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Sonic Scars in Urban Space: Trauma and the Parisian Soundscape during l'année terrible

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  04 February 2022

Erin Brooks*
Affiliation:
State University of New York–Potsdam Email: brooksem@potsdam.edu

Abstract

In the “terrible year” of 1870–71 – spanning the Franco-Prussian War through the Commune – Parisians looked on with horror at the nightmarish transformation of their Ville Lumière. They not only watched, they listened – garnering crucial information but also failing to shut out belliphonic sounds that rendered them sleepless, sick or even unable to function. In a flood of lectures and treatises, a generation of neurologists and psychiatrists assessed the impact of this year on French minds and bodies. Moreover, Charcot and Janet formulated early understandings of trauma amidst the cultural memories and traumatized populations impacted by 1870–71.

Weaving together contemporary medical discourse, journals, reportage and iconography, this article reveals a topography of Parisian sonic violence. Drawing on Mark M. Smith and Jennifer Stoever's work on how race, gender, and class structure listening, this case study analyses the positionality of sound's traumatic impacts on nineteenth-century Parisians. Connecting sound, the events of 1870–71, and early conceptions of trauma also critically integrates these decades with subsequent experiences of la grande guerre. As I ultimately situate a specifically urban theorization of the aural experiences of war, I conclude with how sonic trauma of l'année terrible might stretch far beyond 1870–71. Borrowing from Andreas Huyssen's concept of city as palimpsest – where visual reminders of violence leave ‘absent presences’ in the heart of an urban space – I query how sonic memories of conflict might similarly leave traces – sonic scars? – in both physical places and in individual and collective memories.

Type
Research Article
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2022. Published by Cambridge University Press

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References

1 Grounding this analysis in a discussion of the memory park in Buenos Aires, Huyssen notes that ‘cities remain the main battleground on which societies articulate their sense of time past and time present. Once embodied in memorial sites within an urban fabric, remembrance of traumatic events seems less susceptible to the vagaries of memory.’ Huyssen sees this as a shift from discourses of ‘reading the city as text’, from Hugo to Barthes to Baudrillard to many postmodern geographers in the 1970s and 1980s. See Present Pasts: Urban Palimpsests and the Politics of Memory (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2003): 50, 101. For an evocative consideration of the possibilities of ‘acoustic palimpsests’, see Daughtry, J. Martin, ‘Acoustic Palimpsests and the Politics of Listening’, Music & Politics 7/1 (2013): 1–34Google Scholar.

2 Edward A. Crane, ed., The Memoirs of Dr. Thomas W. Evans: Recollections of the Second Empire (London: Fisher Unwin, 1905): 588. Though her study Composing the Citizen focuses on the period after the Commune (France's Third Republic), Jann Pasler includes a ‘walk’ through Paris as a means of discussing the symbolism of place, particularly in regard to music and power. She writes of the Tuileries: ‘suggesting the power of absence as well as presence in the cityscape, these ruins, untouched for twelve years, were fraught with uneasy and powerfully ambivalent symbolism’; Jann Pasler, Composing the Citizen: Music as Public Utility in Third Republic France (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009): 20. For more on ruins and their symbolism in post-Commune Paris, see Colette Wilson, Paris and the Commune, 1871–1878: The Politics of Forgetting (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2007), particularly chapter five on photographing ruins of the Commune.

3 Judith Herman, Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence – From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror (New York: Basic Books, 1992); Dominick LaCapra, Writing History, Writing Trauma (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001); Jeffrey C. Alexander, Ron Eyerman, Bernhard Giesen, Neil J. Smelser and Piotr Sztompka, Cultural Trauma and Collective Identity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004).

4 Allan Young, The Harmony of Illusions: Inventing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995): 5. A number of works address this issue; Maria Cizmic provides a capsule summary of the debate in the introduction to her book Performing Pain: Music and Trauma in Eastern Europe (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). Mark S. Micale and Paul Lerner note two main methodological camps: in the first, writers (often in medical or psychological disciplines) ‘interpret post-traumatic psychopathology as a timeless, quasi-universal disorder’. An alternate approach (often espoused by anthropologists, social scientists, and historians) rejects this view as ‘presentist and positivistic and adopts an emphatically historicist stance’. See Mark S. Micale and Paul Lerner, eds, Traumatic Pasts: History, Psychiatry, and Trauma in the Modern Age, 1870–1930 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001): 6–7.

5 Young, Harmony of Illusions, 1. In his analysis of memory, Young notes that PTSD is ‘a disease of time. The disorder's distinctive pathology is that it permits the past (memory) to relive itself in the present, in the form of intrusive images and thoughts and in the patient's compulsions to replay old events’. Young discusses the early development of trauma in his first chapter, particularly nineteenth-century explanations of ‘railway spine’ by John Erichsen (1866) and Herbert Page (1885).

6 Micale, ‘Jean-Martin Charcot and les névroses traumatiques’, in Traumatic Pasts, 138. By the 1880s, there was general consensus by experts in England, France and Germany that fear could produce physiological symptoms.

7 Aimée Boutin provides a short bibliography and explanation of how the senses and sound have emerged in the humanities. See ‘Rethinking the Flâneur: Flânerie and the Senses’, Dix-Neuf 16/2 (2012): 124–32. Scholars from many disciplines have studied the interaction of the senses as a key to knowledge, memory and identity; to name just a few sources, see Michel Serres, The Five Senses: A Philosophy of Mingled Bodies (London: Bloomsbury, 2016); the essays in C. Nadia Seremetakis's edited collection The Senses Still: Perception and Memory as Material Culture in Modernity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); and work on the spatial construction of diaspora through the senses by Michalis Poupazis, ‘Extending Our Senses: Music, Nostalgia, Space, Artefact and the Mediterranean Imaginary among the Greek-and-Turkish-speaking Cypriot Diaspora in Birmingham UK’, (PhD thesis, University College Cork, 2017). For an explanation of sensory anthropology as a means of corporealizing academic investigation, see David Howe, including Sensual Relations: Engaging the Senses in Culture and Social Theory (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2003). For Mark M. Smith's work on the ways sound impacted how Northerners and Southerners (mis)understood each other during the Civil War era, see Listening to Nineteenth-Century America (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001). Jennifer Stoever has analysed sound's essential role as a ‘critical modality’ through which people ‘(re)produce, apprehend, and resist’ aspects of racial identities. See Stoever, The Sonic Color Line: Race and the Cultural Politics of Listening (New York: New York University Press, 2016).

8 Cizmic, Performing Pain; Joshua D. Pilzer, Hearts of Pine: Songs in the Lives of Three Korean Survivors of the Japanese Comfort Women (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012); Amy Lynn Wlodarski, Musical Witness and Holocaust Representation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015); J. Martin Daughtry, Listening to War: Sound, Music, Trauma, and Survival in Wartime Iraq (New York: Oxford University Press, 2015); see also Jillian C. Rogers, Resonant Recoveries: French Music and Trauma between the Wars (New York: Oxford University Press, 2021). Other discussions of music and sound in relation to trauma include: ‘Musicology and Trauma Studies: Perspectives for Research and Pedagogy’, panel presented at American Musicological Society, Rochester, New York, 2017; ‘Music, War, and Trauma in Britain and France, 1870–1920’, panel presented at ‘Trauma Studies in the Medical Humanities’, Durham, England, 2018; ‘Music, War and Trauma in the Long Nineteenth Century’, panel presented at American Musicological Society, San Antonio, Texas, 2018; ‘Music, Sound, and Trauma: Interdisciplinary Perspectives’, online conference, 2021.

9 Ochoa Gautier notes that listening practices are often dispersed across multiple texts constructed for various purposes: she draws on numerous ‘sites of inscription’ in her case studies (such as travel writing, novels, poems, literary histories, grammars, ethnographies, etc.). See Ana María Ochoa Gautier, Aurality: Listening and Knowledge in Nineteenth-Century Colombia (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2014): 3, 7.

10 Smith, Listening to Nineteenth-Century America. Beyond acknowledging how sounds might linger in nineteenth-century visual culture, Tina M. Campt's work on identification photography and the African diaspora uses sound to disrupt the archive. Drawing on Ariella Azoulay and Paul Gilroy, Campt's work notes the counterintuitive ‘choice to “listen to” rather than simply “look at images” is a conscious decision to challenge the equation of vision with knowledge’; Tina M. Campt, Listening to Images (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2017): 3.

11 Aimée Boutin, City of Noise: Sound and Nineteenth-Century Paris (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2015). The flâneur has been analysed in a number of ways, such as an ‘icon of modernity’ (including the alienations of modernity in an hostile urban space) and as a source of power via the male gaze. For a complication of the flâneur, see Richard Wrigley, ed., The Flâneur Abroad: Historical and International Perspectives (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014).

12 Boutin, Aimée, ‘Aural Flânerie’, Dix-neuf: Journal of the Society of Dix-Neuviémistes 16/2 (2012): 149–61CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Though Boutin clarifies that she does not use the term in this way, she notes Susan Buck-Morris's attention to Adorno's statement describing ‘the station-switching behaviour of the radio listener as a kind of aural flânerie’. Boutin's use of the term ‘soundmarks’ borrows R. Murray Schafer's term for a particular place's unique/specific and meaningful sounds. See Schafer, The Tuning of the World (New York: A.A. Knopf, 1977): 26. While the term ‘soundscape’ has become ubiquitous, I concur with the crucial critiques of Schafer's conceptual model from feminist, anti-imperial, and decolonial perspectives. For more, see Edwin Hill, Jr., Black Soundscapes, White Stages: The Meaning of Francophone Sound in the Black Atlantic (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2013): 12–15 and Dylan Robinson, Hungry Listening: Resonant Theory for Indigenous Sound Studies (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2020), particularly the introduction and chapter four.

13 For a study of anxieties over the changing sound of nineteenth-century Paris, see Blaszkiewicz, Jacek, ‘Listening to the Old City: Street Cries and Urbanization in Paris, ca 1860’, The Journal of Musicology 37/2 (2020): 123–57CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

14 Boutin, City of Noise, 63–66. She analyses 81 rue Saint-Martin in the 4th arrondissement as an example of an older type of confined space which tended to have enclosed resonant areas such as courtyards, stairwells, arcades, passages, etc.

15 Trower cites David Hartley's Observations on Man (1749) as an important early example. See Trower, Senses of Vibration: A History of the Pleasure and Pain of Sound (New York: Continuum, 2012): 94–125.

16 J.B. Fonssagrives, Hygiène et assainissement des villes (Paris: J.B.-Baillière, 1874). Cited in Boutin, City of Noise, 74. For a study on nineteenth-century urban noise in Victorian London, see John M. Picker, Victorian Soundscapes (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003): 41–81. I am grateful to Michelle Meinhart for bringing this source on English sounds in the nineteenth century to my attention.

17 Rogers, Resonant Recoveries, chapter 2.

18 See n. 46 for an example of attempts to control the beating of the rappel (drawing on lessons learned from the 1848 revolutions) and n. 50 for Edmond de Goncourt's recollection of hearing an alarm bell in both 1848 and 1871. For scholarship which details sonic continuities from various waves of French revolution, see Martin Kaltenecker, ‘“What Scenes! What Sounds!” Some Remarks on Soundscapes in War Times’, in Music and War in Europe from French Revolution to WWI, ed. Étienne Jardin (Brepols: Turnhout, 2016): 3–28. Kaltenecker's work contains an excellent bibliography on war and sound. Though her work primarily focuses on the role of music in the later Third Republic, Jann Pasler's analysis of how musics (and musical events) from the French Revolution were repurposed in the late nineteenth century offers an essential contribution to understanding the borrowings and continuities of revolution, music and meaning in the long nineteenth century. See Pasler, Composing the Citizen.

19 Some of these sounds had specifically Parisian meanings, such as the générale. See Peter Starr, Commemorating Trauma: The Paris Commune and its Cultural Aftermath (New York: Fordham University Press, 2006): 21.

20 Daughtry notes ‘the sounds of combat have been a prominent presence in literary depictions of war; documentary accounts and oral histories are similarly saturated with evocations of war's sonic dimension. That sound is regarded as worthy of commentary should not be surprising: armed conflict has been a noisy, grunting, clanging business throughout history’. See Daughtry, Listening to War, 3. For testimony about the singing of the Marseillaise and shouts of ‘To Berlin!’ on 19 July 1870, see actress Sarah Bernhardt, Ma double vie: mémoires de Sarah Bernhardt (Paris: Charpentier et Fasquelle, 1907): 201. This was only one of many instances of public singing broadly linked to the conflict; when Victor Hugo returned from exile on 5 September 1870, for example, a crowd flooded the streets singing the ‘Marseillaise’ and reciting extracts from Les Châtiments. Starr, Commemorating Trauma, 62. Many testimonies of the period include details about such belliphonic sounds on Paris's streets: see, for example, Lilli Hegermann-Lindencrone, In the Courts of Memory, 1858–1875 from Contemporary Letters (Garden City: Garden City Publishing, 1912): 251; and Nathan Sheppard, Shut Up in Paris (London: Richard Bentley and Son, 1871).

21 For work on concert life during the Commune, see Mordey, Delphine, ‘Moments musicaux: High Culture in the Paris Commune’, Cambridge Opera Journal 22/1 (2010): 1–31CrossRefGoogle Scholar; ‘Auber's Horses: L'Année Terrible and Apocalyptic Narratives’, 19th-Century Music, 30/3 (2007): 213–29; ‘Dans le palais du son, on fait de la farine: Performing at the Opéra during the 1870 Siege of Paris’, Music & Letters 93/1 (2012): 1–28. See also Tyre, Jess, ‘Music in Paris during the Franco-Prussian War and the Commune’, The Journal of Musicology 22/2 (2005): 173–202CrossRefGoogle Scholar. For work on the Commune and popular song, see Jean-Baptiste Weckerlin, ‘L'Histoire en chansons, 1870–1871–1872’, La Chronique Musicale, 15 July 1873; Georges Coulonges, La Commune en chantant (Paris: Les Éditeurs français réunis, 1970); Robert Brécy, La Chanson de la Commune: chansons et poèmes inspirés par la Commune de 1871 (Paris: Les editions ouvrières, 1991). Kimberly White and Kathleen Hulley focused on café-concert singers during this period in ‘Singing the Nation: Amiati, Bordas, and the chanson patriotique of the Café-Concert’, paper presented at American Musicological Society National Meeting, Rochester, New York, November 2017.

22 Kaltenecker, ‘What Scenes! What Sounds!‘.

23 In protest of France's Second Empire, Hugo had lived abroad since 1851 – he returned to widespread acclaim upon the fall of the Empire in September 1870. Hugo reflected on the events of this pivotal year in his poetry cycle entitled L'Année Terrible (Paris: Michel Lévy, frères, 1872). For more on Hugo's work, see Starr, Commemorating Trauma, chapter 3.

24 Legrand du Saulle's comments (included as the appendix to his larger work on folie) were first given at a medical society meeting on 26 June 1871 in the immediate aftermath of the Commune. Henri Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persécutions: Appendice: De l'état mental des habitants de Paris pendant les événements de 1870–1871 (Paris: Henri Plon, 1871): 488: ‘Le trouble des esprits est à son comble’. All translations by the author, unless otherwise attributed.

25 ‘véritables victimes d'illusions sensoriels, ils croient entendre le pas des chevaux des éclaireurs, le tintement sinistre du tocsin ou le sifflet de l'avant-garde ennemie, et s'imaginant qu'ils vont être pris et passés immédiatement par les armes, ils courent se cacher dans quelque coin obscur. A ce moment, on observe quelques cas de suicide aigu’; Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persécutions, 488.

26 Théophile Gautier, Tableaux de Siège (Paris: Charpentier, 1871): 120–21.

27 Anonymous, Life in Paris before the War and during the Siege (London: Diprose and Bateman, 1871): 57.

28 De Goncourt wrote about how the siege affected his mind and ability to grieve on 3 October 1870. See Edmond de Goncourt, Paris under Siege, 1870–1871: From the Goncourt Journal, ed. and trans. by George J. Becker, with a historical introduction by Paul H. Neik (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1969): 92–3.

29 De Goncourt, Paris under Siege, 93.

30 De Goncourt, Paris under Siege, 177–8.

31 Felix Whitehurst, My Private Diary during the Siege of Paris (London: Tinsley Bros, 1875): II: 158.

32 De Goncourt, Paris under siege, 177.

33 The composer Vincent d'Indy included a detailed account of the bombardment's beginnings, noting that on the afternoon of 5 January he counted 38 detonations in a minute. See d'Indy, Histoire du 105e Bataillon de la Garde Nationale de Paris en l'année 1870–1871, par un engagé volontaire dudit bataillon âgé de 19 ans (Paris: Charles Douniol et Cie, 1872): 93. For description of the locations particularly effected, see Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persecutions (Paris: Henri Plon, 1871): 498.

34 Robert Tombs, The War Against Paris, 1871 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981): 21.

35 d'Indy, Histoire du 105e Bataillon, 93–117.

36 ‘Je ne connais rien de plus affreusement fatal que ce sifflement des obus: on ne peut donner la description de la sensation plus que désagréable que ce bruit fait éprouver: on ressent comme un malaise‘; d'Indy, Histoire du 105e Bataillon, 95.

37 ‘Mais il est difficile de s'habituer à ce sifflement fatal, inflexible, inexorable des obus. (Epithètes qui caractérisent très bien l'impression que l'on ressent.) Pour nous, bien que nous l'ayions entendu des milliers de fois, au dernier comme au premier jour du bombardement, nous ne pouvions nous empêcher de frissonner, et nous sentions une sueur froide nous parcourir tout le corps, à l'audition de ce terrible crescendo. Ce n’était pas de la peur: car les vieux matelots-canonniers qui servaient nos pièces de marine nous avouaient éprouver la même sensation’; d'Indy, Histoire du 105e Bataillon, 100–101.

38 See Laurent Tatu and Julien Bogousslavsky, ‘World War I Psychoneuroses: Hysteria Goes to War’, in Hysteria: the Rise of an Enigma, ed. Julien Bogousslavsky (Basel: Karger, 2014): 157–68.

39 In the context of twenty-first-century wars, J. Martin Daughtry has analysed how listening to belliphonic sounds can be a source of trauma through hearing loss, PTSD, and other injuries. He argues that, in wartime, sound is not only a source of knowledge (‘a source of situational awareness that might increase survival’) but also a weapon and source of danger. See Listening to War, 1–12. Suzanne Cusick has studied the use of music in the war on terror, including ‘“You are in a place that is out of the world …”: Music in the Detention Camps of the ‘Global War on Terror’, Journal of the Society for American Music 2/1 (2008): 1–26. See also Steve Goodman, Sonic Warfare: Sound, Affect, and the Ecology of Fear (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2009).

40 Memoirs from Parisian residents testify to the impacts of the shelling. Suffering from interrupted sleep, De Goncourt complained of migraines and mental fog due to the bombardment; see Paris under Siege, 187–8, 198. Some reported more mixed feelings: Nathan Sheppard wrote that on 18 January he ‘spent the day in watching and dodging shells’, noted his fascination, and that we are ‘alternately hilarious and terrified. The moment the peculiar whiz and whir of a coming shell is heard, everybody falls faceforemost upon the pavement.’ Shut Up in Paris, 220–21.

41 ‘En proie à une panophobie réelle, à des illusions et à des hallucinations de la vue et de l'ouïe, aux conceptions délirantes de l'ordre le plus lugubre, à de l'hyperesthésie cutanée et à des tremblements de tous les membres, ils arrivent au Dépôt municipal des aliénés le corps infléchi en avant, dans l'attitude de la plus navrante douleur, pleurant, gémissant et répétant toujours les mêmes mots: Ah! mon Dieu, mon Dieu. – Tout est perdu! – Qu'est -ce que je vais devenir?; Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persécutions, 498.

42 He added that individuals suffering from mélancolie avec stupeur were also prone to terrifying hallucinations and attempted self-harm, mutilation and suicide: ‘Cette sorte de suspension ou d'anéantissement temporaire de toutes les facultés, dont on est témoin dans la mélancolie avec stupeur, a été signalée par les auteurs anciens et aurait été vue dans des cas de commotion profonde, d’événement extraordinaire subit, de joie excessive ou de frayeur extrême’; Legrand du Saulle’, Le délire des persécutions, 500–501.

43 This may be related to Legrand du Saulle's note that traumatic responses to the shelling were not homogenous; he mentions that some Parisians maintained a sort of patriotic resilience through the intense cold, bombardment, siege and epidemics of January 1871; Le délire des persecutions, 498–502. Belief that certain individuals were more ‘susceptible’ to trauma – usually with concomitant stigmatization, accusations of weakness or cowardice, etc. – was still very much part of the discourse during World War I. For a detailed study of how World War I-era conceptions of shell shock intersected with earlier ideas about hysteria, heredity, social class and physical/mental fitness in a British context, see Peter Leese, Shell Shock: Traumatic Neurosis and the British Soldiers of the First World War (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2002).

44 Souques trained under Charcot and was his last resident; he also took up a position at the Salpêtrière after Charcot's death in 1893. For the original study, see Souques, Achille-Alexandre and Rosanoff–Saloff, Inna, ‘La camptocormie: incurvation du tronc, consécutive au traumatismes du dos et des lombes; considérations morphologiques’, Revue neurologique 23–24 (1915): 937–9Google Scholar.

45 There are a number of different, extremely specific accounts of this morning in Montmartre. Gay Gullickson analyses many of these accounts and the ways sonic memories of 18 March varied for each author; see Gay Gullickson, Unruly Women of Paris: Images of the Commune (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996).

46 There were many sonically significant uprisings throughout the year. In February 1871, for example, Parisians angry with the armistice terms gathered in the Place de la Bastille. Under normal order, the rappel (a drum signal which summoned National Guard members from a particular arrondissement) was only beaten at the urging of the government – the 1848 revolutions were encouraged in part by spontaneous beating of the rappel. In February 1871, the rappel was beaten illegally in working class and leftist areas of Belleville, the Faubourg du Temple and the Latin Quarter. See Tombs, War against Paris, 27; and Jonathan M. House, Controlling Paris: Armed Forces and Counter-Revolution, 1789–1848 (New York: New York University Press, 2014).

47 Georges E.B. Clemenceau, Clemenceau: The Events of His Life as Told by Himself to His Former Secretary, Jean Martet, trans. Milton Waldman (London: Longmans, Green, 1930): 171; and Edmond Lepelletier, Histoire de la Commune de 1871, 3 vols, vol. 1, Le dix-huit mars (Paris: Mercure de France, 1911): 417. Cited in Gullickson, Unruly Women of the Commune, 30–31.

48 In her careful reading of the manifold accounts of 18 March, Gullickson provides an excellent analysis of how accounts detailing the genesis of the Commune were subject not only to different interpretations in 1871, but also how historical revision and reshaping of the narrative occurred over time. Gullickson, Unruly Women of the Commune, 35.

49 Smith, Listening to Nineteenth-Century America, 29.

50 De Goncourt's reference to Notre Dame's ‘great bell’ refers to Emmanuel, a 13-ton bourdon recast in 1681 (the only bell of Notre Dame that was not removed or destroyed during the French Revolution). De Goncourt, Paris under Siege, 231.

51 Lissagaray, History of the Commune, 128–9. Augustine-Melvine Blanchecotte likewise mentions the trumpets, drums and fanfares on 27 March in Tablettes d'une femme pendant la Commune (Paris: Didier, 1872): 23–24.

52 Lissagaray, History of the Paris Commune of 1871, 191. This scene is also mentioned in Gullickson, Unruly Women of Paris, 83 and Howard Brown, Mass Violence and the Self: From the French Wars of Religion to the Paris Commune (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2018): 196–7.

53 Elihu Benjamin Washburne, Recollections of a Minister to France, 1869–1877 (London: Sampson Low, 1887): vol. 2: 100.

54 De Goncourt, Paris Under Siege, 256.

55 De Goncourt, Paris Under Siege, 292. Italics in original. An extreme case of the psychological toll of this period is (potentially) the death of composer Daniel Auber; although the actual circumstances of composer Auber's death were mysterious, he died sometime during this period, on May 12 or 13. Much of the press coverage of Auber's passing blamed his death on the events of the year in general and the Commune in particular. See Gustave Lafargue, ‘Courrier des théâtres – quelques détails sur Auber racontés par M. Oscar Comettant’, Le Figaro, 30 June 1871; and Lilli Hegermann-Lindencrone, In the Courts of Memory, 334. Both are cited by Delphine Mordey, who provides an overall analysis of the circumstances and meanings attached to Auber's death. ‘Auber's Horses’, 214–17.

56 Lissagaray, History of the Paris Commune, 311. Edward Malet, secretary at the British embassy, likewise noted the cessation of the bombardment as important sonic information. Using his ears to glean the changing tides of battle, he heard the crack of small arms in the Champs-Élysées – from this, he knew the Versaillais troops had entered the city; Edward Malet, Shifting Scenes (London: Murray, 1901): 318–19.

57 Tombs, War Against Paris, 149.

58 See Alain Corbin, Village Bells: Sound and Meaning in the Nineteenth-Century French Countryside (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998): 192–201.

59 For more on the Ministry's hesitancy to ring the tocsin, see Lissagaray, History of the Commune, 310.

60 De Goncourt, Paris under Siege, 294.

61 ‘Les splendeurs de Paris sont en feu. Le tocsin tinte jour et nuit. Le canon tonne dans la rue. Les poudrières font explosion. La fusillade est partout’; Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persécutions, 510.

62 Blanchecotte, Tablettes d'une femme, 277.

63 Lindencrone, In the Courts of Memory, 326, 334.

64 Louise Michel, The Red Virgin: Memoirs of Louise Michel, ed. and trans. Bullitt Lowry and Elizabeth Ellington Gunter (Alabama: University of Alabama Press, 1981): 66.

65 Although my analysis foregrounds sound as a means of trauma, analysing the sensory impact of the Commune's fires – and the ways lack of vision impacted Parisians – aligns with David Howe's call for attention to the interplay (rather than isolation) of the senses. See Howe, Sensual Relations, xi.

66 Daughtry discusses this same effect in the context of the Iraq War. See Daughtry, Listening to War, 33–6.

67 In Susanne Cusick's analysis of music in US detention camps, her examples demonstrate that loud music was often used in tandem with some sort of visual deprivation (such as strobe lights or rooms painted black) in order to intensify the psychological impacts of these devices. See Cusick, ‘You are in a place that is out of the world’.

68 Malon, La troisième défaite du prolétariat français (Neuchâtel: Guillaume, 1871): 466. Cited in Brown, Mass Violence and the Self, 192.

69 Diary held by King's College, London. Cited in Joanna Richardson, Paris under Siege: A Journal of the Events of 1870–1871 (London: The Folio Society, 1982): 182, 186.

70 Colombier also echoed typical anti-Communard propaganda concerning the pétroleuse (a myth that working class women set the fires in Paris), stating ‘there was nothing but the sarabande of the pétroleuses round the ruins, trampling the resplendent shreds of that dazzling and gallant glory: The Second Empire’. See Marie Colombier, Mémoires: Fin d'Empire (Paris: Ernest Flammarion, 1898): 319–20, cited and translated in Mordey, ‘Moments musicaux’, 25–6. For more on the myth of the pétroleuse, see Gullickson, Unruly Women, 159–90.

71 Many of these executions were settled in prevotal courts, which dispensed the death penalty with no chance of review. Lissagaray, History of the Paris Commune, 383–5.

72 Nadar [pseudonym of Gaspard-Félix Tournachon], ‘Enquête sur la Commune’, Revue blanche, 15 March to 1 April 1897, 228–30. Quoted in Laure Godineau, La Commune de Paris par ceux qui l'on vécue (Paris: Parigramme, 2010): 233–4; and Brown, Mass Violence and the Self, 198.

73 Scholars have analysed how the lack of a body – or a specific space, or a monument – can interfere with the mourning process. Sigmund Freud touched on this in his 1917 essay ‘On Mourning and Melancholia’. See Freud, ‘Mourning and Melancholia’, in The Standard Edition of the Complete Works of Sigmund Freud, trans. James Strachey (London Institute of Psycho-analysis, 1953–1974): , vol. 14: 243–58. For work on Freud that connects his ideas to societal mourning and memorials, see Vamik Volkan, ‘Not Letting Go: From Individual Perennial Mourners to Societies with Entitlement Ideologies’, in On Freud's ‘Mourning and Melancholia’, ed. Leticia Glocer Fiorini, Thierry Bokanowski and Sergio Lewkowicz, foreword by Ethel Spector Person (London: The International Psychoanalytic Association, 2007): 90–109. For a study that discusses World War I mourning practices (which sometimes necessitated mourning without a body), see Jay Winter, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). Many scholars have also focused on how disappeared bodies affect mourners; see, for example, Taiana, Cecilia, ‘Mourning the Dead, Mourning the Disappeared: The Enigma of the Absent-Presence’, International Journal of Psychoanalysis 95/6 (2014): 1087–1107CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed.

74 Many accounts of this period noted terrible smells as well; a ‘cadaverous odour’ lingered along the southwest edge of the city well into June. Lissagaray noted the numerous ‘flesh-flies’ and dead birds filling the city, and Le Temps wrote that a ‘decayed, sickening odour arose’ near the Tour Saint-Jacques. Lissagary, History of the Paris Commune, 390–93.

75 ‘Cette nuit, entre minuit et une heure, singuliers roulements d'omnibus sourds, lugubres, étranges, auxquels on ne peut se méprendre quand on les a une fois entendus; ce sont, à travers Paris, des déterrements de morts … Ce bruit d'obus, que je croyais incomparable, n’était qu'une musique innocente à côté de ces derniers bruits. Le plus navrant, le plus inoubliable a été – entre Panthéon et Luxembourg – le bruit nocturne, tout une semaine, des feux incessants de peloton, ces rapides décisions de la justice humaine …’; Blanchecotte, Tablettes d'une femme, 348–9.

76 ‘La population est supposée endormie. Bienheureux, oh! oui, bienheureux ceux qui dorment! L'affreuse besogne s'imagine être silencieuse, comme elle s'imagine être sans témoins’; Blanchecotte, Tablettes d'une femme, 349.

77 Brown, Mass Violence and the Self, 177–91.

78 ‘La vibration du canon durait encore dans les oreilles, l’ébranlement des esprits ne s'apaisait point, l'accablement de la ville morte persistait malgré le réveil des consciences arrachées aux torpeurs récentes’; Blanchecotte, Tablettes d'une femme, vii. Hegermann-Lindencrone, who fled Paris as soon as la semaine sanglante was over, likewise noted she could still hear screams and bursting shells in her mind by mid-June. In the Courts of Memory, 335.

79 Wilson, Paris and the Commune, 82.

80 Kaltenecker gives two interesting examples: one, the absence of bells ringing around Saint-Dénis and silence in the streets, and second, bugles and other types of music in places where you would not normally hear them. ‘What Scenes! What Sounds!’, 9.

81 Smith, Listening to Nineteenth-Century America, 307.

82 This lack of distinction is not unusual for certain kinds of conflicts; Smith notes how these were blurred categories during the US Civil War as well, when civilians suffered aural impacts during events such as the siege of Vicksburg. See Smith, The Smell of Battle, The Taste of Siege: A Sensory History of the Civil War (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015): 95–7. There are many other examples of the sonic and traumatic effects of bombings on ‘civilian’ populations during wartime, such as the bombardment of Paris in spring 1918.

83 Laurent's report appeared in the Revue médicale of 28 September 1872, and was then quoted in Claude-Joseph Tissot's La folie considérée surtout dans ses rapports avec la psychological normale (Paris: A. Marescq Ainé, 1877): 396–7. Both of these works are cited in Glazer, Catherine, ‘De la Commune comme maladie mentale’, Romantisme 48 (1985): 6370CrossRefGoogle Scholar. One of the contested elements was that (allegedly) there was a paradoxical decrease in the total number of patients housed in French asylums; as Glazer analyses, commentators such as Tissot attributed this (in an obviously biased reading) to the fact that most Communards must have been ‘mad’ and thus deportations and executions lessened the total number of asylum inmates.

84 ‘Les journées sinistres de la fin de cette année, la crise farouche qui secoue Paris au début de l'an qui suivit, rejetèrent la pauvre femme à son effroyable névrose, exacerbée par les souffrances du siège et les terreurs de la Commune … La guerre civile. On ne tue pas seulement des corps, mais des esprits, et la pensée a ses cadavres ambulants’; Claretie, Les Amours d'un interne (Paris: A Dentu, 1881): 93. This novel was written ten years after the Commune, though Claretie himself had first-hand experience of the events of this year (he had served as a reporter during the conflict). Claretie's work is noted in Glazer, ‘De la Commune’, 67, and Brown, Mass Violence and the Self, 30.

85 Morel provides case studies of both men and women in his text, though he opines that this particular kind of anxiety occurred more often in women – a statement that should be analysed both through the complex histories of gender, pathology and madness in nineteenth-century France and through the understanding that asylums in Rouen were segregated (Saint-Yon for women and Quatre Mares for men). Bénédict-Augustin Morel, Du délire panophobique des aliénés gémisseurs: Influence des événements de la guerre sur la manifestation de cette forme de folie. Mémoire lu à la Société médico-psychologique dans la séance du 26 Juin 1871 (Paris: E. Donnaud, 1871): 5–6.

86 ‘les habitations, entourées de grands arbres pour les préserver des vents de mer, sont assez généralement séparées les uns des autres. D'une ferme à l'autre il était parfois difficile de savoir ce qui se passait, et cet isolement n'empêchait pas la circulation des bruits les plus alarmants’; Morel, Du délire panophobique, 26.

87 ‘Ils ont la figure crispée, grimaçante des pleureurs, mais ils ne versent pas de larmes. D'autres restent accroupis avec leurs vêtements relevés par dessus la tête. Le seul signe de vie qu'ils donnent est de gémir d'après un rhythme invariable avec accompagnement de tel ou tel geste automatique qui finit par passer à l’état de tic et à s'harmoniser avec leurs gémissements. Enfin l'immobilité extrême des terrifiées, immobilité que j'ai appelée cadavérique dans quelques cas extrêmes, constitue l’habitus extérieur de certains panophobes qui ont passé des mois à gémir et à répéter incessamment la même phrase’; Morel, Du délire panophobique, 4.

88 Morel, Du délire panophobique, 10–11. For a description of lypémanie, see Jean-Étienne Dominique Esquirol, Des maladies mentales considérées sous les rapports médical, hygiénique et médico-légal (Bruxelles: Méline, Cans et Compagnie, 1838).

89 See Étienne-Jean Georget, De la Folie: Considérations sur cette maladie (Paris: Chez Crevot, 1820) and Esquirol, Des maladies mentales.

90 See, for example, the monograph by psychiatrist Claude-Étienne Bourdin, Influence des événements politiques sur la production de la folie (Paris: Delahaye, 1873); cited in Glazer, ‘De la Commune’, 64.

91 Bourdin, Influence des événements politiques, 10, and Tissot, La Folie, 388; cited in Glazer, ‘De la Commune’, 66.

92 See Hippolyte Taine, Les origines de la France contemporaine, vol. 2 (Paris: Librairie Hachette, 1878). The literature on Taine is voluminous, but for an intriguing analysis connecting dance/gesture to social and political movements, see Kélina Gotman, Choreomania: Dance and Disorder (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018): 112–38.

93 Gustave Le Bon, Psychologie des Foules (Paris: Félix Alcan, 1895); cited in Glazer, ‘De la Commune’, 68.

94 Morel wrote one of the most widely-circulated psychological treatises on degeneracy, attempting to connect various period ideas on pathology with family history and heredity. See Bénédict-Augustin Morel, Traité des dégénérescences physiques, intellectuelles et morales de l'espèce humaine et des causes qui produisent ces variétés maladives (Paris: Baillière, 1857). Morel's theories were published in the 1850s, and they permeate his later publications during l'année terrible (including his analysis of the panophobie gémissante of some residents of Normandy).

95 Jean-Baptiste Vincent Laborde, Les hommes et les actes de l'insurrection de Paris devant la psychologie morbide: Lettres à M. le docteur Moreau (Paris: Baillière, 1872): 3. For an analysis of how Laborde's study of the movements of bodies is connected to nineteenth-century concerns about mobs, see Gotman, Choreomania, 116–17.

96 August Vigouroux and Paul Juquelier, La contagion mentale (Paris: Octave Doin, 1905). The concept of emotions (and indeed, trauma itself) as contagious continued well into World War I. For more on this period, see Rogers, Resonant Recoveries, chapter 1.

97 See Esquirol, Des maladies mentales, 67. Several of Esquirol's ideas are explicitly cited in Morel's June 1871 report on ‘panophobia’ and the events of 1870–71; see Du délire panophobique, 27, 38–9.

98 ‘les révolutions sont capables d'amener la terreur, et la terreur peut non-seulement modifier l’état intellectuel des générations présentes, mais s'appesantir encore lourdement, par la voie de l'hérédité, sur les dispositions mentales des générations futures’; Legrand du Saulle, Le délire des persecutions, 512.

99 Elizabeth Rosner gives a cogent introduction to the intergenerational transmission of trauma in her work Survivor Café: The Legacy of Trauma and the Labyrinth of Memory (Berkeley: Counterpoint Press, 2017). Many scholars are working on epigenetic transmission of trauma; for two important studies, see B.T. Heijmans, E.W. Tobi, A.D. Stein, H. Putter, G.J. Blauw, E.S. Susser and L.H. Lumey, ‘Persistent Epigenetic Differences Associated with Prenatal Exposure to Famine in Humans’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences U S A 105/44 (4 Nov. 2008): 17,046–9, and Yehuda, Rachel and Lehrner, Amy L., ‘Cultural Trauma and Epigenetic Inheritance’, Development and Psychopathology 30/5 (2018): 1,763–77Google Scholar. For work on nineteenth-century war's potential effects on subsequent generations, see Costa, Dora L., Yetter, Noelle and DeSomer, Heather, ‘Intergenerational Transmission of Paternal Trauma Among US Civil War Ex-POWS’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 115/44 (2018): 11,215–20Google ScholarPubMed.

100 Charcot, Jean-Baptiste, ‘Charcot in the Franco-Prussian War’, The Military Surgeon: Journal of the Association of Military Surgeons of the United States 59 (1926): 153–4Google Scholar. Cited in Olivier Walusinski, ‘Neurology and Neurologists during the Franco-Prussian War (1870–1871)’, in War Neurology, ed Laurent Tatu and Julien Bogousslavsy (Basel: Karger, 2016): 88. This entire account may be apocryphal – Jean-Baptiste Charcot quotes his father's coachman as a source and notes his father “muttered humbug” during this story.

101 See Jean-Martin Charcot, Lécons du mardi à la Salpêtrière (Paris: Publications du ‘Progrès médical’, 1889). For more on Charcot's tantalizing lack of discussion of the Commune and siege, see Glazer, ‘De la Commune’, 63; and Christopher Goetz, Michel Bonduelle and Toby Gelfand, Charcot: Constructing Neurology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995): 179.

102 See Micale, Traumatic Pasts, 15. Charcot's work on male hysteria was preceded by Pierre Briquet's Traité clinique et thérapeutique de l'hystérie (Paris: J.-B Baillière et fils, 1859) and August Klein's De l'hystérie chez l'homme (Paris: Octave Doin, 1880). For a basic account of Charcot's work, see Goetz, Bonduelle and Gelfand, Charcot: Constructing Neurology. For a specific discussion of Charcot and male hysteria, see Micale, ‘Jean-Martin Charcot and les névroses traumatiques’, 115–139. For more on the history of hysteria on France, see Micale, Hysterical Men: The Hidden History of Male Nervous Illness (Harvard: Harvard University Press, 2008).

103 Micale tallies 60 case reports of male hysteria between 1878 and 1893 (28 in Leçons du mardi from 1887 to 1889, then several more cases in early 1890s, then some cases not published but in archival records). Micale notes that socioeconomic identity was important, since all but five of Charcot's case studies were labourers, peasants, etc., not male bourgeois subjects. Micale, Hysterical Men, 123, 130. Charcot did believe there was a hereditary component to hysteria; see, for example, his note regarding the ‘influence fatale de l'hérédité’, when talking to a young man with a tic from Normandy; Leçons du mardi, 126.

104 While Charcot claims D … cy's symptoms are neurasthénie cérébro-spinale, what he describes very much sounds like depression prompted by grief (the man's mother had died the year before). Charcot, Leçons de mardi, vol. 2, 437–8.

105 ‘où la foudre, dit-il, tonnait autant que le canon … il prit part à la prise du cimetière du Père-Lachaise où “les obus pleuvaient dru”’; Charcot, Leçons de mardi, vol. 2, 437.

106 ‘[D … cy] mais ce que je me rappelle bien c'est que le bruit ressemblait à un coup de canon accompagné du fracas que feraient en tombant sur le sol des milliers d'assiettes … [M. Charcot] il n'avait ni tremblé, ni pleuré à Puebla alors que tonnerre et canon à l'envi faisaient rage, il n'avait pas pleuré non plus au Père Lachaise, lorsqu'un obus est venu éclater près de lui. Mais depuis qu'il a été « touché » par la foudre, une transformation radicale s'est produite en lui : le voilà devenu émotif à l'excès, pleurard ; désormais sous l'influence de la moindre émotion on le voit fondre en larmes’; Charcot, Leçons de mardi, vol. 2, 438, 440.

107 Micale, Hysterical Men, 140.

108 Micale, ‘Jean-Martin Charcot and les névroses traumatiques’, 122.

109 See, for example, Léopold Jannet, De l'hystérie chez l'homme (Paris: Medical Dissertation, 1880); Victor-Félix Quinqueton, De l'hystérie chez l'homme (Paris: Medical Dissertation, 1885); Emile Duponchel, ‘L'Hystérie dans l'armée’, Revue de médecine, 6 June 1886; and Émile Duponchel, Traité de Médecine Légale militaire (Paris: Octave Doin, 1890).

110 Janet published a number of works on this topic in the 1890s, but see especially Pierre Janet, L'Automatisme psychologique (Paris: Felix Alcan, 1889) and Névroses et idées fixes (Paris: F. Alcan, 1898).

111 See Janet, L'Automatisme psychologique (1889) and Janet, État mental des hystériques: les accidents mentaux (Paris: Rueff et Cie, 1894). Micale describes Janet's ‘dissociation’ as a ‘splitting of the personality, as the primary psychopathological result of these memories’, Traumatic Pasts, 14.

112 ‘il a gardé de cette nuit un souvenir plein d'horreur … la dysesthésie qui s'est développée semble bien en rapport avec la première émotion éprouvée en 1870, l'impression de froid persistant aux points saillants du côté gauche qui ont porté sur la glace, mais elle ne semble avoir aucun rapport avec la seconde aventure, la nuit passée près du malade, et cependant c'est après cette seconde émotion qu'elle s'est développée. C'est là, comme nous l'avons souvent dit, un fait extrêmement fréquent: une émotion affaiblit la force de résistance de ces malades et amène le développement, la manifestation d'un autre phénomène quelquefois bien antérieur, provoqué par une émotion bien plus ancienne et qui était resté latent tant que le cerveau était plus valide’; Névroses et idées fixes, 300–302. Janet noted the soldier did not have any ‘hereditary disposition’ towards mental illness.

113 Brown, Mass Violence and the Self, 191. Communarde Louise Michel's memoirs offer a particularly fascinating example of traumatic witness: she pieces together anecdotes non-chronologically ‘as they come to mind’, moving from historical events to dreams to poetry to recurrent exclamations of grief. See Louise Michel, Mémoires de Louise Michel écrits par elle-même. Her writings are translated and (heavily) edited by Bullitt Lowry and Elizabeth Ellington Gunter as The Red Virgin: Memoirs of Louise Michel (Alabama: University of Alabama Press, 1981). Lowry and Gunter substantially altered Michel's approach to her story; the preface explains they took Michel's nonlinear narrative and combined repetitions (including those related to grief), removed interpolations and reordered it to create a chronological account.

114 Wilson, Paris and the Commune, 36–7.

115 See Dori Laub, ‘Truth and Testimony: The Process and the Struggle’, in Trauma: Explorations in Memory, ed. Cathy Caruth, 61–75 (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1995): 64, and Cizmic, Performing Pain, 5.

116 For more on the connections between trauma and testimony, see Dominick LaCapra, Writing History, Writing Trauma and Cathy Caruth's edited volume Trauma: Explorations in Memory; Caruth's introductory essay and the chapters by Shoshana Felman and Dori Laub are particularly focused on testimony. For connections between nineteenth-century trauma, testimony and music, see the contributions from Elizabeth Morgan and Michelle Meinhart in this issue.

117 Alexander, Cultural Trauma, 1–3. Alexander also incorporates ideas of Arthur Neal from National Trauma and Collective Memory: Major Events in the American Century (Armonk: M.E. Sharpe, 1998).

118 Kai Erikson, Everything in Its Path: Destruction of Community in the Buffalo Creek Flood (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1976): 154. See also Erikson, ‘Notes on Trauma and Community’, in Trauma: Explorations in Memory, ed. Cathy Caruth (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995): 183–99.

119 Shoshana Felman and Dori Laub, Testimony: Crises of Witnessing in Literature, Psychoanalysis, and History (New York: Routledge, 1992): xv.

120 Micale, Traumatic Pasts, 20.

121 Changing approaches to memory in this period ranged from Théodule Ribot's Diseases of Memory: An Essay in the Positive Psychology (1883) to Proust's subsequent musings on involuntary memory to Maurice Halbwachs's work on collective memory. Allan Young has analysed how a new kind of traumatic memory – grounded in repression and dissociation – likewise merged at the fin-de-siècle. See Young, Harmony of Illusions, 1.

122 Lissagary, History of the Commune, 392. In his work on World War I and cultural memory, Jay Winter analyses the role of rituals at memorial sites and calls attention to the use of silence within those rites. While Winter notes many continuities with nineteenth-century practices, much of his analysis turns on the continued role of religion and spiritualism in the early twentieth century. The ritual at the mur des fédérés offers an intriguing counter-example as a markedly secular ritual that nonetheless borrows similar practices. See Winter, Sites of Memory, 119–203.

123 The description of this as a pilgrimage was already present in the 1880s. For a recent study of ‘la montée’ as secular pilgrimage, see Frégosi, Franck, ‘La “montée” au Mur des Fédérés du Père-Lachaise: Pèlerinage laïque partisan’, Archives de sciences sociales des religions 155/3 (2011): 155Google Scholar.

124 ‘La Manifestation du Père-Lachaise’, La Justice, 29 May 1893, 2. Over the course of the twentieth century, the manifestations at Père-Lachaise were attended by a gamut of (primarily left-wing) political groups. Both Robert Gildea and Howard Brown have argued that when la semaine sanglante ‘became a collective memory of trauma’, it assisted in developing a particular French working-class consciousness. See Brown, Mass Violence & the Self.

125 For an account of the difficulties with the first year's ‘commemoration/protest’, see L. Boussenard, ‘La Manifestation du 23 mai’, La Justice, 25 May 1880. This protest seems to have been marked by silence, perhaps in an attempt to evade police attention: pilgrims were only allowed to enter in small groups. In 1885 there was an armed confrontation between the police and the pilgrims – see S.L., ‘Au Père Lachaise’, La Justice, 25 May 1885. In 1888, there was a shooting at the ceremony. In 1894, armed guards patrolled the cemetery. The rule, according to the Préfecture of Police, was that ‘le préfet de police, après avoir pris les instructions du ministre de l'intérieur, a décidé que les mesures d'ordre seront les mêmes que dimanche dernier. On ne laissera pénétrer dans le cimetière que les porteurs de couronnes. Ils seront autorisés à les déposer au mur des Fédérés, à la condition qu'ils ne soient suivis aucun cortège et qu'il ne soit pas prononcé de discours’; ‘La manifestation d'aujourd’hui’, La Justice, 4 June 1894. In 1895, ‘tous défilent en silence sous l’œil inquiet des officiers de paix’; ‘La manifestation d'hier’, La Justice, 28 May 1895. For an account of a speech being silenced, see ‘Au Mur des Fédérés’, La Justice, 25 May 1897. See the coverage in 1900, complete with a brawl with the police, in ‘Au Mur des Fédérés’, La Justice, 29 May 1900. Revolutionary songs, such as ‘La Ravachole’, a reworking of ‘La Carmagnole’ in honour of François Ravachol, were generally forbidden. See Richard D.E. Burton, Blood in the City: Violence and Revelation in Paris, 1789–1945 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001): 147–8. Robert Gildea notes that ‘the SFIO (Section Française de l'Internationale Ouvrière) resumed the cult of the Paris Commune in 1908, following a decision by the municipality of Paris not to use the plot near the Mur des Fédérés for private graves. A plaque in memory of the Commune was placed on the wall in 1909’; Gildea, The Past in French History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994): 45, 48.

126 Hubert Rohault de Fleury, Historique de la Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, vol. 1 (Paris: Bibliothèque Nationale, 1903): 88 n. 4. Translation cited in Harvey, David, ‘Monument and Myth’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers 69/3 (1979): 377CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

127 For more on Sacré-Cœur, see Harvey, ‘Monument and Myth’; Burton, Blood in the City, 147–8; Jonas, Raymond A., ‘Monument as Ex-Voto, Monument as Historiosophy: The Basilica of Sacré-Cœur’, French Historical Studies 18/2 (1993): 482–502CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

128 Jean Roger-Ducasse to André Lambinet, letter dated 24 November 1918, in Lettres à son ami André Lambinet, ed. Jacques Depaulis (Hayen: Pierre Mardaga, 2001): 122. I am thankful to Jillian Rogers for suggesting this reference to me.

129 Gildea notes that on the twentieth anniversary of Jean Jaurès's death in 1935, around 200,000 Communists and Socialists marched together to the mur des fédérés. During World War II – despite the occupation of Père Lachaise by Gestapo and French police – the Communists revived the commemoration. L'Humanité clandestine urged readers ‘to tell our illustrious dead that their sons continue the struggle for liberation, that the revolutionary patriots of 1942 know how to fight and die like their fathers in 1871’. See Gildea, The Past in French History, 54.

130 Daughtry, Listening to War, 40.

131 In addition to commenting on the impacts of the Franco-Prussian war, Micale casts a broader gaze on the many potential contributing factors leading to late nineteenth-century French research on trauma. See Micale, Traumatic Pasts, 136–7.

132 Regina M. Sweeney offers one of the best accounts of sonic and musical continuities between the two wars, noting the events of 1914 ‘called forth the same lyrics, cries, and graffiti’ as in 1870. She focuses on the mobilizations in 1870 and 1914, reading them as ritual scripts marked by the ringing of the tocsin and collective participatory singing of songs such the ‘Marseillaise’. See Sweeney, Singing Our Way to Victory: French Cultural Politics and Music During the Great War (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 2001): 47–52.