THE SIEGE OF PARIS

Press, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23053, 22 June 1940, Page 15

THE SIEGE OF PARIS

MADAME Christine Rawlings has handed to “The Press” a series of letters written by jj 6 r uncle,, Arthur Bumpus, to his sisteV -ih London during the siege of Paris, 1870-71. Arthur Bumpus was at that time a young man and .was employed on the staff of “Galignani's Messenger,” a daily news-sheet in English. The Franco-Prussian war began on July 15, 1870; a series of rajud defeats of the various French armies led to the disaster of Sedan; Bazaine, the commander of the Lorraine was driven int® Metz with 200,000 men, and capitulated there on October 28; Paris was completely surrounded by September 17, and throughout a most bittei winter the inhabitants suffered one of the worst sieges of history: dogs, rats, and mice were eaten before the capitulation on January 28, 1871. During the months of the siege attempts to relieve Paris were made by poorly-equipped forces organised by Gambetta who. in September, had escaped from Paris in a balloon to set up the Government at Tours, After the war Bazaitte was courtmartialled and sentenced to death for capitulating at Metz without a serious attempt to raise the siege of Paris; a.t the trial he asked the judge what there was left to fight for. The judge replied: “II restart 3a France.” The letters from which the following extracts are taken are full of references to the intense cold of |heysiege months, the difficulty of

getting provisions, the existence of disease, and the constant fear of murder and pillage in all quarters. i. In the middle of July, 1870, Ar- ' fhur Bumpus writes to his sister and mentions that not one ( of the English friends he had been expecting to see has turned Up, “afraid probably of the smallpox which still continues very bad; indeed, last week’s deaths were 267, the highest ; number we have yet had, I hear

Letters From 1870-71

from good authority that it is not Pans only that is affected, but almost all France, although not much is said about it. The Var is causing tremendous excitement here. All day long the soldiers are passing, seme tipsy, some merry, and some sad, and often' accompanied by groups of weeping women. The railway stations especially present a most singular scene. At night bands of men parade the streets crying ‘a Berlin,’ and singing the ‘Marseillaise, which it was almost treason to sing six months ago; but the Government are too wise to attempt to suppress the old battle-cry with which the French have so often marched to victory. Business is almost at a standstill. What affects us most is the calling out of the Garde Mobile, for which they take all the young men between 21 and 25 years of age. I know several bookselling houses which are thus deprived of nearly Bill their assistants, and from ohe large linen drapers 115 were called out. In many instances tradesmen have been Compelled to close entirely, to their ruin. The French are most enthusiastic and seem confident of success, but I think their task will not be very easy.”

On August 14 he gives an account of the receptioh in Paris of the false news of a great French victory in which 25,000 Prussians were supposed to have been taken prisoners. “We were .under this delusion only a few hours, and then all faces grew grave. In Paris the next morning dejection was on every countenance, and a most dismal silence prevailed

everywhere) even in the Gafes ( usually so full of animation. In fact, the whole people seemed stunned.” For a time riots were feared; but by the next day nothing was heard “but expressions of determination to drive out the hated Prussians at anv cost. Meantime, we are in a state of siege here, but I do not find it makes any difference to myself.” A very short letter from which

a good part, including the date, is missing, must have been written early in September, on the day the disastrous news of Sedan . reached Paris; “The most intense excitement prevails in Paris. The French swear they will fight it out to the bitter end. A republic is proclaimed and the Empress has left the Tuileries, for where no one knows. ... I still mean to stay until I am driven out, hoping things will not come to that extremity.”

By September 7 things had grown more serious, and the young man no longer found that the siege made no difference to him; ' “This may very likely be the last post to England. They are beginning to blow up the railway bridges round Paris. . . . We are expecting the arrival of the Prussians any time after to-mor-row morning, and unless the temper of the French people changes, or ■some of the Great Powers intervene, We may expect to be bombarded. It will be piteous if so beautiful a city is destroyed.” Some time between September and the capitulation in January, Arthur Burnous sent letters to England by balloon; he mentions this in a letter dated February 10, 1871. but the adventurous letters are not included in Madame Rawlings’s collection. In the February 10 letter there is some news of the siege; “May the Lord keen you from ever being besieged in London, for such a time I have never yet passed through. We got on pretty weir at first, but for some time we have had onlv two ounces of horse per head daily, with about 10 ounces of bread, and such bread—a disgusting mixture of rice, rye. tares, etc., with a good deal of bay and straw in it.” He suffered from cholerine and “the doctor told me that with my English habit #>f meat-eating I must live better, so I used to eke out mv fare by eating at a restaurant. This cost dear, but there was no help for it, for 8., our manager, who is an awful screw, cut down our allowances to the lowest possible point, and even diminished our never very abundant quantity of wine, instead of giving to make uo for our bad diet.... The people here seeffi very angry at the capitulation, and declare they have been betrayed. The bombardment did not roach out* quarter, but I went a few times to the south s'de and heard the shells Whistle. Finding, however, that some people had been killed in the very streets through which I had passed a short time previously, I’ thought it prudent to cease my promenades.”