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Title: Famous Women of History:
Author: Lucy E. Parsons
Date: October 29, 1905
Language: en
Topics: class struggle, working class
Source: The Liberator
Notes: Chicago

Lucy E. Parsons

Famous Women of History:

How many are there of the countless millions who have entered this life,

passed through its changing scenes and at last have laid down to rest,

of whom it can be truly said, “Here rest they who have labored for the

uplifting of the oppressed, who have devoted their energies unstintingly

in the interest of the ‘common people?’” We fear there are few indeed. A

life devoted to the interest of the working class; a life of

self-abnegation, a life full of love, kindness, gentleness, tragedy,

activity, sadness and kind-ness, are some of the characteristics which

went to make up the varied life of our comrade, Louise Michel. In the

elderly woman, clad in simple black garments, with gray hair curling

upon rounded shoulders and kindest of blue eyes glancing from the

strongly marked face, none but those who knew her personally would in

the last few years have recognized Louise Michel.

Listening to her quiet musical voice, with its slightly rising and

falling cadences, uttering sentences which were as dignified and

impressive as the lines from a heroic play, it needed some personal

knowledge to imagine her calling in the streets of Paris three and

thirty years ago to comrades to rally, and encouraging them to stand and

defend the street barricades amid the hail of shell and fire.

Still more incredible must the stormy scenes of her long life have

seemed to those who only saw her in the little home she only a few years

ago found in a London suburb, feeding or caressing the numerous furred

and feathered friends housed by her tender charity, many of them bearing

the scars of cruelties from which she had tried to save them. For

herself she thought nothing of privation and suffering, but for all

creation that groans and travails in pain she felt with every nerve and

fiber of her mind.

As a girl, while living in the old chateau near Troyes, where she was

born, she noticed and questioned the sufferings of the animals that man

had subjected. An early novel of hers opens with a graphic description

of the sufferings of a worn-out horse which was driven into a pond to

feed the leeches bred for Paris doctors. As soon as she could reason,

Louise Michel conceived the idea that the world only needed to be taught

better to do better. Her ambition was to help in the teaching of it, and

she became a schoolmistress. She was teaching school when the troubles

of the Franco-Prussian war began; all those years she had been using her

pen on political questions, modeling her verse on poems of Victor Hugo,

and had already won some reputation among advanced political parties.

When it was proposed to surrender Paris without a blow, she came forward

to protest against such dishonor. Her proposal to emancipate Paris from

an infamous and treacherous government attracted the attention of the

revolutionary leaders all through the days of the Commune.

Louise Michel shared their counsels and deliberations. The proudest

moment of her life, no doubt, was the day when she put on the kepi and

tunic of the National Guard, and with rifle on shoulder marched out

against the troops from Versailles. Absolutely fearless, her presence

alone would have sufficed to encourage the adherents of the most

desperate cause. That she escaped death in this struggle for liberty was

the more marvelous, as she did nothing to avoid it. She organized the

central committee of women and fought in the ranks with even greater

courage than did men, being severely wounded at the defense at Fort

Isay. Before her wound healed, she was back at her post again. She was

arrested and arraigned before the council at war. She made no defense

and pleaded capital punishment. “I wished” she said,

to oppose a barrier of flames to the invaders of Versailles, and if I

failed it was no fault of my will or purpose. If it had been possible I

should have killed theirs. I have no desire to live. I dedicated myself

to France, and, unable to save her, death would be a boon. If you are

not cowards, you will order my execution.

But besides her courage, Louise Michel had a great gift, a sense of

humor wedded to a keen wit, which served her and her friends in the most

desperate circumstances. Even in the terrible nights in the prison at

Satory, when she heard and saw from the windows the fusillades tumbling

batches of her comrades into the ditches that they had been forced to

dig for themselves-even this did not quench her spirit.

With a bit of charcoal she cheered the drooping spirits of her fellow

sufferers by drawing on the whitewashed walls absurd caricatures of the

prison officials, until the latter begged the authorities to remove her

as “incorrigible.” Her resolute acceptance of all the responsibilities

of the deeds with which she was accused at her trial is well known, but

what her fellow exiles owed to her courage and cheerfulness on the long

voyage to New Caledonia is not to be estimated. She herself returned to

France firmly believing that all authority wielded by man over man was

demoralizing; believing too, in the possibilities which lay before the

human race through voluntary organization and the equal sharing of the

goods and ills of life.

She never changed her attitude toward the wrongs and injustices met with

everywhere; she did not become conservative or a compromiser as so many

do, when declining years are creeping upon them. Accused of inciting

starving men to help themselves freely from the bake shops in the

Boulevard St. Germain, she was again imprisoned in 1883 and again in

1886 for a revolutionary speech. At Havre, in 1888, she was shot at by

an unemployed workingman while lecturing on the strikes, in which he was

a sufferer. The bullet lodged in the back of her neck, but she covered

the wound with her handkerchief and went on speaking, anxious only that

her assailant should not be punished.

As she refused to give evidence against him, or allow her wound to be

examined, the man was discharged, and when he died shortly afterwards of

consumption, Louise Michel was one of his best friends. All those who

escaped the awful butchery of the soldiers in the streets of Paris,

during the last days of the Commune and who were known to have been at

all active in that struggle were exiled to New Caledonia. The suffering

of the prisoners in that pest hole was beyond description; at last a

number of them were offered amnesty. Louise Michel was among the first

who was offered pardon and transportation back to Paris; but she refused

to leave while any remained, and stayed—nursing the sick and encouraging

the weak in spirit.

She left the island only with the last batch who were released after

years of torture. Such is the story in brief, and but poorly told, of

the life of our noble comrade. The storm-tossed, ocean-beaten mariner

struggles on and on amid the baffling waves, his courage is almost gone,

but at last a light-house looms up in the far distance and he takes on

fresh courage and strives on to reach it. So it is in the baffling ocean

of humanity. A strong character like Louise Michel looms up like a

pillar of light or a star of hope, and the weary reformer sees it and

takes fresh courage to struggle on in the surging ocean of humanity, and

endeavors to calm its troubled waves and point the way to the harbor of

plenty.

Louise Michel died in Marseilles, France, January 9th, 1905, aged 73

years. We can but say, rest, sister and comrade, after your long and

useful life; sweet sleep has come at last.