A number of complications have arisen by discharged servants filing statements against their former employers, denouncing them as "probable spies." Several examples of this have already occurred with prominent American ladies who permanently reside here. I spoke with M. Hennion, the prefect of police, on the subject, and he said that "such malicious accusations"—and he showed me a pile of denunciations nearly a yard high—"were never acted upon, unless under really suspicious circumstances."
One of Mr. Herrick's callers at the American Embassy was Mme. Henri de Sinçay, a grand-daughter of General Logan, of Civil War fame. She is the wife of a French army officer and when the war broke out was living in a chateau near Liege. She fled to Brussels with her child, and then, leaving the latter there with her sister-in-law, came to Paris to say good-by to her husband, who is attached to the aviation corps near Versailles. Now Mme. de Sinçay cannot return to her child, but she is not worrying over the situation and has offered her services to the American Ambulance here in Paris.
The earnest, practical way in which General Victor Constant Michel, Military Governor of Paris, carries out his work, is admirable. General Michel has quietly despatched large numbers of the unruly youths of Belleville, Montmartre, and Montparnasse,—known as the "apaches"—to the country, in small gangs, to reap the wheat harvest, and he also employs them in the government cartridge and ammunition factories. In Paris, they have completely vanished from sight. The prohibition of the drinking and sale of absinthe, not only in Paris, but throughout France, was also due to the foresight of the Military Governor. General Michel, although a rigid disciplinarian and a masterful organizer, is extremely affable and agreeable. He was born at Auteuil in 1850, and after graduation from Saint-Cyr, the French West Point, served in the war of 1870-1871 as second lieutenant of infantry. In 1894 he was made colonel of an infantry regiment and showed such proficiency during the manoeuvers that he became general-of-brigade in 1897. He was made general-of-division in 1902; he is member of the Supreme War Council, and in 1910 was awarded the high distinction of Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor.
Monday, August 24.
Twenty-second day of the war. Hot day with bright blue sky and southeasterly wind. Thermometer at five P.M. 27 degrees centigrade.
Terrific night and day fighting continues on the Sambre and Meuse. The French attack seems to have been repulsed. The allies remain on the defensive, awaiting further German attacks. The losses on both sides are terrible. Some days yet must elapse before the final result of the great battle can be known. Meanwhile, Paris waits with patriotic confidence. Russian victories in East Prussia, the Japanese bombardment of Tsin-Tao, in Kiao-Chow, the advance of the Servians, and the increasing probability of Italy claiming eventually her "irredenta" territory, are all encouraging factors in this world-wide war.
The American volunteers mustered to-day at their recruiting offices in the Rue de Valais and marched to the Invalides, where they passed the French medical test prior to enrolment in the French army. The men are wonderfully fit, and their splendid muscular, wiry physique was greatly admired as they marched through the streets. Out of the two hundred present, only one was not passed by the army surgeons, and even he was not definitely refused. The corps will proceed to-morrow to the Gare Saint-Lazare for entrainment. They will be sent, at first, to Rouen.
M.F.A. Granger, a young Frenchman, arrived to-day in Paris from New York, where he left his wife and family. He sailed on the Rochambeau with many of his countrymen, coming, like himself, to join the colors. M. Granger tells me that he saw near Lisieux a train of German prisoners, mostly cavalrymen, some of whom had been wounded by lance thrusts. They seemed resigned to their fate, without enthusiasm, and on the whole rather pleased at the prospect of being confined and fed in France, instead of remaining at the front. They said that they had no idea that England and Belgium were fighting against them, until they crossed swords with the Belgian cavalry, which they at first supposed were French.
Tuesday, August 25.
This is the twenty-third day of the war. Another warm, sunny day, with northwesterly breezes. Thermometer at five P.M. 24 degrees centigrade.