We have received to-day some English newspapers, and you may imagine how far behind the age we are from the fact that we learn for the first time that Prince Gortschakoff has put his finger into the pie. Good heavens! I have invested my savings in Turkish Five per cents., and it gives me a cold shiver to think at what figure I shall find these Oriental securities quoted on the Stock Exchange when I emerge from my enforced seclusion and again find myself in communication with the outer world.[1]
December 2nd.
For the last three days the public within the walls of Paris has been kept in profound ignorance of what has been passing outside. General Trochu has once or twice each day published a despatch saying that everything is happening as he anticipated, and the majority of those who read these oracular utterances religiously believe in them as though they had never been deceived. On the Boulevards there are crowds who question any soldier who is seen passing. "Tout va bien" is the only answer which they get; but they seem to be under the impression that the siege is already over, and that the Prussian lines have been forced. Along the road inside the ramparts, and at the gates, there are dense masses listening to the cannon, and on every mound from which a distant view of the smoke can be obtained men, women, and children are congregated. I have managed to get every day into the horse-shoe at the mouth of which the fighting was going on, and yesterday afternoon, when there was a semi-suspension of arms to bury the dead, I went with the ambulances on the debateable land between the two armies. The whole horse-shoe is full of artillery. The bombs and shells from the forts and batteries pass over the French, and explode within the Prussian lines. A little behind, every house is filled with wounded, who are taken, as soon as their wounds are dressed, inside the town. One or two batteries occasionally open fire, and occasionally those of the Prussians respond. Trochu and Ducrot ride about, and, as far as I can see, the latter commands, while the former makes speeches. Yesterday afternoon we had slightly gained ground, beyond however an occasional discharge from our forts and batteries, there was no fighting. Before our lines a very large number of Prussian dead were lying. There were burying parties out on both sides, but they were getting on very slowly with their work, and were perpetually fired on. At 4 A.M. this morning the Prussians made a rush at our lines from Champigny to Brie, and the Mobiles and line, taken by surprise, hastily fell back. One or two regiments of Mobiles were literally charged by squadrons of gendarmerie, to force them back. Reinforcements came up, and by nine o'clock the positions had been regained—the Prussians being unable to withstand the fire of our forts, redoubts, and siege-guns. The battle then went on till about three o'clock, when it died out. Towards Villiers, I should say we had gained about three-quarters of a mile, and at Champigny we had lost about a third of the village. At about five o'clock I got back to my hotel, which is the headquarters of the Ambulance Internationale. Until eleven o'clock wounded were being brought in. It is quite full now. About 460 French, and 30 Germans—almost all Saxons. Many died during the night. In the room, next to mine, Franchetti, the commander of the Eclaireurs of the Seine, is lying—a portion of his hip has been blown away by a shell, and the doctor has just told me that he fears that he will not recover, as the wound is too high up for an operation. In the room beyond him is a young lieutenant of Mobiles, who has had his leg amputated, and his right arm cut open to extract a portion of the bone, and who still has a ball in his shoulder. Most of the soldiers in here are wounded either in the leg or in the arm. There is a great dearth of doctors, and many wounded who were brought here last night had to wait until this morning before their turn came to be examined. The American Ambulance and several others are also, I hear, full. I go in occasionally to see the Germans, as I can talk their language, and it cheers them to hear it. I see in the newspapers that wounded Bavarians and Saxons are perpetually crying "Vive la France!" I can only say that those here do nothing of the kind. They do not seem to be particularly downcast at finding themselves in the hands of their enemies. They are treated precisely as the French are, and they are grateful for this.
It is said this evening that the troops will be withdrawn and return to the Bois de Vincennes. Some say that we have left 20,000 men at Villiers and Champigny; but I take it that our loss does not exceed 6,000 men. The general idea seems to be, that to-morrow we are to try to get out in another direction, either by Chatillon or Malmaison. A pigeon came in this morning from Bourbaki, with a despatch dated Nov. 30, stating that he is advancing, and among the soldiers this despatch has already become an official notice that he is at Meaux. All I know for certain is that the ambulances are ordered out for eight o'clock to-morrow morning, and that I am now going to bed, so as to be ready to start with them. I hear that there has been fighting both yesterday and to-day near Bondy; but not being able to be in two places at once, I cannot tell what really occurred. To my civilian judgment it appears that as our object was to force the line of heights on the south-east of Paris, which constitute the Prussian lines of investment in that direction, and as we have not done so, we can hardly be said to be in a better position than we were last Monday. At a heavy cost of life we have purchased the knowledge that our new artillery is better than was expected, and that Line and Mobiles will stand under fire with tolerable steadiness until their officers are bowled over, when they break. The National Guards were not engaged. General Trochu and General Pisani tried to get some of their battalions over the Marne, but found it impossible. After a long speech from Trochu, Pisani shouted, "Vive la France!" To this they responded; but when he added, "Vive Trochu!" they remained silent, and their commanders declared that this involved political considerations with regard to which they and their men "make certain reservations." They are, however, very proud of having been within two miles of a battle field, and Trochu congratulates them, in an order of the day, upon giving a "moral support" to the army. This is precisely what every one is willing to do. Moral support will not, however, get the Prussians away from Paris.
Food is becoming more scarce every day. Yesterday all our sausages were requisitioned. We have still got the cows to fall back on, but they are kept to the last for the sake of their milk. They are fed on oats, as hay is scarce. So you see the mother of a calf has many advantages over its uncle. All the animals in the Zoological Gardens have been killed except the monkeys; these are kept alive from a vague and Darwinian notion that they are our relatives, or at least the relatives of some of the members of the Government, to whom in the matter of beauty nature has not been bountiful. In the cellar of the English Embassy there are three sheep. Never did the rich man lust more after the poor man's ewe lamb than I lust after these sheep. I go and look at them frequently, much as a London Arab goes to have a smell at a cookshop. They console me for the absence of my ambassador. Some one has discovered that an excellent jelly can be made out of old bones, and we are called upon by the mayors to give up all our bones, in order that they may be submitted to the process. Mr. Powell is, I believe, a contractor in London. I do not know him; but yesterday I dined with a friend who produced from a tin some Australian mutton, which he had bought of Mr. Powell before the commencement of the siege. Better I never tasted, and out of gratitude I give the worthy Powell the benefit of a gratis advertisement. If we only had a stock of his meat here, we could defy the Prussians. As it is, I am very much afraid that in a very few weeks William will date his telegrams to Augusta from the Tuileries.
December 3rd.
I wrote to you in a great hurry last night in order to catch a balloon which was to have gone this morning, but whose departure has been deferred as the wind was not favourable. I am now able to give some more accurate details respecting the affair of Friday, as I have had an opportunity of talking with several of the officers who were on the staffs of the different generals engaged. After the Prussians at 4 A.M. had surprised the whole of the French line from Brie to Champigny, they pushed forward a heavy column between, the latter place and the Marne, thus outflanking their opponents. The column advanced about half-way up the horse-shoe formed by the bend in the river, and would have got as far as the bridges at Joinville, had not General Favé opened fire upon it from a small redoubt which he had built in advance of Joinville, with forty field guns which he rapidly placed in position. Reinforcements were then brought up under General Blanchard, and the column was at length forced back, fighting hard to Champigny. To-day most of the troops in the horse-shoe crossed over the river, and are now either in the wood of Vincennes or in other portions of the line between the forts and the enceinte. General Trochu has returned to the Louvre, and General Ducrot, I hear, yesterday evening expressed his regret that he had published that foolish manifesto, in which he declared that if he did not conquer he would die; for, not having done either, he felt the awkwardness of re-entering the city. Both Ducrot and Trochu freely exposed themselves; the latter received a slight wound in the back of the head from a piece of a shell which struck him. All the officers were obliged to keep well in advance of their soldiers in order to encourage them. The brunt of the fighting fell to the Line; the Mobiles, as a rule, only behaved tolerably well; the Vendeans, of whom much was expected, badly. The only battalion of the National Guards engaged was that from Belleville, and it very speedily fell back. I have always had my doubts about the valour of the Parisians. I found it difficult to believe in men who hunt for pretexts to avoid military service—who are so very fond of marching behind drums and vivandières inside a town, and who, in some way or other, manage either to avoid going out of it, or when forced out, avoid all danger.
The population is in profound ignorance of the real state of affairs outside. It still believes that the Prussian lines have been forced, and that the siege will be over in a few days. I presume that Trochu will make a second sortie in force. Unless, however, his operations are powerfully aided by the armies of the provinces, it is difficult to believe that the result will be anything beyond a useless sacrifice of life. On Friday, it is estimated that our loss amounted to 4,500 wounded, and 600 killed. That of the Prussians must have been very heavy, to judge from the number of dead bodies that were lying about in the fields and woods.
The ambulances were ordered out this morning, and at seven o'clock some 300 victims rendezvoused with the carriages on the Quai, near the Place de la Concorde. After freezing there for about two hours, it was suggested that a messenger should be sent to General Trochu, to ask him whether we were really wanted. The reply was that no attack would be made to-day, and consequently we went off home to thaw. If wars really must be made, I do hope that we shall fall back upon the old system of carrying on military operations in summer. When the thermometer is below zero, I feel like Bob Acres—all my valour oozing out at my fingers' ends. The doctors tell me that many slight wounds have gangrened owing to the cold. When a battle lasts until evening the mass of the wounded cannot be picked up until the next morning, and their sufferings during the night must be terrible. I saw several poor fellows picked up who appeared literally frozen.
The Journal Officiel of to-day contains a letter from Monseigneur Bauer, protesting against the Prussians having shot at him when he went forward with a flag of truce and a trompette. The fact is vouched for by, among others, a journalist who remained during the night of Friday outside the walls. I can easily believe it, for the Prussians are not a chivalrous enemy. They are perpetually firing on ambulances: and, when it suits their own purposes, raising the white flag. If, indeed, one-tenth part of the stories which I hear of their treacheries be true, they ought to be exterminated like wolves. This Monseigneur Bauer is a character. He began life as a German Jew, and he is now a Frenchman and a Christian Bishop. During the Empire he was chaplain to the court, and confessor of the Empress. He is now chaplain of the Ambulances de la Presse, and has under his orders 800 "Frères Chrétiens," who dress as priests, but are not in holy orders. Both he and they display the greatest courage. The Frères Chrétiens are the foremost in picking up the wounded; going forward long before the firing is over. The Bishop prances about on his horse, dressed in a soutane and long boots, the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour on his breast, a golden crucifix hanging from his neck, and a huge episcopal ring on his finger, outside his gloves. Sometimes he appears in a red cloak, which, I presume, is a part of his sacerdotal gear. I am told, by those who know him, that "Monseigneur" is a consummate humbug, but he is very popular with the soldiers, as he talks to them in their own language, and there certainly is no humbug about his pluck. He is as steady under fire as if he were in a pulpit. He was by the side of Ducrot when the general's horse was killed under him.