There were touching scenes at the Legation among the weeping crowd of women. Some left children and grandchildren married to Frenchmen. Some were not in a fit condition to travel, but required the comforts of a home, and tender care. A child was born upon a bench in the street in front of the Legation. (It was suggested to name it after a distinguished American diplomate.) Every thing that energy and kindness of heart could do to facilitate the departure of those poor people, and to mitigate its severity, was done by our minister.
And here let me remark that no one could have been better fitted for the difficult task he was suddenly called upon to undertake than Mr. Washburne. He trusted to the dictates of a sound judgment, a kind heart, and a fearless temperament; and these are pretty safe guides in the long run. Had he been brought up in diplomacy, he would have hesitated and read up for precedents which did not exist, and so let the propitious moment pass. The result of my observation in Europe during ten years of pretty active service is this: that while there should be a permanent officer in every embassy—a chancellier, as he is called in Paris—who can turn promptly to any page of the archives, and is posted in the history of the relations of the country in which he resides with his own; who knows the court ceremonial, and is intimate with the court officials; in short, "who knows the ropes"—it is quite as well that the head of the embassy should be a new man. He will attach much less importance to trifles, and act more fearlessly in emergencies. Great Britain and France have pursued this plan in several instances lately. The old diplomates grumble, but it is clearly for the advantage of the country.
News of reverses now poured in upon us, until they culminated in the great disaster of Sedan. That this should have been so great a calamity—a capitulation instead of a defeat—appears to have been the fault of MacMahon. He was compelled by imperative orders from Paris, and entirely against his own judgment, to go to the relief of Bazaine, and to fight against overwhelming odds. But for the tactical disposition of his forces, by which they were penned up in a cul-de-sac from which they had no line of retreat, he, as commander-in-chief, is apparently responsible. But the French armies seem from the beginning to have been badly organized, badly led, and conscious that they were so, and discouraged accordingly. I have General Sheridan's authority for saying that the position of the French at Sedan was a very strong one; and while it was inevitable that they should be defeated by superior numbers, they ought to have held their ground for three days. I have no doubt that our troops under Sheridan would have done so. He spoke in the highest terms of the gallantry of the French cavalry, which was sacrificed to encourage the infantry. The remark of a distinguished French general upon the Charge of the Six Hundred, "C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre," would have applied equally well to the charge of the cuirassiers at Sedan.
Sheridan accompanied the King's head-quarters. We had asked officially, at the commencement of the war, that he might be permitted to accompany the French army, and been refused. The Emperor subsequently told Dr. Evans that he had never heard of the application. General orders had been issued that no foreign officer should go with the army; but there was surely some difference between the application of an officer for this permission on his own account, and the request of a friendly Government that the Lieutenant-General of its armies might be permitted to accompany the Emperor. The application probably never got beyond the chef du cabinet of the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Nowhere in the world is bureaucracy carried to the extent it is in France. A minister can scarcely appoint a clerk in his office. The chef du bureau is omnipotent in his own department. The Republic promised to change all this; but its ministers, after a gallant effort, have fallen in the struggle, and things move on in the same old groove.
At the battle of Sedan, Sheridan stood near Count Bismarck. Toward its close he shut up his glass, and, turning to Bismarck, said, "The battle is won." The Count replied that he should be glad to think so, but saw no signs of it yet. In a minute or two more the French gave way. Turning his glass toward Sedan, Sheridan observed, "The Emperor is there." Bismarck answered that it could not be; that the Emperor was not such a fool as to place himself in that situation. Looking again, Sheridan said, "He is there, anyhow." He had drawn his conclusions from the immense staff he saw, and the confusion reigning among them.
Sheridan was right. The Emperor and his staff were prisoners of war. The Emperor had behaved with the greatest personal courage, and subsequently, when dissensions arose between the French generals as to who was responsible for the great disaster, he behaved with the greatest generosity. But he should not have been at Sedan. The post of usefulness and of danger for him was at Paris, and not with the army.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
Revolution of September 4th, 1870.—Paris en Fête.—Flight of the Empress.—Saved by Foreigners.—Escapes in an English Yacht.—Government of National Defense.—Trochu at its Head.—Jules Simon.—United States recognizes Republic.—Washburne's Address.—Favre's Answer.—Efforts for Peace.—John L. O'Sullivan.