- 'Paris Prepares for Siege'
- from the book
- The Great Battles of the Great War, The Daily Chronicle War Library 1914
The Entrenched Camp of Paris
a map showing the fortifications of Paris
VIII. PARIS PREPARES FOR SIEGE
THE shadow of siege fell over Paris almost upon the anniversary of Sedan. True, there had been no Sedan this time, or anything approaching it, but the long retreat of the Allied Forces before the sweep of the German legions through Northern France made the Parisians realise, at the beginning of September, that once again the city might be called upon to endure, as it had done just forty-four years previously, all the horrors of a bombardment and siege.
When the third stand of the Allies' left wing, at Compiegne and Soissons, had failed to stem the invasion, the city found itself actually face to face with the danger. Up to then confidence had been expressed in the belief that Paris could not be attacked. But on August 31st, German cavalry patrols were within forty miles of the French metropolis, and on the following day they were in sight of Chantilly, only twenty-three miles distant from their goal, and the investment, or at least a raid, seemed only a question of a day or so. Paris realised then that the enemy was only a day's march from the boulevards.
For nearly a fortnight its fate hung in the balance, and these were dark days for the City of Light. The rapidity with which fortresses such as Namur, supposed to be almost impregnable, had fallen made people ask each other if the great forts of Paris, considered invincible, could successfully hold out against the enemy.
LIKE BIRDS OF PREY
The threatened horror of warfare was brought vividly home to the Parisians at this time by the daily visit of German aeroplanes, which hovered over the city like great birds of prey. The first was sighted on August 30th, and thereafter these aerial visits of the enemy were daily repeated. Their bombs did not succeed in creating any panic in the city, but the gloom of the situation was increased by the constant stream of wounded from the fighting lines so near, and the influx of terror-stricken refugees from the country fleeing from the German advance. Thousands came into the city, from towns and villages within a radius of fifty miles, train load after train load arriving at the Gare d l'Est, the Gare du Nord, and the Gare de l’Ouest, while the roads into Paris were crowded with the vehicles of country folk escaping with as much of their belongings as possible.
Nevertheless, Paris was preparing to meet its possible fate with calmness. From the very beginning of the war it had resigned itself to the grimness of the conflict. It had changed, from the very first day of the mobilisation, from grave to gay. It had determined, even if it fell to the enemy, that France should not thereby receive a mortal blow. Those who remembered the days of 1870, when a similar fate was overtaking Paris, contrasted the comparative stoicism of the city now with the feverish panic then. However, the insatiable appetite for sensation, so characteristic of the true Parisian, did not desert the people. The daily aeroplane visit was eagerly looked for, and on the days when it came not there was actually disappointment. Possibly in the same spirit they were prepared to see Uhlans riding down the boulevards.
TAKEN BY SURPRISE
Undoubtedly the swiftness of the invasion of France took Paris by surprise. It was realised from the first that the city was threatened, but few thought of the possibility that the invader would be at the gates by the end of August. The blow, indeed, appeared to be about to fall with unexpected and terrible swiftness. Those who still remained confident, during the days of the Allies' continued retreat, had their confidence somewhat shaken by the tidings on August 31st, that the Ministry was preparing to shift its headquarters immediately to Tours, and then, if necessary, to Bordeaux.
That day and the following saw every Government department engaged in packing up its effects and mobilising its staff. Motor cars removed the State archives and documents to the Quai d'Orsay and Austerlitz stations, whilst other vehicles with Government property were sent off post-haste by road. However, two days later it was decided to transfer the Government right away to Bordeaux without a previous halt at Tours. Early on the morning of September 3rd, President Poincaré and his cabinet left Paris for the southern city, and later in the day the members of the Senate, Chamber Deputies and other State officials also made their departure.
AN ELOQUENT DEFIANCE
Before leaving, the President issued a proclamation as follows:
"FRENCHMEN, For several weeks fierce fighting has been going on between our heroic troops and the enemy. In several places the valour of our soldiers has gained marked advantages. But on the north the pressure of the German forces has compelled us to retire. This situation imposes on the President of the Republic and the Government a painful decision. To watch over the national safety the public authorities are, under duty, withdrawing for the moment from the City of Paris.
Under the command of an eminent chief, a French army, full of spirit and courage, will defend the capital and its patriotic population against the invader. But the war must go on meanwhile in the remaining parts of our territory. Without peace or truce, without hesitation or faltering, the sacred struggle for the honour of the nation and the restoration of violated right will go on. None of our armies is broken.
If some of them have suffered too great losses, gaps have been immediately made good by Reserves, and the supply of recruits assures us of new resources in men and energy for the morrow.
Stand fast and fight on! This is the watchword of the Allied Armies of England, Russia, Belgium, and France
Stand fast and fight on, while on sea the English help us to cut the communications of our enemies with the world.
Stand fast and fight on, while the Russians continue to advance to deliver a decisive blow at the heart of the German Empire. It is the Government of the Republic that must organise this determined resistance. Everywhere Frenchmen will rise in defence of their independence. But to give to this formidable struggle all its vigour and efficiency it is indispensable that the Government should keep its liberty of action.
At the request of the military authorities the Government, then, transfers its residence for the moment to a point of territory where it can remain in constant relations with the whole of the country. It asks members of Parliament not to remain at a distance from it, so that they may form in the face of the enemy, with the Government and their colleagues, a united front of national defence.
The Government only leaves Paris after having ensured the defence of the city and of its entrenched camp by all means in its power. It knows it has no need to recommend the admirable population in Paris to calm resolution and coolness. Every day Parisians show that they are equal to the highest duties. Frenchmen, show yourselves worthy in these tragic circumstances. In the end we shall obtain victory. We shall obtain it by untiring will, endurance, and tenacity. A nation which refuses to perish and which in order to survive falters not in the face of suffering or sacrifice is sure of victory."
STILL A PARIS LEFT
Some of the foreign Ambassadors' also removed to Bordeaux, but the Spanish and American Ambassadors remained in the threatened city. To complete the removal, the treasure of the Banque de France was also sent away.
The civil authorities remained behind to support the military Government. A committee was formed by the President of the City Council and the Council of the Seine department, to act under the military Governor and the Prefects.
An exodus of the population had begun some days previously. The military Governor had advised those with friends in the provinces to send their women and children away from the city, and the huge task of evacuating the military hospitals, with their thousands of wounded was begun. Many were sent away to be placed on hospital ships and taken by water to distant parts of the country, and others were dispatched by rail to the far south. Thousands of the civil population were evicted by the military authorities from their homes in the suburbs, for the purposes of the city's defence. Naturally a large proportion of the residents, which had the opportunity and means of leaving, did so. While there was no panic, extraordinary scenes of flight were witnessed for days. Thousands besieged the railway stations, and hundreds of motor cars carrying people and their possessions hurried out by the main roads west and south. As the German forces drew nearer the city it became increasingly difficult to escape.
The railway lines west were partially invaded, with bridges and track blown up by enemy patrols, and Havre, Cherbourg and other western towns could only be reached by detours. By the first days of September there remained practically only the direction of south-west or south, by which flight was possible. Nevertheless, the exodus reached enormous dimensions, especially when it was known that the Government was removing to the south.
SCENES OF ANXIETY
Extraordinary scenes were witnessed. Cabs laden with families and their household goods raced to the western and southern stations, where great crowds of people were endeavouring to take train for Brittany, Bordeaux, and the far south. It was estimated that on one day there were no less than 10,000 at a time in the Montparnasse station, booking for St. Malo, Brest, Rennes and elsewhere. At the Quai d'Orsay and the Gare de Lyon there were just as many. Travelling was only possible under terrible conditions. Many trains to Bordeaux were composed mostly of cattle-trucks, and in one truck there were often as many as thirty passengers, for a journey which would take about twenty- four hours. At some of the termini enough tickets had been issued to fill the trains for days ahead.
The great main roads out of Paris, south and west, saw, as already mentioned, equal activity. Even the Seine was utilised. River boats full of passengers, journeyed up to Havre (at £10 per passenger) where crowded steamers left for England and distant French ports.
Such was the great exodus from Paris. A well-known war-correspondent,. Mr. Phillip Gibbs, stated that on the road from Paris to Tours he saw, one day, a line of sixty miles of people, on foot, and in vehicles, rich and poor. His description of this stream of fugitives is so realistic that it may be quoted.
THE GREAT PROCESSION
“They came," he wrote, "in every kind of vehicle - taxi-cabs for which rich people had paid fabulous prices, motor-cars which had escaped the military requisition, farmers' carts laden with several families and with piles of household goods, shop carts drawn by horses already tired to the point of death, because of the weight of people who had crowded behind, pony-traps and governess-carts.
"Many people, well-dressed and belonging obviously to the well-to-do bourgeoisie, were wheeling barrows like costers, but instead of trundling cabbages were pushing forward sleeping babies and little children, who seemed on the first stage of the journey to find a new amusement and excitement in this journey from home. But for the most part the people were on foot.
"They trudged along-oh, so bravely ! - carrying their babies and holding the hands of their little ones. They were of all classes, rank and fortune being annihilated by this common tragedy. Elegant women, whose beauty is known in the Paris salons, whose frivolity perhaps in the past was the main purpose of their life, were now on a level with the peasant mothers of the French suburbs, and with the midinettes of Montmartre - and their courage did not fail them so quickly.
It was a tragic road. At every mile of it there were people who had fainted on the roadside. And poor old people who could go no further but sat on the banks below the hedges weeping silently on bidding the younger ones go forward and leave them to their fate.
"Young women who had stepped out so jauntily 'at first were footsore and lame, so that they limped along with lines of pain about their lips and eyes. Many of the taxi-cabs, bought at great prices, and many of the motor-cars had broken down as I passed, and had been abandoned by their owners, who had decided to walk.
Farmers' carts had jolted into ditches and lost their wheels. Wheelbarrows, too heavy to trundle, had been tilted up, with all their household goods spilt into the roadway, and the children had been carried further, until at last darkness came, and their only shelter was a haystack in a field under the harvest moon."
THE WAITING MILLIONS
But in spite of these scenes of flight, there remained in the city some two million inhabitants to face whatever might come, with calmness and courage. Cafe's still remained open and still had customers. Newspapers were still produced, although reduced, by decree, to one edition a day. There was abundant evidence that Parisians refused to consider the city as doomed. The defence might last a very long time, and in any case the enemy would have a stupendous task.
In the face of danger the city seemed, to those in it, to take on a new beauty. The great avenues, with but few vehicles and pedestrians, looked unusually dignified and majestic under the brilliant sun and cloudless sky of those late summer days. Still more romantic was the aspect at night, with the dim lights everywhere, instead of the usual blaze. Never did Paris look so mysterious and wonderful, a city waiting in tragic beauty for a great blow.
During these days the final preparations for the military defence of Paris were being pushed forward silently and swiftly by General Gallieni, who had been appointed Governor. His stirring proclamation inspired courage. "Army of Paris. Inhabitants of Paris. The members of the Government of the Republic have left Paris in order to give new impetus to the national defence. I have received the order to defend Paris against the invader. This order I shall fulfill to the end."
AN ENTRENCHED CAMP
Probably but few of the countless visitors from other countries to France's beautiful capital have ever realised that the city is a huge modern fortress, ringed around with a wonderful chain of forts said to be impregnable. Perhaps even Parisians had forgotten this although now they were reminded in a striking way of their existence. Of the triple chain of forts; the outer ring has a circumference of nearly 100 miles, the fortresses extending from west to east across a distance of 30 miles (from Many, beyond Versailles to Chelles), and from north to south (from Domont to Palaisean), a radius of 23 miles. So long as these outer forts could hold out, the city itself would be free from bombardment, and accordingly the Governor's energies were directed upon them. The outskirts of the city were turned into a huge entrenched camp. Earthworks and trenches were constructed everywhere between the batteries and forts, and miles of barricades and barbed-wire entanglements were placed in position. A very drastic, but necessary step was the demolition of hundreds of buildings - private houses, factories, churches - which might have obstructed the fire of the guns and also given cover to the enemy. For days the air resounded with explosions caused by the blowing up of these buildings by the military engineers, and the value of the property so destroyed must have been enormous.
THE STOUT PARISIAN HEART
Preparations such as these were watched with interest and much sang froid by the Parisians. The streets were filled with the soldiers of the garrison army, and the constant dashing to and fro of military and armoured motor-cars gave yet another touch of actual warfare in the very midst of the capital. The task of provisioning Paris also provided the citizens with a further sensation. One can imagine with what feelings they looked upon the sight of the Bois de Boulogne turned into a cattle farm! For days great herds of oxen and sheep were driven in from the country and quartered in the park which is the pride of Paris, and also in many adjacent open spaces. Huge supplies of wheat had been hurried in from the time that the war began, and in the matter of fresh greenstuff Paris was well supplied by the numerous market-gardens which lie on the outskirts of the town, just within the outer ring of forts. Nevertheless how long the supplies would last seemed an uncertain quantity. On the other hand, it was evidently the opinion of those in authority that any siege would not be a long one. A decision one way or the other would probably be inevitable in a short time.
Elaborate precautions were also taken for the protection of the monuments, and art treasures of Paris. Many of the chief buildings were prepared to resist shells. The treasures of the museums, galleries and libraries were, in most cases, removed to vaults and other strong holds remote from the possibility of bombs.
AN AGONY OF SUSPENSE
At the Louvre special steel rooms were constructed in which the Venus de Milo, the Gioconda, and other priceless antiques were all placed. Vast barricades of sacks of earth and sand were placed in position upon the roofs and around the rooms where the most valuable objects had been deposited. This system of steel and earth screens was also adopted at the Luxembourg and other famous art repositories. In addition, some of the more portable of the city's treasures were removed to distant parts of the country and securely hidden.
For a fortnight Paris lived in this agony of suspense. The movement of the German right flank to the east somewhat relieved the anxiety, but not until the battle of the Marne had been fought and won was the menace of invasion over, for the time being. But as the enemy was slowly rolled back by the Allies into its entrenchments along the Aisne, Parisians breathed more freely. True, the enemy was still only sixty miles distant, at the nearest point from the city to the firing line, but he was securely held there. Trains began to run once more to the coast, and life in the city resumed its usual course, as much as it had done since the war began. But the great shadow of siege would assuredly remain always in the memory of all those who lived through that tragic fortnight in Paris, and the city itself would bear traces of it for long.
