Map of Paris in 1889. In the early 20th century, as the city underwent rapid expansion, the decision was made to demolish the outdated fortifications that encircled the city.
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Paris, with its grand boulevards, iconic landmarks, and rich cultural heritage, captures visitors and residents alike. Yet, beneath its glamorous façade lies a lesser-known aspect of its history—the Zone. The wide boulevards that run in circles were once moats and defensive ditches surrounding the walls. Names such as Porte de Clichy or Porte Saint-Denis, now mere metro stations, recall the former gates to the French capital.
Permanent construction was prohibited within 250 metres (55 yards) of the fortifications. Outside the protective walls, a no-man’s-land emerged, inhabited by those on the fringes of society. Over time, this area became known as the Zone. This was a place where the destitute and outcasts found shelter amidst poverty and squalor. Rag pickers, beggars, and other marginalized groups eked out a living in makeshift dwellings constructed from scavenged materials. These offered little protection from the elements. Urban amenities such as street lighting or running water were missing.
ies such as street lighting or running water were missing
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The Zone was a fertile ground for crime and violence, as gangs and thugs roamed the streets with impunity. It was a lawless wasteland, with little hope for a brighter future. The city’s efforts to maintain order and protect its citizens were constantly challenged by the criminal activities originating from the Zone, making it a significant concern for the overall well-being of Paris. The Zone housed the cheapest eating places, the roughest bars, and was the working domain of prostitution dregs. (See the post The Fortification Whore below.)
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A rag picker
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Crime was not the only danger emerging from the Zone. The activity of rag pickers worried the authorities as they carried and spread various diseases. Rag pickers relied on scavenging for their livelihood, combing through the streets, alleys, and garbage dumps of Paris. They searched for discarded items that could be salvaged, repaired, or sold. They collected everything from rags and bones to metal scraps and discarded furniture, transforming what others saw as waste into commodities. Long hours spent scavenging through garbage heaps, exposure to unsanitary conditions, and the constant threat of illness were part and parcel of their existence. The child mortality rate in these parts was four times that of the healthier parts of the city.
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Sorting the scavenged material
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The Commission for Unsanitary Housing of the Department of the Seine produced a report for 1851 that uses the terms of a report from 1832. The situation does not seem to have changed in twenty years:
Most are busy sorting, during the day, the product of their nocturnal rounds, squatting around this dirty loot. They pile up in every corner, and even under their bunks, bones, old linens soiled with mire, whose fetid miasmas spread in the middle of these hideous garrets, where often a space of less than two square meters serves as shelter to a whole family.
Rag pickers had to be adept at finding solutions to challenges, whether it was repairing broken items, repurposing materials, or devising innovative ways to make ends meet. For instance, they kept records of weddings and other celebrations. After such gatherings, the ground was a source of cigarette butts and cigar stumps. The remaining tobacco was meticulously extracted and recycled. Discarded food, too, could be a source of income. The post Poor and Hungry in Paris: Gambling Eateries and Harlequin Luxury Food describes this industry.
Despite their vital role in recycling and waste management, rag pickers were viewed as social outcasts, relegated to the fringes of society. Their bags could contain stolen items, and they sometimes did. This social stigma only served to further isolate and marginalize them, making it even more challenging to escape the cycle of poverty and deprivation.
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The recycled goods on sale
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The history of the Zone offers a sobering glimpse into the darker corners of Parisian society, where poverty and exclusion were stark realities for many.
In the bustling streets of 19th-century Paris, Honoré Daumier emerged as a keen observer of the human condition, using his artistic prowess to capture the essence of a society in flux. Born in Marseille in 1808, Daumier’s journey through life and art left an indelible mark on the world of satire and social commentary.
Daumier’s early life was marked by financial struggles, yet it laid the foundation for his deep empathy towards common people. Born into a lower-middle-class family, he showed early artistic promise, catching the attention of a local sculptor who became his first mentor.
Moving to Paris in his teens, Daumier immersed himself in the vibrant artistic scene of the time. His breakout moment came with his contributions to the satirical journal “La Caricature.” Daumier’s biting caricatures, often featuring politicians, lawyers, and other figures of authority, quickly gained popularity. The boldness of his satire and his ability to unveil the truth through humor set Daumier apart as a fearless social commentator.
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King Louis-Philippe
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Notably, his relentless lampooning of King Louis-Philippe and his government led to Daumier’s arrest and imprisonment in 1832. Though the charges were eventually dropped, this incident highlighted Daumier’s commitment to using art as a weapon against injustice.
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In the Omnibus While photography was in its infancy and needed long exposures, Daumier’s drawings are snapshots of everyday life
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Daumier’s transition to painting marked a profound shift in his artistic journey. His artwork is marked by emotional intensity, capturing the hardships experienced by common folk. Daumier’s ability to convey the essence of human emotions shine through in these powerful works.
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The Laundress
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The Third-Class Carriage
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In The Third-Class Carriage Daumier explores the dignity of ordinary people, often neglected by the elites. By a deft manipulation of light and shadow, Daumier transforms an ordinary train carriage scene into a reflection on humanity’s enduring strength.
But Daumier was also a man of his time. His series of lithographs titled “Les Bas-Bleus” (Bluestockings) reflects the nascent feminism of the era, and he had no respect for women who did not conform to their social role as wives and mothers.
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She: “A woman like me… put a button back on?… you’re crazy!… Les Bas-Bleus series No. 28 , Le Charivari, May 23, 1844.
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“The mother is in the heat of composition, the child is in the water of the bathtub! », series Les Bas-Bleus , Le Charivari, February 26, 1844.
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Honoré Daumier died in1879. In his creative life span, he captured the essence of a society in transition at a time marked by political turbulence, social inequality, and the rise of the common man.
The romanticized story of Casque d’Or has become part of Parisian folklore. As the trailer shows, the core of this 1952 French film classic is a love triangle between a gigolette and two Apaches. (If the vocabulary is confusing, you are a newcomer to this website. Gigolettes and Apaches, members of the specialized Parisian fauna, are described in separate posts – see below.)
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The plot of the movie was inspired by an actual criminal case, and the film release was briefly delayed by the widower of the real-life Casque d’Or in a judicial attempt to preserve his late wife’s reputation. While love and mutual sympathy were also present, the actual motive of the gang war was the control of a valuable asset: a profitable prostitute. Loss of income and the gang leaders’ honor played a significant role in the case. .
The true actors of the story
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Who truly was this Casque d’Or, a prostitute two gangs fought over with bloody results? And what does Casque d’Or mean?
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Amelie Ellie portrayed on one of the postcards that sold at profit when she reached fame. She was called Casque d’Or (Golden Helmet) because she sported a chignon of abundant blond hair.
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Amélie Élie was born in 1878 to a tinsmith’s family domiciled in Orleans. She discovered Paris when her parents settled in the 11th arrondissement. It was a working-class neighborhood, where children’s life expectancy was seven times lower than in healthier parts of the city, and where one girl in ten ended up as a prostitute, the highest rate in the capital.
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Amelie “writing” her memoir: My Days and Nights as the Casque d’Or, the Queen of Apaches
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According to her memoir, collected by journalist Henri Frémont, the precocious girl started a relationship at thirteen with a 15-year-old boy nicknamed “the Matelot” (Sailor). Found at the Hôtel des Trois Empereurs, they were separated by force. The young lovers divided their time between reformatories and escapes. The love adventure lasted a year. After several attempts at correcting their daughter’s behavior, Amélie’s parents gave up.
At fourteen, Amélie Élie lost her mother and found herself on the streets. She abandoned her boyfriend, and preferred the more comforting company of a prostitute, who called herself Hélène de Courtille. The little girl and the woman became friends and lovers. Amélie adapted to Paris at night and to the world of thugs and pimps.
In a bistro called La Pomme au Lard, Amélie met her next companion, Bouchon. Tired of Hélène’s jealousy, Amélie let herself fall into his arms, or rather, onto his corner of the sidewalk. In her memoir, Amélie praises the Parisian prostitute to whom she attributes a humanitarian role. The prostitute “provides dreams for men” and “relieves wives and saves families”. She takes in “young clerks and pampers them in her arms” and thus plays an economic role by “promoting public wealth circulation ”.
Bouchon set a daily quota for Amélie. He became demanding and violent. One evening, when Amélie was nineteen, she was beaten by Bouchon and an acolyte. He criticized her for taking time out for herself. She fled the brute and drifted across the city for several days until she met Joseph Pleigneur called Manda, a 22-year-old gang leader. Manda had a way with knives and when Bouchon claimed his rights to Amélie, he was stabbed.
Manda essentially made a living from his manual skills, manufacturing burglary tools. On the surface, he was a pleasant man to be around, but his long absences for business or other women annoyed Amélie. Instead of waiting for him at home, she returned to the streets and forgot her solitude there.
On her forays, Amélie Élie met Dominique François Eugène Lecac, better known as Leca. Manda reappeared, upset. He started hostilities by stabbing Leca. Manda was arrested, but was immediately released because Leca did not recognize him in front of the police. Among thugs, there was strict mutual silence when confronted with law and order.
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Criminal gang members, suspected of talking to the police, were separated from their noses in a surgery without anesthesia. Reporting a gang member was met with death.
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Manda was not done. He attacked the hotel where Leca and Amélie were staying. This time, no one was hurt, but war was declared. A pitched battle took place a week later between the Manda’s band and that of Leca’s. Leca took two revolver bullets in the arm and thigh. He refused medical help for three days before being treated at Tenon hospital, where the police came to question him and before whom he observed the same law of silence.
During his cab ride home from the hospital, the Manda’s gang stabbed Leca three more times. The Manda-Leca affair was making headlines. A journalist from the Petit Journal, Arthur Dupin, was outraged: “These are Apache customs, from the Far West, unworthy of our civilization. For half an hour, in the middle of Paris, in the middle of the afternoon, two rival gangs fought over a girl from the fortifications, a blonde with a high bun, her hair styled like a dog!“
The police questioned Leca again and were met with the same silence. Leca’s father, who had already lost three other sons to violence, was exhausted by these incessant attacks on his son. He revealed Manda’s name, who then fled. After a week’s exile in London, Manda returned to Alfortville, where he was recognized, denounced and picked up by a detachment of around fifty police officers.
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Fame embraced Amélie. Press coverage rushed at full speed. Writers produced songs and plays with all their might. Painters asked Amélie to pose. Postcards with her portrait were produced. The Theatre Les Bouffes du Nord hired her to play herself in a drama.
Leca and Amélie benefited from this and lived off the unexpected income. A short-lived happiness, since the Manda-Leca battle continued. This time, Leca was no longer a victim. Researched for attempted murder, he sought refuge in Belgium, where he was arrested.
Large crowds attended Manda and Leca’s trials, mainly to see the famous Casque d’Or. Manda and Leca were sentenced to forced labor.
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Once a year, a ship took convicts to the penal colony of French Guyana, South America. Manda and Leca were aboard. Neither returned to France.
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Amélie’s fame quickly faded. She married André Alexandre Nardin, a shoemaker, and raised his four children. In 1925, the journalist Jacques Roberti found her running three brothels called “Les Rosiers”. Responding to his interview, she told him: “I have managed these establishments since their foundation. I have been at Les Rosiers for seven years. Never any scandal, never any noise. These gentlemen from the prefecture will tell you… Please say, if you write an article about me, that I am now a good wife and that I earn my living honestly.”
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Amélie died in April 1933 from an attack of asthma, aged 55. She is buried in the Pasteur cemetery in Bagnolet.
With the beginning of the 20th century, corsets began to die a slow death to be replaced by a bra. History of the bra offers us the name of Phillipe de Brassière, a Frenchman living in New York, who had the presence of mind to patent this revolutionary garment that liberated women from corset oppression. He was not, however, the father of the idea. The first bra must be credited to Herminie Cadolle, a Parisian corset-maker and, herself, a passionate revolutionary.
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Born in 1842, Cadolle, whose real name was Eugénie Sardon, was a woman of character. During the Commune revolution, she applauded the creation, on April 11, 1871, of the first mass women’s movement: the Unionof Women for the Defense of Paris and Care of the Wounded. Friend of radical revolutionaries such as Théophile Ferré, who ordered the execution of the Archbishop of Paris, she was imprisoned when the Commune was crushed by the French government. After her release, she opted for exile in Argentina, where she opened a successful fashion shop.
A supporter of women’s emancipation, Herminie was also convinced that it was necessary to extract them from the armor of the traditional corset. She had the idea of cutting the corset in two: a lower part to hold the abdomen, and an upper part to highlight the chest; this upper part was the ancestor of the bra. She returned to France to present her “corselet-gorge” called “Bien-Être” (Well-Being) during the Universal Exhibition of 1889. The first bra thus appeared the same year as the Eiffel Tower built for the exhibition.
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A refined bra model in white, pink, and blue was offered for sale in this 1905 catalog
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In 1910, Herminie Cadolle opened workshops and a boutique in Paris to continue her personal revolution. The house became one with modernity, creating the boyish flat-chested look called la garçonne (from garçon: boy) that marked 1920s fashion requiring short hair and a flattened chest. Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor, and Coco Chanel were among the clients of the Cadolle House.
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Fashion designer Coco Chanel modelling the garçonne look inspired by the Cadolle House
FASHION AND ITS DANGERS: Before the outbreak of WW1, huge hats were in fashion and many were decorated with birds. A hawk chose this stuffed pigeon for lunch.
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The Belle Époque, a period of optimism, innovation, and cultural flourishing that spanned from the late 19th century to the early 20th century, left an indelible mark on French society. The evolution of printed media from text-heavy newspapers to vivid pictures marked a pivotal shift. Illustrated supplements emerged as a powerful storytelling tool that captivated readers’ attention in ways traditional articles couldn’t.
For the first time in history, readers had access to visuals of political and social events around the globe, as well as of the faits divers, the miscellaneous facts of human interest. The pictures helped to expand readers’ understanding of the world.
These weekly supplements are more than just printed images; they are windows into the heart of a bygone era in its multiple aspects. Their wealth of period details is a treasure throve for historians, students, and researchers.
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The 1911 revolution marked the end of 2,132 years of imperial rule in China. Western powers were heavily involved in some aspects of the event. The readers of Le Petit Journal were treated to a wealth of exotic details. Notice the long fingernails of the mandarin in the center. It was a sign that his class was never involved in manual work.
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On a lighter note, the police are experiencing some difficulty during the arrest of a snake charmer.
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Police had no trouble recovering a watch that had been swallowed by a pickpocket. This scene is vividly described in my novel The Boarding House for Single Gentlemen. Weekly Illustrated are a source of inspiration for historical fiction writers.
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Sometimes, police intervention was not necessary, although these burglars would certainly prefer it.
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The Belle Epoque saw the emergence of assertive women. French suffragettes caused disturbances during the electoral process.
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POST CARS TERRORIZE PARIS, says the subtitle.
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Traffic accidents were common even for horse-drawn vehicles. In the early days of motoring, they were even more frequent due to the lack of safety regulations.
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In the absence of safety regulations, culture events were often held in unsafe conditions.
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A shocking true drama awaited this theatre audience. An actor had his throat cut during the performance.
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HEROIC PASSENGERS: In order not to overload the lifeboats filled with women and children, men let themselves sink.
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WINTER: Those who enjoy it – Those who suffer it Such images were awakening social conscience.
Revolutionaries ransacking the Tuileries Palace in 1848
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The recent unrest across France reminded me why this blog could not be called anything other than Victorian Paris. I remember one reader objecting to the title, asking what had Victoria to do with Paris? Well, the queen visited Paris with her husband and their oldest children, Vicky and Bertie. The family had a fantastic time and bonded quickly with Napoleon III and his wife, Eugenie. Bertie liked them so much that he begged to be adopted. Even though his wish was not granted, Paris became his lifelong playground.
Other than that, Victoria’s link to Paris is weak, indeed. But consider this: what else is on offer? Given Paris’ tumultuous 19th-century history, what could replace the Victorian period in readers’ minds? At any given time, there were various French monarchs and pretenders exiled in England. They were either taking tea with the queen, or plotting the overthrow of the current regime in France.
Here is a brief overview of Paris during Victoria’s long reign:
1837 (England) – On June 20th, Victoria, aged 18, becomes Queen of England, succeeding her uncle William IV.
1837 (France) After the brief July Revolution in 1830, Louis-Philippe, Duke of Orleans, was proclaimed King. He was the reigning monarch during Victoria’s throne ascent.
1848 (England) Princess Louise Caroline Alberta is born – Queen Victoria’s sixth child.
1848 (France) The February Revolution. After two days’ fighting, Louis Philippe flees to England, and the Second Republic is proclaimed. Crossing the Channel in the opposite direction is Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. He is the son of Louis Bonaparte, King of Holland and the nephew of the brilliant Corsican, the emperor Napoleon. After a successful electoral campaign, financed by an English courtesan, he is elected President of the French Republic.
1852 (England) The queen is pregnant with Prince Leopold George Duncan, her eighth child.
1852 (France) In December, Louis Napoleon stages a coup d’état to be elected emperor by universal suffrage. He adopts the title Napoleon III. A regime known as the Second Empire is established.
1870 (England) The queen actively mourns her husband, Prince Albert, who died of typhoid fever in 1861, aged 42.
1870 (France) The Franco-Prussian war rages. The Second Empire falls after the decisive defeat of the French army in Sedan. The emperor surrenders to the enemy. His wife, Empress Eugenie, flees to England, where she is later joined by her husband and son. The Third Republic is proclaimed. The French feel humiliated as the victorious Prussians celebrate the birth of the German Empire in Versailles, the traditional seat of French royalty.
1871 (England) The queen still mourns her husband.
1871 (France) Paris is surrounded, shelled, and starved by the enemy army. Unlike France’s legitimate government, seated at Versailles, the city does not accept an armistice. The Commune erupts – the greatest revolution since 1789. In May, while the German army still surrounds Paris, the French government troops storm the city. This is followed by a massacre of thousands. The Commune is defeated.
1901 (England) Queen Victoria dies, aged 81.
1901 (France) The country enjoys a prosperity period known as the Belle Époque.
Paris destroyed by arson during the Commune in 1871. In the foreground is the Palace of Tuilleries
The pension reform that has been at the core of the violent protests in France has to be dealt with by other aging EU countries. Many governments fear the French scenario. They shouldn’t. There is no other nation that enjoys revolutions and stormy protests to this extent.
You Might Be Able to Swim in Paris’ Seine River by 2024
Paris is taking the plunge to make the Seine River squeaky clean, and if you believe in mermaids like I do, they’re about to get a real upgrade in real estate! But, more importantly, residents and tourists alike will be able to splash around and romanticize their life in the City of Love by 2024. The Seine River, a cherished and well-known natural landmark of Paris, has never been known as an ideal swimming spot, but significant progress has been made to fulfill Paris’s promise of clean water for the 2024 Summer Olympics. The city’s workers have made progress in improving the water quality of the 483-mile-long river, which is a huge undertaking in itself. So, how will the river be cleaned? Paris has developed the Swimming Plan for 2024, using an underground network of pipes, tanks, and pumps to prevent bacteria from entering the river. With over $1.53 billion from the Games, improved water quality could allow both Olympic swimmers and locals to enjoy the river, but they will have to wait until next year for safe swimming access to approximately 20 designated swimming areas along the Seine.
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The term La Belle Époque was coined after World War I when people realized how good life was before the disastrous conflict started in 1914. We are experiencing a similar situation today with the Russian aggression in Ukraine. While the physical damage has been limited to one country, the world’s economy has suffered a downturn, and it will be a long time before prosperity returns. The pre-Covid and pre-Ukraine epoch, which we didn’t fully appreciate while it existed, still needs a name.
By general agreement, the Belle Époque covers the last fifteen pre-war years (1899 to 1914) although some extend it to the entire period of growth after the Franco-Prussian War in 1870. It was a time of groundbreaking technological and industrial inventions – aviation, automobiles, the telephone, or the cinema.
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Auguste and Louis Lumière began the first moving pictures experiments in the winter of 1894, and the following year the brothers had come up with a device which they called the Cinématographe
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During the Belle Époque, France’s manufacturing output tripled thanks to the effects and development of the industrial revolution. Successful colonization provided additional revenues. It was also a rich time for intellectual and artistic creativity, in architecture, painting, literature, and music.
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The Art Nouveau was the signature style of La Belle Époque
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While the rural world and the manual workers still had to fight for their place in the sun, a class of petty bourgeoisie, which would later be called the middle class, began to prosper. The population became more active as the bicycle brought increased freedom of movement to the benefit of the working class, teenagers, and women.
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Jean Béraud: The Chalet Du Cycle in the Bois De Boulogne, c.1900
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There was also a growing freedom of morals. In 1884, divorce was allowed again in France after its abolition in 1816. Sexuality became more permissive. All classes looked for fun. Popular music and new styles of performance introduced mass entertainment venues, such as the Moulin Rouge, the birthplace of choreographed can-can.
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The Belle Époque was an era of technical and cultural exuberance when optimism and trust in progress prevailed. It was a society that had fun and was confident about the future.
In the capital of Ukraine, where due to Russian willful destruction there is no power, this year’s Christmas celebrations will be a sad affair. The situation in Kyiv is very similar to what Paris lived under the Prussian siege during the harsh winter of 1870-71. The poignant suffering of Parisians during that period comes from the pen of Francis Sarcey, writer and journalist, who left a bitter report of that year’s festivities.
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We reached the last days of December. How sad were those days, which are ordinarily consecrated to joy! It is true that we had a pale consolation of satisfied revenge, in thinking that the Germans, detained under Paris, would not celebrate their Christmas with their families, and that the traditional Christmas tree would only see around it melancholy faces and crying eyes. But, ourselves, how different this Christmas was for us from those nights of solemn feasts which formerly broke out gaily throughout Paris in honor of this anniversary!
Shelling during the Siege of Paris, Francisque Sarcey (1871)
Most churches had closed their doors; through the kerosene-lit streets, plunged in semi-darkness, sounded the rare step of some belated passer-by. A small number of restaurants had remained open, either in the ordinary center of Parisian pleasures, from the Boulevard des Italiens to the Boulevard Montmartre, or in the populous quarters, at Montmartre, at Menilmontant and at Belleville. There, we had, out of dilettantism, gathered for supper around extravagant and bizarre menus. Wolf chops featured alongside roasted elephant trunk and kangaroo en capilotade, all washed down with classic champagne. We were tickling each other to make each other laugh. No one had the heart to have fun.
Menu of December 25, 1870. Cafe Voisin, 261 rue Saint-Honoré. It is featuring stuffed donkey head, leg of wolf, cat surrounded by rats, kangaroo stew, and antelope terrine
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Zoo animals were killed for food
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Meats shops sold dogs, cats, and rats
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A ration ticket
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[The daily wage of an unskilled laborer was around one franc. Women and children seldom earned above fifty cents.]
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The whole month of December was terribly hard to go through. The privations increased as the stock of our supplies diminished. All the food that accompanies bread and meat had risen to exorbitant prices, which rose every day. A pound of oil commonly cost six to seven francs! The butter, it was not necessary to speak of it; they were fancy prices, 40 or 50 francs a kilo; Gruyère was not sold; it would have cost too much; he [the merchant] gave it himself as a gift. I know a very pretty woman who, on New Year’s Day, received, instead of the usual sweets, a bag of potatoes and a piece of cheese. A piece of cheese is a royal present; potatoes were worth 25 francs a bushel; they were much more expensive for small households who bought them by the liter or by the heap. A cabbage was priced at six francs; it was sold leaf by leaf, and such, which in the past one would hardly have dared to offer to one’s rabbits, figured nobly in the horse stew.
Many had bought rabbits, which they fed on peelings, while waiting for the famine to force them to make pies. At the time when I write these lines, I have near me, in my study, two rabbit brothers, crouched in a corner of the room, and who look at me with their big frightened air. The housekeeper brought them to me, claiming that they were bored all alone in their niche, that they were cold there and did not want to eat any more. This last consideration decided me; I received them, and I try to distract them. I will be careful not to read this chapter to them, where their sentence is pronounced; they would only lose weight with grief.
Soup for the poorest was available at the city-run facilities
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The number [of provisions] grew more rare day by day. The bourgeoisie was beginning to see the end of their reserves. I had followed with curious interest the progress of this exhaustion. I belonged to a small society where people met to play either whist or hot water bottle. The betting rate and the way of pushing the game did not change significantly in the first month; from the second, the card fell by half, then by three quarters, and finally towards the end of the last days of the blockade, it was agreed that no more money would be played.
We were all dry, and had barely enough to look forward to better days. What about those who had no reserves? It was the vast majority of Parisians, it must be admitted. No, I cannot tell our brothers in the provinces too often with what indomitable courage, with what touching resignation, with what invincible feeling of patriotism this whole population endured the rigors of this long misery. The women especially were admirable.
I don’t pity men too much; most had their thirty sous a day, which many of them drank shamelessly. But women! Poor women! In those abominable December colds, they lined up all day, at the baker’s, at the butcher’s, at the grocer’s, at the lumber merchant’s, at the town hall. None murmured; never have I heard from a single one of those mouths, accustomed to harsh words, an impious word against France.
Balloons provided the only contact with the outside world
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And on the morning of the first of January! No, I will never forget that first morning of the year 1871; when the maid brought me lunch on a small table, and on this feast day, when the whole family is usually gathered together and is joyfully overwhelmed with wishes and kisses, I saw myself all alone, by the fireside, opposite a piece of horse, which was smoking on the plate. I felt my whole being fail and burst into tears! Ah! These tears that others have shed in this cruel hour! Consider that all, or almost all of us, had sent our mothers, our wives and our children away, and that for three months we had lived without news of any kind! It was easy, in ordinary times, not to be bewildered by this solitude; business, conversations, guards to be mounted, the accustomed course of life, and then also this carefree philosophy, which is the foundation of our national character, everything contributed to warding off the memory of these cherished images; noises from outside distracted us from their thoughts.
The solemnity of that day brought them all back to us, and as they looked at us, with sad eyes, and stretching out their arms to us, they seemed to be saying to us: “Call us back! Won’t this cursed war soon be over?”… No, I can’t think of all this without my heart rising with rage. Miserables! Sons of the Huns! Barbarians! You have taken everything from us. We are ruined by you, starved by you, and presently we are going to be bombarded by you, and we certainly have the right to hate you with a cordial hatred.
How very true and very painful would these words sound to millions of Ukrainians whose families have been split apart by the war. Let’s hope the Christmas of 2023 will find them all together again. Slava Ukraine!
Parisians, used to all sorts of spectacles, were not easily impressed. Yet in 1884 they were astonished to see a colossal statue growing above the roofs of rue de la Chazelle buildings where a metal workshop was located. It was called La Statue de la Liberté.
The story of the Statue of Liberty is one of extraordinary perseverance. It begins during a dinner given by Edouard René de Laboulaye in Versailles in June 1865. Laboulaye was then a renowned professor with expertise in American politics; he was also the president of the Association for the Abolition of Slavery. That evening, he invited his colleagues and friends to celebrate the end of the Civil War. The guests decided to make a gesture towards the United States to celebrate the event but also to express their pain after the death of Abraham Lincoln, who was assassinated in April of that year.
Laboulaye and Bartholdi
Among the guests was a sculptor, Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, aged thirty. Bartholdi, who had returned from a trip to Egypt, was fascinated by the colossi of Antiquity and he proposed the idea of a giant statue representing the free spirit of America. The French would offer the statue as a gift to the United States for the centenary of the American Revolution of 1776.
At first, the American project remained in abeyance as Bartholdi got involved with another design: a monumental statue that was to stand at the southern entrance to the Suez Canal in Egypt, then under construction. After that project was shelved, Bartholdi set sail for America in the summer of 1871. During the crossing, he reworked his sketches of the Suez project and changed the Egyptian woman into a classical Greco-Roman statue. Arriving in New York, he quickly found the ideal location: Bedloe Island in the bay facing Manhattan. But there was a problem: Bartholdi did not speak a word of English and did not know anyone of importance. He crossed the United States for several months, searching for donors, and left without a cent.
He did not give up and launched an appeal for donations on his return to France. Five years later, the sculptor had enough money to build the hand and the torch. He had the bright idea of presenting the partial sculpture to the public during the 1876 World’s Fair in Philadelphia, marking the centenary of the American Declaration of Independence.
The Philadelphia Exposition, 1876
Of all the exhibits, the statue was the most popular one, and the most photographed. Visitors could climb inside and admire the view from the top of the torch. Besides being a good salesman, Bartholdi understood the power of the media and in particular the new illustrated magazines that were then appearing. The drawings of the completed statue, along with the photos of the torch and the head, made the project popular and eventually convinced Americans to take an interest in the statue.
Laboulaye and Bartholdi, the two fathers of the statue, had an agenda. Their project was not devoid of political motives, as the origins of the statue had a lot to do with the internal politics of France. The Second Empire was an authoritarian regime, and the two men were liberals. At the time, it was difficult to criticize the authorities. France’s gift to the United States was an indirect political statement. By honoring America and liberty, they proclaimed their support for republican ideas. The gesture was also aimed at recalling the decisive aid that France had given to the American insurgents to wrestle independence from the British crown.
However, France had no longer the odor of holiness in Washington. Napoleon III supported the Southerners in the Civil War and tried to take advantage of the conflict to colonize Mexico. The States also had many German immigrants, and the American government supported Prussia during its war with France. The strained relations changed with the advent of the Third Republic in 1870. Both countries now featured similar forms of government while Germany was becoming increasingly authoritarian, and the other great power, England, was not a republic. This helped to convince the Americans.
It is important to notice that the statue was a gift from the French to the Americans and not from France to America, because neither the French government nor the American government contributed to its realization. In the summer of 1875, Bartholdi brought together American and French personalities in his Parisian studio, and they created a committee, the Franco-American Union, chaired by Laboulaye. A major fundraising campaign was launched, supported by newspapers. At the end of 1875, the committee collected 200,000 francs which was a considerable sum.
The question of the design was discussed. With the dimensions imagined by Bartholdi, materials such as stone and bronze were unthinkable. Bartholdi then remembered his visit to northern Italy where he saw the statue of Saint Charles Borromeo, 23 meters in height, and made of copper supported by a masonry frame. Bartholdi also chose copper and made the first model a quarter of the final size. To support the copper sheets, the statue needed a solid skeleton capable of resisting the winds of New York Bay. A new man was brought to the project, Gustave Eiffel. He was not yet a worldwide celebrity with his impressive tower built in 1889, but the engineer had already made a name for himself with a remarkable viaduct in Cantal. Eiffel opted for metal: four wrought iron pylons connected by interlacing beams on a base of stone and cement.
The head of the Statue of Liberty on the Champ de Mars in Paris during the 1878 International Exhibition.
In 1877, the Americans created a committee in favor of the statue and agreed to provide a pedestal. A year later, the head was completed and exhibited in Paris throughout the summer. Many curious climbed the 43 steps leading to the crown. A national lottery was launched in the process: it brought together 100,000 subscribers before the head was transferred to the workshop in the 17th arrondissement.
The construction of the left arm
The statue rose, exceeded the roof – which had to be removed – and took its final form above Paris. It was open to the public from July to December 1884.
The ceremony of dedication in Paris, 1884
The ceremony of the official dedication of the Statue of Liberty took place on July 4, 1884. Following the speech of Ferdinand de Lesseps, President of the Franco-American Union, the Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States, Morton, declared to accept the colossal statue, with the thanks of the American government and people. After signing the minutes of the dedication, the many officials – deputies and ministers – undertook, under the leadership of Bartholdi, the first public ascent of the monument, to the torch, from where they admired the Parisian panorama. The party ended around a buffet set up under a tent, at the foot of “Liberté”.
Things were rapidly progressing in Paris but they were lagging in New York where Americans were slow in raising money for the pedestal. Bartholdi would not wait any longer. In May 1885, the Liberté was dismantled and stored in over 200 crates on a ship sailing for New York. Bartholdi was playing his all: the American committee, which had not finished the work on the pedestal, needed to feel the pressure.
In June, the ship arrived in front of the site and unloaded its precious cargo next to the unfinished pedestal. Parts of the statue remained scattered on Bedloe Island. Thanks to a relentless press campaign organized by journalist Joseph Pulitzer, things began to move. A goal of $100,000 was reached in August, collected from 120,000 donors. The pedestal was constructed; it weighed 28,000 tons.
Inauguration of the Statue of Liberty, 1886
The reconstruction of the statue was completed in October. At first reluctant, the American Congress finally agreed to finance the inauguration to the tune of 50,000 dollars. The great day took place on October 26, 1886. The city was decked out in red, white, and blue, the colors of France and America. A parade brought together a million New Yorkers. “The entire city was a huge cheer,” wrote the New York World. Bartholdi revealed the face of Liberty by bringing down the large sheet that hid it. The moment was greeted by the cannon shots of a warship and the sirens of 300 ships. In the distance, in New York, the bells were ringing.
Unfortunately, one of the fathers of the project would not see this triumph. Edouard René de Laboulaye died five years earlier, while the statue was still in construction.
Lastly, who is hiding behind the face of the Statue of Liberty? Since its inauguration, the craziest rumors have been circulating. The enigma was maintained by Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi himself. During his lifetime, the sculptor was assailed with questions. He let the mystery hover. Of all the possible models, only one face fits: that of the Frenchwoman Isabelle Boyer, widow of the billionaire Isaac Merritt Singer, founder of the famous sewing machines, and married to her second husband, the Duke of Campo Selice of Luxembourg. It was therefore her, the Duchess of Campo Selice, who inspired the sculptor with her classical features.
Jean and Hortense Kinck with their youngest children
By annexing its bordering villages in 1860, Paris also swallowed the community of Pantin, then a quiet rural location. In 1869, the village became a pilgrimage destination for the curious after an extraordinary crime was committed there. 100,000 people visited the infamous field where opportunistic refreshment stalls owners made a brisk business in a macabre and sensational atmosphere. The case, known as the Massacre de Pantin, made a lasting impression in the history of crime reporting.
Up to that date, the journals published accounts of court cases. With this particularly heinous crime, the papers brought news of the investigation process, and their profits soared. When the murderer was guillotined, the press owners celebrated him by uncorking champagne. He was their benefactor.
The infamous criminal case inspired poems and ballads sung on street corners by ambulant musicians, and also caught the attention of many successful authors, including Stendhal, Flaubert, Zola, Dumas, Rimbaud, and even Victor Hugo, then in exile.
What happened?
On the morning of September 20, 1869, Jean Langlois, a farmer, saw traces of blood in the grass of his alfalfa field. These stopped at a trench surmounted by a small mound of earth.
The farmer dug into the center of the mound with his spade. A handkerchief stained with fresh blood appeared, then a child’s arm. Continuing to dig with his hands, he unearthed a bloodied child’s head. He ran to the authorities, who sent a commissioner and a medical examiner.
In the hours that followed, the systematic search by the police led to the discovery of six bodies: a two-year-old girl, four young boys, and their pregnant mother. The mutilated corpses buried in the pit were later identified by the labels of their clothes. They were the Kinck family, originally from the industrial town of Roubaix. The instruments of crime, a bloody shovel, and ropes, were buried nearby.
The discovery immediately caused a stir. The next day, the investigators received the testimony of the coachman of a hired vehicle who drove the presumed murderer and the Kinck family from the railway station Gare du Nord to the place where they were massacred. The police now had the description of the suspect and the manhunt could begin.
Since the coachman described the man as young and slim, the suspicion focused on the missing eldest son, Gustave Kinck. Did he commit these multiple murders at his father’s request? Nobody knew then that Gustave had been killed two days prior and was buried in the same field. As for the father, dead of poisoning, his body was hidden far away in his native province of Alsace.
The police followed the suspect’s trail to Le Havre from where he planned to embark for America. His hounded attitude betrayed him during a routine check by Constable Ferrand, who was informed of the sinister news item. Instead of answering incriminating questions, the suspect preferred to flee in panic to the port where he jumped into the water and almost drowned. Ferrand, who was pursuing him but could not swim, alerted a caulker named Hauguel who dived in.
After searching the captured man’s belongings, the police discovered his correspondence, various papers, and objects stolen from his victims. The suspect was identified as Jean-Baptiste Troppmann, aged 20, and was handed over to justice.
A child of frail stature but of uncommon energy, intelligent but introverted, Jean-Baptiste was spoiled by his mother, who preferred him to his two older brothers. His father, Joseph Troppmann, an ingenious and prolific inventor, held several patents relating to the improvement of various spinning machines and accessories. The future of the boy seemed all mapped out: to promote these materials throughout France.
Despite his clever inventions, Joseph Troppmann was not a good role model for his children. Under the permanent influence of alcohol, he spent lavishly and compromised the future of his business. The situation weighed on Jean-Baptiste’s mind. He had already understood that his father’s affairs would never be up to his ambition. The boy remained taciturn and unsociable. When he deigned to speak, it was about money and riches he would one day enjoy. According to the testimonies collected, he was already feeding on sensational and macabre news items related to criminal acts.
At the end of 1868, he left for the capital to install new machines sold by his father to a Parisian industrialist. He found accommodation in Pantin and remained there until May of the following year. Later, he went to Roubaix for another installation, which allowed him to meet the Kinck family.
Kinck’s wife, Hortense, a bourgeoise from Roubaix, was raising six children and was six months pregnant with the seventh. Jean Kinck happened to be Troppmann’s compatriot, originally from the province of Alsace. For a young man of barely twenty, Kinck was a model in the trade: by dint of seriousness and skill, he went from worker to foreman, to become the boss of a prosperous spinning establishment.
The complicity between a middle-aged man experienced in business and a young man just out of adolescence surprised many. Troppmann didn’t have a particularly friendly face, but his nonchalant attitude, his strong Alsatian accent, his impassiveness – in reality, his lack of emotions – gave him the good-natured air of a thoughtful boy and managed to inspire confidence. Troppmann spoke little, but he spoke well. He succeeded to involve the pragmatic and circumspect Kinck in a shady scheme.
Both were dissatisfied men. Kinck dreamt of amassing a large fortune before retiring to his native country. Troppmann, for his part, was eager to succeed, and, measuring the long professional path of his new friend, he did not find the legal way to riches fast enough.
The two accomplices had openly agreed on two objectives. Troppmann would visit his father in Alsace and obtain from him an agreement so that Jean Kinck could exploit his patents abroad. At the same time, he would seek an Alsatian property for Kinck’s retirement. In fact, both men had something else in mind: easy money.
About a week after the young man’s departure, Jean Kinck announced to his family, not without some mystery, that he was leaving for business in Alsace. On August 24, he arrived at a rural railway station where Troppmann was waiting for him. In order to lure Jean Kinck, Troppmann made him believe they were visiting a clandestine counterfeit money factory. During the hike in the deep woods, he made his unfortunate companion drink a deadly potion based on Prussic acid and buried him in this remote place. The corpse of Jean Kinck was the last to be found on November 25, 1869.
Troppmann hoped to earn 5,500 francs in cash by killing Kinck, but was sadly disappointed. The older man was cautious and his murderer found only 212 francs on the body. It was the first setback, but he now had his victim’s identity papers and his gold watch, as well as two checks.
Troppmann reviewed his plan and wrote to the wife, “under the dictation of Jean, wounded in the hand”, so that she would withdraw the amount of the checks from the bank and send him a mandate. The lie was crude, but the wife, kept in complete ignorance, complied with the demand. This resulted in a new disappointment for Troppmann, who was found too young to cash the mandate in the place of a man supposed to be of respectable age. He was forced to imagine another strategy: he would involve Gustave, Kinck’s eldest son, aged sixteen.
Troppmann removed himself to Paris. Pretending to be Kinck, he wrote a letter to the family, still under the alleged dictation. He told them of a marvelous gain of half a million francs won thanks to his young partner; then, in an enthusiastic and optimistic tone, gave Troppmann the full power of attorney. The latter established himself as a trustworthy man. In the same letter, he demanded that young Gustave leave Roubaix with an authenticated power of attorney to recover the money.
On September 15th, the boy arrived in Paris, but without money or a valid document. He had left in haste, eager to see his father. Suppressing his rage, Troppmann asked him to send a telegram inviting his mother to join them in the capital, with “all the papers”. Then he took the boy to Pantin, supposedly to meet his father. Gustave did not suspect that to join his father, he would have to die by stabbing. He was the first family member to be buried in the alfalfa field.
The family—except for the youngest child placed in foster care—responded confidently to the eldest son’s call. They arrived in Paris, and believing that the head of the family was now living in Pantin, in an isolated new residence, they boarded a cab, accompanied by Troppmann.
It was late at night. The cab left the fortifications of Paris, and the company dismounted in a deserted countryside. As soon as the cab disappeared from view, Troppmann went to work. The mother and two children had their throats slit, and the other three were strangled. All were finished off with a shovel.
The investigation of the massacre was led by Antoine Claude, the chief of the Paris Sûreté, who initially thought that the father and eldest son killed the family. He only suspected Troppmann because of the report given by the cab driver who took Madame Kinck and her children to Pantin. This suited Troppmann who pretended to be only an accomplice and accused Kinck and his son of the murders.
The tale of his innocence was ruined on September 28, when a butcher’s apprentice discovered Gustave Kinck’s body. To extract a full confession, Troppmann was tricked into believing that Jean Kinck’s remains had been found as well. He admitted guilt. He would later indicate the location of the body in the ruins of the castle Herrenfluh in Alsace.
Now it was time for a sensational trial. Troppmann appeared before the Assize Court of the department of the Seine, on December 28, 1869. In the packed courtroom, the front seats were reserved for political and intellectual VIPs, including celebrated authors.
According to Antoine Claude, the head of the Security Police, Troppmann could not act alone. In his opinion, there were accomplices to the murders. He believed in the widespread idea of a counterfeiters’ gang operating along the Franco-German border, and even of a German spy network. It was, after all, a time of unrest on the eve of the Franco-Prussian War.
Claude’s suspicions could not be proven and forensic experts, who studied the blows given to the victims, admitted the possibility of a single man. The Court rejected the hypothesis of any complicity, and Troppmann was sentenced to capital punishment.
His appeal for clemency having been rejected, Troppmann was brought to the scaffold on January 19, 1870. His face appeared aged by thirty years, but he was calm. Once installed on the guillotine, he had a burst of revolt. He struggled and managed to break the straps holding him down. The executioner had to hold his head forcibly on the half-moon. Before the heavy blade fell on his neck, the condemned man bit his executioner’s left hand, almost severing his index finger.
Troppmann guillotined
The severed head shows the twenty-year-old Troppmann’s incredible aging within four short months. Did he really act alone? It is hard to believe that he could kill six people, five of whom had legs capable of running. At least the older boys had a chance to save their lives. Or were they too shocked and frozen with fear? The Pantin Massacre remains a difficult and strange case.
The Boarding House transports you back to Paris during the enchanting Belle Époque period with a diverse ensemble of players: young and old, servants and socialites, French and foreign, polite and ill-mannered. It’s delicious, devious, and delightful. Iva Polansky writes with a style and authenticity you might wonder if she was there in another life.
NEW!
One for All
Madelon-la-Belle left Paris twenty years ago to escape her damaged reputation. She abandoned her infant daughter, Louise, in the care of her sister. Now she is back, a wealthy widow, and she plans to be a caring mother. Her idea of caring motherhood is to make Louise a high-born heiress. It only needs a little deception.This does not sit well with Louise’s father, Captain d’Artagnan of the Royal Musketeers, who finds Madelon’s plan unsound. He wants to see Louise married as soon as possible, before she becomes a slut like her mother, and has already found a good husband for her. Unfortunately, the formidable Madelon does not agree with d’Artagnan’s choice. A battle of wills ensues, involving d’Artagnan’s long-lost friends, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. A comedy based on Alexandre Dumas’s classic novel The Three Musketeers.
Fame and Infamy / Adventures of an American Maid in Paris
Otto von Bismarck, German secret police, celebrated French artists and Miss Nelly McKay of Butte, Montana, come together in this lively mystery set in 1870’s Paris.
Print or ebook, 410 pages
He was right. She was right. Together they were wrong
THE WAR OF THE TOLSTOYS
Leo Tolstoy’s last days: In 1910, newspapers around the world reported the tribulations of Russia’s most famous writer. The War of the Tolstoys tells it all.
Screenplay, 110 pages
Passion and Wit and Ménage à Trois ( a true story)
Our Divine Emilie
Two of the brightest minds of the French Enlightenment, Voltaire and Emilie du Châtelet, meet the poet Saint-Lambert in a dangerous liaison. Court intrigue, conspiracy, and betrayal are in abundance in this comedy/drama. (A Screenplay)
Victorian Paris 