History of the Commune of 1871

In Short

Prosper-Olivier Lissagaray's chronicle stands as the definitive insider's narrative of the rise and brutal suppression of the Paris Commune. Written by a journalist who personally fought on the barricades, the work traces the full trajectory of the 1871 insurrection, from the initial withdrawal of government forces and the spontaneous election of the Communard council to the agonizing final days of urban warfare. It survives as a premier historical text due to its unsparing detail, eye-witness intimacy, and impassioned defense of the working class. Rather than idealizing the revolt, Lissagaray exposes the strategic errors and factional infighting of the insurgent leadership while documenting the overwhelming violence unleashed by the French state to crush the working-class uprising.

The Story

The narrative commences in the wake of France’s humiliating defeat in the Franco-Prussian War and the grueling Siege of Paris. As the newly elected National Assembly under Adolphe Thiers attempts to disarm the Parisian populace by seizing the cannons of the National Guard at Montmartre on March 18, 1871, the city rebels. Men, women, and regular soldiers fraternize, turning away the government forces and forcing Thiers and his administration to flee to Versailles. In Paris, the Central Committee of the National Guard steps into the power vacuum, organizing municipal elections that establish the Paris Commune—a revolutionary council composed of socialists, Jacobins, and working-class representatives.

Initial enthusiasm gives way to immediate administrative and military challenges. The Communard council attempts to reorganize public services, abolish night work for bakers, restrict priest-led education, and institute moratoriums on rent. However, Lissagaray highlights how these reforms are hampered by internal division, bureaucratic paralysis, and an underlying naïveté regarding the intentions of the Versaillese government. The insurgent leadership hesitates to seize the vast wealth of the Bank of France, missing its primary political leverage over the bourgeoisie, and fails to mount an early, decisive military offensive while Versailles remains weak and disorganized.

When Thiers launches a systematic offensive to retake the capital, the Commune struggles to mount a coherent defense. Lissagaray depicts a military command plagued by revolving appointments, lack of discipline, and theoretical posturing. Despite heroic individual efforts—such as the prolonged, bloody defense of Fort Issy—the Commune is gradually pushed back within the city walls. Provincials across France attempt sympathetic uprisings in cities like Lyons and Marseilles, but these movements are quickly snuffed out by the central government, leaving Paris isolated.

The climax of the history arrives with the entry of the Versaillese troops into Paris, initiating the notorious "Bloody Week" of May 21 to 28. Street by street, the regular army advances behind heavy artillery bombardment. The defenders erect hundreds of hasty barricades, fighting with desperate courage even as key positions like Montmartre fall due to poor organization and lack of ammunition. As the army executes captured defenders without trial, desperate Communards torch public buildings and execute hostages, including the Archbishop of Paris.

The narrative reaches its grim conclusion in the eastern faubourgs and the Père Lachaise cemetery, where the final defenders are surrounded and annihilated. The fall of the last barricade in the Rue Ramponeau marks the end of military resistance, but not the end of the tragedy. Lissagaray details the relentless aftermath: summary massacres of suspects, forced marches of thousands of prisoners to Versailles, and the systematic prosecution of survivors by military courts-martial. Children, women, and foreign volunteers share the dock, facing execution, hard labor, or lifelong deportation to penal colonies in New Caledonia. The book closes with a bitter accounting of this judicial reprisal, transforming the history into a solemn memorial for the thousands who perished.

How It Unfolds

The siege and the spark The collapse of the Empire leaves Paris impoverished and surrounded by Prussian troops, while the conservative National Assembly attempts to disarm the National Guard. On March 18, women and guardsmen at Montmartre persuade regular soldiers to refuse orders to fire, turning back the troops and driving the government out of the city.

Establishing the Commune The Central Committee reorganizes public services, holds municipal elections, and officially proclaims the Commune at the Hôtel-de-Ville. Socialists and radical republicans try to build a new society, but their efforts are compromised by administrative confusion and endless disputes with former city mayors.

The war begins Early sorties by the Communards fail due to inexperienced commanders, bad logistics, and unexpected artillery fire from Mont-Valérien. Versailles immediately begins executing captured insurgent leaders, prompting the Commune to pass a troubled, largely ineffective decree threatening the execution of hostages in retaliation.

The siege inside the walls Forts like Issy and Vanves undergo relentless bombardment, reduced to ruins while gunners fight without sufficient shells or reinforcements. In the provinces, brief revolutionary demonstrations in cities like Lyons and Bordeaux are crushed or neutralized by Thiers through promises and threats.

The bloody week Versaillese troops enter Paris through undefended gates, encountering disorganized defenses as command structures dissolve into localized street fights. Major landmarks burn, summary executions multiply, and defenders hold out barricade by barricade from Montmartre to the Place de la Bastille.

The final stand and retribution The last Federal cannon falls silent in the eastern working-class quarters, ending eight weeks of insurrection. Military courts take over, sentencing over thirteen thousand workers, women, and children to execution, imprisonment, or penal servitude abroad.

The People

• Adolphe Thiers: The head of the French executive power who orders the disarmament of Paris and leads the offensive from Versailles. Driven to crush the insurrection completely, he uses stall tactics with provincial negotiators while building an army to take the city by force.
• Charles Delescluze: A veteran radical journalist and member of the Commune who takes over as civil delegate at war during the final, desperate days. Frail and heartbroken over the city's impending defeat, he refuses to surrender and intentionally walks onto an open barricade at the Château d'Eau to meet his death.
• Louis-Nathaniel Rossel: A trained military engineer who briefly serves as the Commune's delegate at war. Intelligent and pedantic, he attempts to impose traditional military discipline on the irregular National Guard, growing increasingly frustrated by the council's lack of organization before resigning.
• Eugène Varlin: A socialist bookbinder and key member of the International who tirelessly manages food distribution and finances. He attempts to restrain panic and prevent mob violence against hostages during the final street fighting, only to be recognized, tortured, and executed after the city falls.
• Jaroslaw Dombrowski: A Polish officer who becomes one of the Commune's most effective military commanders. He personally leads forces at the front lines under constant bombardment, eventually receiving a fatal gunshot wound on a barricade in the Rue Myrrha.

In Its Own Voice

"The women of the 18th March, hardened by the siege--they had had a double ration of misery--did not wait for the men."

Lissagaray records how the initial uprising began not with grand political manifestos, but with the immediate, spontaneous resistance of working-class women confronting soldiers in the streets of Montmartre.

"In the notorious chamber of Valentine Haussmann the corpse of Dombrowski was laid out upon a bed of blue satin."

This stark image captures the surreal reality inside the Hôtel-de-Ville during the final week, where fallen leaders were brought directly from the barricades into former imperial salons.

"'Bouverat, why did you join the Pupilles de la Commune?' 'To get something to eat.'"

Transcribed directly from the transcripts of the Versailles courts-martial, this exchange illustrates the sheer poverty that drove Paris's youth into the ranks of the insurrection.

What It's Really About

At its core, the work is an inquiry into political power, working-class emancipation, and the structural failures of revolutionary movements. Lissagaray does not present the Commune merely as a romantic tragedy; he treats it as a hard lesson in statecraft and military strategy. He argues that the insurrection failed not because its ideals were wrong, but because its leadership suffered from indecision, ideological infighting, and a fatal respect for bourgeois institutions—such as leaving the assets of the Bank of France untouched while Versaillese forces prepared their assault.

The book also explores the deep class hatred that surfaced during the conflict. Lissagaray contrasts the Commune's relatively humane treatment of political enemies with the relentless, institutionalized brutality of the state apparatus during the courts-martial. Beneath the military narrative lies an argument about the nature of historical memory: the text serves to document the names, actions, and court sentences of thousands of ordinary workers, ensuring that the defeat does not erase their attempt to build a social republic.

Why Read It Today

This work remains essential reading for anyone seeking an authentic, primary perspective on one of the nineteenth century's most significant revolutionary events. Unlike distant academic overviews, Lissagaray’s account vibrates with the immediacy of someone who moved through the smoke of the barricades, sat in the press galleries, and watched his colleagues die. Readers interested in urban history, military strategy, and radical political movements will find a detailed, unvarnished look at how a city functions when its central authority collapses.

The reader must navigate certain challenges. The text is dense with forgotten nineteenth-century political factions, obscure municipal districts, and dozens of military figures whose names are introduced without extensive preamble. Lissagaray's writing style is intense, urgent, and heavily detailed, demanding close attention as it shifts rapidly between military despatches, council debates, and court transcripts.

What endures is the raw humanity of the narrative. By avoiding generic praise and focusing on the actual records—including military logbooks, municipal decrees, and trial transcripts of impoverished children—Lissagaray creates a document of extraordinary power. It offers an unsparing look at the cost of civil war and a moving testament to the people of Paris.