[Illustration: ABBE DEGUERRY. A Martyr of the Commune.]
Socialists of a later date, in their shame over the excesses of their party, have endeavored to excuse their actions; but the cold facts of history stand unshaken to condemn them, and to point out the sort of destiny to which practical socialism must inevitably lead.
The Commune was an orgy of dissipation. Its officials, to compensate themselves for their services, sat down to banquets worthy of Sardanapalus, where there was no lack of the wines of Beaune and Màcon, nor of litres of cognac, nor of routs unmentionable. The simple National Guards gorged themselves with wine and alcohol, while the common people looked on and howled their approbation and applause. There were women in their ranks, dressed as men, who feared neither sword nor rifle, and to whom in their unsexed condition the horrors of bloodshed and conflagration acted as intoxicating draughts of burning absinthe.
The Commune was above all an explosion of rage against religion and the middle classes. All who in any way represented religion or the social order--priests, magistrates, soldiers, police--were arrested and cast into prison as "hostages." The Archbishop of Paris, Mgr. Darboy; M. Bonjean, President of the Tribunal; M. Deguerry, Pastor of the Madeleine; the Jesuits; the Fathers of Picpus; the Dominicans; the Sulpicians, and other priests, besides an entire convent of religious women, were confined in the various jails of the city. The Commune imprisoned about 5000 persons, both lay and clerical. At the same time it laid hands upon the property of the churches, sacked the Archbishop's palace, and turned the churches to sacrilegious and scandalous uses.
Feeling at length that its victory could only be short-lived, and that Paris must soon fall before the army of MacMahon, surrounding it from without, the Commune began its campaign of destruction of the city itself. Vast quantities of petroleum were procured, and tons of gun-powder were made the instruments for furthering this end. On the night of May 21, the army of Versailles made a breach in the walls, the savage instincts of the mob were loosened and the "bloody week" began. Cluseret, the International, had already written: "It is we, or nothing! Paris will be ours, or it will cease to exist." The Commune accomplished as much as it could of this sinister programme.