My retreat ended at Château Mumm, well out of the firing zone, where Gen. Count von Waldersee did the honors in the unavoidable absence of the owner, said to be related to a well-known brand of champagne. On inquiry, I learned that the champagne cellars of Château Mumm were quite empty, but the retreating French were said to have caused the vacuum, not the Germans. Château Mumm's absentee owner will be glad to learn that his property is being well cared for, pending his return. I was interested to note quite recent issues of The London Times, Daily Mail, and London Daily Telegraph on the drawing room table.
"It's very interesting, you know, to read what our enemies are saying about us," a staff officer explained.
Two other items of miscellaneous interest were picked up. From a well informed source I learned that at one stage of the game, the English "Long Toms" were posted to good advantage back of Rheims out of range of the German heavy artillery. Although their lyddite shells were alleged to have been comparatively harmless and did little damage, they were nevertheless silenced on general principles and by a very simple expedient. Every time the "Long Toms" were fired, a few answering shells were sent their way and, of course, falling short, dropped into the city. This gave rise to stories of "furious bombardment of Rheims," but also caused the withdrawal of the "Long Toms" to spare the city.
A General whose name is familiar to every reader of The New York Times said:
"I could take Rheims with my corps in twenty-four hours."
But there was no present advantage in storming it at this time, and certain disadvantages, for in addition to certain strategic reasons, it was explained, the Germans would be saddled with the burden of having to administer and feed the large city.
The "battle of Rheims" looked to me very much like a put-up job, a game of trying to silence one another's batteries and nothing more. A heavy artillery duel is essentially a contest between trained observers trying to get a line on the whereabouts of the enemy's guns, and looking down on Rheims from the German hills, even a lay correspondent could sense the military necessity which would drive the French to make use of the only high spots in town from which you could see anything for observation purposes, and the equally grim necessity for the Germans to dislodge them. I came away with the impression that the world owes a real debt of gratitude to "the friend of the Rheims Cathedral."
Richard Harding Davis's Comment
To the Editor of The New York Times: