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Gedanken and Erinnerungen
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Historical SummaryFOR France the period from 1870 to 1871, l’année terrible, was indeed a year of misfortunes. On the heels of the disastrous defeat by Prussia came the bloody uprising of the Paris Commune. Infuriated by economic distress, unemployment, and destitution, the Communards—a heterogeneous combination of revolutionaries—proclaimed Paris a "Commune," adopted the red flag, and called for a proletarian revolution. The Commune was to be an autonomous "state within the State." Attempts to create other Communes in France failed, and the civil war was confined to Paris. The bourgeoisie, however, described all Communards as Communists attempting to overthrow the social order, and demanded their extinction. The captive French armies released by the Germans began a new siege of Paris in April, 1871, this time with the Germans looking on. A terrible street struggle took place between the troops and the Communards, each side desperate and merciless. Several prominent personages, including the Archbishop of Paris, were executed. The Palais de Justice, the Hôtel de Ville, and the Tuileries were set afire and the Vendôme Column was pulled down. The final stand of the Communards took place at the cemetery of Père Lachaise. The Commune was wiped out with unparalleled ferocity. It is estimated that some 18,000 Communards perished in the orgy of revenge. The courage and ferocity of the women of Paris during the insurrection led a correspondent of the London Times to remark that France would indeed be a terrible nation if it consisted entirely of women. In peace the women of Paris performed the lion’s share of work. While husbands lounged after working hours in cafes and cabarets, sipping absinthe or smoking caporal tobacco, their women were well-behaved, industrious, and home-loving. Then came the siege. Husbands lost their work. The wives waited day after day in the frost and snow for scanty shares of rations and saw their children die of starvation. For these desperate women the Commune became a sort of millenium which would cure all their ills. The fighting woman of the Commune became known as la Pétroleuse (petroleum-thrower, from the universal belief, spread by propaganda, that Communard women and children went about with gasoline setting fires indiscriminately). An eyewitness of the march of these women on Montmarte writes: "I met a company of female Federals bearing two great red flags, and shouting the ’Marseillaise’ and ’Vive la Commune!’ I fancied I recognized at the head of the company one of the favorite orators of the club at the Boule Noire, who seemed to take the place of an officer. Each woman had a Chassepôt slung across her shoulders, and a belt and cartouch box, amply supplied with cartridges, round her waist. The bystanders signified their disgust but took care not to speak too loud, as it was evident these women were disposed to do something desperate." Below is an eyewitness description of the last stand of the Parisian Amazons as related by an English surgeon in the service of the Commune.
Key QuoteAn English surgeon in the service of the Commune describes the last stand of the Parisian Amazons.
Harper’s Weekly
July 22, 1871
La Petroleuse
[1871]
[Harper’s Weekly, Supplement, July 22, 1871]
Then commenced, perhaps, the most horrible of all the fights I had yet seen in the streets. Just as the Nationals were retreating, a battalion of women came up the street at a trot, and, with cries of "Vive la Commune," began firing. They were armed with the Snider rifle, and fired admirably. Many pretty-looking young girls were there, destined no doubt, for far better things than killing men. They fought like devils, far better than the men, and I had the pain of seeing fifty-two shot down even when they had been surrounded by the troops and disarmed. I saw about sixty men shot at the same place as the women, at the same time.
A touching little incident met ray view, which completely unmanned me. While Paris was blazing in the night, the cannon roaring, and the musket rolling, a poor woman was crouching inside a cart and crying bitterly. I offered her a glass of wine and a piece of bread. She refused it, saying, "For the short time I have to live I shall not need it."
The troops were then on the other side of the barricades, having taken the Caserne du Prince Eugène, Chateau d’Eau, and at midnight the firing ceased.
Suddenly I heard six shots in rapid succession, and by their sound knew them to be revolver reports. A great uproar on the other side of the barricade followed, and looking, at a great risk, out of the window, I saw the poor woman I have just described about to be seized by four troopers, who were divesting her rapidly of her outer garments. Impelled by I know not what, I left the house, and crept over the barricade, and crouched down by the lamp-post on the other side. I heard the harsh voice of the officer in command of the troops interrogating the woman, saying, "You are brave—you have killed two of my men."
The woman laughed derisively, and responded in a hardened manner, "May the curse of the Almighty always rest upon my soul for not killing, more! I had two sons at Issy, who were both killed, and two at Neuilly who shared the same fate. My husband died at this barricade, and now do with me what you will."
I heard no more, but crept away, but not too soon to hear the word "Fire!" and then I knew that all was over. We deserted the barricade that night.
A woman was arrested in the Rue de la Roquette, accused of arson, and led off to execution; her child, a little
girl of three or four, followed, cling-hag to her mother’s petticoats. No sooner had the unfortunate woman been taken into a court, than she was placed against a wall and shot.
The child, which had been dragged away from its mother when the latter was led out to be shot, fled, screaming with fright, at the report of the muskets. An officer thereupon drew his revolver and shot the child through the hack as it ran, killing it instantly.
Contents:
Chicago: An English Surgeon, "La Petroleuse," Gedanken and Erinnerungen in History in the First Person: Eyewitnesses of Great Events: They Saw It Happen, ed. Louis Leo Snyder and Richard B. Morris (Harrisburg, Pa.: Stackpole Co., 1951), Original Sources, accessed December 3, 2024, http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=ANZVLHPLMUHHVSU.
MLA: An English Surgeon. "La Petroleuse." Gedanken and Erinnerungen, in History in the First Person: Eyewitnesses of Great Events: They Saw It Happen, edited by Louis Leo Snyder and Richard B. Morris, Harrisburg, Pa., Stackpole Co., 1951, Original Sources. 3 Dec. 2024. http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=ANZVLHPLMUHHVSU.
Harvard: An English Surgeon, 'La Petroleuse' in Gedanken and Erinnerungen. cited in 1951, History in the First Person: Eyewitnesses of Great Events: They Saw It Happen, ed. , Stackpole Co., Harrisburg, Pa.. Original Sources, retrieved 3 December 2024, from http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=ANZVLHPLMUHHVSU.
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