville, Kentucky. He was sitting in his room in the Latin Quarter last night when a shell came in and struck his foot. He injured it to the extent that he had to have his leg amputated. He was taken to our American ambulance where the operation was performed by Doctors Swinburne and Johnston. [Despite the best efforts of the American ambulance corp
s, Swager died a month later.]

  It has been snowing a little all day, but I have been very busy in my room writing dispatches and letters. A short time before my bag was ready to be closed I got word from the military headquarters that they could not send it out tomorrow morning on account of military reasons. It may now be detained a whole week. The French have some news this morning, the first from the outside government for three weeks. If to be credited, it is rather good and they are all “up a tree” today. Baked pork and beans for dinner today. I showed the cook how to prepare the dish, à la mode Livermore . . .

  During the second week of January, the bombing of Paris continued with “undiminished intensity,” as shells continued to strike in the neighborhood of the civilian hospitals on the Left Bank.

  Diary—January 11, 1871

  115th day of the siege. 7th day of the bombardment. Busy in reading the newspapers till two o’clock, P.M. Then went down town, and at six o’clock called on M. Jules Favre. He thinks the forts will hold out, and that the bombardment will not hurry the surrender. He spoke with much emotion of the barbarism of the bombardment without any notice whatever. He said he has just attended the funeral of six little children killed by a bomb. From the direction of the wind, or some other cause, we have heard but little firing today. I heard a few distant and random guns, as I wrote at ten o’clock this evening.

  Diary—January 12, 1871

  116th day of the siege. 8th day of the bombardment. Engaged pretty much all day on matters connected with the Diplomatic corps. This P.M. a full meeting of the corps at Dr. Kern’s and the form of a letter to Count Bismarck was agreed upon.4 I have been very agueish all day—headache, cold feet, pains all over and “not very well myself.” Dr. Johnston to dinner—tomato and rice soup, sardines, baked pork and beans, succotash, etc., very well for a siege dinner. From what I can hear, I think the bombardment has slackened a little today, but it is possibly only “getting off to get on better.” The city is filled with horror and indignation at the bombardment of the hospitals, ambulances and monuments of art, and if the city be not taken by bombardment or assault, they will only hold out longer and suffer more. The weather has become colder with the last two or three days and we have had snow enough to just whiten the ground. It looks like young winter today. They are now cutting down the big trees in the great avenues of the city—on the Champs-Élysées and the [Avenue] Montaigne. It made me sick to pass through the Avenue Bugeaud the other day, that splendid avenue, with its magnificent shade trees, added so much to the beauty of our neighborhood. How pleasant of a June morning to be protected by their graceful shades. Not one single tree left!

  Diary—January 14, 1871

  118th day of the siege. 10th day of the bombardment. This has been a cold, dreary day. Our mild weather did not continue long. Although my bag and papers came in last Tuesday night, I have been so busy with matters connected with the Diplomatic Corps, and other things, that I have not had time to read up the papers. I therefore sat down to it this morning and did not leave my room till two o’clock this P.M. I then walked down to Drexel, Hayes & Co. [Washburne’s banker in Paris] and witnessed the horrible sight of two large and magnificent trees being cut down on the Champs-Élysées. The Government seems to have no control whatever. The people go where they please and cut down what trees they please. The bombardment has been about as usual. In those parts of the city where the bombs have not reached, there is no change and everything goes on as usual. Codfish dinner today, with “pork scraps.”

  Diary—January 15, 1871

  Sunday. 119th day of the siege. 11th day of the bombardment. The firing was heavy last night and I believe the French expected an attack, for the official report this morning says that the most vigorous measures had been taken to repress any attack. It is now eleven days since this bombardment of the town and the forts of the south commenced and it seems to me that it were high time that some results were obtained. The Journal Officiel this morning gives an account of the casualties by bombardment so far. They amount to only 189—fifty-one killed and one hundred and thirty-eight wounded and this in a population of two millions. The number is not large considering there was no notice of bombardment given. Of the whole number killed and wounded there are thirty-nine children. The damage to the buildings has not been very large as yet. It would not greatly surprise me if things were culminating at the present writing.

  A gentleman has just been in to say that there is a report that the Prussians have made an attack this morning on the French works this side of Le Bourget and the bombardment on the forts of the South is tremendous, for the windows of my apartment are trembling for the first time, as I write. An official from the mairie has just been in to see me, and he says there are provisions enough yet for two months . Another man will come in shortly and tell me that the supply of bread will only last a week and that the city must surrender. So to an outsider it is all guess-work. The only thing I pretend to know is that the city . . . “Stands Firm.” But who can measure the horrors of this population. From what I can gather from the outside world, I take it that all peoples of the earth are looking in with utter indifference and saying, “Hit him again . . .” The Diplomatic Corps sent out their document to Bismarck yesterday morning.

  Four o’clock P.M. A friend called and he and I took a walk out to the Trocadero to see what we could see. Half the city seemed to be going in the same direction and it was quite a sight to see such a multitude standing in the cold, cutting, biting wind gazing in the direction of the forts and the Prussian batteries. The firing was tremendous, but nothing was really to be seen. It is almost impossible to learn what is going on. A fort might be taken, or a Prussian attack repulsed today, but we should hear nothing of it till tomorrow morning when we should read a few stolid lines in the official report.

  Diary—January 16, 1871

  120th day of the siege. 12th day of the bombardment. There was so much firing and pounding away yesterday that I did not know but something would actually take place, but the military report shows nothing but a bitter combat between the forts and the Prussian batteries, and perhaps rather more than the usual number of shells thrown into the city. The sky is somber this morning, but it is not quite so cold as yesterday. As I look out of my window the city appears sullen and indifferent to the constant thundering of the cannon. Nearly twelve days of furious bombardment has accomplished but little. The killing and wounding of a few men, women and children and the knocking to pieces a few hundred houses in a city of two millions is no great progress. But perhaps one of the French forts may fall. Then the Prussians may get a nearer range. If they do not accomplish [that] they will stay out some time yet. I dined last evening with a prominent French official, whose business it is to keep an account of the provisions of Paris, and he surprised us by saying that there was yet much to enable the city to hold out easily until the end of February . The bread would not be of a good quality, but it would hold out; great quantities of rice, exhaustless quantities of wine, sugar, coffee, etc., etc., together with a good supply of horse meat. News comes in now by the German papers even as late as the 8th inst. [instant, i.e., January 8] and both sides appear to be claiming victories.

  Elihu Washburne, Paris—to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, D.C.—January 16, 1871

  I am today furnishing aid to twenty-two hundred and seventy-six destitute Germans, and I have had to employ three additional persons in my Legation to perform the service necessary to look after these people. Besides, it is necessary to consider the vastly-enhanced prices of everything which we have had to purchase, as incidents to the state of siege. For instance, I have had to pay at the rate of more than fifty dollars a cord of wood . . .

  Diary—January 17, 1871

  121st day of the siege. 13th day of the bombardment. The firing seems to have been less furious today. The people in the parts of the city bombarded are getting out of the way and are not exposing themselves so much. The consequence is that the number of kil
led and wounded in the last few days has been much smaller than before. Some few shells have nearly reached the Seine, but the material damage is nowhere very great as yet, considering the length of time the bombardment has been going on and the amount of bombs thrown into the city. Old Moltke must put on more steam if he expects to take Paris in this way . . . The weather has become milder and military movements are spoken of, but I have come to regard such movements as no more than “thistle down and feathers . . .”

  Diary—January 18, 1871

  122d day of the siege. 14th day of the bombardment. Four months of siege today and where has all this gone to? It seems to me as if I had been buried alive. I have accomplished nothing and separated from my family and friends, cut off from communication to a great extent from the outside world, those dreary weeks might as well be struck out of my existence . . . I am more and more convinced that we can only be taken by starvation . . .

  In late December the government of National Defense discussed the possibility of one last big sortie to break the siege. General Ducrot, still reeling from his defeat in the last major battle, advised against such an offensive while General Trochu pushed hard, proclaiming: “At the last hour, when hunger is pressing on the population and all hope of outside assistance has been abandoned, we will make the supreme effort.” On January 19, General Trochu led 100,000 members of the National Guard into battle. Despite a heroic charge against the Prussian lines, they were once again pushed back. It was the last great effort to break the Prussian siege.