The Sun.
London, England, 1841-01-04 00:00:00

A PARIS MOB MAD

From the Memoirs of Mi Guisquet, Prefect of Police

in 1832.) •
The cholera was beginning to rage, and already car-
ried all wore than one hundred persons daily, in the
capital. The populace, terrified at the peculiar symp-
toms of this fearful malady, was inclined to seek a cause
for the disease independent of the disease itself ; and
there arose a rumour, which spread like lightning
through Paris, attributing these terrible effects to poison.
The masses, ready for all impressions in moments of
excitement, were readily persuaded that the fountains
and provisions were so tainted, by men employed for
the purpose. Suddenly, whilst, in the further quarters
of Paris, the mob were yet breaking and burning the
Scavengers' carts, immense assemblages formed on the
quays, on the Place de Greve, in the Faubourg Saint-
Antoine, in the city, and at various other points.
'Thence, they invaded the streets St. Denis and St.
Martin, and the Halles; and never, perhaps, was there
seen in P.iris so frightful and numerous a mob,—mad-
darted by the dread of poison, and rushing in search
i the authors of these imaginary crimes. Ever)
person seen with battles, phials, or small packets, be-
came an object of insane suspicion ; and a simple flacon
was received as convicting evidence by the delirious mul-
itude. My agents could not be at all points at oncv,
to stem the fury of these innumerable hosts of men,—
bare-armed and gaunt-visaged—such as are rarely seen
save in moments like these ; and which appeared, on
that day, to issue forth, as it were, from beneath the
pavement. Willing to judge for myself of the truth
of the alarming reports which reached me, I traversed
alone, on foot, and with great difficulty, these mighty
tuasses of half-clad beings ; and no words can describe
their hideous appearance, or do justice to the impres-
sion of terror conveyed by their fierce and hollow mur-
murs. Though not easily shaken, yet, for a moment, 1
trembled for the city—for the lit es and properties of its
respectable citizens. If the popular frenzy, instead of
venting itself in acts of individual atrocity, had been di.
rected to objects of plunder and revolution, it is impos-
sible to say what might have been the extent of the devas-
tation. No doubt the public authority would have tri-
umphed iu the end, but only by resorting to means the
most energetic, and at the price of melancholy sacrifices.
A young roar, employed in the ministry of the Inte-
rior, a relation of M. Delortne, was massacred in tho
Rue St. Denis, on suspicion of having thrown poison
imo the vessels of a wine merchant. Another was
torn to pieces, on the same pretext, in the Quartier des
Hades. A third victim, assassinated on the Place
de Greve, was flung, dying, into the river. The mob
tore, from the post at the hotel de Ville, whither
he had tied for shelter, a wretched man, whom
they slaughtered in an instant ; and a person, described
to me us being a coal-heaver, actually set his dog to
tear to pieces the body of this murdered victim. In the
village of Vaugiraal, the populace pursued two men,
on whom this suspicion had fallen, and who succeeded in
gaining the shelter of the Mayor's house. But the Ma-
gistrate's abode was violated and invaded, and one of
these unfortunates, a commercial traveller, mercilessly
slaughtered. A similar scene, to which the sante de-
nouement appeared certain, occurred in the Fabourg
St. Antoine. Two imprudent persons fled, pursued by
thousands of men, who accused them of having given a
poisoned tart to some children. The victims of this
charge concealed themselves within the guard-house ;
but it wes instantly surrounded, and the massacre of
the fugitives was inevitable, but for a happy inspiration,
which induced the Commissary of Police, and a retired
officer, who happened to be present, to break between
them the tart in question, and eat it, before the eyes of
the crowd. Their presence of mind converted the rage
of the multitude into mirth, so small a matter suffices,
at times, to excite, or allay, the popular rage !