The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-11-14
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DAYS OF THE COMMUNE.
Archibald Forbes Describes His Expert
ence in Paris.


ence in Paris.
A spectator of street fighting during the
Commune, in his concluding article, pro-
fCsely illustrated. in the November Century,
on his thrilling experiences during the Paris
Commune. the celebrated correspondent re-
lates the following dramatic incident: For
another hour or more my neighbors the
Communists. who had been reinforced, gave
pause to the Fersail.ist effort to descend the
Boulevard Haussmann. and were holding
their own against the Versaillist fire from
the Church of the Trinity and the barricade
on the rise of the Rue Lafayette. The house
at the right -hand corner of the Rue de la
Chaussee d'Anttn and the Rue LAFAYETTE
the house whose projecting gable was my
shelter-had caught fire, to my disouetude
and discomfort; but before the fire should
seriously trouble me the impending
crisis would probably be over. Furious
around. About the opera-house it was
especially fierce. / had glimpses of
fighting at close quarters In the
open space before lis rear front, and could
discern men shuffline along behind the low
parapet of Its roof. They carried packs, but
l could not see their breeches, and it was not,
therefore, wholly certain that they were
Versaillists. A woman had Joined me in nv
position behind the gable-a woman who
seemed TO have charmed life. Over and
looked deliberately about her, and came
back to recount to me with excited volu-
blity, the particulars Of what she had seem
She was convinced the soldiers on the roof
were Versaillists: yet, rs / pointed out to
her, the drapeau rouge still waved above
the statue on the summit Of the lofty build
ing. The people of the hotel in our rear
clearly shared her belief. Gathered timidlv
in the porte c0chere, they were CRYING
'BravoP and clapping their hands, because
they hoped and believed the Versaillists
were winning
1.-The woman was right: they were Yer
sailiiSt llnesmen whom we saw OH the
parapet of the opera-houSe. There was a
cheer; the people of the hotel ran out into
the fire. waving handkerchiefs ana clap
ping their hands. The tricolor was waving
above the hither portico. The red flag
waved still on the farther elevation. A
ladder. ladder to reach it, was the ex-
cited cry from the group behind me; but
for the moment no ladder was procurable
As we waited, there darted down the
boulevard TO the corner of the Rue Haleyy
little grig Of fellow in red breeches-one
Of the old French linesmen breed. He was
all alone, and appeared to enjoy the loneli-
ness as he took up his post behind tree,
and fired his first shot at Communard
dodglng about the intersection of the
Rue Taitbout When is q Frenchman not
dramatic? He fired with an air; he reloaded
with an air; he fired again with flourish.
and was greeted with cheering and hand
clappng from the gallery behind me, to
which the little fellow was playing. Then
he beckoned US back dramatically. for his
next shot was to be sped up Rue Lafayette,
at a little knot of communists who, from q
fragment OF shelter at the intersection of
the Rue Lafitte, were taking him for their
target Then he faced about and waved
his comrades on with exaggerated gestures
which recalled those one sees In blood
and-thnnder melodrama. the communist
bullets all the while cutting the bark aud
branches OF the tree which was his cover,
All! he was down! Well, he had enjoved
his flash OF recklessness. The woman by
my side and darted across and carried him
in. We might have spared ourselves the
trouble and risk; he was dead. with bullet
through his head"