Percy B. St. John:
Percy B. St. John was an eyewitness to the events herein described, and the
following were taken from his notes compiled at the time.
Tuesday, February 22.
The journals of the opposition appeared with the notice,
in large letters, at the head of their papers, that the banquet was given up, and an
appeal to the population of Paris to keep order, formed a very prominent part of the
announcement. The Left were evidently alarmed, while ministers were confident and their
journals sang a triumphant song of victory. From an early hour detachments of municipal
guard, troops of the line and cavalry, were seen moving toward the boulevards and the
Chamber of Deputies; it became known that heavy squadrons of cavalry had entered Paris
during the night, while others were concealed within the Hippodrome, or were bivouacked
round the fortifications. The spies of the government reported during the night that there
was a total absence of conspiracy....
The weather was disagreeable, even wet. A somber and threatening sky hung over the
town, but from six in the morning the boulevards presented an animated appearance. Crowds
of workingmen, of shopkeepers, began to move toward the Church of the Madeleine, in front
of which the procession was to have met and formed. Many were not aware that the banquet
was given up, and went to witness the departure of the cortege, while those who knew that
the opposition had abandoned their intention of holding the meeting, went with a vague
desire to see what would happen. Hundreds went with a settled determination to bring
things to an issue; for early on Tuesday morning I saw swords, and daggers, and pistols
concealed under the blouses of the workingmen.......
Between nine and ten I walked to the Place de la Madeleine. It was covered with knots
of men and women of all classes, talking, whispering, looking about with a vague air of
uncertainty and alarm....
The neighborhood of the Chamber of Deputies were then occupied militarily. A strong
force was placed upon the Pont de la Concorde, and on attempting to pass, I and others
were driven back by the military. No one was allowed to cross save deputies, who carried
their medals, or persons bearing tickets. The other approaches to the legislature were
equally well guarded. Between the Quai d'Orsay and the lnvalides, two regiments of the
line and six pieces of artillery were stationed.
Meanwhile, everywhere the crowd increased; all Paris seemed moving to the boulevards,
to the Madeleine, to the Champs Elysees, and to the Place de la Concorde. As yet there was
no menacing aspect in the masses, many artisans, with their wives on their arms, hung
about looking on and listening. Not a policeman in uniform was seen, but many a mouchard face could be distinguished in the crowd.
About ten o'clock, a considerable body of workmen, and young men belonging to the
different schools of Paris collected on the Place du Pantheon, and set out for the
Madeleine by the Rues St. Jacques, des Gres, the Pont Neuf, the Rue St. Honore, etc.,
crying as they went, Vive la Reforme, and singing the Marseillaise and the chant of the
Girondins....
This procession, which had gradually swelled as it went, came out upon the boulevards
by the Rue Duphot, and as they passed, it was impossible not to admire the courage of this
body of young men, who, wholly unarmed, thus braved the strict orders of a government,
backed by an immense army and whole parks of artillery. They were liable at every moment
to be charged or fired on....
Having reached the Madeleine, the procession halted before the house in which the
central committee of the electors of the opposition were in the habit of assembling, and
asked for Barrot, who, however, was not there. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, up to the
time this procession passed before its door, had the gate open, with soldiers standing
before utterly unarmed....
An officer of dragoons advanced alone to a large group of spectators, who were
collected in the basin of one of the fountains, and begged them to retire, which many of
them at once did. A few persisted; but suddenly the water beginning to play, they jumped
out amid loud laughter. In fact, with few exceptions, the crowd, amidst whom were many
well-dressed ladies and gentlemen, were excessively good humored. The majority seemed
persuaded that the vast display of unarmed Parisians who had turned out would induce the
ministry to give way. The municipal guard, however, like the gendarrnes and Swiss of the
July Revolution, seemed doomed to mar all. This body, detested by the Parisians as police,
kept up continued charges upon the crowd as it gradually dispersed....
About twelve, passing by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I noticed, in the back court,
a heavy detachment of dragoons, in addition to which, soon after, the front door was
closed and guarded by numerous sentries. A powerful mob, with sticks and iron bars, strove
to burst open the gate and inflict summary vengeance on Guizot. The windows were broken
with stones. Loud cries of Vive la Reforme! were followed by a bas Guizot! A
single municipal guard strove to get out at the front gate, as if to go for a
reinforcement. He was pelted with stones and driven back within shelter of the hotel
[i.e., the Ministry].
About this time a most imposing military force marched down upon the hotel, which
assumed the air of a fortress. A line of soldiers, with their arms loaded and bayonets
fixed, occupied the pavement. The long garden wall was guarded by a cordon of troops, and
municipal guards on horseback stood before the door. These latter took up their position
with so much carelessness, as to knock down and severely wound one of the crowd. Shortly
after, one of these police having rushed out to seize a rioter, was unhorsed and severely
handled, after which he was taken to the same doctor's shop where was the wounded man of
the people. From that moment all disturbance finished on this point for the day, and
Guizot was able to go to the Chamber of Deputies. The passengers were in this neighborhood
compelled to turn out on to the carriage way, the whole pavement being occupied by
soldiers....
At this very time [about three], having returned to my residence to write a letter, I
was witness to a scene, which described minutely, may give an idea of many similar events.
My residence is situated in the Rue St. Honore.... Called to my window by a noise, I saw
several persons standing at the horses' heads of an omnibus. The driver whipped, and tried
to drive on. The people insisted. At length, several policemen in plain clothes
interfered, and as the party of the people was small, disengaged the omnibus, ordered the
passengers to get out, and sent the vehicle home amid the hootings of the mob. A few
minutes later, a cart full of stones and gravel came up. A number of boys seized it, undid
the harness, and it was placed instantly in the middle of the street, amid loud cheering.
A brewer's dray and hackney cab were in brief space of time added, and the barricade was
made. The passers-by continued to move along with the most perfect indifference....
Next door to me is an armorer's. Suddenly the people perceived the words Prelat,
armourier, over the door. A rush is made at his shutters, stones are raised at his
windows, and those of the house he occupied, many of which smash the panes in neighboring
houses. Every window is, however, filled by anxious spectators. Suddenly the shutters of
the shop give way, they are torn down and borne to the barricade, while the windows being
smashed, the people rush into the warehouse. There are no arms! The night before they have
been removed or concealed. Still, a few horns of gunpowder, and some swords and pistols
are taken. Though the mob was through the whole of the vast hotel, a portion of which was
occupied by the armorer, nothing but arms were taken away....
On Wednesday, however, it was impossible to conceal from the Iiing that the movement
was general, that the people were flying to arms, that barricades were rising in every
quarter, and worse than all, the colonels of the national guard reported, one after
another, that their men demanded, nay, insisted on the dismissal of Guizot. The generals
of the line were interrogated. Not one would answer for the troops if the national guard
sided with the people. The saying of an artillery officer near the Hotel de Ville was
reported "Fire on the people? No! Fire on the people who pay us? We shall do nothing
of the kind. If we have to choose between massacring our brothers and abandoning the
monarchy, there can be no hesitation." Louis Philippe saw the critical nature of the
position, and hesitated no longer. Guizot and his colleagues were dismissed......
Toward seven o'clock, the general aspect of Paris was peaceable. On the Petit Bourse,
near the Opera, the funds had risen forty centimes on the arrival of the news that the
ministry had been dismissed. Aides-de-camp and general officers galloped here and there,
proclaiming the intelligence. Everywhere the people delivered the prisoners made during
the day, and then they went away rejoicing.
Nevertheless, the barricades were not abandoned. The strongest and most artistically
made were guarded by some hundreds of young men, between the Rue du Temple and the Rue St.
Martin, and about the Rue Transnonain. Though repeatedly told of the dismissal of Guizot,
they replied that they must have guarantees, and with this they posted sentries at every
issue, and prepared to bivouac for the night, many without food, many without fire. Among
these were numbers of the better classes, who had placed blouses over their clothes and
joined the people, to encourage and direct them.
Between eight and nine o'dock, darkness having completely set in, the streets began to
present an unusual aspect---that of an illumination. With rare erceptions, at every window
of the lofty houses on the quarter of the Tuileries, candles or lamps were placed, and by
their light could be seen ladies and gentlemen looking down upon the dense and happy crowd
who filled the streets to overflowing. Loud cheers greeted the presence of the spectators,
while groans and threats of demolishing their windows were the punishment of the sulky few
who refused to join in the genera1 manifestation. They gained nothing by it but to let
their ill will be seen, for the populace compelled them to follow the general example.
All, however, was gayety and good humor.
After witnessing the fine coup-d'oeil presented by the Rue St. Honore, the
longest street in the world, I believe, I attempted to gain the boulevards by the Place
Vendome. I found it, however, occupied by a dense mass of some ten thousand men, who were
striving to force the denizens of the Hotel de Justice to light up. As no attention was
paid to their demand, and Hebert [minister of Justice] was peculiarly hated, they began to
break his windows, and even set fire to the planks which shelved off from the door, as
well as to the sentry box. A heavy body of cuirassiers however, and several detachments of
national guards came down, and using vigorous, but gentle measures, re-established order.
To lessen the crowd, they drew a line across the Rue Castiglione, and allowed no one to
pass. Standing in the crowd, I heard many republicans conversing. Their tone was that of
bitter disappointment. They said that the people were deceived, that a Molé ministry was
a farce, and that if the populace laid down their arms, it would be but to take them up
again. Still, the majority rejoiced. To have carried this point was a geat thing, and no
greater proof of the patriotism of the workingmen can be given. They gained nothing by the
change but mental satisfaction, with which a vast majority seemed amply satisfied.
But a terrible and bloody tragedy was about to change the aspect of the whole scene....
Wednesday, February 23d.
About a quarter past ten, while on my way, by another
route, to the boulevards, I suddenly, with others, was startled by the aspect of a
gentleman who, without his hat, ran madly into the middle of the street, and began to
harangue the passersby. "To arms!" he cried, "we are betrayed. The soldiers
have slaughtered a hundred unarmed citizens by the Hôtel des Capucines. Vengeance!"
and having given the details of the affair, he hurried to carry the intelligence to other
quarters. The effect was electric; each man shook his neighbor by the hand, and far and
wide the word was given that the whole system must fall.
As this tragic event sealed the fate of the Orleans dynasty, I have been at some pains
to collect a correct version of it, and I have every reason to believe those who were
eyewitnesses will bear me out in my description. I went immediately as near to the spot as
possible, I conversed to numerous parties who saw it, and myself saw many of the immediate
consequences.
The boulevards were, like all the other streets, brilliantly illuminated, and
everywhere immense numbers of promenaders walked up and down, men, women, and children,
enjoying the scene, and rejoicing that the terrific struggle of the day had ceased. The
footpaths were quite covered, while the carriage way, in part occupied by cavalry, was
continually filled by processions of students, working men, and others, who sang songs of
triumph at their victory. Round the Hôtel des Capucines, where Guizot resided, there was
a heavy force of military, of troops of the line, dragoons, and municipal guard, who
occupied the pavement and forced everyone on to the carriage way. A vast crowd,
principally of accidental spectators, ladies, gentlemen, English, etc., in fact curious
people in general, were stationed watching a few men and boys who tried to force the
inmates to light up.
For some time all was tranquil, but presently a column of students and artisans,
unarmed, but singing "Mourir pour la patrie," came down the boulevards;
at the same instant a gun was heard, and the 14th Regiment of Line leveled their muskets
and fired. The scene which followed was awful. Thousands of men, women, children,
shrieking, bawling, raving, were seen flying in all directions, while sixty-two men,
women, and lads, belonging to every class of society, lay weltering in their blood upon
the pavement. Next minute an awful roar, the first breath of popular indignation was
heard, and then flew the students, artisans, the shopkeepers, all, to carry the news to
the most distant parts of the city, and to rouse the population to arms against a
government whose satellites murdered the people in this atrocious manner.
A squadron of cuirassiers now charged, sword in hand, over dead and wounded, amid
useless cries of "Mind the fallen," and drove the people before them. The sight
was awful. Husbands were seen dragging their fainting wives from the scene of massacre;
fathers snatching up their children, with pale faces and clenched teeth, hurried away to
put their young ones in safety, and then to come out in arms against the monarchy. Women
clung to railings, trees, or to the wall, or fell fainting on the stones. More than a
hundred persons who saw the soldiers level, fell in time to save their lives, and then
rose and hastened to quit the spot. Utter strangers shook hands and congratulated one
another on their escape.
In a few minutes, a deputy of the opposition, Courtais, now commanding the national
guard, was on the spot and making inquiries into the cause of this fearful affair.
"Sir," said he, warmly addressing the colonel in command, "you have
committed an action, unworthy of a French soldier." The Colonel, overwhelmed with
sorrow and shame, replied, that the order to fire was a mistake. It appeared that a ball,
from a gun which went off accidentally, had struck his horse's leg, and that thinking he
was attacked, he had ordered a discharge. "Monsieur le Colonel," added the
honorable deputy, "you are a soldier, I believe in your good faith; but remember that
an awful responsibility rests on your head." Tremendous indeed, for he had sealed the
fate of the tottering monarchy!
A word before we proceed. When the proclamation was made that the Guizot ministry had
been dismissed, the military were gradually withdrawn, and wherever this occurred,
tranquillity followed. No serious attacks were made upon any public building; in fact, the
people contented themselves with breaking a few windows; everywhere the cry "Light
the lamps," was not obeyed. Guizot, however, conscious of the intense hatred which
was felt toward him, kept his house guarded like a fortress. The display of military force
was tremendously imposing, both within and without the hoel. Had none been stationed
outside, whatever he had in, the causes which kept crowds standing round, would have been
removed, and the people would not have been irritated. It was the overcare of his own
person shown by Guizot, which caused this frightful catastrophe. Like every other event of
this great week, with all its momentous consequences, this is to be traced to the utter
incapacity of Guizot, in politics....
Meanwhile, Courtais had hurried to the National office, while a body of men, now
no longer hindered by the soldiers, proceeded to remove the heaps of dead and dying, whose
groans must have been plainly heard by the ex-minister in his hotel. The wounded, and
those bodies which were claimed, were borne to houses in the neighborhood, while some of
the national guards in uniform were carried to their respective town halls, everywhere as
the bloody banner of insurrections. Seventeen corpses, however, were retained and placed
upon a cart. Ghastly was the spectacle of torch and gaslight, of that heap of dead, a few
minutes before alive, merry, anxious, full of hopes, and perhaps, lofty aspirations for
their country. Round about were men, no less pale and ghastly, bearing pikes and torches,
while others drew the awful cartload along.
Source:
From: Percy B. St. John, The French Revolution of 1848: The Three Days of
February, 1848, (New York, 1848), pp. 72-84, 104-110.
Scanned by Jerome S. Arkenberg, Cal. State Fullerton.
This text is part of the Internet
Modern History Sourcebook. The Sourcebook is a collection of public domain and
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