LIBERTY & FRATERNITY

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1168, 1 July 1911, Page 16

LIBERTY & FRATERNITY

» ___ MAY-DAY IN PARIS.

(By EVELTN ISITT.)

"Liberie, Egalite, Fraternite," the three words staro at you from every Stateowned building in Paris—churches, galleries, museums, schools—till tho great truth is fairly hammered into your head that these are indeed the gods of tho •Republic.

Then you spend tho first of May in Paris, and you appreciate tho fact that the Frenchman, has a very fine sense of humour. At the same time you do not think that he should write jokes on the doors of his churches. Paris on the first of May is under martial rule, enforced if not declared.

May-Day is Labour Day for all Europe —it is the day on which internal trouble may come to a head. One remembers that when 1S!)3 brought around the centenary of the French revolution, a repetition of that cataclysm was prophesied for May 1, and many a citizen in France rejoiced when May 2, 18'J3 made a peaceful, uneventful appearance. This has been a troubled year in France—strikes upon strikes, and now a champagne war in tho south causing devastation that twenty years will hardly repair; and a war in Morocco strongly condemned by a large party here. I do not know if tho precautions taken this week by the authorities were greater than usual; they were certainly on a scale startling to a stranger from a peaceful, orderly country.

The Chief of Police, said "Figaro" on Mayday morning, had held a special council the day before. He had arranged for ten extra companies' of soldiers to bo brought into tho city; he would guard every great centre, every main boulevard and street, The C.G.T., tho Confederation Gcneralc do Travail, intended to hold demonstrations at tho Esplanade des Invalides and tho Place de la Concorde, tho two great open spaces almost facing each other on either side of the Seine; meeting to last one, two,- three hours, in the evening at the Riding School near St. Paul's Church, the heart of the onco famous troubled St. Aubornc district, a monster meeting 'was lo bo held to protest against the war. It seemed as if a visit to the Place do la Concorde and tho Esplanade that morning would bo well worth while, but at half-past eleven there was absolutely nothing to see, only the usual confused concourse of traffic in the Place, and tho Esplanade, which stretches from the magnificent Pont Alexandre to the Hotel des Invalide, five hundred yards away, a waste of grey pavement and elms set in long stiff rows was almost deserted.

Half an hour later the scene was changed. Five thousand soldiers were stationed in tho Esplanade, littlo men in loosely-hanging uniforms of red and faded blue, with upholstered epulettes of red wool,-.their arms stacked before them, their tinware accoutrements on the paved ground behind, big men in uniforms of red and blue, and buff, on big horses, horse guards, and splendid cuirassiers, with armour-plated chests and shining helmets, from which streamed long black tails, figures to charm the eyes of meissonier. In the background, among the elms, lurked groups of gendarmes, agents of peace as they are felicitously termed on occasions when not all authority is peaceful.

I met more of them, as I went to see what was happening further afield.' ''Voila les troupes," I heard one exclaim as ho came in sight of tho massed forces, betraying moro'excitement in his tone than could have been done by any English agent cf.peace.'

The gendarmes held the bridge, pending tho arrival of moro cavalry, and les troupes were in full force in the great Place do la Concorde, that historic square which was .built for pageantry, and which has seen pageants, incited, tho last ever looked on by the disdainful eyes of Robespierre, shattered, execrated, and stocial. Here the Allies camped in ISIS, and tho Prussians in 1871, and here on Monday the Government mado armed demonstration that tho pcoplo might not demonstrate.

Standing at tho foot of tho Placo by tho high parapet of the Seine, you look back across tho river .at the .'Chamber of Deputies near by, at the far-off burnished .dome of Napoleon's tomb, at,the Eiffel Tower, Jack's fairy bean-stalk, wrought of floating cobweb, and the gilded statues of tho Pont Alexandre, and then yon. turn to look right across the Placo to thelong-faeaded buildings at the far end, the Wall of the Tuililerics on the right, tho chestnut groves of tho Champs Elysees on tho left. In the middlo of the Place, almost where tho guillotine stood, is an Egyptian obelisk, that out-tops Cleopatra'anccdle, and ranged all round twelve heroic female figures, representing tho chief towns of France. From this point you can distinguish the black drapery, the ever-fresh funeral wreaths that forever show Strasburg, mourning for lost Alsace. The Place usually looks vast, gray, and colourless, but now it was brilliant. May Day, and summer, had come to the city with.a sudden blossoming of red, of bluo that was almost forget-me-not, of pale gold, with a foliage of dark blue and silver.

The drives through tho Place were kept clear for the motor-buses and cabs that passed continuously, but round all the ornamental spaces armed men kept close guard—soldiers of tho city, marines, Zouaves—in harem skirls, as tho crowd pointed out unkindly—horscguards and cuirassiers, gendarmes, threading tho Placo in brilliant lines, massed at tho leafy entrance to the Cours la Reine, and among the chestnuts of- the Champs Elysees, thousands of "comrade soldiers, forced to do polico duty," as the Socialists bitterly complained.

They wero thero at twelve, ready for a demonstration which might begin at two. They were there, still waiting, at two fifteen. So far, nothing had happened, but a courteous sergeant, an agent of peace, assured us that a demonstration would most likely bo made. By this time two thousand or moro people had gathered—onlookers merely, one supposed, for they had no appearance of being organised. One saw, perhaps, two or three red Socialist badges, whereas "Figaro" had prophesied that Paris would be atlamo with them.

If anything happened, we wanted to seo it. I had foregathered with a stranger, a Frenchwoman, from the provinces, ono of tho cleverest women I ever met, and wo kept near tho corner of -the place along 'which the demonstrators were to come in procession. The lady was not so much impressed as I with this military display. Always on holidays the troops wero called out, she saidj the French were so excitable, one never knew what might not happen. Thero was some excitement, somo small turmoil among a little crowd under tho chestnuts, but elsewhere no excitement, no movement, evcryono waiting, interested, expectant,' alert.

What did happen came quickly, and was ovor suddenly. Under the' trees there was shouting, a rush of men and gendarmes towards the Seine, a shot sounded, a little hasty crowd, and the gendarmes were around them, passing their hands liko lightning over a tall figure, searching him, and in tho twinkling of an eyo a woll-dro*sed man, handcuffed, was being marched back through the trees, an officer'of peace was being led to tho ambulance, wounded, but fortunately only slightly. Just about tho same time the gendarmes were routing a little column of demonstrators near the Tuilleries, and hero one officer of peace was stabbed in the back by an elderly man, who struck and fled.

The London police after that would have drive the crowd away. These soldiers and gendarmes contented themselves with keeping it on tho move, preventing any congregation. Only once in tho afternoon did the gendarmes disperse the little groups, coming at us with "Avancez! Avancoz!" driving us in a futile way across the footpath, then leaving us to wander into tho Placo once more to pursuo our investigations. Aflcr that wo mot only the cuirassiers. Charmingly direct was their method of saying "Move on," simply stringing out in a long line twenty abreast, and trotting at us. Wo saw them coming and wo went, but it did seem unfair that when wo retreafed to a raised refuge by a lanp-post, sacred to tho Umid pedestrian, they should put their horses at it, and climb straight at us there Wo went, then—how wo never remembered, but: it was quickly done, and then for a time we stood safely by the parapet on the river-bank, to watch •them clear the edge of the chestnut

groves in tho same way, splendidly picturesquo as they rode through tho trees, the sun shining on tho red and blue, and Hashing back from helmet and cuirass, from drawn sabre, too, on more than ouo occasion, but wo did not eco that, nor did the sight of those cantering horses give any impression of violence. Next day the "Daily Mail" had a sensational account of cavalry charges, and the arrest of that tall, well-dressed man was described in terms so thrilling that we, who had been in tho most interesting part of the Place all the lime, wondered if wo had been asleep, or if the "Daily Mail" man had been dreaming. The stage setting was striking; there was plenty of atmosphere, but, as a matter of fact, tho play lell flat. The cuirassiers did their work so thoroughly that any demonstration was impossible, and by half-past four tho cavalry were riding off to mount guard at various parts throughout tho city. We went on a tour of tho city to see how elaborately it had been done, how effectively every vantage ground had been occupied—every centre made vivid with blue and scarlet.

Me went shopping then, and, among spring hats, and summer silks, and eager shoppers, almost forgot tho soldiers, the wheeling cavalry, the tenso expectation, and the threat of disaster, and, coming homo along quiet streets in the twilight, wo said it. had been a dreahi. Paris was gay and happy, and complacent; no one had anywhere been afraid, and on tho thought came the steady tramp of feet as along this quiet street passed a blue and grey company, provisioned for the night.

So we spent the evening hours once more going round the city, finding tho soldiers still on duty, closely packed, by St. Paul, whero 'the"meeting was held in the street.

ihe first meeting of the dav had been held at eight a.m. in the Place de la Republique, with tho greatest gathering of workers known for five years. There had been speeches, not inflammatory, revolutionary songs had licen sung in presence of a largo military force. It was to have been the prelude to the afternoon demonstrations, which did not come off. The evening meeting was more inflammatory, but it dispersed quietly, the audience escorted homewards in little harmless groups by soldiers mounted or on foot, and it was with the last of tho crowd that tho most serious conflict of the day took place. " ! Next day's reports'were most confused. Exactly what had happened no ' one. seemed lo know. One paper made light of all; "Figaro" gave a painstakingly explicit account of the day's generally flat proceedings, and of individual outrages, while the "Daily Mail" gave a flaring, sensational account which made one feel as though war had been waged freely in the main streets. Certain it is that four agents of. peace wero wounded more or less seriously, and others injured, and an imposing, ceremony. took place next day, When the . tw : o men most injured were decorated with the Legion of Honour. The syndicalists are charged with tho outrages, if not officially, as individuals. "Syndicalism," wrote a former secretary of their society next day, "is the association of various professional groups of workers, bound together among themselves without distinction of opinions, political, religious, or philanthropic, to ameliorate the conditions of labour." Then he went on to say how a spirit of anarchy had crept in, until now such outrages as had taken .place on tho previous day had become possible.

Now Paris is calm, and once more one finds the chief interest.. in churches, and galleries where one reads as ever the complacent inscription,, the motto of this great Republic—Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.