OUR ADVENTURES 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 BY TWO ENaLiSHwojwEN Emma Maria Pearson and 
 
 ^Louisa Elisabeth MacLaughlin 
 
 Cross of Honour of the French Red Cro 
 ir Medal of Germany^ 
 
 Sa'nitats 
 Gold Cros; 
 
 >uz Militar of : 
 e Order o 
 
 airmstadt 
 
 With extensive Annotations, a Timeline Relating the 
 Authors' Adventures to the Franco-Prussian War & 
 
 a Map Showing where they Tended the Wounded 
 all diligently prepared by 
 
 G. HARRY McLaughlin, Doctor of Philosophy
 
 OUR ADVENTURES 
 
 DURING 
 
 THE WAR OF 1870. 
 
 BY 
 
 EMMA MARIA PEARSON 
 
 AND 
 
 LOUISA ELISABETH MACLAUGHLIN 
 
 ANNOTATED BY G. HARRY McLAUGHLIN* 
 
 * This reprint is unabridged, apart from the oniission of an appendix consisting of commendatory 
 letters in French from the Bishop of Orleans and other notables. 
 
 To add to the enjoyment and edification of present-day readers, 1 have added unscholarly 
 footnotes with information gleaned from standard reference books and reliable-looking web sites, 
 including translations of foreign words not in common English use. I apologise if I sometimes 
 seem to point out the obvious. At the back of the book 1 have provided a Timeline relating the 
 authors' adventures to events in the Franco-Prussian War going on around them, also a Map of the 
 Principal Places Mentioned. 
 
 The text was obtained by optical character recognition of a copy of the book kindly loaned by 
 Major Michael Price, who is, like myself, a great-grandnephew of Louisa McLaughlin. The 
 number of pages has been greatly reduced by using a larger page size than the original's 4^2in.x 
 7 '/sin. I have tried to preserve the original's peculiarities (and occasional inconsistencies) of 
 typography, punctuation and spelling, while correcting a very few obvious pirtner's orrers. Place 
 name spellings in the footnotes conform with The TimesAtlas of the World. 
 I am deeply grateful to my friend and neighbour, Mr. Dennis Barnes, a senior executive of the 
 Xerox Corporation, for help with this project.
 
 A M. \vyMXiviM<!<!>'«<'<'«'^'^0(>w><v'<A> Wi!.»»vv)(.-«W^VA» s\\ ''OWW^MW^^^^^ ♦'"C^WC^V^^NJ^tftSS*."' "^il^ 
 
 •XlV■v.^•^As^*^%^^[A^^vs^ 
 
 
 This engraving appears, without identification, facing the title page, 
 shown in facsimile opposite. It is evidently based on a work by the 
 English watercolourist Samuel Prout (1783-1852). He travelled through 
 France, Germany and Belgium, making topographical illustrations that were 
 praised by Ruskin for rendering the mood of buildings. 
 
 
 iy^"^ 
 
 Louisa autographed a copy of her book for Crofton, 
 her nephew and godson. She spelled his surname 
 McLaughlin. All other members of the family use that 
 spelling. But, with characteristic independence, Louisa 
 wrote her own name MacLaughlin.
 
 OUK ADVENTUEES 
 
 DCalSG 
 
 THE WAR OP 1870. 
 
 lit 
 
 TWO E^'GLlSmVOMKN : 
 
 EilMA MARIA PEAESON, 
 LOUISA ELISABETH MAOLAUOHLIN. 
 
 ' PiaUs iacye bean Korm with Wruvl, 
 And lrj6 t>t oonqnca* huth wm re»pln? time : 
 Tll« laM Is dwaclate till Ciwlty suWim* 
 
 nr x'vvo vox-xr^kTEs — VOL- i. 
 
 LON-HON ; 
 KICIIARD BENTLET AND SON 
 
 irSW BUaLMOT'JN SIEEBX. 
 
 r^7L 
 
 J,'* riTAfs nViTt^V.
 
 TO THE 
 
 HONORABLE GEORGIANA RUSHOUT; 
 
 FOR WHOSE GENEROUS AID AND SYMPATHY 
 
 IN OUR EFFORTS 
 
 TO RELIEVE THE SICK AND WOUNDED IN THE LATE WAR, 
 
 WE OWE A DEBT OF GRATITUDE, 
 
 This Book Is Dedicated 
 
 BY HER SINCERE AND AFFECTIONATE 
 
 EMMA MARIA PEARSON 
 
 AND 
 
 LOUISA ELISABETH MACLAUGHLIN.t 
 
 JUNE 1871 
 
 * Georgiana was born between 1803 and 1811 as the second daughter of George Rushout-Bowles 
 and Lady Caroline Stewart, a daughter of the Seventh Earl of Galloway, and sister of Lady 
 Charlotte Stewart, who was Louisa McLaughlin's maternal grandmother. Georgiana's uncle was 
 John Rushout, Second Baron Northwick (1770-1859), whose family had owned the 
 Gloucestershire estate of Northwick Park since 1683. Their fortune was due to the success of 
 Baron Rushout's great-grandfather, a Flemish merchant who traded in London. 
 
 t Both authors were trained nurses. They received the Cross of Honour of the French Red Cross, 
 "together with a request that in any future war they will serve again with the French ambulances." 
 Louisa MacLaughlin (1836-1921) was also awarded the War Medal of Germany and the Sanitats 
 Kreuz Militar of Hesse-Darmstadt. In 1 876 she was honoured with the Gold Cross of the Order of 
 the Takova of Servia. Louisa was die favourite pupil of Dorothy Pattison (1832-78) who took the 
 name Sister Dora when she joined an Anglican sisterhood which sent her to nurse (an ambition her 
 insane father had thwarted) in Walsall. There epidemics and work accidents were rife, but she brought 
 about amazing social improvements and set new standards for the nursing profession. 
 On their return from France, Louisa and Emma joined the National Health Society established by 
 Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell (the first modem woman doctor in Europe), undertaking relief work for 
 the London poor and giving lectures on health education. The disputes with the British Red Cross 
 related in this book having been settled, they went on another Red Cross mission, to Serbia during 
 the Serbo-Turkish War of 1876. Afterwards they opened a London nursing home which catered 
 to, among others, patients of Baron Joseph Lister, the founder of modem antiseptic surgery. 
 Emma Pearson (1828-93) was the daughter of Captain Charles Pearson, RN, of Great Yarmouth. 
 She and Louisa also wrote: 
 
 Under the Red Cross. A series of papers reprinted from the St. James's Magazine. London, 
 1872. [A history of wartime nursing, ending with a scathing analysis of official efforts in 
 the War of 1870. Footnote information gleaned from these papers bears the attribution 
 StJM. Emma's work often appeared in the 5/. James 's Magazine and in Temple Bar. both 
 literary periodicals with eminent contributors such as Anthony Trollope.] 
 Service in Servia under the Red Cross. London, 1 877. 
 In addition, Emma was the authoress of: 
 
 From Rome to Mentana. pp. vi. 308. London. 1868. [A travel book] 
 
 One Love in a Life. 3 vol. London, 1874. [This novel demonstrates that women's rights are not 
 needed for good women to overcome their problems, while the rest cannot organize 
 themselves owing to petty rivalries.] 
 His Little Cousin A tale. 3 vol. London, 1875.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Our aim in the volumes we present to the kindly consideration of our 
 English friends, has been not only to give a simple and truthful sketch of 
 personal experiences, during the campaigns of 1870-71, but to shovv^ the 
 evils war inflicts on those who take no active part in it, its degrading 
 influence on national character, and the cruel sufferings of an invaded 
 country. 
 
 In speaking of our great National Society for tlie Relief of the Sick and 
 Wounded in War, we have given a straightforward statement of our 
 transactions with them. No attempt has been made to enter into any 
 discussion as to the causes of what we consider to have been much of 
 failure in carrying out the great work before them. 
 
 Their intentions were, undoubtedly, the noblest and best; and if, 
 unfortimately, their services should again be required, they will have learnt 
 wisdom and economy by the past. 
 
 That our sympathies were and are French we do not deny. We lived 
 amongst them, and were daily witnesses of their miseries. But we have 
 tried to do justice to all, and to record our gratitude to the officers of the 
 German army, whose kindness, with a few exceptions, was unvarying. 
 
 EMMA MARIA PEARSON, 
 
 LOUISA ELISABETH MACLAUGHLIN. 
 
 BoRASTON Rectory,* Tenbury: June 1871. 
 
 LONDON: PRINTED BY 
 
 SPOmSWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 AND PARLIAMENT STREET 
 
 * This was the home of Louisa's parents, the Very Rev. Hubert McLaughlin, MA. (1805-82), Rural 
 Dean and a Prebendary in Hereford Cathedral, and the Hon. Frederica Crofton (1816-81), a sister of 
 Edward, Second Baron Crofton, Lord-in-Waiting to Queen Victoria. Their Georgian house with three- 
 acre garden now provides Bed and Breakfast
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ORIGINAL 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 The Start For The War 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 II 
 
 An Express Train 
 
 8 
 
 17 
 
 III 
 
 The Two Chateaux 
 
 15 
 
 33 
 
 IV 
 
 The Midnight Drive 
 
 24 
 
 55 
 
 V 
 
 The Knights of St John 
 
 32 
 
 75 
 
 VI 
 
 The Rescue 
 
 40 
 
 97 
 
 VII 
 
 The Burning of the Red-Cross Banner 
 
 48 
 
 119 
 
 VIII 
 
 The Chase after the King 
 
 54 
 
 139 
 
 IX 
 
 England to the Rescue 
 
 64 
 
 162 
 
 X 
 
 Alone on the Hills 
 
 76 
 
 194 
 
 XI 
 
 The Last Hours of the Empire 
 
 85 
 
 216 
 
 XII 
 
 The Saddest Scene of All 
 
 93 
 
 236 
 
 XIII 
 
 A Miserable Village 
 
 104 
 
 265 
 
 xrv 
 
 To England and Back 
 
 114 
 
 291 
 
 XV 
 
 Louise's Letter 
 
 121 
 
 308 
 
 XVI 
 
 Caserne Asfelde 
 
 129 
 
 328 
 
 XVII 
 
 Under Whose Orders? 
 
 THE SECOND VOLUME 
 
 137 
 
 348 
 
 I 
 
 La Belle Normandie 
 
 144 
 
 1 
 
 II 
 
 The King's Head-Quarters 
 
 153 
 
 24 
 
 III 
 
 The Battle-Field at Home 
 
 162 
 
 45 
 
 IV 
 
 The Army of The Loire 
 
 173 
 
 72 
 
 V 
 
 The Only Victory 
 
 181 
 
 90 
 
 VI 
 
 The Week of Battle 
 
 189 
 
 112 
 
 VII 
 
 Le Dimanche Noir 
 
 199 
 
 138 
 
 VIII 
 
 Under the Shadow of the Union-Jack 
 
 207 
 
 160 
 
 IX 
 
 A Lost Battle-Field 
 
 218 
 
 189 
 
 X 
 
 The Army of the Vosges 
 
 227 
 
 213 
 
 XI 
 
 Convent Life at Orleans 
 
 239 
 
 244 
 
 XII 
 
 A Sad New Year 
 
 251 
 
 273 
 
 XIII 
 
 Peace 
 
 260 
 
 297 
 
 XIV 
 
 A German Funeral Pyre 
 
 272 
 
 328 
 
 XV 
 
 A Gallant Little Town 
 
 279 
 
 347 
 
 XVI 
 
 The Loiret 
 
 291 
 
 380
 
 SRLF 
 YRL 
 
 OUR ADVENTURES 
 
 DURING THE 
 
 WAR OF 1870. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 ♦<>♦ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR.* 
 
 Life in an invaded country, overrun by the troops of a foreign power, 
 is in every respect so different from life in our peaceful English land, that 
 the simple record of personal adventvires and impressions during a 
 residence in various parts of France in the autumn of 1870, and the winter 
 and early spring of 1871, may help to realise the horrors and the 
 demoralisation of War to the minds of those who happily never knew by 
 
 * The Franco-Prussian War was provoked by the Prussian chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, as part 
 of his plan to weld the 25 German states into a single nation. The pretext for war came when 
 Spain's throne was offered to a Prussian prince, Leopold of Hohenzollem. The offer was rejected 
 after strong protests by the French, who were concerned by Prussia's growing strength. The 
 French Ambassador asked King William I of Prussia for a guarantee that the offer would not be 
 renewed. The request was refused. Informed of this in a telegram sent from their meeting place, 
 Ems, Bismarck published the telegram — having first edited it to imply that the King had been 
 contemptuous in his reftisal. 
 
 This inflamed French feeling, which Emperor Napoleon EH, hoping to remedy his unpopularity, 
 used as an excuse to declare war on 19 July 1870. Believing France to be the aggressor, the South 
 German states joined in with the North German Confederation — as Bismarck had hoped. 
 The German Army was commanded by a military genius, General (and later Count) Helmuth von 
 Moltke, who had been making preparations for years, but the irresolute Napoleon III led the 
 French. Whereas all Prussian men without exception were liable for military duty, the French 
 selected by ballot from men who came of military age each year those who would serve five years 
 with the colours. Far the larger part of the contingent remained as a reserve called the Garde 
 Mobile, who trained at most 14 days of the year, going home each night. Half of the million men 
 of the French forces were in the Garde Mobile, but it was unorganised, unequipped and untrained 
 when the Germans, 1,183,000 strong, crossed the border into Alsace on 4 August, 1870. They 
 immediately scored victories, beating the French Marshal MacMahon's advance guard at 
 Wissembourg, and outnumbering MacMahon's own corps at Reischoffen. This pushed him to 
 Chalons, forcing a wedge between his forces and those of Bazaine, centred on Metz. 
 The standard history is Michael Howard's The Franco-Prussian War. the German invasion of 
 France, 1870-1871. Lxjndon: Routledge 1988, & New York: Dorset Press, 1990, originaUy 
 published 1961, 512p. maps, plans, pbk. The footnotes draw on that book and on David 
 Eggenberger's An Encyclopedia of Battles. New York: Dover Publications, 1985, pp viii, 533, maps.
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 experience what is the sad condition of provinces in military occupation of 
 an enemy, the domestic state of their towns and villages, and the 
 sufferings of all classes from details of misery which nattirally are 
 overlooked by the military and special war correspondents of the English 
 journals. They record faithfully what they see, but much escapes their 
 notice as they follow the advance or retreat of the contending armies. 
 Many of these miseries are the necessary consequences of war, but are 
 often aggravated by the violence of the victorious soldiery, and the utter 
 want of comprehension which must exist when an excited trooper 
 endeavours to explain in an unknown tongue to a frightened peasant 
 what is required of him. Whilst wishing to do every justice to both 
 belligerent powers, it must be admitted that the impatience of a German 
 soldier, when his harsh gutturals fail to produce any effect on the 
 understanding of those around him, is something perfectly horrible, and 
 his howls and yells enough to drive an unoffending citizen into a state 
 of distraction. During our sojourn in this unhappy land of France we 
 met with many instances of this, and many lives were lost simply from 
 this unfortunate want of knowledge of a few words of each other's 
 language. 
 
 I must premise before fairly starting the story of our lives during this great 
 war, that from the first Louise and myself formed a deep attachment to each 
 other, our sympathies on almost every point were the same, and we became 
 inseparable companions. If in writing this sketch of our adventures 1 am 
 obliged to use the singular and egotistical pronoim T in many places, it is only 
 to avoid the difficulty of describing scenes in wliich eadi took a separate part. 
 There was no danger, no hardship, no adventure, she did iiot equally share; 
 and as we sit side by side, recallirig the events we witnessed, and looking over 
 the diary she kept, whilst we feel it is far better one should act as scribe, we beg 
 it distinctly to be understood our little work is a joint composition. 
 
 No idle curiosity brought us to the seat of war: we formed part of what 
 was called, in France, 'the English Column,' sent from 'the British National 
 Society for the Relief of the Sick arid Wounded in War,'* and consisting, 
 when it started, of four ladies, a paid nurse, a surgeon, and a secretary, and 
 with orders to repair directly to the King's headquarters for service with the 
 Prussian army. 
 
 The Society obtained funds to provide humanitarian aid to both sides in the war largely 
 through an appeal to readers of The Times in July 1870. The Prince of Wales and Florence 
 Nightingale inunediately wrote letters of support. The appeal raised £40,000 within weeks. On 
 August 4, after a public meeting was held in London, the Society was formed. In 1905 the British 
 National Society was reconstituted as the British Red Cross Society and granted its first Royal 
 Charter by Queen Alexandra who became its President.
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 We left London for Dover on the rught of August 16, with all the fresh 
 enthusiasm of untried soldiers, determined not to spend on ourselves a 
 shilling more than we could help of the Society's money; and so sternly 
 resolved to go tlirough any amount of hardship, that we should have been 
 actually annoyed if any amount of decent comfort had been predicted as our 
 lot. On our arrival we went on board the Ostend boat, beginning our course 
 of self-denial by taking second-class tickets; however, the second-class cabin 
 was an utter impossibility: we got ready to bivouac on deck, and commence 
 campaigniiig experiences by passing a night in the open air. We did not, 1 
 am afraid, reflect sufficiently, as I was afterwards told, on the dignity of the 
 great Society whose pioneers in active personal work we were, or how 
 incumbent it was upon us to keep it up under all circvmistances. In harbovir 
 the sea was calm, and the night seemed fine. We were uiideceived. I believe 
 it rained, I kiiow it blew; but except a consciousness of suffering, we were 
 beyond all speculations on any subject. We had wrapped ourselves up in 
 our railway rugs,* and spread our water-proof sheets over us; but it was all 
 in vain: the spray dashed over us, the cold wind chilled us; and tlie only 
 consolation we had was, that happen what might, we never could be more 
 wretched — we had reached the Ultima Thulet of misery. 
 
 But morning and Ostend came at last, and we crawled to the custom- 
 house, where our baggage was to be examined. The Red Cross marked 
 upon it saved us all trouble on that score, but the boxes sent out with us by 
 the committee were a great trial. They showed a wonderful facility for 
 coming to pieces on the slightest provocation, and depositing their contents 
 by the way; and we were very glad to register them through to Aix-la- 
 Chapelle,t which was our first destination. But from that day to this we 
 never saw them again. They did arrive at last at Aix, but the expense of 
 forwarding them was more than the worth of them, and they were 
 probably opened, and their contents used for the Hospitals there. They 
 contained bandages, linen rags, and some second-hand shirts and socks; 
 also two pairs of white kid gloves — for what purpose sent is a mystery. 
 All through the war, much was sent out that was utterly useless, much that 
 was not worth carriage. 1 mention this to show how much money and 
 labour was wasted in this gigantic effort to alleviate measureless human 
 suffering, from want of practical experience, and a due consideration of the 
 fitness of things. Second-hand under clothiiig, unless almost new, will not 
 bear one washing. Bandages especially do not answer the expense of 
 
 * Wool blankets with a fringed edge, often held in a roll by leather straps. 
 
 t The most extreme point attainable. Thule was the most northern point known to the ancient Romans. 
 
 t Now generally called Aachen, in northwestern Germany, bordering on Belgium and the Netherlands.
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 sending out; they weigh very heavily; calico can be always purchased near 
 tlie scene ot action, and they cost far less made on the spot. 
 
 We lost no time in proceeding to Brussels, where we arrived at noon; 
 and having a letter to deliver to the President of the International Society 
 there, I went at once, accompanied by one of the ladies, to the committee 
 rooms. It was a singular proceeding. A number of letters were read 
 which had no particular bearing on any subject, and the affair was getting 
 dull, when a ladv begged permission to address the meeting. The gravity 
 with which the Chairman and Committee listened to the tale of her 
 grievances was really ludicrous. It seemed some other zealous lady had 
 refused to allow her collection of linen and charpie* to be added to the 
 general collection, though a special portion of space had been allotted to 
 the contributions of the faubourgs and villages around. This ambitious 
 village declined to disappear in the general mass of villages, had taken 
 back its bales, had set up for itself under the presidentship of the 
 ambitious lady, and had even presumed to seek for aid in the city. Such 
 insubordination and poaching upon other people's manors could not be 
 allowed: the lady of the village was to be duly admonished that the lady 
 of the city would not stand it, and the village was temporarily 
 excommunicated. How the affair ended, of course I have no means of 
 knowing, but 1 hope by a reconciliation between city and suburb. 
 
 Next morning we duly repaired to the station, where we met the 
 secretary, who had been detained by the charge of bringing out five 
 hundred pounds't worth of very valuable stores for our use: instead of 
 having to wait for his arrival at Aix-la-Chapelle, we were enabled thus to 
 proceed direct to Luxembourg en route for Saarbruck and the front. 
 
 We arrived early in the evening. It was a suiiny August day, and the 
 little town of Luxembourg looked actually sleepy in the light of the setting 
 sun. War might have been a thousaiid miles away for any signs we could see 
 
 * Surgical dressings made of narrow strips torn from old linen sheets picked apart to leave 
 relatively long frayed edges. Old linen was also scraped or unravelled to make lint. One of the 
 Budapest National Gallery's most important holdings. The Lint Makers, painted in 1871 by 
 Mihaly Munkacsy, shows a large group of workers around a long table shredding Unen and 
 looking with intense emotions at a soldier who sits at the head of the table, his badly wounded leg 
 swathed in their product. Charpie was rendered obsolete by Herman S. Gauze's invention of the 
 sterile surgical dressing in Zurich shortly before the First World War. The Oxford English 
 Dictionary's first citation of the spelling 'charpie' is dated 1872, a year after this book. 
 
 t Today's value of £500 is approximately £32.500 ($47,000). In 1870 the pound sterfing was 
 worth about 65 times its present value, according to House of Commons Library Research Paper 
 99/20. The symbol for the English pound is based on the first letter of the ancient Roman pound 
 libra; now written £ but in this book / served instead.
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 of it there, but there were rumours that sounds of heavy firing had come on 
 the still summer air to the quiet neutral town, and it was true: only thirty 
 miles away, across the frontier, was Metz, and that day was one of the 
 terrible three days' struggle called by the Germans the battle of Gravelotte,* 
 by the French the battle of St. Privat. It was the great struggle after which 
 Bazaine retreated within his lines, aiid the ring of the besiegers closed round 
 l"dm and his army, aiid left famine to do its work iii the doomed city. The 
 battle covered a great space of ground, on which stood many small villages, 
 and it is called by the various names of these by the soldiers of different corps. 
 
 Next day we left for Saarbruck, and at the station met a gentlemanly 
 Englishman, evidently a soldier, who entered into conversation with some 
 of our party, and whom we afterwards called 'the General' when he took 
 command of us a few days later. All went well till we reached a way-side 
 station, called Wasserbillig: here the line was cut, and we were transferred 
 to an omnibus, and our baggage to country waggons. As we drove slowly 
 along we saw on our left an ancient Roman tomb in three storeys. t There 
 was sculpture in bas-relief still left upon it that showed its occupant had 
 been some great warrior, but its situation was its chief beauty in our eyes. 
 Its history was then and is still unknown to us — what celebrated chieftain 
 slept there, or what event it was built to record; but there it stood, at the 
 head of a gorge that, opening between, deep-wooded banks, gave a view 
 of the fertile plain below, with the blue Moselle winding through it. Those 
 old Romans knew how to build, and where to place their buildings. They 
 were at once artists and architects. 
 
 At last we reached Treves. The station was crowded with soldiers;^ 
 and, as we lingered on the broad steps leading up to it, and whilst the 
 
 * After two weeks of defeats and retreats. Napoleon m handed over command of his 1 13,000-man 
 army to Marshal Achille Bazaine (1811-88). He found his route to the west (towards Verdun) 
 blocked by the First and Second Prussian armies of General von Moltke. Bazaine then made a 
 stand west of Metz at Gravelotte, his right wing holding Saint-Privat, to the north. On 18 August 
 1870 the combined Prussian armies of almost 190.(XX) men under the titular command of King 
 Wilhelm I, attacked the French positions. At Gravelotte the French held their ground and threw 
 back the First Army in wild disorder. At Saint-Privat, too, the defenders inflicted cruel casualties 
 on the Prussian Second Army, but here Saxon reinforcements and augmented artillery finally 
 forced the French to yield the village. The Prussians had lost about 20.000 men, the French lost 
 13,000 in killed and wounded with another 5,000 captured. A more energetic French marshal might 
 have counterattacked to win a decisive battle and perhaps change the course of the war. But 
 Bazaine, at nightfall, withdrew all his troops into the fortress at Metz, which was promptly besieged 
 t Perhaps the one at Polsen, on Germany's border with Luxembourg. The Romans lost three 
 legions battling Germans around there at the time of Christ. 
 
 t The Germans made great use of the railways for rushing troops into battle. The Prussians 
 pioneered the nulitary use of trains in 1846. The French railway administration was incompetent
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 secretary was enquiring for the waggons, which had not yet come up with 
 us, the General in opening his valise to take out something, showed his 
 papers and his passport, which proved he was the real Simon Pure.* Now 
 when he had given his name at Luxembourg, the secretary had chosen to 
 doubt the fact: we had believed in it, and we enjoyed a little triumph in 
 informing him that we were right, and he was wrong. The proof was too 
 clear, and the secretary admitted his error, and permitted us to present the 
 General with a little wl-dte sliield, on which was a red velvet cross, to place 
 in 1-iis hat, like those we had made for the secretary and our svurgeon, Mr. 
 Parker.t and which the General had admired and wished for. 
 
 We had to wait at Treves for the baggage, and we went into the station 
 to try and find a refreshment room; but in war time, as we found, 
 refreshment rooms and waiting rooms are all invaded and taken possession 
 of by tlie soldiery, and we were obliged to content ourselves with some 
 bread and beer in a large hall, round the centre table of which sat a number 
 of recruits for the Prussian army, drinking, smoking, and singing. Our 
 entrance was the signal for a burst of delight. 'The English! the English! 
 come to nurse our wounded!' was the cry from all; and directly after, one 
 man gravely advanced from the rest, and begged us to drink their health, 
 which of course we did, and they then sang for us the chorus our entrance 
 had interrupted, and we heard for the first time 'Die Wacht am Rhein.'l It 
 seems they were all bakers, part of the reserve called out for service, and 
 their uniforms were rough and ill-fitting, very unlike the smart, well-drilled 
 Prussian soldiers we afterwards encountered. They were stupid, heavy 
 looking fellows, and, in spite of all their singing, certainly much depressed. 
 No wonder. Would our gallant volunteers feel more cheerful if ordered 
 from the office, the workshop, and the farm, to hard and dangerous 
 service? From first to last the greater part of the German soldiery we 
 encountered detested the war, and only longed for peace and home. 
 Bavarians, Hessians, and Prussians proper were divided amongst 
 themselves, yet they fought well. The German army is a splendid machine. 
 
 * The real Simon Pure is a character in the play A Bold Stroke for a Wife, by Susannah Centlivre 
 (1669-1723). Simon-pure generally means genuinely pure, but can also connote hypocritical 
 virtuousness. 
 
 t British surgeons rejoice in the title 'Mister' because their profession developed from Henry 
 Vni's union of surgeons and barbers to form the Company of Barber Surgeons in 1540. British 
 physicians use the title 'Doctor' although they generally have the twin degrees of Bachelor of 
 Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery, rarely a doctorate. 
 
 % The Watch on the Rhine became widely popular in 1840 when many German states felt that the 
 Rhine was imperilled by France. Words by Max Schneckenburger (1819-49). Music by Karl 
 Wilhehn (1815-73).
 
 THE START FOR THE WAR. 
 
 but no English soldier would submit to the treatment the German soldiers 
 endure from the sergeants and corporals of their regiments. Tliey are 
 governed by simple brute force, and that, combined with Schnapps* and a 
 good dinner, will always manage the worst of them. Yet it must be 
 confessed that drunkenness is the exception, not the rule. They have 
 enormous appetites, and a great capacity for strong liquors, but they 
 seemed to take both meat aiid drink in huge quantities with impunity. 
 
 At the appointed hour we found ourselves at the train, and were 
 implored to get in, as it was then starting. We remonstrated that the 
 gentlemen had not arrived, and the guard remarked that the train would 
 wait half an hour or so. In time of war it was of no consequence. Having 
 made this comfortable arrangement, we inspected the preparations for 
 receiving the wounded. A staff of Red Cross stretcher bearers was in 
 attendance to carry them from the train to the carriages, waiting to take 
 them to hospital. After experience convinced us it would be far better to 
 carry the seriously wounded on the stretchers to the hospital, instead of 
 transferring them to a carriage, but it is only experience that teaches these 
 details. Trays with glasses of raspberry vinegar and water, bread, biscuits, 
 and fruit, were there ready for the refreshment of the sufferers, and kind 
 and active helpers waiting to distribute it all. 
 
 The train which brought them came in at last: there were very few, and 
 they were not badly wounded. There had not been time to bring the mass 
 of wounded from the scene of action. We watched the emptying of the 
 carriages. Our gentlemen had arrived, still our train did not move on, and, 
 at last we discovered we were waiting for some high official who was to act 
 as convoy of a large sum of money for the army. Apparently it was difficult 
 to get, for two hours elapsed before three or four country carts arrived, and 
 were brought up close to the platform. They were loaded with canvas bags, 
 containing silver coin, which were passed or ratlier thrown from hand to 
 hand by a line of soldiers to the waggon reserved for them. It seemed a 
 cumbrous way of sending money, but was probably the easiest distribution 
 in small sums. During this time 'Die Wacht am Rhein' had been again 
 chanted by the warlike bakers, the chorus being led by our German 
 secretary, who had bought 'a book of the words' in town. Doubts as to the 
 neutrality of this proceeding might be suggested, but as he never professed 
 anything but the most intense Germanism, it was not surprising. At last the 
 train moved on. Treves vanished in the distance. We were fairly started 
 for the Seat of War. 
 
 Schnapps is the generic term for all white (clear) brandies distilled from fennented friiits.
 
 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 
 
 It was 8 o'clock before we reached Saarlouis, a station on the 
 Saarbruck line. The railroad runs through the lovely valley of the Saar, 
 and in the light of an August evening all looked so still and quiet, that 
 war might have been a thousand miles away. The train had come thus 
 far in a jerky and deliberate manner, apparently for no particular reason 
 except the amusement of the guards and stokers. In time of war, a 
 general disorganisation of the details of every-day life takes place, which 
 induces irregularity even where there is no occasion for it; and though it 
 is most earnestly to be hoped that England will never experience this 
 scourge on her own shores, yet it is a matter of speculation if solid, 
 steady-going English men and women would ever become as 'slip-shod' 
 as the French under the same circumstances. The horrors of war are 
 great: it is one long nightmare of suffering and terror to the miserable 
 inhabitants of the invaded country — one long holiday of recklessness to 
 the conquerors; but its worst feature is, after all, the universal 
 demoralisation to all concerned in it. Peace may be re-established, the 
 invaders may return home in triumph, the suffering people may shake 
 off their sullen despair and set themselves to recover their fallen 
 fortunes; but through long years the evil effects of that demoralisation 
 will be felt on the character of both nations. 
 
 We found we should remain some little time at Saarlouis, and whilst 
 walking on the platform several women came up and asked if we were 
 English, and if we had come to nurse the wounded. They seemed 
 surprised to find us on Prussian ground, as they thought all the English 
 were for the French. So delighted were they with our assurances that we 
 were strictly neutral, that they presented us with bunches of delicate pink 
 oleanders, which we placed in ovir hats to please them. 
 
 It was very late before the train arrived at the long suburb of 
 Saarbruck, St. Johann. We had stopped five or six times for an hour, and 
 were fairly worn out. As it was quite dark, we could see nothing but the 
 lights in the various houses: there was a feverish look about the place, 
 from the fact that every house was lighted at midnight. At last 
 Saarbruck station was reached; but what a scene met us there! The
 
 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 9 
 
 broad platform, which extended to a line on the other side of it, was 
 covered with stalls of provisions lighted by pine torches: the keepers of 
 them, wearied with a long day's work, were sleeping here and there by the 
 side; the waiting room was turned into a rough kitchen, aiid the buildings 
 were much damaged by shells, fired on the celebrated day when the boy, 
 then heir to the Empire of France, received his 'baptism of fire.'* No one at 
 tliat time foresaw by what a baptism of tears it would be followed. 
 
 Trains of wounded had been passing all day, another was momentarily 
 expected, and we heard that our convoy would go no farther that iiight, but 
 might start at any hour in the morning. The best arrangement seemed to be 
 that we should sleep in the carriages, and this was made for us. We then 
 tried to find some supper: here a Mr. Herbert, of the Cologne Ambulance, 
 was of great use to us; he foimd a stall where we could get some coffee, 
 bread, and oranges, and this was not the last occasion on which his 
 kindness was of essential service. He showed us where a shell had struck 
 the rooms, but the ruin was nothing compared to the accounts we had read 
 in the newspapers in England, and often since we have read of scenes in 
 which we ourselves took a part, with a sort of puzzled wonder where we 
 could have been not to have seen all this, till we finally decided either that 
 we had no eyes and ears, or newspaper correspondents had sometimes 
 more than the proper allowance, to say nothing of official telegrams and 
 reports, even those of 'the pious King William to his dear Augusta.'t 
 
 Having finished our exploration, we started for our 'Hotel du Chemin 
 de Fer,'1: which we had seen comfortably shunted on to a siding a little 
 way a-head of the station. We blundered over the rails and tried to find a 
 place easy to walk on; and whilst, tired and out of breath with our 
 exertions, we plunged resolutely on, keeping our eyes fixed on the train 
 we had left, we suddenly saw it, to our great dismay, going off at what 
 appeared to be full speed down the line. Now all our 'little baggages' 
 were there, and we commenced the pursuit of our flying hotel in good 
 earnest. Hunting a moveable lodging over the uneven ground of a 
 junction station at one in tlie morning, with no other prospect of a bed but 
 overtaking it, is not an exhilarating proceeding, and we were very glad to 
 see the hotel stop, and to climb into it, and compose ourselves for the 
 
 * On 2 August Prince Louis Napoleon was first exposed, by direction of his father. Napoleon EI, to 
 the fire of the enemy at Saarbriick: the event was called a "baptism of fire." The French captured 
 Saarbriick but were almost inunediately forced back by General Karl von Steinmetz's army. 
 
 t Wilhelm I's devout protestantism had the benefit of sustaining his beliefs that as king he had the 
 divine right to rule, and that he was answerable only to God. 
 
 t "Railway hotel."
 
 10 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 
 
 night, having performed our toilette by putting on our wrappers* and 
 putting off our boots. Sleeping in a railway carriage as it flies along, with 
 a short halt here and there, and the conviction tliat one is approaching tlie 
 desired destinahon. is even then not a comfortable way of passing the 
 night; but deliberately doing it with the carriage standing still, is more 
 uncomfortable, and none of us felt much refreshed in the morning. 
 
 We were fresh from England, and all its profusion of soap and water, 
 and had not got accustomed to sometimes a pint of water amongst us, and 
 sometimes none at all. Dirt had not become our normal condition, and 
 before we looked out for breakfast we tried to find some dressing room, 
 however rude. Whilst wandering hopelessly about the junction station 
 with its network of lines, we looked up, and on the top of a high green 
 bank, which bounded it, we espied our gentlemen, evidently with water 
 and a towel. We instantly climbed up, cleared the paling, and demanded 
 a share in tlieir luxuries, which included a pump, with a wooden trough; 
 aiid after this, feeling greatly the better, we descended again and got some 
 coffee and oranges, after which Louise and myself strolled into the towni. 
 We amused ourselves by going shopping, woman's sure comfort, and 
 heard amusing tales of the bombardment from the people. 
 
 Nothing very terrible had happened: the station being on the heights 
 opposite the French batteries had suffered most. The young Frenchwoman 
 who told us this had passed three days in the cellar, for fear of the bomb- 
 shells. She was one of those who had volunteered, with the rest of her 
 townswomen, to nurse the wounded. They were divided into bands, and 
 each took ten days' duty in turns. She had just returned to her shop, but 
 they had not had many gravely wounded in the town. At tliat time it was 
 too near the frontier, and the men were sent farther into Germany. When 
 we returned to the station we found what may be vaguely called 'a great 
 many trains' going to start. We knew ours by its having a truck attached 
 to it, on which was the omnibus of the Cologne ambulance — a light 
 waggonette for two horses, which would hold six inside, with a cover of 
 tarpaulin. It was an admirable vehicle for the purpose, for at night it was 
 a comfortable bed-room for two or three. We discovered it at last, but 
 quite in a different direction; and after reaching it with much difficulty, 
 and establishing ourselves for the journey, we were told we must go in 
 another train which had not yet been formed. 
 
 We waited about, were sent from one train to another, and at last, 
 utterly worn out, found the one which was finally decided upon by the 
 
 * Dressing gowns. 
 
 I
 
 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 11 
 
 authorities, and then to our sorrow heard that our kind friends of the 
 Cologne ambulance had had their truck and baggage wagon taken off the 
 train to make way for a carriage of soldiers, and must wait, how long no 
 one knew — not very long after all, as it turned out, for they came on an 
 hour or two later, and we all met at St. Avoid, a lonely wayside station, 
 fairly in France. Close by was the battle-field of Forbach,* which extended 
 thus far, and traces of the combat were visible as we came along, also of 
 the march of an army, which we learned to track by an unfailing sign — 
 the number of empty bottles. 
 
 We passed the station without stopping, and about a quarter of a mile 
 beyond came to a stand-still, and there we remained till eight in the 
 evening, after nine hours' delay. It must not be imagined tiiis was a 
 passenger train — it was entirely for military purposes, and we tiavelled 
 in it as part of an Ambulance, and tiierefore we were independent of time- 
 tables; but even had it not been so, the line was so blocked that it was 
 impossible to stir. Eight trains were on the road before us, in a space of 
 sixteen miles, between St. Avoid and Remilly, where the line ended at a 
 distance of only sixteen miles from Metz itself. Remilly was the station to 
 which all the wounded of the three days' battle of Vionville and 
 Gravelotte were brought, and during that day and the next, both of which 
 we spent in our carriage on the line, two thousand waggons of wounded 
 passed us, each containing from six to ten men. This may give a truer idea 
 of the German losses on those days, than the official telegrams. There 
 were very few French amongst them. 
 
 This 19th of August was a very long day. The train might have started 
 at any moment, and we were afraid to go far. We saw on a high road, 
 which traversed the plain at the distance of a mile, a coliunn of troops; but 
 we could not see the gleam of bayonet or sword, only a bright line of colour 
 above and below, and a few dark spots on either side the column. At last 
 we recognised them — French prisoners — in their red kepist and trousers; 
 the tirst but not the last time we saw so sad a sight. It was too far for us to 
 ventxire, and we contented ourselves with strolling in the tields, and 
 picking up such relics as we could find, principally torn papers. 
 
 In the midst of this occupation we heard a shrill whistle, and off went 
 our tiain. We immediately began to run over the heavy grass land, as if 
 
 * At Spicheren, General Steinmetz with 27,000 troops routed a French army of 24,000 under 
 General Charles-Auguste Frossard on 6 August. The Prussians lost nearly 5,000 killed and 
 wounded, the French about 4,000, in the confused battle, sometimes called Forbach, a village to 
 the west On the same day another French force suffered defeat at Worth, 40 miles to the southeast. 
 
 t Cylindrical caps with horizontal visors.
 
 12 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 
 
 there was a possibility of catching it, and the proceeding afforded much 
 amusement to tlie soldiers in the carriages. 
 
 Just as we were breathless and despairing we saw a picturesque 
 dragoon officer, in a silver helmet and long white cloak, who was 
 standing on the line, wave his hand to us to stop, and we slackened our 
 pace. When we came up to him he told us the train was only going on a 
 few himdred yards, and we had no chance of reaching Remilly that night. 
 He was one of the finest and handsomest Germans 1 ever saw, with an 
 Italian complexion and jet black hair, a bright smile and a kindly manner. 
 We were told he was a Stolberg, one of the noble family of that name.* 
 When the White Cuirassierst fell so thick and fast at Floing, near Sedan, 
 we may hope he escaped from the massacre; for if he was as good as he 
 was handsome,^ as the old proverb insinuates, he must have been the 
 enfant gate§ of his home. 
 
 Another and another long hour passed, and finding there was no 
 possibility of getting on, we went back to the little station. It was ruined 
 and roofless: shot and shell had fallen round it all the day of the battle; but 
 in one small engine-house a few French prisoners were lying on the 
 ground, too tired and dispirited even to rise from their straw beds. One 
 was from Clermont Ferrand, and spoke sadly of his native village, and the 
 long imprisonment he feared lay before him. Now we wished we had 
 bread, wine, or tobacco to give them; but such things are not included in 
 'little baggages,' or were not then. We learned wisdom afterwards, and 
 carried about cigars; and no greater comfort could be given to a sick or 
 captive soldier of either nation than those of tobacco. 
 
 It was getting late; coffee and oranges had not been a substantial 
 breakfast, and we had not even a morsel of bread — no water, only a little 
 brandy in our flasks. We began to be very hungry, and at last the General 
 produced a pot of Liebig:# a fire was lighted witli sticks and dry grass. 
 
 * Until 1945, Stolberg Princes lived in their picturesque 12* century Wemigerode Castle, 70 km 
 south of Brunswick. 
 
 t Cuirassiers were heavy cavalry, wearing armour consisting of a breastplate and backpiece. 
 
 t "Handsome is that handsome does." — Oliver Goldsmith: Vicar of Wakefield, chap. I. 
 
 § Spoiled child. 
 
 # Liebig's Exttact of Meat was invented by the physicist Baron von Liebig and was developed 
 commercially by a Belgian engineer. George Giebert of Antwerp. When the beef extract became 
 available in 2oz. jars in 1856, Florence Nightingale found it "perfectly invaluable" as a reviving 
 drink for the sick and wounded soldiers she nursed in the Crimean War. The name of the product 
 was changed to Oxo in 1899. The Liebig Company was the world's most prolific issuer of picture 
 cards for collectors, giving one free with every purchase. The cards were usually in sets of six. 
 More than 1,800 different sets of cards in many languages were issued from 1872 to 1973.
 
 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 13 
 
 some ditchwater was procured, and we had a little soup. Tlie soldiery 
 began to light fires by pulling up the stakes and paling which bounded 
 the low wood on our left, and some adventurous spirits started off for a 
 potato field in the distance, and came back with a goodly quantity. We 
 were just watching the boiling of the potatoes, and meditating a friendly 
 exchange of brandy for a few of them, when the whistle sounded again, 
 and the poor fellows had to jump in, leaving their fires, and burning their 
 hands in trying to save their half-boiled potatoes, and we had to go 
 without our dinner. 
 
 At Faulquemont we stopped again, and this time for the night. It was 
 too early to sleep, and, indeed, something in the shape of supper was most 
 desirable; but as it was pitch dark, and we could see nothing except some 
 bivouac fires, which were being lighted, it seemed hopeless. At last a 
 young German, who had travelled in our carriage from Saarbruck, came 
 up to the window, and informed us that he had found a rough auberge* 
 in the village, and there was actually 'bifteck.'t It was too tempting a 
 prospect; and as he kindly offered to escort us, two of us started off. It 
 was just midnight when we retiirned to the train, and the scene was most 
 picturesque. Under a group of trees, in a green meadow by the side of the 
 line, bivouac fires had been lighted, and crowds of soldiers were 
 assembled round them, singing in chorus the national airs of Germany; 
 and never again shall we hear 'Vaterland'^ and 'Die Wacht am Rhein' 
 sung under such effective circumstances, when all around seemed to add 
 reality to the words of the songs; the watch-fires throwing a lurid light on 
 the groups of soldiers — their deep rich voices rising in chorus on the still 
 air of an August night — and the consciousness that we were, in truth, on 
 the battle-fields of this great war. It was early morning before the singing 
 ceased, and we were left to find what rest we could. But still there were 
 no signs of going on, and the delay was most trying, knowing how much 
 our stores and help were needed at the front. We could get no conveyance 
 of any kind to take us across country, so there was nothing for it but to 
 wait patiently. The General, however, beiiig offered a seat in a private 
 carriage, left his baggage in our charge, and went off straight to head- 
 quarters. 
 
 *Inn. 
 
 t Bifteck: steak. 
 
 t Mein Vaterland is a patriotic hymn by August Heinrich Hoffman (Hoffman von Fallersleben, 
 
 1798 - 1874), better known for his Deutschland iiber alles. Hoffman was professor for German 
 
 and literature in Breslau. Ironically, he was dismissed and deported from Prussia in 1843 because 
 
 he espoused liberal ideals.
 
 14 AN EXPRESS TRAIN. 
 
 If tlie detail of our journey to reach tlie scene of action seem somewhat 
 prolf)nged. let it be remembered tliat it is in such simple details that the 
 difference is seen between peace and war; the interruption of all ordinary 
 routine, and the little minor miseries which, in the aggregate, amount to 
 so much; and tliat this sketch is not only of battle-fields and scenes of trial 
 and excitement, but would aim to show what daily life is in an invaded 
 country-
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 
 
 At the station we heard the sad-reason of our delay, which promised 
 to be so long that the General took a light country cart and pushed on to 
 headquarters at Pont-a-Mousson. As each train ran into the station at 
 Remilly, it was emptied of its load of soldiers and re-filled with the 
 wounded. This necessarily occupied a very long time, and kept the 
 entrance to Remilly blocked with trains. One going back to Saarbruck 
 soon ran into the station of Faulquemont, and the porters divided our 
 train, which was standing there, in two, so that we could cross to the 
 down line and give the poor fellows some bread and water. There was a 
 little at the station, not much; we gave to all we could, and the carriages, 
 with their burden of suffering, soon went on. We consulted what was best 
 to be done, and an expedition into the village was decided upon, to find 
 provisions. The Secretary went off into a violent state of excitement, 
 declaring that it was the duty of the mayor of the place to provide 
 refreshments for the wounded, and if he did not do his duty, he should be 
 made to do it; and taking the law into his own hands, presented himself 
 (at least so ran his tale) to the astounded official, and ordered him to send 
 bread and brandy to the station. 
 
 The effect was certainly the arrival of several women with this 
 assistance. We cvit up the bread, and the Secretary procured some buckets of 
 water, into which he poured brandy. It was not a wise thing to do, as it was 
 probable the wounded would prefer pure water, and so it ttimed out. 
 Another train came in, and we commenced giving the provisions as fast as 
 we could. The poor fellows were lying on straw, in luggage vans, and one 
 side being left open for air, it was very easy to reach them; but one and all, 
 after a sip of brandy and water, asked for pure water, and we were obliged to 
 empty the buckets and re-fill them from a pump close by. It was hard work 
 carrying the bread and water, and perpetually re-filling the cups of our 
 flasks. The halt was but a short one, and we had to make all the haste we 
 could, while hands were thrust out, and pathetic appeals made to us to be 
 quick and give them some before they were off. All day long this went on at 
 intervals, and what between n.inning with basket and buckets, and pumping 
 at an impracticable pump, we were fairly worn out, when at five o'clock we
 
 16 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 
 
 Started on our way to Remilly. On that day 2,000 waggons passed, averaging 
 15 woLuided in each. It was a very pretty country we ran through, green and 
 pastoral, and showing no signs of war till we reached Hemy, a village six 
 miles further on; and there, in the meadows, on either side the way, was an 
 enormous camp of provisions, guarded by comparatively few soldiers. The 
 King's head-quarters had been there two days before, and we heard their 
 camp was always tliat space of time in rear of them. 
 
 At last, at eight P.M., we reached Remilly, having been just thirty-four 
 hours coming thirty-nine English miles! The platform was crowded with 
 Ambulance-bearers, waiting for the next convoy of coimtry carts bringing 
 wounded, and they were now coming in; but amidst all the confusion a 
 Prussian aide-de-camp made way up to our Secretary, who presented him as 
 Baron L — , sent from Pont-a-Mousson to meet us. The Baron took the reins 
 into his own hands, infonned the Secretary that from that moment we were 
 imder his charge; he had his orders to take us straight to the King, and at ten 
 next morrung should be ready to escort us, assuring us at the same time of a 
 warm welcome at head-quarters. All seemed now satisfactorily arranged, 
 and finding the carts had arrived, and the miserable sufferers were being laid 
 on heaps of straw on the platform, we piled up our little baggages in a 
 comer, gave them into charge, and went to give what aid we could. 
 
 For the first time we were in acttial contact with the fearful details of 
 the war. Many of the wounds had been but roughly bandaged needing 
 fresh dressings, from the effect of the jolting over rough roads for eight or 
 ten hours in a burning sun. They were all Germans, and several so fearfully 
 hurt, it seemed impossible to carry them on; yet they were gradually got 
 into the trains, the most seriously wounded into first-class carriages, the rest 
 into the baggage-waggons. Darkness came on, and flaming pitch torches 
 were lighted, and threw a red glare on the scene. Moans of pain, and 
 sudden and sharp cries of agony, added to its fearful effect. Crimson- 
 stained rags and bits of torn clothing, dirty straw, blankets, caps, and guns, 
 were strewed about, and the heat was stifling, whilst the smoke of the 
 torches choked wounded and assistants alike. It was a relief when the train 
 was off, aiid whilst waiting for more carts, to go out into the village ai"id try 
 to find a shelter; for our 'Hotel du Chemin de Per' had gone back to 
 Saarbruck, and we were literally 'houseless by night.'* 
 
 But the little town itself presented a sad sight. Close to the station was 
 an open place with trees, and here were many wounded lying on straw, so 
 that we had difficulty in making our way across it. Piteous appeals were 
 
 * The line comes from Thomas Hood's poem. The Bridge of Sighs.
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 17 
 
 made for water and help, and it seemed bad management not to have 
 taken them on to the platform, now nearly cleared of wounded, to wait for 
 the next train. We wandered up a street with a high wall on one side, and 
 seeing an hotel, or rather auberge, I turned into the entrance and civilly 
 asked if rooms were to be had there. A Prussian soldier instantly seized 
 me by the shoulder and commenced pushing me into the street with 
 considerable violence. A sous-officier, who was passing, asked what he 
 was doing, and reprimanded him severely, explaining to him that it was 
 impossible for strangers to know that the house was taken up for soldiers' 
 quarters; and he also told us so was every inn in the town, and that it 
 hopeless to search further. We had had nothing since our rough breakfast 
 but a dry crust of rye bread. We had been too busy at Faulquemont to 
 think of our own wants, and the prospect of no bed and no supper was 
 not cheering. 
 
 We made our way back to the station amidst groups of noisy soldiers, 
 and found our party assembling and preparing for a similar exploring 
 expedition. It was now pitch dark, and our report was far from 
 encouraging; but some one suggested that the Knights of St. John* had 
 always the best house in town, and probably would give us shelter, and 
 we started for the large chateau of which they had taken possession. We 
 looked at the long range of windows, and thought that surely some one 
 small room could be spared us, and full of hope, heard the bell ring, saw 
 the door opened, showing a lighted hall, and were informed that we could 
 not lodge there! We might go over the way, where the Protestant Sisters, 
 working with their Order, had a chateau, and see what they would do for 
 us. We humbly withdrew, and I suggested a bivouac under the rose- 
 bushes in the garden of the inhospitable Hospitallers; at all, events it was 
 cool and calm and quiet, away from the glare of the station and the noise 
 in the crowded streets; but as a last resource we did go over the way and 
 found an equally large chateau, and here were more fortimate. Tlie kindly 
 Sisters had pity upon us and took us all in, gentlemen and all, only 
 regretting they had nothing but mattresses to offer us, and actually gave 
 us tea, bread and butter, and eggs; and taking us through a room where 
 several severely wounded men were lying, one in the agonies of death, 
 showed us into what in we should call the back drawing-room. As we 
 
 * Originally called Hospitallers of the Order of St John of Jerusalem, the Knights of St. John are 
 an Order of Chivalry founded during the first Crusade in 1099 to alleviate all mankind's suffering 
 and to encourage its spiritual growth. In England the dissolution of the monasteries put an end to 
 the Order for nearly 300 years, but it was revived in 1831. In 1870 it undertook to do ambulance 
 work in the Franco-Prussian War.
 
 18 THE TVVO CHATEAUX. 
 
 could be of no use to the poor fellows next door, we at once took 
 possession of our mattresses, which we thoroughly enjoyed, and slept 
 profoundly. Now as we ran into the Remiliy station that evening, not 
 knowing the horrors we should encounter there, we had seen on a high 
 wooded bank on our left a charming white stone chateau, with gardens 
 and shrubberies coming down to the line, and a summer-house 
 overlooking the country, with hidian* chairs and matting, and we had 
 drawn fancy picttires of the family sitting round the table in the long 
 dining-room whose windows we could see, and who, hearing of the 
 arrival of houseless and dinnerless strangers in the town, bound on an 
 errand of mercy, would send a polite domestic in gorgeous livery to seek 
 for us, with a courteous invitation to become the honoured guests of that 
 White Chateau; and great was our surprise and amusement the next 
 morning, when, on descending from our room, we wandered into the 
 garden before breakfast, to find ourselves standing close by the Indian 
 summer-house. We were actually the guests of the White Chateau, though 
 the happy family and the gorgeous footman had faded with the dreams of 
 the night before into empty air. 
 
 The chateau, like so many others we afterwards saw, had been 
 deserted by the happy family of our fancy sketch, and was now occupied 
 as an Ambulancet by the Deaconesses. I Far better it should be so than be 
 used as soldiers' quarters. It was the great object then and afterwards to 
 turn every good house into an Ambulance where it was possible to do so, 
 and much abuse arose from an unlimited use of the article of the Geneva 
 Convention, § which stipulates for the safety of every house in which 
 wounded are nursed. Persons who had neither the means nor the 
 instruction sufficient to support and nurse the wounded, would beg for a 
 wounded man or two as a security, and the result was much neglect from 
 
 * Wickenvork made of interlaced rattan palm twigs. 
 
 t In this period the word "ambulance" denoted a field hospital. 
 
 i In the early Christian church women were ordained as Deaconesses. The Order was revived in 
 1833 by the Lutheran pastor Fliedner at Kaiserswerth near Dusseldorf. Florence Nightingale, who 
 organized a staff of nurses in the Crimean War, had been trained at Kaiserswerth. 
 
 § At the time this treaty was very new. Genevan businessman Henri Dunant (1828-1910), 
 wanting to exploit Algerian land, had gone to plead for water rights with the French Emperor who 
 was on a military campaign in Italy. Immediately Dunant found himself embroiled in the bloody 
 Battle of Solferino. This inspired him to campaign for national relief societies to care for wartime 
 wounded. The result was that in 1864, 12 nations signed the Geneva Convention, guaranteeing 
 the neutrality of persons who aid wounded and sick soldiers of any nationality, and adopting a 
 white flag with a red cross (the Swiss flag reversed) to mark their neutrality. European countries 
 ratified the Convention within two years. The USA did not do so until 1882.
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 1 9 
 
 ignorance, and much suffering from want not only of the luxuries, but the 
 necessaries for a sick or wounded man; and it was a wise rule which was 
 afterwards made that no house should be considered an Ambulance 
 unless it could accommodate six wounded. I myself spoke with an old 
 woman who went to the Prussian commandant du place (town mayor)* at 
 Orleans to get a brassardt stamped and a safe-conduct for her house as an 
 Ambulance for one man. I asked her what she could give him to eat and 
 drink, to begin with; she said milk, and a little bread. She had nothing but 
 that for herself, but she could not support the hardship of having four 
 German soldiers in her little cottage. I had much trouble to persuade her 
 it was no use applying for a licence, and I believe I utterly failed in the 
 attempt. 
 
 After breakfast we packed up all our little baggage, and waited for 
 our Secretary and the aide-de-camp. He presently arrived, and told us he 
 thought we should do much better to remain there in the chateau, and 
 establish an Ambulance, than go to head-quarters; and he had told the 
 aide-de-camp so, who had gone off to report it to Prince PlessI at Pont-a- 
 Mousson, and that he would make all arrangements witli the Deaconesses. 
 Now there were twelve Deaconesses to thirty wounded, and no prospect 
 of more arriving, as all, however badly hurt, were at this time sent on by 
 train. It was a transgression of our positive orders, which left no 
 discretion to us as to our destination; and besides, the Deaconesses did not 
 want us, and plainly said so. Nothing could be kinder or more courteous 
 than they were. If we were resolved to stay, they would do their best to 
 make us comfortable: give us a wing of the house, the use of all their 
 cooking utensils, anything in their power; but they did not really want or 
 wish for us; and it was an anomalous position for English ladies to be 
 placed in, to force themselves into a house, unasked, and establish 
 themselves there, where they could be of no service, and where even their 
 stores were not required, as the Deaconesses were amply supplied by the 
 Order of St. John. We plainly expressed our opinion, and urged 
 compliance with our written orders. The Secretary, excited himself; but 
 
 * The correct translation is military governor (of a garrison town). 
 
 t According to Article 7 of the Geneva Convention: "A distinctive and uniform flag shall be 
 adopted for hospitals, ambulances and evacuations. It must, on every occasion, be accompanied 
 by the national flag. An arm-badge (brassard) shall also be allowed for individuals neutralized, 
 but the delivery thereof shall be left to military authority. The flag and the arm-badge shall bear a 
 red cross on a white ground." 
 
 $ As Royal Commissioner and General Inspector he was responsible for the German Army 
 Ambulance Department.
 
 20 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 
 
 firmness won the d<\v. and the arrival of Mr. Herberte,* who had reached 
 Remilly with his stores three hours after us, settled the question. He 
 offered to take the ladies on to Pont-a-Mousson in his waggonette, if the 
 gentlemen would follow with the baggage; and it was so arranged, and 
 that we were to start at three o'clock. 
 
 This being happily settled, we began to enjoy the beauties of the 
 garden, when a great noise and bustle suddenly commenced in the street, 
 below the wall which divided the garden from the town. We went 
 directly on to the raised terrace just inside the wall, and saw four soldiers 
 running from all quarters with their arms, and taking up a position 
 opposite the gate. A long road, leading in a straight line to Metz, was 
 visible, and evidently something was expected down this road. On 
 enquiry, we heard there was a sortie from Metz, that the French were 
 coming straight to the village, and the Prussian outposts were already 
 driven in. The Deaconesses were very anxious that a conspicuous Red- 
 Cross flag should be exhibited from the topmost turret, as if the French 
 had artillery, we were in the direct line of fire; though, if the Prussians 
 defended the road, it was difficult to see how, in a military point of view, 
 they could be dislodged by artillery, without the necessity of including the 
 chateau in the fire of their guns. We were exactly in the position of a bull's 
 eye in a target, and the Red-Cross flag would have been of very little use. 
 However, the Deaconesses and several of our ladies set to work to make 
 one, which, being extended on the floor of the vestibule, the party at work 
 round it in various gave the exact effect of a game of 'Hunt the slipper.' 
 All the grand preparahons, however, were useless; the report was a false 
 one, and the town settled down into such quietude as a town only sixteen 
 miles from a besieged city, and much closer still to the besieging lines, 
 may be supposed to enjoy. 
 
 About three o'clock we were summoned by Mr. Herberte to embark 
 on board his waggonette. The Secretary and surgeon had procured 
 waggons for the baggage, and professed their intention of walking, 
 though why they could not have got a little chanette or country cart, I do 
 not know. The stores of the Cologne Ambulance and ours were all placed 
 in charge of a troop of cavalry, together with the military stores. Major 
 Siersdorff, the commander, ordered us all to keep together till we reached 
 Cormy, where we were to rest for the night; but it was already late before, 
 to use a naval phrase, the convoy got under weigh. Our waggonette and 
 
 * The gentleman of the Cologne Ambulance whose name was previously given as Herbert an 
 evident confusion with Mr. Herbert of the British Society who appears later.
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 21 
 
 the light carriage, with the Major and three other officers, soon outstripped 
 the heavy waggons, and we had perpetually to stop till they came up. 
 
 About this period it appears our gentlemen were seized with the 
 brilliant idea of taking a short cut through the woods; and, disregarding 
 the advice of some gentlemen attached to an Italian Ambulance from 
 Turin, which they were on the way to join near Metz, the rash individuals 
 cut themselves sticks, and set out on a walking tour. The result may be 
 easily guessed: we missed each other. Darkness came on, and we were 
 still far from Cormy, but the lights of a large cavalry camp were 
 glimmering in the distance. The Major and Mr. Herberte having consulted 
 together, and finding the baggage waggons still far in the rear, it was 
 resolved that we should push on as fast as possible to the village close by 
 the camp, where was the Chateau of Coin-sur-Seille, now occupied by his 
 Excellency General Von der Groeben, as head-quarters of the division he 
 commanded. We passed the little huts of the camp, roughly made 
 branches stuck into the ground and interwoven together, for the Germans 
 have no tents; and, turning down a wooded lane, drove into a crowded 
 court-yard, where we halted whilst our kind escort went to ask hospitality 
 for us from the General. 
 
 He soon returned with an aide-de-camp, who spoke English perfectly, 
 and told us he had an English wife. He was most courteous; said the 
 General only regretted he had not known of our coming sooner, to 
 prepare some rooms for us; but at this time of night we must content 
 ourselves with such rough accommodation as he could offer us. Thankful 
 even for this, we got out of the carriage, and were met on the steps of the 
 chateau by a very gentlemanly officer, who was no less a person than the 
 General himself. He welcomed us with the utmost kindness, and taking a 
 light from the hand of one of the servants, himself preceded us up stairs, 
 showed us into a coviple of rooms where we could rest for the night, and 
 withdrew, wishing us good repose. Two elderly females made their 
 appearance; they were old servants of the family who had left the chateau. 
 They had nothing to offer us, poor things; they had a hard struggle to live 
 themselves; but they got us some hot water, and we made a little soup 
 with Warren's meat biscuits,* which refreshed us very much. Louise said 
 she saw at the Remilly station barrels of the same biscuit, for the use of the 
 Prussian army; and though this little book is not like the Christmas 
 
 * Gail Borden, Jr. (1801-1874). who was the first to develop a commercial method of condensing 
 miUc, in the 1840s boiled 120 pounds of beef down to 10 pounds, dehydrated it, mixed in flour, 
 and baked it into biscuits. His hopes for an American Army contract for the biscuits were dashed 
 because they tasted like glue. Warren evidently had a better recipe.
 
 22 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 
 
 pantomimes no\v-a-days. a vehicle tor advertisements, it is but just to say 
 how \erv good the soup was which they made, and it was fortunate for 
 the Prussians to have a supply of them. 
 
 We were up \ery early the next morning; and, descending into the 
 large old-fashioned kitchen of the chateau, bribed the servants to give us a 
 little coffee and bread and butter; whilst thus breakfasting, we heard the 
 history of the chateau. It belonged to a "Madame Windle,' an 
 Englishwoman probably, as she had gone to England. The chateau had 
 been taken possession of and turned into a barrack by the Prussians; but 
 the old ladies spoke in the highest terms of General Von der Groeben and 
 his considerate kindness. There was no wanton mischief or destruction, 
 onlv several acts of dishonesty on the part of individual soldiers, such as 
 pocketing rich china cups and small articles for use or ornament, and 
 carrying off saucepans and other cooking utensils; but compared with 
 what we saw and heard afterwards, in other places, the chateau had a 
 fortunate escape in being occupied by so true a gentleman as his 
 Excellency. 
 
 We wandered about the lovely terraced gardens, and gathered 
 handfuls of autumn roses! The pears and grapes were not ripe, nor the 
 peaches and apricots, and if they had been, there would have been none 
 left for us. There were too many troopers lounging about not to have 
 spied out the first ripe fruit and appropriate it, if there had been any. But 
 at the best it is a sad sight to see a splendid home so pulled to pieces; 
 drawing-rooms turned into bed-rooms; the gilded furniture all displaced 
 and strewn about here and there. Too often far worse scenes occur; and it 
 is sadder still to see a cottage home so desecrated, and the savings of a 
 life-time destroyed in an hour. 
 
 We left the chateau about eight o'clock, having thanked the General 
 for his kindness, and Mr. Herberte having told us that his cousin in the 
 Cuirassiers was most anxious to show us their camp, we drove back a few 
 yards, and then walked through the k:)ng line of huts. All looked bright 
 and cheerful in, the morning sunlight. Accoutrements were being cleaned; 
 horses were saddling, and the troopers were preparing to mount when the 
 breakfast in the officers' hut was over. There was no difference in this hut, 
 except that it was larger, and a few mats and rugs were on the straw 
 which formed at once bed and carpet. The huts were arranged in streets 
 as in all camps, and the pathways were kept very clean. The regiment was 
 one of the White Cuirassiers. The uniform is the same in all these 
 regiments, a steel breast-plate, a helmet — whose shape is that of the only 
 perfectly graceful helmet I ever saw — white coats and jack-boots. The
 
 THE TWO CHATEAUX. 23 
 
 difference is in the facings:* some having blue, some black, brown, yellow, 
 or green. 
 
 After this we crossed the road to the Lancers' camp, the other side, 
 and watched the exercises of the cavalry, both light and heavy, for some 
 time, expecting every instant the arrival of the convoy and the missing 
 gentlemen. Intelligence came at last that they had stopped short of Coin- 
 sur-Seille for the night, and gone on to Cormy by another road, and we 
 started off for the same town, where a road branched off to Pont-a- 
 Mousson. There had been an universal agreement amongst us that 
 stragglers were to rendezvous at Cormy, and we felt assured of meeting 
 our friends and baggage there, and being safely taken on to the head- 
 quarters before night. We should then receive our orders from Prince 
 Pless, the head of the German ambulance department, and know our 
 destination; but our wanderings were not fated to terminate so easily, and 
 Cormy was to be the beginning instead of the end of our troubles. But no 
 omen of evil disturbed us as we drove along the high road from Coin-sur- 
 Seille to Cormy, in the sunshine of that lovely August morning. 
 
 Material sewn to the edge of the collar, cuff and jacket front of the cuirassiers' white uniform.
 
 24 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 
 
 The road from Coin-sur-Seille to Cormy was an exceedingly pretty 
 one: trees on each side of it, and a charming view over green fields and 
 patches of u'ood to a blue distance; and as we drove along, and came 
 suddenly round a corner, a fresh view was disclosed — the houses of a 
 large town and the spire of a splendid cathedral. It looked so cheerful and 
 beautiful, witli the quiet fertile country all around; and yet that city was 
 Metz, and the low dull sound we heard now and then the booming of the 
 cannon. We were nearer to the town than the Prussian lines, but the 
 works of defence were hidden by the intervening country. We looked at it 
 with a strange interest. The siege had at that hme hardly begun, and its 
 future fate was all uncertain. M'Mahon and tlie relieving forces were 
 probably on the march, and no one could foretell the dark tale of treason 
 and shame that will go down with the name of Metz to the latest 
 posterity.* 
 
 It was noon when we reached Cormy, a town of one long street and 
 one cross street, crowded with men attached to various Ambulances. We 
 halted just through the town, and looked about for our friends and 
 baggage. Nowhere could we see them. Major Siersdorff told us that he 
 had enquired at the quarters of the Knights of St. John, and had orders for 
 us to go on directly to Ste. Marie-aux-Chenes, near Metz, which was full of 
 wounded. This message had been left by the Secretary; but where he was 
 was a mystery; a greater mystery still why he did not wait at Cormy 
 according to agreement, and why he did not make the slightest effort to 
 find us; for at that very time he was in Cormy, as Louise saw tlie surgeon 
 (Mr. Parker) at a distance, and wanted to speak to him, but was over- 
 persuaded by the lady who was with her to go on to the house where they 
 had been informed another lady and myself had taken refuge from the 
 confusion in the streets. I had gone to search for our convoy, and meeting 
 a very civil young German gentleman, with the Red-Cross badge on his 
 
 * Bazaine entered into diplomatic intrigue with the Germans, which led to his capitulation at Metz 
 on 27 October. Convicted of treason in 1873. he was sentenced to 20 years of seclusion but 
 escaped. He spent the rest of his life in Italy and Spain.
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 25 
 
 arm, who directed my companion and myself to the quarters of the 
 Knights of St. John, we had accepted his kind offer to take us to the garden 
 of an hospital, where soup was being boiled, and to give us a basin whilst 
 he sent in search of our companions, who were just at the end of the street. 
 
 Louise persisted that she had seen the doctor, and I went back with 
 her to the spot. We found a camp fire, and the gentlemen of the Swiss 
 Ambulance taking a rough dinner by it. They said our friend had been 
 there, and one of them had met the Secretary only ten minutes before. 
 They were sure he was still in town. Now it was an important point to 
 find him. There were we, with no roof to shelter us, sitting by a road-side, 
 uncertain what to do and where to go; and to add to our troubles, Mr. 
 Herberte got his orders to go to some other villages, and could not take us 
 to Ste. Marie. We had no vehicle, and were certainly in as awkward a 
 predicament as ever English ladies were placed in. A suspicion of unfair 
 play crossed the minds of Louise and myself at that time, and has never 
 since been dissipated. Why was no note left for us? We had only a vague 
 message; and the Secretary, the surgeon, and the valuable stores, had all 
 vanished together. 
 
 Now the sympathies of Louise and myself were strongly French;* I do 
 not deny it; but that never interfered with our doing all in our power for 
 the German wounded. In that, at least, we were strictly neutral; and so 
 neutral that the Secretary might have a guess we should object to the 
 entire appropriation of the Society's stores for the benefit of the Knights of 
 St. John or the German use alone. Was this at the bottom of a wish to part 
 the ladies and the stores — in short, to get rid of the female incumbrances, 
 while he ckmg to the baggage? We shall never know; but there we were; 
 and in a hopeless state I invaded the sanctum of the knights, and 
 requested we might be sent on. We waited awhile, all in vain, still 
 expecting some news. How our heavy waggons got out of town I do not 
 know, ur\less they went by a cross road, so as to avoid the main street; 
 otherwise we must have seen them. 
 
 But at last it was time to depart. Our kind friends of the Cologne 
 Ambulance were off, and we felt very desolate and helpless as we sat on a 
 bench by the road-side to wait for the two rough waggons which were to 
 
 * In contrast, most British people sided with the Germans, having been taken in by another of 
 Bismarck's dirty tricks. Prussian victories over Denmark and Austria had shifted the European 
 balance of power, so the French ambassador was instructed to seek some kind of compensation. 
 Bismarck suggested that France might annex Belgium and invited the ambassador to prepare a 
 secret memorandum suggesting how that might be facilitated. Bismarck then published the 
 memorandum, making France appear to be an unscrupulous bully and intriguer.
 
 26 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 
 
 convey us. Thev came at last, and with them a most gentlemanly Knight 
 of St. John to act as our escort, and we started. Perhaps very few English 
 have travelled in those bullock-waggons, with their very long poles and 
 sleepy drivers, who, regardless of any thing except their nap and pipe, 
 and evidently unaccustomed to travel in long strings of vehicles such as 
 crowded all the roads now-a-days, never thought of pulling up when a 
 stop cKCurred, so that our pole ran with a sudden jerk into the waggon in 
 front, and the waggon beliind ran theirs into us, and a sort of electric 
 shock ran all up and down the line; and as this happened on an average 
 every ten minutes, the progress if slow is excihng; but, except for this, the 
 mode of travelling is delightful. Extended on a heap of sweet-smelling 
 hav, wandering slowlv through a lovely country, buried in a soft bed, and 
 sheltered from rain by pulling a water-proof sheet over all, and going to 
 sleep under it, it is a dreamy, idle way of going from place to place, which, 
 if you are not in a hurry, is the perfection of the 'Dolce far niente.'* 
 
 The waggons were ready; the Knight of St. John mounted in front had 
 confided to our care his elegant court sword, having evidently more 
 confidence in his revolver; we had arranged ourselves comfortably, and 
 were about to start, when an excited individual, also a Knight of St. John, 
 dashed up and ordered us to stop. We humbly asked why, and who he 
 was; and he replied. Major Baron von Zedlitz. Now I had been warned 
 before I left London, if I did encounter such an individual, to keep clear of 
 him. He had nothing to do with us. We were to obey Prince Pless, and no 
 one else; and I remarked that we were going to Ste. Marie-aux-Chenes, 
 and that, as we were late, I should be obliged by his not detaining us. On 
 this he grew furious, and declared we were to stay in Cormy. There were 
 so many wounded there, we must remain to nurse them; and he would 
 give us a house and send for our baggage; but stay we should. I declined 
 positively to do so, and he used what I believe might be very bad 
 language, veiled in guttural German; at least it sounded like it, and we 
 thought so, because he added directly afterwards, 'If you were in a 
 drawing-room I should not speak so to you.' To this I answered, 'A lady is 
 a lady in a hay-waggon as well as a drawing-room; you ought to 
 remember that.' He then said the English Society had sent us. I said 'Yes,' 
 and their orders we were bound to obey. His reply was iiot very apropos: 
 'That he cared nothing for the Prince of Wales.' This must have been such 
 a dreadful loss to his royal highness that we laughed outright, and our 
 Chevalier requested the Baron to 'go away' — a mild translation, but 
 
 * Pleasant idUng. The literally translation of the Italian is "sweet to do nothing."
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 27 
 
 expressing the sense of what he said; and as the bullocks took it into their 
 heads to go on, we did go on, and left our friend gesticulating in the 
 street.* 
 
 It was two o'clock when we left Cormy, and a seven hours' journey 
 before us; and just as we got out of the town, and down a steep bank, 
 which would have been the ruin of a respectable carriage, we met a troop 
 of dragoons. The officer stopped us, asked if we were the English ladies, 
 and said an express had been sent to Remilly to bring us to head-quarters. 
 Prince Pless was very angry that we had not come on with the aide-de- 
 camp, as arranged on our first arrival. We said we must go on to Ste. 
 Marie now as our stores and baggage were there, but we would tell the 
 Secretary. I must here remark that our surgeon, Mr. Parker, had gone on 
 with him, on the faith that a gentleman to whom the Secretary spoke was 
 Prince Pless. The description did not accord with the personal appearance 
 of the Prince, as we saw him afterwards at Versailles; nor is it clear why 
 the Prince should send a messenger from Pont-a-Mousson to bring us on 
 there, and then give orders in Cormy that we should go to Ste. Marie; and 
 why he did not give them some written order? We were thoroughly 
 puzzled; and as Louise and I sat nestling in the hay, discussing the matter 
 with profound gravity, we must have reminded any looker-on of the 
 original owls in an ivy bush.t Our sagacious discourse was cut short by a 
 worse jerk than usual, and we saw we were by the baiik of a river, across 
 which was thrown a temporary bridge for exit from the town, while the real 
 bridge was reserved for the passage of the carts of wounded which still 
 came on in endless stream from the neighbourhood of the battle-fields. 
 
 Had we been five minutes sooner we could have crossed, but a 
 German regiment was just ahead of us; after them came all their provision 
 waggons, and they were followed by a pontoon train,t the massive iron 
 boats placed on very heavy broad-wheeled trucks, which tried the 
 strength of the bridge. It bore very well, except that every now and then 
 some plank had to be replaced. But it was just at the other end, where the 
 bank of soft sand rose steeply, that all the troubles occurred. The only 
 chance of getting up it was lashing the horses into a gallop, and this only 
 
 * Baron von Zedlitz got on better with dogs. The next year he crossed a German poodle with an 
 English pointer, thus originating the pudelpointer breed. Two feet high at the shoulder with wiry brown 
 coats, pudelpointers hunt and point game, trail wounded birds, retrieve from land or water, and are 
 unobtrusive fireside companions and watchdogs. 
 
 t "Having a sapient, vacant look, as some persons have when in their cups." — Brewer's Phrase 
 and Fable. 1898. 
 
 t Pontoon boats and other bridging material.
 
 28 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 
 
 succeeded hdlt Wciv. tor the wheels ot the heavy trucks invariably sank so 
 deep into the sand that other horses had to be attached in front, and the 
 wheels dug out; and when this was done, and the waggon safely landed 
 on the road the bank had to be re-made, and so on for about twenty 
 waggons. Two whole hours we waited in despair, watching the 
 proceeding, and thinking how much more simple it would have been to 
 have sent the pontcxin trains by the old bridge, and the lighter carts by the 
 new; but the order had been given, and it would have required an 
 applicahon to at least three departments, and three dozen officers, a quire 
 of paper, and a couple of secretaries, to have diverted the course of one 
 waggon. There never were such a people for pens and ink and forms to 
 fill in as the Prussians. Our Circumlocution Office* is nothing to it. 
 
 But at last we started, and got fairly over the bridge and into the long 
 line of waggons going up one way and coming down the other. It seemed 
 as hopeless as ever; but our gallant Knight aroused himself, called to a 
 dragoon, and we were allowed to break the line and go on. We saw a 
 refractory waggon and driver fairly hunted off the road, down the bank, 
 and into the meadow below. It seemed impossible for it not to go over, 
 but it escaped. At last we came where the waggons were three abreast, 
 and a carriage containing a wounded officer of rank was trying to pass 
 down the road. One resource remained for us, if we would not pass hours 
 in the block, and it was had recourse to. The dragoon, brandishing his 
 drawn sword and shouting fearfully, dashed down the bank and into the 
 field; our driver stood up and urged on his quiet beasts, and to my horror 
 I found we were going after the dragoon. What a jolting and bumping it 
 was! But the waggon was evidently built on the principle of never losing 
 its equilibrium, and as for the harness breaking, it could not well do that, 
 for the ropes of which it was composed were so loose that the wonder was 
 how the bullocks kept in them, and why they did not catch tlieir feet in the 
 traces which dangled about. Over the meadow we went, till we had 
 headed the line and regained the road. The Knight wrapped himself up in 
 his cloak, and lighted his cigar. We dug a hole in the hay, in which we 
 could keep ourselves warm (for the sun was setting and the evening was 
 damp and chill), and composed ourselves to sleep. Weary hours passed 
 away, and still the bullocks jogged on. Three times we went the wrong 
 road, and had to retrace our steps. We passed through the town of Ars- 
 sur-Moselle, with its Roman ruint. Night set in, and there we were, 
 
 * The essential department of any government, satirized in Charles Dickens' Uttle Dorrit. 
 
 t A river bridge links Ars-sur-Moselle with its sister city Jouy aux Arches where there is a Gallo- 
 Roman aqueduct.
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 29 
 
 between Metz and the Prussian lines, and our destination apparently as 
 far off as ever. We slept and woke, and slept again; we got cold and 
 cramped; and where we were no one knew, not the Knight or the drivers. 
 
 Except our two waggons, not a vehicle was to be seen, and the villages 
 were deserted. At last we emerged on a level space of country. It lay 
 white and bare in the darkness, and a fearful smell compelled us to keep 
 our handkerchiefs close to our faces, and even then it produced a feeling 
 of sickness. The Knight flung away the red end of his last cigar, and 
 turning round, told us this was the battle-field. We could see nothing but 
 the outline of a vast space, over, which we had to pass. The sad details 
 were hidden in the darkness, and we went slowly on till we entered a 
 ruined village, and halted before an almost roofless house, where lights 
 were still gleaming, thovigh a hot steam on the windows hid the 
 occupants. Tlie door opened, and a gentleman came out, his stained apron 
 showing too plainly what had been his occupation. He told us the village 
 was Gravelotte, Ste. Marie was a mile further on, and prayed for bread 
 and wine for his wounded. We had none to give. The Knight promised to 
 send some back from their stores at Ste. Marie, and we started again. Just 
 beyond and behind tlie village the hottest fight had been, and the dead 
 had been hastily buried by a hillock between Gravelotte and Ste. Marie, 
 but indeed for miles the whole battle-field was scarred with a thousand 
 graves; not single tombs, but trenches, in which the dead were piled, with 
 a rough wooden cross above them, to point out the place.* Catholic and 
 Protestant alike seem to have accepted that holy sign as the most fitting to 
 mark where the soldiers of both nations and all faiths were buried side by 
 side on the field where they fell. Just afterwards we passed a number of 
 blazing watchfires. They were the outposts of the army of Prince 
 Frederick Charles.t 
 
 In half an hour more we halted again at the entrance of a village. A 
 German sentinel told us it was Ste. Marie, and now where our Secretary 
 and the baggage were was the question. We wandered slowly on through 
 the long street, not meeting a living soul, till we found ourselves at tlie 
 other extreme end of the village. Here a countryman appeared, who 
 
 * Remains of individual soldiers were not generally put into separate graves untU World War I, 
 when war graves registration services were set up. 
 
 t Frederick Charles, Prince of Prussia (1828-85) was the eldest son of Prince Charles, and thus 
 nephew of King William I, who became Emperor of Germany in 1 87 1, his mother being a sister of 
 the Empress Augusta. As a general of cavalry, he commanded the Prussian army's right wing 
 during the Danish War of 1864. In the Austrian War of 1866, he commanded the First Army, and 
 the crowning victory of Sadowa was mainly due to him. In the Franco-German War he led the 
 Second Army to victories at Thionville and Gravelotte.
 
 30 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 
 
 suggested that probably tlie strangers were at a 'chateau' which he 
 pointed out, down a very muddy lane. The Knight proposed that before 
 we ventured down it on what might be a useless search he should go and 
 enquire, unless we were atraid to be left; but really we saw no cause for 
 fear in the street of a village, however deserted; and he was about to start 
 when we heard a call, and saw our absconded friends ruruiing up the 
 street, professing their great astonishment at seeing us, their wonder at 
 how they could have missed us, and the agonies of mind they had gone 
 through on our account. Where we were to sleep was the question, and 
 the night being far advanced, it was indeed a serious question. The Knight 
 most courteously suggested that at all events the quarters of the Knights 
 of St. joliii would doubtless afford us shelter; and there we repaired, and 
 were recei\-ed by what we might irreverently describe as an elderly party, 
 the very type of a lodginghouse keeper; but who, we were informed, was 
 a Mrs. Seeman, who had come from Dresden, with some Alexandrine 
 Sisters,* to assist the knights in their care of the wounded. 
 
 We were shown into a most comfortable room, with handsome 
 mahogany bedsteads, feather beds, pillows, and clean sheets. We had not 
 undressed since we left England, nine days before, and tlie prospect was 
 most inviting. There were two or three Knights there, distinguished by the 
 white enamel cross suspended round the neck, and a young esquire.t 
 They regretted that they had but little to offer us, but to that we were 
 welcome; and we gratefully accepted some very weak tea and some slices 
 of rye bread. We wondered what was to become of us. Would the Knights 
 vacate their comfortable beds, and sleep in their cloaks in some other 
 apartment, or were there other apartments as luxuriously furnished; for, 
 in spite of the stores piled about the room, it was comparative luxury. At 
 last Madame S — rose, and said two of the ladies must sleep in the house 
 where the Knights dined, and the others in this house. We waited till she 
 returned from disposing of them for the night, and she then showed us 
 into a sort of closet, in which was a bed; and how thankful we were to 
 creep into it, even hungry as we were, and to enjoy our first good night's 
 rest! I do not think we should have gone off to sleep so contentedly had 
 we known, as we did afterwards, tliat the Knights of St. John sat down to 
 a good hot supper, with pale alet and wine. But how they do their work 
 will be seen as we go on. It was enough for us to have tea and bread and a 
 
 * Nuns of the Eastern Orthodox Church of Alexandria. 
 
 t An attendant on a knight. 
 
 + A mild flavoured beer with low alcohol content.
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DRIVE. 31 
 
 bed; and had our privations been unavoidable, we should have been 
 rather glad of them than otherwise; but it was not so, and Mr. Parker often 
 said afterwards he felt ashamed to sit down and sup with them, knowing 
 how little we had had. 
 
 It was well he did. It was his last chance for some days, and hard and 
 trying work lay before him; and often we stinted ourselves to leave a 
 larger portion for one, who, we knew, must require it more than we did; 
 so it was well that he enjoyed a good supper. The name of our kind and 
 courteous escort we never knew; but if ever this book should meet his eye, 
 we beg here to thank him for the trouble he took, and the long journey he 
 underwent, in fulfilment of his knightly duty of guarding unprotected 
 females over a lonely country, and past the outposts of the besieging and 
 defending forces, where, certainly, it was wholly unfitting for them to 
 veiiture alone. But our venturous journey was safely ended under his 
 care, and we were ready to commence our duties with the coming day.
 
 32 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 The morning of the 23rd of August opened with a down-pour of rain, 
 which continued all day. Under such circumstances no lonely village like 
 Ste. Marie could have looked gay; but the brightest sunshine would have 
 failed to give an air of cheerfulness to a place so ruined, so desolate, so full 
 of pain and sorrow. It might have been truly said of it that day 'There was 
 not a house where there was not one dead.'* The battles of the 16th, 17th, 
 and 18th. had extended over many miles of country, on which stood 
 several villages, amongst them St. Privat, Vionville, Gravelotte, Briey, and 
 Ste. Marie; and the wounded, who could not be carried to the rear, were 
 dispersed amongst these villages. The inhabitants had mostly fled from 
 them. Shot and shell had done their work of destruction. All the habitable 
 houses were occupied as Ambulances, whilst the churches were also 
 crowded. The miseries endured by the poor fellows, laid down to suffer and 
 die in the first shelter that could be found — their greatest luxury a heap of 
 straw — must be seen to be understood. Too often overlooked in out-of-the- 
 way bams and stables, they long in vain for even bread or water; and death 
 on the battle-field is a happy alternative from such prolonged agony. 
 
 It was now our duty to go amidst these scenes of horror, and we 
 prepared ourselves, ready for the arrival of the surgeon-in-chief, who was 
 to allot to us our share in the work. But first some sort of breakfast was 
 desirable, and Mrs. Seeman informed us we should have some bread and 
 coffee when the Knights had finished their repast, and we had ground a 
 certain quantity of coffee-beans. The oldest and crankiest of coffee-mills 
 was produced. We set to work — one of the ladies really was most 
 indefatigable — but imagine our disgust when we found we were gririding 
 for the Knights! We abandoned the coffee-mill, and adjourned to the 
 other house, to wait for what might come. Coffee and rye bread came at 
 last. I suppose the Knights had eaten all the butter and eggs, for we only 
 saw the shells; and when we returned to the quarters we were shown into 
 an airy loft, without a single article of furniture in it, and informed this 
 was our bed-room, and the gentlemen and the stores were to be stowed in 
 
 When God murdered all the first-born in Egypt. Exodus 12:30.
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 33 
 
 the entrance, which was part of the loft, divided from it by a partition of 
 planks. The windows were all broken, and tlie shutters hung loose on 
 their hinges. It was lucky it was August. We thought that probably they 
 would find us two or three mattresses, and a table, and a couple of chairs, 
 so that we should be pretty comfortable. As for a toilette apparatvis, we 
 had been told that morning that there was no water, except for the 
 woimded and for cooking, so that was evidently a superfluity. Water was 
 doubtless very scarce. The streams and wells were tainted with blood. It 
 was only what was in the cisterns that was available. We had grown very 
 immoral by this time, and regarded the theft of a couple of pints of water 
 as a venial sin, and with this we all made our toilette. It was the greatest 
 hardship of all, and we resolved that, come what might, water we would 
 find, even if the Knights had to grow their beards, and do without the 
 cans of shaving-water we saw carried into their room. 
 
 This, however, is a digression. To return to the later events of the day. 
 The surgeon-in-chief came at last, paid us a great many pretty 
 compliments, sent one surgeon to the church with one of the ladies, 
 allotted to another a house in which were all the worst cases of gangrene, 
 to Louise several stables full of wounded, to myself a house with about 
 fifty. Surgeons and orderlies were very scarce. There was not a Sister of 
 Mercy there, and the Alexandrine Sisters remained in the quarters to see 
 to the cookery, and assist Mrs. Seeman. The dinners were to be given out 
 at noon. Our first task was to wash the men as much as possible — a great 
 difficulty with little water, no soap, and no sponges. Charpie, however, 
 answered as well; and when their dirty stocks* were taken off, and as 
 much of their blood-stained clothes as possible, we commenced to dress 
 the wounds of all, except those whom the surgeons themselves attended 
 to. In Louise's case she could not undress her poor men. They had only 
 straw, and were obliged to keep on their coats. Nothing is so bad for them 
 as this. The dust arid blood, the sensation of dirt, is quite enough to make 
 them feverish. The lady who had tlie church worked very hard; she put it 
 into splendid order in twenty-four hours; but though the storehouse of the 
 Knights was full of goods, there was immense difficulty in getting anything. 
 
 Many of the men were so desperately wounded it was useless to do 
 anything but give them a little water. One man in my house laid 
 grovelling on the floor; he would not keep on his mattress, and tore off 
 even the blanket, his sole covering; he had been shot in the head, and 
 how he had survived was a marvel. His awful appearance, as he rose 
 
 * A band worn around the neck originally intended to protect the soldier from sabre blows.
 
 34 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 and staggered about the room, with the blood streaming down, was too 
 much tor the nerves ot tine wounded soldiers. The German orderlies 
 tried to keep him quiet; all in vain; and to finish his sad story, I applied 
 to the surgeon to liave him placed somewhere alone. It was twenty-four 
 hours before it was done; and during the night he rose, and trying to get 
 out. nearlv fell upon a poor Frenchman, the back part of whose right 
 shoulder had been entirely carried away by a piece of shell. He shrieked 
 with terror, and the orderlies declared that, order or no order, the 
 miserable man must be changed, and he was finally taken down into the 
 loose box* of a stable below, where next day he died. 
 
 The hav-loft over this stable was the operation room, to which 
 patients were brought from the smaller houses, and here the surgeons 
 worked for hours at their sad task. About noon the soup came, no meat, 
 only a morsel of bread, and having seen the dinner finished, I was going 
 up the street to get mine, when I met Louise coming out of her stables. 
 She asked me what time the patients were to have their soup. I said 
 dinner was over, and on going to the quarters she discovered that her men 
 had been quite forgotten. This rectified, we went into the other house, and 
 found some soup, a very small piece of boiled bacon, and no vegetables. 
 On this we dined, and went back to our work, which was more to watch 
 the men, give tliem water, and change such dressings as required 
 replacing, than the active work of the morning. No wine was allowed to 
 the French, and no cigars. The Germans had both, and the stores were full 
 of wine and tobacco, so the want of tliem could not be the excuse. I 
 applied to Mrs. Seeman for a bottle, and with some grumbling she gave 
 me one. Louise also got some, and we gave it equally to both. Nothing 
 can be kinder or more good-natured than German Infirmierst to friend 
 and foe alike, and when I left the bottle at night I foimd in the morning 
 they had given it, as I had done, to both. It was but a little each man 
 required, just to flavour and colour the water. 
 
 The rain continued as hard as ever, and as I weiit home to see how our 
 bed-room was furnished, I found exactly what I had left — nothing. I sent 
 for some straw. The German orderly who acted as servant instantly sent 
 half-a-dozen soldiers with a shockt a-piece, and half-a-dozen more after 
 them. Louise and I then divided the straw, and laid our waterproof sheet 
 
 * Compartment for livestock, larger than a stall, so that they are free to move about. 
 
 t Male nurses. 
 
 i Here the word is used as a synonym for 'sheaf (a bundle of straw or wheat with the stalks tied 
 
 together), b later chapters 'shock' usually has the present-day meaning: an assemblage of about a 
 
 dozen sheaves placed in a field butt ends down as a protection against the weather.
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 35 
 
 over our heap, and seeing a large chest of 'spongio piline,'* one of those 
 useless things sent out by tlie committee, we covered the sheet with the 
 squares of spongio, and finding some sheets in a box, which said sheets 
 were utterly useless at present in the stables, we laid them over it, and so 
 constructed a bed that was at least clean, if not very soft. We tlien turned 
 another chest of spongio on end, hung a railroad rug gracefully over it, and 
 adorned it with our dressing things and several small books. We also got a 
 card-board box of quiniiie powders, covered that with a small white cloth, 
 stood up a round hand-glass upon it against the wall, and flattered 
 ourselves that we had a toilette table of decided elegant appearance. 
 Another box served as a table, chairs we had none, and the loft might have 
 been called chilly on this rainy evening, even though it was August; but our 
 work kept us warm. We then adjourned to the entrance, and in a fit of 
 excessive charity set to work at the Surgeon's bed, which was piled up in a 
 recess, and so scientifically did we arrange it, that the unfortunate young 
 man slept, or rather did not sleep, at an angle of forty-five, and passed the 
 rught slipping out at what might be called the foot of tiie bed, only stopped 
 in his career into the centre of the room by the heavy boxes of waterproof 
 sheeting which we had placed at the end of the straw heap to keep him 
 warm and comfortable. His good temper and gaiety were proof even 
 against this trial, and next morning he thanked us for our efforts, but said, if 
 it made no difference to us, he preferred to lie with his head a little lower. 
 
 Supper at seven concluded the day, soup and very little bouillon, and 
 one bottle of very sour wine. We were not epicures, yet we should have 
 enjoyed a small piece of the chickens in white sauce, and the roast 
 potatoes, and a glass of the port wine or pale ale that we saw go in to the 
 Knights, who dined before us. Alas! bones, and empty bottles were our 
 share of the gorgeous banquet! If we had only been allowed to dine before 
 them, it would have been better; but as it was, we always saw the 
 'leavings' and never had any! They went to Frau Seeman. We were very 
 hungry, and that is the honest truth. We had no store of food or wine, and 
 we could not make an indigestible meal of gutta percha tissue,t lint, and 
 
 * "Spongio-piline is sometimes applied to parts to absorb excessive moisture, or to prevent 
 evaporation. It is a thick cloth composed principally of sponge, one side of which is applied to the 
 skin in a wet or dry state, according to the action required; the other side being coated with some 
 water-proof varnish, or with rubber. It may likewise be used to apply moisture to a part or maybe 
 saturated with medicated solutions and applied to the affected part." — King's American 
 Dispensatory. 1898 
 
 t The solidiSed sap of the Malayan gutta-percha tree. It is pliable after immersion in hot water, 
 allowing it to be moulded into a splint. The resin's other uses included plugging a bleeding socket 
 after tooth extraction and covering small wounds and skin infections.
 
 36 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 bandages. Quinine powders were the only things that we could have had; 
 and under the circumstances, and considering the appetite they stimulate, it 
 was not advisable to dose ourselves with them. If really there had been 
 nothing to eat, we should have been quite contented. In our first 
 enthusiasm, as I have said, lu.xuries and comforts were distasteful to us; but 
 we were hungry and there were eatables, but none for us, and we went 
 hungry to bed and were famished in the morning. 
 
 Breakfast was as scanty as ever, and just as it was over we heard the 
 Secretary say something which betrayed his intention of leaving Ste. Marie 
 that day. We instantly asked him where he was going, and he said to 
 England; his task of bringing us out was accomplished, and he should start 
 in an hour. We requested Wm to take some letters for us, and he got very 
 excited, and declared we ought to have no time to write, even to our 
 relations, if we did our work properly. We could just send a Feld-Post card,* 
 but write we could not and should not. Louise most wisely assented to every 
 word he said, fully intending to write a budgett all tlie time by the first 
 opportunitv', and not having any intention of confiding her letters to his care; 
 but 1 incautiously said, 'I have promised Captain Burgess, the Secretary of 
 the Committee, to write to him as soon as we arrived at head-quarters, and 
 though we were not there, I should write and say where we were.' He got 
 more excited than ever; perhaps he was afraid we should write letters for the 
 papers. Now this I had, at the request of the Committee, promised not to do 
 myself, and to express this their urgent desire and positive order to the other 
 ladies. I can safely say I never transgressed it, though I was offered a 
 handsome remuneration, neither did Louise. I have reason to believe it was 
 dist:)beyed by one of the party, but it was unknown and luisanctioned by me. 
 However this might be, to our writing the Secretary decidedly objected, and 
 went off suddenly without any letters from anyone in his charge. 
 
 As for the Feld-Post cards, they, at that time, only passed in the German 
 lines, and our English friends would not have been the wiser for any 
 information sent upon them. 1 tliink later in the war they did go to 
 England, but of this I am not sure; and before leaving the subject of posts I 
 may remark that the uncertainty of the Feld-Post made it a sort of lottery as 
 to whether any letters would ever reach. Sometimes they did, sometimes 
 not; but we never got a newspaper by it, though German papers came 
 safely to their destination. Had we got one now and then, we should have 
 thought that they were stopped on account of their contents; but as it was, I 
 
 * Prussian Army mail. Collectors now pay $100 or more for such a card. The first British postal 
 rate for cards - a halfpenny — was instituted on l" October 1870. 
 t A quantity (of letters).
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 37 
 
 fancy the weight of newspapers caused a general order to bring no foreign 
 ones, the letter carts for cross country work being light and small. After 
 breakfast we went to our duty. In the light of a sunny morning, Ste. Marie 
 looked sadder than ever, with its roofless houses, and the dirt and disorder 
 of its only street. There were heaps of shakos,* shoes, belts, tins, pots, 
 cartouchet boxes, pieces of bombshell, and, worst of all, rags, bandages, 
 and charpie thrown out of the windows, and bearing evidence of their 
 having been but lately used. 
 
 Not a woman or child was to be seen; a few were crouching in their 
 rviined houses, but not daring to venture out, and every sign of trade or 
 business had vanished. Even the conquering army had passed on, and only 
 a small guard of soldiers was quartered there. 
 
 I found one of my wounded soldiers dying, a young Bavarian, and all 
 he longed for was a little beer. How 1 had seen dozens of pale ale, 
 unpacked, in the Knights' quarters. I saw hampers of 'Bass' t in the 
 storehouses, addressed for the use of the sick and wounded, and I went 
 back directly to Mrs. Seeman, who officiated as store-keeper, and asked for 
 a bottle. I was told there was none. I said there was; I had seen it; but the 
 answer was it was for the use of the Knights. 1 begged in vain, and resolved 
 to wait the return of some one of them to ask for a little. 
 
 I went upstairs, and whilst there two entered tlie house, accompanied by 
 several German army surgeons, and, coming into the outer room of the loft, 
 requested me to open the stores, that they might select what they wanted, as 
 they were going back to the camp. 1 told them the stores were in charge of 
 the Surgeon. He was at his duties; they must return later. They declined to 
 go without the stores, and 1 sent for Mr. Parker, remaining myself on the 
 watch. When he came, they wanted almost everything; but, with great tact, 
 he contrived to get off by giving a quarter of what they wanted, and some of 
 the very instruments they took we saw, five months afterwards, unused, to 
 be taken home to Berlin, for service in their private practice there. Surely 
 Army surgeons (I call all Army surgeons who were serving with the troops) 
 should be supplied with instruments at the expense of their own 
 Government, not at the cost of private subscribers to a charitable fimd. 
 
 After they were courteously bowed off, the Surgeon and myself agreed 
 we would hide all the small and valuable things under the straw of our bed 
 in the inner room; we dragged in cases of valuable waterproof sheetings and 
 
 * A shako is a high-crowned military hat, generally with a plume. 
 
 t Cartridge. 
 
 t The red triangle on bottles of this pale ale was the first registered trademark in England.
 
 38 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 gutta-percha tissue, and buried quinine powders, boxes of oiled silk, and 
 various other articles in the sh-aw. I forgot to mention this to Louise, who 
 passed an uncomfortable night, and the next morning complained how 
 very "knobby" the straw was; she was prepared to find it prickly, but not 
 angular. 
 
 When we had finished hiding the valuable stores, I went down and 
 again begged for some beer. Frau Seeman refused to give me anything, 
 except a bottle of syrup to make some lemonade. With this I returned to 
 my hospital, but the poor fellow was disappointed at not obtaining what 
 he longed for. and in half an hour afterwards died. Tlie morning duty 
 being over, I returned back to quarters, and watched the Knights of St. 
 John packing up four or five waggons of stores, to be sent back to Pont-a- 
 Mousson,* then the central depot, and resolved that, if they had such a 
 superabundance, they should have none of ours. 
 
 After our early dinner Louise and I went our rounds to see that our 
 patients had their dinners, and then resolved to walk just down the street 
 and out of the \illage, where we could see over a great part of the battle- 
 field. We went through the garden at the back of the house and fouiid 
 ourselves at once upon it, for Ste. Marie had been in the centre of the fight. 
 For several miles the country all around was a barren level plain, on 
 which there grew no single blade of grass. It had been corn arid potato 
 fields, divided by low hedges, but now the ground was as hard and bare 
 as tlie Mall in Saint James's Park;t but, unlike that, not a tree, not a shrub. 
 Scattered over it were torn bits of clothing, helmets, swords, guns, tin 
 pots, knives, knapsacks, combs, brushes, bottles, and odds and ends of all 
 sorts here and there. Dark stains showed where some dead or wounded 
 man had fallen; in one place was a huge heap of shakos and belts, 
 guarded by a sentinel, and at intervals mounds of fresh earth showed 
 where the dead were buried. 
 
 Nothing could be more depressing than the view over this dry, dusty 
 plain, with a leaden sky lowering above and a chill wind whistling by. A 
 great number of letters, papers, leaves of books, and cards were strewed 
 about. I picked up some, and it was very sad to read the loving words 
 from home, and to think of the hopes all mouldering under those mounds 
 of earth. I will give an extract from one which contained no address, and 
 was simply signed 'Nathalie.' 
 
 The Knights were attached to each German army corps. They had their headquarters and a bam 
 full of stores at Ste. Marie, but their principal depot was at Pont-a-Mousson. 
 
 t The Mall did not take on its present appearance as the Processional Way to Buckingham Palace 
 until after the death of Queen Victoria.
 
 THE KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 39 
 
 'Chaire peti ami*... I thank thee that thou hast sent me thy portrait; 
 when I look at it, it seems as if I saw thee thyself. Alas, how happy 1 
 should be, if it would speak to me! Dear friend, I know it is impossible; 
 but after all I wager there will come a happy day when I shall see thee 
 thyself, and thou will never know how happy thy portrait made me. 
 Dear friend, thou askest was I grieved to see thee depart? I was, indeed, 
 though I did not say so, that I might not vex thy mother, who weeps for 
 thee every day. Charles has left. I gave him thy address; he will tell thee 
 all the news. Eugenie comes not to see me as often as she did. Thou 
 askest me why Stephen, who loves Honorine, does not marry her. I 
 know nothing; they do not tell me. She told him he did not go to see her 
 often enough; only upon a Sunday. Alas, dear friend, she is more greedy 
 than I, who should be happy if I saw thee every Sunday, or even once a 
 month. Thou askest me did I dance on the feast day of St. Eustache; no, I 
 did not dance. Thou must have been there; 1 had not spirit to dance and 
 thou not there with me. If I went there at all, it was becavise I thought 1 
 ought not to do wrong, and vex my father and mother. Nevertheless, I 
 did not know, dear friend, it would have displeased thee; but without 
 that, thou seest, it gave me no pleasure. Emile has the umbrella thou 
 didst leave in the little cottage... Paul sends his compliments, and 
 embraces thee with all his heart, so do my father and mother. As for thy 
 little friend, she too embraces thee with all her heart, praying thee not to 
 forget her who loves thee, and will love thee for ever. 
 'NATHALIE. 
 
 'P.S. — To-day is the first of the season for the chase. Thy brother has 
 killed one hare, and Louis Michelli tv\'o. 
 
 'August 29,1869.' 
 
 There were other letters written by the same loving hand, all dated the 
 same year, and now stained with blood, and trampled under foot in the mud, 
 lying close by a square of newly-turned earth, the grave of some twenty 
 French soldiers. Poor Nathalie; her letters were carried to the last battle-field 
 of her 'cher petit ami,' and the happy day never came when he went back to 
 dance with his true-hearted love at the feast of St. Eustache. Louise and I 
 wandered for a short time over this melancholy plain, and then returned by 
 the road, with the stumps of what had once been the poplar trees, which 
 border all those long, straight roads of France, on each side of us, and went to 
 our various duties, till it began to grow dusk, the wounded were dozing 
 away the weary hours, and we went back to our quarters. 
 
 * Qier petit ami: dear little firienA
 
 40 THE RESCUE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 After our return, and whilst standing over the kitchen fire, in hopes 
 of being requested to take a cup of the coffee which was boiling, we heard 
 a voice asking, in German, if the good people would boil some eggs for 
 him. The accent was most welcome to our ears — it was English — and 
 turning round I saw a gentleman in a white cap and an English grey 
 tweed coat. I instantly said, 'Are you not from England?' and the answer 
 was, 'Good gracious, are you the English column?' 'Yes,' I said; and 
 before I had time to explain he rushed into the street, shouting 'Here they 
 are!' Louise and I naturally rushed after him, and there, in the middle of 
 the dirty street, stood 'the General,' who commenced a series of the 
 profoundest bows, whilst our friend in the white cap, name then 
 unknown, expressed his delight at having found us. They had been sent 
 from Pont-a-Mousson to look for us, after the return of the messenger who 
 had gone to Remilly with the news that we had left, and no one knew 
 where we were. The said messenger, an English naval officer, had 
 accompanied the other two on the chase, and they had caught an aged 
 Knight of St. John to act as their escort, whose cross was a safe conduct 
 everywhere, and who wanted to get to Bar-le-Duc, and, being utterly 
 ignorant of geography, was being dragged about the country in the most 
 opposite direchons. 
 
 This elderly individual had retired to rest somewhere, his usual 
 employment, and our three friends were looking out for dinner and 
 shelter. We offered them such hospitality as we could. Mr. Parker begged 
 a loaf of bread; Louise and I procured some hot water. We produced the 
 cups of our flasks and our clasp knives, turned a box of stores on end, put 
 a candle into an empty wine bottle, and prepared for the gorgeous 
 banquet. Whilst I mixed Liebig with the water, Louise stormed the 
 kitchen fire, stole some coffee, and boiled the eggs they had brought, and 
 the gallant General, the naval officer, and the kind-hearted M.P.* in the 
 white cap assembled round the festive board, when the M.P. suddenly 
 
 * Member of Parliament
 
 THE RESCUE 41 
 
 remembered himself of two Swiss surgeons they had picked up on the 
 way, who had only been offered by the, housekeeper, Mrs. Seeman, some 
 soup, as they said, made of dirty water, and notliing else. A shout into the 
 street brought them up to join the party, and we passed round the cups 
 and one glass; they eat Liebig, and eggs, and bread, and enjoyed 
 themselves. Now both Louise and myself persisted in calling the General 
 'Mr. Henry,'* having been informed by the Secretary that it was necessary 
 to do so, as he was strictly incognito, he having property in France, which 
 would be forfeit were it known that he was with the German armies; but 
 hearing Mr. W — (the M.P.) and Mr. A — (the lieutenant) address him by 
 his name, we asked if it was really necessary to alter his army rank. He 
 laughed heartily and said, 'Yes,' and he was much obliged to us for 
 promoting him. The General told us that at the head-quarters they had 
 been uncomfortable about us, and Mr. A — had been despatched in search 
 of vis; that on his return they were requested to hunt us up, which they 
 had been doing in every village between Pont-a-Mousson and Ste. Marie, 
 and on every part of the battle-fields. 
 
 There was some political reason, it was believed, why the Secretary 
 carefully avoided head-quarters, and the General had been placed in 
 charge of us and the stores, and was to take us straight to the King. The 
 army was moving on to Chalons, and we must follow it directly. As for 
 property in France, he had not an acre. We were honestly delighted; not 
 that we wished to leave our work at Ste. Marie, but we had lost all 
 confidence in our leader, and Louise and myself much preferred being 
 under the command of an English officer with a name known and 
 honoured. No Belgravian saloon was more cheerful than the attic of the 
 Knights' house that afternoon. What did broken windows and medicine 
 chests for chairs matter? Turtle soup and salmon have been served up to 
 blase Londoners, and been less enjoyed than Liebig' s soup in cups or flasks 
 and slices of dry bread. Cigars were lighted, affairs medical and military 
 discussed, till darkness closed in, and we actually lighted a second candle, 
 and chatted on till supper-time. We then all adjourned together to the 
 other house 
 
 A judicious enumeration of the titles and orders of the General and a 
 description of the wonderful influence exercised over the British 
 Government by the illustrious senator induced Frau Seeman to increase 
 the quantity of bouillon, and even to add some cold bacon. The Admiral 
 (we promoted him too for the benefit of Frau Seeman) brought out two 
 
 The authors also referred to this "known and honoured" English officer as Sir H. H — . StJM
 
 42 THE RESCUE. 
 
 bottles oi wine, and we supped and sat over it so long that we were fairly 
 turned out bv Frau Seeman, whose very comfortable bed-room we w^ere 
 occupying; and as their ideas of bed-rooms and sitting-rooms seemed 
 somewhat confused, and the lady showed evident symptoms of taking off 
 her cap, we thought it better to adjourn at once, especially as only the 
 evening before, whilst sitting in the Knights' room, having been invited to 
 take a cup of tea with the Frau, we had been astounded by the apparition 
 of a Knight in a blanket, reminding me exactly of an illustration in an 
 edition of "Don Quixote,' whose pictures were the delight of my 
 childhood, and who coolly proceeded to get into bed, and request that a 
 cup, a large one. of the hottest tea might be immediately administered to 
 him, as he had been taking a bath, and feared to catch cold. Of course it 
 rained very heavily as we went back. Not a light was to be seen, and we 
 slipped about in the mud in a very imcomfortable way. 
 
 The Admiral and Mr. W — had found a room and a mattress. The 
 General shared Mr. Parker's heap of straw, and in spite of the assurance 
 of Frau Seeman that at half-past twelve precisely the French would 
 
 make a great sortie from Metz, taking Ste. Marie-aux-Chenes on their 
 way to somewhere, we retired to our own straw and a dreamless sleep. 
 Not a gun boomed from the lines of either army, there was neither dog 
 nor cat in the village to disturb us with their howls, the very mice were 
 starved out and had forsaken the garret, there was no excuse for lying 
 awake, and the sun shone in through the holes in the roof before we were 
 roused from our rest. After coffee the General walked with me to the 
 hospital, and said that he had decided on our leaving for Pont-a-Mousson 
 that day, so as to arrive in time for dinner; that he would require waggons 
 to convey us and the stores, under escort of the Surgeon, whilst he and his 
 friends went on to procure quarters for us. Dinner would be at seven 
 o'clock, they would meet us in the Grande Place, and show us our 
 lodgings. The King would be gone on, and we should have to follow him 
 till we overtook him; and he begged me to iiiform tlie other ladies that all 
 were to be ready at noon. 
 
 Fie went into the house with me, and took the kindest interest in the 
 poor fellows, especially the few French who were there. 'Wounded' is a 
 claim on the sympathy of everyone; but wounded and a prisoner is a 
 stionger one still; and so he felt it, as we did afterwards through many a 
 long, sad day. And what a contrast was his tall, upright figure, his clear eye 
 and firm step, to the poor crushed forms lying there. As he sh-ode across 
 the room, one Frenchman, looking at him with sad eyes of envy at that
 
 THE RESCUE 43 
 
 health and strength, said to me with a sigh, 'Monsieur marche fort;'* 
 adding, 'Shall I ever be able to go home, do you think?' The gift of a few 
 cigars brightened up many a pale face. He had served with the French 
 armies, he could talk to them of their regiments and their old officers, and 
 his presence was like a gleam of sunshine lighting up the weary hours. 
 
 After he left the hospital, I took leave of the poor fellows, and then went 
 to the church to summon the ladies there. It was also requisite to find the 
 Cure to administer the last sacraments to a dying man, and I hoped to meet 
 him, supposing Mass would not be over. I entered the church and found 
 the ladies, but no Cure. I asked if he had been there. Tliey said No; there 
 had been no service that morning. I was very much surprised, for that of 
 the morning before was a most touching sight. The cliurch was not very 
 large and had no aisles; the wounded were ranged on mattresses in a 
 double row down the sides, leaving the path up the centre clear, except for 
 two or three tables, on which were the necessaries of the surgeons and 
 nurses. The space within the Altar rails had been carefully kept free from 
 all intrusion, and Mass had been celebrated every morning at eight. 
 
 The greater part of the wounded were Catholics, and the rest lay quiet 
 and listened and looked with interest at the priest. The irreverence of the 
 Infirmiers, who were German, and the surgeons and their attendants, even at 
 the most holy moment of the service, could not destroy the solemn effect; 
 and when the priest raised the Host, in which the humble, uiidoubting faith 
 of the poor soldiers saw their uplifted Saviour present amongst them, and 
 turned painftilly on their blood-stained beds to worship and adore, it must 
 have been a cold and stony Protestant heart that did not feel how glorious 
 was the faith that could thus realise amidst such agony the Redeemer close at 
 hand, to forgive and bless and receive the freed spirit to a home where 'there 
 is no complaining and no leading into captivity in the streets.'! I regretted 
 the omission of the daily service, and having announced our departure for 
 noon precisely, I went to the Cure's house. I found him just returned from a 
 village about two miles off, where he had walked to celebrate his daily Mass. 
 I asked why he had gone so far with his own church close at hand, and the 
 answer was, 'Madame, I had not a drop of wine to consecrate.' 'Why did 
 you not go to the stores? 'I Madame, I did but they refused me. I asked only 
 for this little quantity (showing me a medicine phial), but they would not 
 give it me.' I thought of the half-dozen emptied bottles I had seen on the 
 Knights' dining table, and I did not envy the frame of mind that could thus 
 
 * "The gentleman is a strong walker." 
 f Psalm 144:14
 
 44 THE RESCUE. 
 
 depri\-e the suttorers of tlieir greatest and holiest consolation. The contents of 
 a couple of Hasks supplied immediate wants for a day or two, and I tried my 
 powers of persuasion on Frau Seeman for a bottle of even vin ordinaire; but I 
 shared the fate of the Cure, and retreated upstairs, metaphorically speaking, 
 shaking the dust off my feet as I went, and wondering what good the Knights 
 of St. John and their stores were to anybody or anything. 
 
 I found Louise and the surgeon packing up all the stores and nailing 
 tl-iem down, in expectation of a visit from a number of army surgeons, 
 coming to get all they could, not for Ambulance, but regimental use. A 
 sudden exclamation of Louise's from the inner room showed she had 
 discovered the reason of the angular points and hard knobs in the straw, 
 from out of which she was digging all sorts of small boxes and packages, 
 finishing by the discovery of a roll of waterproof sheeting, fifty yards long, 
 under her pillow, and acting as a bolster, upon which she remarked, in a 
 reproachful tone, 'Now, how could we be expected to sleep with a roll like 
 that under one's head?' to which there was one unanswerable rejoinder: 
 'But we did!' A clatter of swords and spurs up the ricketty stairs 
 announced the arrival of the German surgeons, and in they came. From 
 all the villages, from the camp, every brigade had sent by deputation for 
 everything there was and was not, and at that very time three waggons 
 were taking away stores belonging to the Knights back to Pont-a- 
 Mousson, they evidently expecting ours would remain. With tlie greatest 
 good temper, under great provocation, Mr. Parker treated the demands as 
 impossible to grant in their full extent, decliiiing to re-open boxes in the 
 absence of the General, and giving as little as possible, knowing how very 
 far the use that would be made of them would differ from that intended 
 by those who had so nobly subscribed their money, not to supplement the 
 military chest of the German army, but to help where help was really 
 wanted. 
 
 It is to be hoped that, warned by the past, in any future National effort of 
 this sort, the subscribers will insist on having some voice in the distribution 
 of their money and goods, and not leave all blindly to the caprice and 
 personal feelings of any small executive Committee with irresponsible 
 power, however well adapted individuals may be for the office of control 
 over hundreds of thousands of poimds sterling. Our stores were worth about 
 500/., and many were most expensive and comparatively useless. Had they 
 been selected by an army surgeon accustomed to the rough work of field 
 Ambulances, he would never have chosen costly articles only fit for a 
 London or Paris hospital, and many things vvl-dch were sent were utterly
 
 THE RESCUE 45 
 
 useless; for instance, the spongio piline and the oiled silk;* gutta percha 
 tissue, at a third of the price, answering the same purpose, while the spongio 
 piline only served to line splints, for which towt was equally good. But the 
 frightful waste of money will be more clearly seen as we go on. 
 
 This affair being settled, the Surgeon went off to an operation and 
 Louise to her stables, leaving me with strict injunctions not to leave the 
 garret, nor to part with a single article, in case of further demands being 
 made. I finished putting up my little baggages, and was leaning out of the 
 window, looking into the street, wondering where our waggons were, 
 when I heard steps behind me, and, tT.irning sharply, saw two Knights of 
 St. John entering the inner room. I called out, but they did not hear me, 
 and, going in after them, I found them trying to read the label on a case of 
 gutta percha tissue. 1 said it was the ladies' bedroom, and begged them to 
 come out. The senior then said that he understood we were going, but of 
 course our stores would be left for their use. I said No! certainly not; the 
 stores would go with us. Such were the General's orders, and we should 
 report ourselves to Prince Pless. They muttered and grumbled all in vain. 
 I persisted, and finding it was no use, they departed. 
 
 I was very glad, however, to see the waggons drawn up on the other side 
 of the road. They had been obtained by requisition, and, as this word will 
 often have to be used, it may be as weU here to explain what it really means. In 
 most cases licensed robbery. Everything in the shape of horses, waggons, 
 drivers, provisions, fuel, and bedding, the communel: or parish is bound to 
 furnish at their own cost on warrants signed by any German official; the cost to 
 be repaid by the Mairie, or, as we might say, corporation of the place, after the 
 war. Carriages, waggons, and horses, however, are invariably seized for the 
 conveyance of military stores and the convenience of the officers of the 
 invading army, and no money will procure them; but a warrant from the 
 official in charge of the train service to some other official in possession of the 
 desired vehicles generally has the right effect. The carriages aiid horses rarely, 
 if ever, come back to their owners; the waggons and their drivers are taken 
 from the farms to wander in the track of the army, receiving only scanty food 
 and forage; but, after all, it is the requisitions in large towns which offer such a 
 sure means of getting anything required and paying nothing for it. The 
 working of this system, however, wiU be better seen when we relate our 
 
 * Silk rendered waterproof by saturation with boiled oil. 
 
 t The short fibres fi-om flax, hemp, or jute that would have been available in the form of lamp 
 wicks or tow-cloth, a coarse fabric used in Axnerica for slaves' clothing. 
 
 ? France's smallest administrative unit, governed by a mayor and municipal assembly.
 
 46 THE RESCUE. 
 
 residence in Orleans. Yet even this taking of waggons and horses shows what 
 the misery of an invaded country is, for it must be remembered that not only 
 the invaders but the defenders must avail themselves of every mode of 
 transport for troops and munitions of war, and the seat of war is often as 
 unhappv under one as tine otlier. Think, too, of the entire stand-still of all 
 farming operations — no ploughing, and coiisequently no sowing, no carrying 
 the produce to the nearest market, no commimication between town and 
 village, no means of going to see friends or transact the commonest business 
 fifteen or h\'entv miles off, and the railways either unused or taken up solely 
 for the military mo\-ements. Tlie loneliness of the roads, the hush of all the 
 noises caused by the daily occupatioiis of village life, tlie com left ungamered 
 and rotting in shocks on the fields, some reaped and lying where it fell, the 
 absence of all men except the very old and the very young, mark what are the 
 hourlv deprixations of war, not to speak of the terrible scenes which the 
 neighbourhtxxi of a battle or tlie passing of a great army brings about. We 
 fully intended to send back our waggons; but as the drivers afterwards took it 
 into their own hands and escaped we are certainly not responsible for their 
 fate, whatever it might be. 
 
 Louise soon returned, followed by Mr. Parker and one of the Swiss 
 surgeons, and we were nailing up the last of the chests when the door 
 suddenly opened and in came the Secretary, breathless with haste, and in 
 an evident state of excitement. We stared with astonishment, he having 
 told us he was off direct to England. He began by saying he had been to 
 Ars-sur-Moselle, and brought us lanterns, blankets, tea, sugar, and bread. 
 We assured him that we regretted he had taken the trouble, as we were off 
 to Pont-a-Mousson. His anger was excessive. He disputed the right of the 
 General to give us orders, and Louise and I declared, however that might 
 be, we would not be under his orders again. We had been told before we 
 left England by Colonel Loyd Lindsay to report ourselves to Prince Pless 
 at the King's head-quarters; this we should certainly do, and end the 
 uncertainty, and it was simply to the head-quarters that the General was 
 about to take us. He then said of course we left the stores behind us, and 
 to this we replied that the orders of the General were imperative — the 
 stores were to go with us, not another article was to be given at Ste. Marie, 
 and we declined to accept any orders from him, now or at any future time, 
 and for so doing we would be answerable to the Committee at home. He 
 grew so angry that the Surgeon took him out into the street to try and cool 
 him down, and here he commenced giving away a quantity of cigars he 
 had brought with him in a light waggon to all the soldiers standing about.
 
 THE RESCUE 47 
 
 A German officer interfered, said there were plenty of cigars in store 
 there, and he had better take them back with him. On this a most violent 
 scene ensued. Now, he had in hand 200/. of the committee's money, and 
 with some of this he had bought the various stores he brought up, and 
 which he afterwards gave away recklessly on the journey to Pont-a- 
 Mousson. In reckless giving, however, he was not worse than many 
 others, and it was often a source of bitter regret to us, when we thought of 
 the hardly earned shilling of the workman, and tlie widow's mite, and the 
 school children's pennies that had gone with the princely donations of the 
 wealthy to make up the enormous sum that has made England famous for 
 ill-regulated charity through the length and breadth of Europe. 
 
 We were very sorry tliat no one gave a helping hand to Mr. Parker. 
 He and the Swiss had to move down every box, and lift them into the 
 waggons, whilst the Knights of St. John and their orderlies stood and 
 looked on. Determination, however, carried the day; but, in consequence 
 of all these delays, it was one o'clock before we started. We were not 
 offered any dinner before we left, but we were now anxious to get fairly 
 off. The work at Ste. Marie was so far done that things had been got into 
 order, the wounded were being rapidly evacuated by death or removal,* 
 and it was evident that in a couple of days more only those cases would 
 be left which would probably have to remain there weeks, whilst the 
 imminence of fresh battles rendered it necessary for us to push forward to 
 our original destination. The Secretary, having no further business in Ste. 
 Marie, accompanied us in his waggon, and with three others of our own 
 we left Ste. Marie and the Knights of Ste. John, turned up a little lane 
 which led from the main street to the back of the village, and emerged on 
 the battle-field, which lay between Ste. Marie and Gorst, on the road 
 through Vionville and Ars-sur-Moselle, and past Cormy to Pont-a- 
 Mousson. 
 
 ' The evacuation was ordered because a sortie from Metz was anticipated. — SUM.
 
 48 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BURNING OF THE RED-CROSS BANNER. 
 
 Our cortege made its way slowly up the muddy lane and came out on 
 the wide open bend of the battle-field. It was a huge plateau, the distance 
 bounded by low woods, and as the afternoon sunshine came out bright 
 and clear it looked sadder, than ever. Our road crossed it, and we were 
 very glad when it took a slight dip and brought us to the entrance of St. 
 Privat, a ruined \illage, and up to the door of a house of the better class, 
 occupied as an Ambulance and also as quarters for soldiers, many of 
 whom were lounging about, idle and dirty. We halted, and the Secretary, 
 calling to some Germans to assist him, commenced a distribution of 
 goods, principally those which he had brought with him; but one box of 
 English stores was so hastily broken open that next day the Swiss surgeon 
 brought to me half-a-dozen valuable lancets and knives which he had 
 found in the straw of the waggon. How many were lost on the way no 
 one could tell. The bread was given to the soldiers, who, as the Secretary 
 said, had not very large rations and must be hungry; probably they were. 
 The German soldiery have an immense capacity for eating, but the poor 
 miserable peasants who came around, and begged even for tlie broken 
 bits of biscuit we had, were rather more hungry still; but the argument 
 used then and afterwards, when good port wine sent from England was 
 given to the troops, was, some might think, unanswerable: 'Poor fellows! 
 they have hard work before them, and require strength.' 
 
 It seemed ages before we moved on. The Secretary was evidently in no 
 hurry to get to Pont-a-Mousson. At last I ordered our driver to push on, 
 and he had to follow; we came out again on the wide, barren plain, and we 
 overlooked a valley in wliich stood a large village, Gorst, we were told; but 
 just where the road descended, yet still on the bend, was a lonely building. 
 It looked as if it had been a barrack, and was surrounded by a wall 
 enclosing the yard, which extended about fifty yards in width, between the 
 building and the wall. It was a mere shed, the roof had fallen in, and the 
 iron rails of the staircase hung, broken and twisted, from the side wall of 
 the top storey. It had evidently been burned, how we knew not, and the 
 intention was evidently to hurry past it; but the Swiss surgeon and our 
 English friend stopped the waggons and begged us to get out and see the
 
 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 49 
 
 rmn, and as a waggon behind broke down at this instant and had to be 
 repacked, the Secretary had no excuse for urging us forward. 
 
 We entered within the ruined enclosure. A fearful smell met us; it was 
 the first time we had ever experienced it. We knew it afterwards too well at 
 Bazeilles. And what were we walking upon? Not cinders; the charred 
 morsels were too soft for that? We turned sick with horror; human beings 
 had perished here by fire. We went out directly, and saw the blackened 
 skeletons of horses and pigs in the stables. Why, with the open country all 
 around, had no effort at escape been made, and what were the charred 
 morsels of wood, like the remains of a flagstaff, that had crushed in with the 
 roof, and those remains of iron bedsteads? Standing in the court-yard, we 
 heard the story. From that flagstaff the Red-Cross flag had floated. It was a 
 deserted barrack, occupied as an Ambulance on flie evening of the battle, 
 and in it were three hundred French, wotmded. The Germans passed on, 
 Gorst was occupied, and two or three days after the battle they commenced 
 firing on the barrack. They saw the flag, but persisted that it was occupied 
 by soldiers. It caught fire, and as the wretched occupants, those who could 
 rise from their beds at least, tried to escape, they were met by a fire of 
 musketry, and all perished together; and there was the ruined, roofless 
 barrack, standing alone, its blackened outlines, cut clear against the blue sky, 
 sad witiiesses of a sad event. It was a miserable mistake is the only excuse; 
 but the flag should, at all events, have induced some enquiry, before cannon 
 and rifle did their murderous work on those sheltered under it. 
 
 Saddened and oppressed by such a fearful scene, we remotmted our 
 waggon and drove on. Gorst was as dreary and deserted as all the other 
 villages. A few scared women appeared, and one or two old men. We asked 
 for a litfle water, and a woman ran for a glass and got us some from a pump 
 close by. She seemed half-frightened, but our assurance that we were not 
 Prussians encouraged her, and she told us all the boys and men in the village 
 were gone to the war, and there was nothing left to eat. Tliey had not even 
 bread; all had been taken from them, even ihe potatoes in their litfle patches 
 of garden, and their clothes, such as were useless being cut to pieces before 
 their eyes. But revenge would come some day. From first to last that was the 
 cry; and it will come, if not in our day, in that of the children who from 
 childhood are being trained all over France for the great day of triimiph — 
 the entry into Berlin. It may be a dream, but it is a widespread one, and those 
 who live to a good old age may see if it is realised or not. 
 
 After an hour or so we entered Vionville, a very pretty place, with a 
 wide central street, and here we came to another stop. The Secretary ran off 
 after sundry friends, and, whilst we were waiting, an English gentieman
 
 30 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 
 
 with a knapsack on his back came up and iiih-oduced himself as Mr. 
 Herbert of the British Society. I told him our troubles with the Secretary. 
 Nothing could be more kind and considerate than he was, and he begged 
 us to write to him, giving us an address, and he would come to our help at 
 any time. He was on a walking tour round the battle-field and the villages. 
 I am sure he must ha\'e seen the greatest misery and distress, and if he 
 knew as well as we did of the large stores of the knights at Ste. Marie, he 
 must have wondered why they did not ride round the neighbourhood and 
 afford relief to the Ambulances where the wounded were starving, and to 
 the peasantry who were also dying of himger. The peasantry were French, 
 and the knights never professed to relieve them; but the Ambulances were, 
 to say the least of it, neutral, and ihe sick and wounded have no nationality. 
 And why, with all this pressure of want, stores were sent back to the huge 
 central depot at Pont-a-Mousson, no one could tell. It was, perhaps, the 
 utter ignorance of the Kiiights as to its existence. We can safely say they 
 never entered an Ambulance at Ste. Marie, never rode out to enquire into 
 the condition of tliose established not two miles from that place, and what 
 they did, or why they were there at all, is beyond comprehension. They ate 
 and drank the best of everything, they occupied the best houses as quarters, 
 and enjoyed a perpetual pic-nic safely out of danger, but sufficiently near to 
 say they had gone through a campaign. They were indeed carpet knights,* 
 and have their spurs yet to win. 
 
 We got tired of waiting, sitting, as we were, in an August sun, and 
 when the Secretary brought a gentleman, whom he introduced as Mr. 
 Appiat of the Geneva Society, I told him plainly we were being detained 
 here, I knew not why, and it would be dark before we got to Pont-a- 
 Mousson, and did he not think he had better move on. He said most 
 assuredly, and instantly asked the Secretary to go on, and we started, 
 having been one hour in the main street of Vionville; and here more stores 
 were given to the soldiers, some bacon, I particularly remember, for a 
 piece was reserved, which we were told was for our diniier. We got fairly 
 out of Vionville at last, and as far as some trees; here we came to another 
 halt, and the Swiss surgeon came up and told me the Secretary was 
 proposing to light fires and cook the bacon, and have a kind of gipsy 
 
 * Civilians who, not earning knighthood in the field of combat, are dubbed as they kneel on a carpet, 
 t Dr. Louis Appia (1818-1898). A founding member of the International Committee of the Red 
 Cross, he was the first to suggest that aU volunteers in war zones should wear white armbands. He 
 wrote ne Ambulance Surgeon; or. Practical observations on gunshot Hounds. Edinburgh 1862 
 and ccvauthored Help for Sick and Wounded. London. 1870. See Roger Boppe's L'Homme et la 
 guerre. Le docteur Louis Appia et les debuts de la Croix-Rouge. Paris, 1959.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 51 
 
 party, and he was very uneasy. He had promised the General to see us 
 safe to Pont-a-Mousson by seven o'clock, and really, if we were to light 
 fires and cook bacon, we should not be there before midnight. 
 
 We remonstrated violently agaiiist this new detention, and the idea was 
 given up. The bacon was served round raw with a slice of bread, and we 
 were so himgry we ate it, aiid haviiig very soon finished, we insisted on 
 going on. The surgeons mounted the first waggon, and by dint of keeping up 
 its boy driver to his work we jogged along faster. Our driver was a stupid- 
 looking peasant, speaking only German, and his horses were harnessed with 
 the loosest traces that ever were seen, which had at intervals to be 
 disentaiigled. He looked like an utter idiot, and for such we took him. It 
 wotdd have been better for liim had he been only an idiot, as we shall see. 
 
 After leaving Vionville, we descended from what may be called the 
 upper level by a most lovely gorge, the sides clothed with rich foliage 
 down to the little stream which runs through it. We came across many a 
 beautiful bit of scenery in these parts, so rarely visited by travellers, no 
 railroad being within several miles, and we came to tlie decided 
 conclusion that a waggon is the only way of travelling by which you really 
 see the country. There is a remark in 'Eothen't that we Europeans do not 
 understand the true enjoyment of travelling. We go from place to place, 
 that is all. We foimd the truth of the idea. We lived our day as if this quiet 
 state of passing over the ground was our normal condition, arriving at a 
 decided resting-place, a break in our usual course of life, and we saw 
 more of the country and the people than years of railroad travelling 
 would have enabled us to do. 
 
 We gradually descended to Ars-sur-Moselle, and once more saw the 
 Roman aqueduct. We had passed through it on our way to Ste. Marie, but 
 had missed the beauties of the gorge in the darkness of the night, and after 
 leaving it must have lost our way, for we certainly did not go through 
 Vionville. The long, narrow street was crowded with troops; a Red-Cross 
 flag hung from almost every house. 
 
 The shops were all open and a brisk trade was going on, but more in 
 what are called fancy articles than food or clothing. There was but little of 
 those to be seen. We drove through the town, and after another hour or so 
 found ourselves by the bridge of Cormy. We did not cross it or enter the 
 town, but went steadily on. It was quite dark when we reached Pont-a- 
 Mousson at half-past nine instead of seven. 
 
 t Eothen: or traces of travel brought home from the East published anonymously in 1 844 by 
 Alexander William Kinglake (1809-1891). Its tone is like Sterne's SentimentalJoumey.
 
 52 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 
 
 We halted in a large square, surrounded by arcades like Bologna, and 
 were very glad to hear English voices calling to us. There were our 
 friends. Of course they had finished dinner, and it was so late that we 
 were glad to go to the quarters they had found us. The ladies all occupied 
 a third-storey room in the second best hotel. The little salle-a-manger* 
 was crowded with soldiers smoking and drinking, and it was impossible 
 to sup there. The good people of the house declared it was impossible to 
 serve us upstairs, but I caught a small boy, who was running about with 
 clay pipes for the Germans, and the offer of a franc enlisted him. We got 
 some knives and forks, plates and glasses, and I went into the kitchen and 
 saw a pair of chickens in the oven. They were for the German officers' 
 supper, but a little private arrangement transferred them to my share, and 
 my aide-de-camp mounted the stairs in triumph with our spoils. What a 
 supper we made! We really had had so little since we left Brussels, that 
 even the moderate quantity we eat was more than we could well bear. 
 Our gentlemen had gone to quarters somewhere else, and the General told 
 us he would let us know before noon if we started for head-quarters that 
 day; he must first ascertain where they were, or not 
 
 Our waggons were left in the centre of the 'Grande Place,' under a 
 Prussian guard. I had proposed bringing in, besides our little baggages, 
 the one small portmanteau we each of us possessed, and Louise quite 
 agreed it would be safer. However, the General declared that no one 
 could run off with the things with two senhnels watching the waggons, 
 and we bowed to his superior judgment, particularly as he had a very 
 valuable tin box there 1-iimself. The hotel seemed dirtier than ever when 
 we went down next day. It probably was, in times of peace, a very fair 
 one; but what could be expected with every room full of soldiers. Many of 
 them brought in their own rations and cooked them themselves over the 
 kitchen fire. The officers required suppers up to two in the morning, and 
 there was no refusing the imperious conquerors. A blow with the 
 sheathed sword, or the smashing all the glass in the room, would have 
 been the mildest form of punishment. There was no help, and no redress, 
 and no pay. The poor people told us their sorrows, and gave us coffee. 
 The Red-Cross badge was too often the pretext for demanding lodging 
 and food by requisition, but we always gave it clearly to be understood 
 we came to help and not to oppress, and that we should pay honestly, as 
 in peace time, for what we had. 
 
 After coffee we went out. I remarked to Louise how insecure two of 
 the portmanteaus were, the General's box and the leather trunk of one of 
 
 Dining room.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 53 
 
 our ladies. Louise pointed out that her trunk was fastened by a chain, and 
 mine buried under a heavy chest that required two men to move, but she 
 thought we had better tell the others. We went back to do so, but they 
 were out, and we waited a little while in the salle-a-manger. The Swiss 
 surgeon came up to the window, and handed in the instruments he had 
 found scattered in the straw. He had had his orders to go direct to Nancy, 
 and with much regret we took leave of him and his friend. They told us of 
 some very good hot baths, and we went to them. They were far superior 
 to any I ever had in England, and we only paid a franc for each, including 
 a plentiful supply of hot towels and a special room, which, we were 
 assured, no 'dirty German officers' had ever used. 
 
 On our return we passed the waggons. The two trunks were gone! 
 We instantly gave the alarm. The General came up, and a search was 
 commenced. Mr. W — declared directly he distrusted the driver (our 
 supposed idiot), for he had found him selling the forage given out for the 
 horses, and Mr. A — said he had always disliked the downcast look of his 
 face, whilst Louise and I persisted we had always thought him more 
 knave than fool. All these complimentary opinions, however, did not find 
 the lost baggage, and the only thing to be done was to replace, as far as 
 possible, the contents of the portmanteau of our lady companion. I told 
 the Secretary that clearly the Society ought to pay the damage. Had the 
 baggage been brought in, as we requested, this would not have happened. 
 I begged her to make an esHmate of the value. She made one, far too 
 moderate, not even valuing the things at a fair price. Part of the sum 
 claimed the Secretary paid, saying he could spare no more. I trust the rest 
 may be paid. When I named it to the Committee they hesitated. With all 
 the thousands they flung recklessly away they need not have scrupled at 
 giving a five-pound note to replace necessary clothing, lost on actual 
 service by one who was certainly a most active, faithful, and unpaid 
 servant. The General gave notice to the German authorities. His box 
 contained his uniform, and was therefore very valuable, and also his 
 medals. The driver was instantly arrested, and the Provost-Marshal 
 offered to shoot him then and there; but it was considered advisable to try 
 and screw the truth out of him. Either he had not taken the things, or was 
 not alarmed at the Provost Marshal's threat, for he confessed nothing. 
 
 The day passed on, and no orders were given. Finally, we were told 
 to be ready at six A.M. precisely the next morning, and a fresh waggon was 
 found to replace that of the driver, consigned to prison for further 
 examination. We walked a little about the town. It was very dull, the 
 shops mostly shut, and, like all towns occupied by troops during war.
 
 54 THE BURNING OF THE RED CROSS BANNER. 
 
 very dirtv; the central square littered with straw, broken bottles, and all 
 the debris of a bivouac. German troopers have a peculiar habit of riding 
 on the footpaths and pavements,* and it does not add to the cleanliness of 
 a place, and is peculiarly inconvenient. Probably they do not do it in 
 Berlin, and it reminds one of the arrangements in Damascus before the 
 massacres of 1860, when the terrible punishment inflicted on the 
 Mussulmanst compelled them to change their insolent order, that no 
 Christians should walk on the side-paths, but run their risks in the midst 
 of the confusion of an Oriental street. Did the Prussian generals take a 
 hint from this, and try to force the unhappy people of the occupied cities 
 into the dirt and danger of tlieir own streets? It really seems so. I have 
 often wondered, if the French had invaded Germany, would they have 
 been as arrogant and contemptuous and unfeeling as the German soldiery. 
 Would they have for gotten as completely that their turn might come 
 some day, and as they had sowed so they should reap? Perhaps so. 
 Military success is a hard trial of character. Few pass it unscathed, and the 
 hardheartedness it engenders is only one of the many forms of the 
 demoralisation which are the result of even one campaign. 
 
 We were glad to shut ourselves up in our own room, from which, 
 later in the evening, we descended to the salle-a-manger, and finding a 
 small table, we took possession of it. Amidst all the noise and smoke we 
 were rejoiced to find that the soldiers had not yet come into dinner, and 
 the room was filled with Frenchmen, whose kindness and courtesy made 
 us quite at home. Dinner was a difficulty. Some German officers were 
 dining in a small room which opened off ours, and demanding everything 
 there was to eat and the attenhon of every waiter. My pipe boy of the 
 night before gave us a hint what to do, and the next dish that he brought 
 past us I quietly took out of his hand, and so on till we had got enough, 
 and the officers dare not storm at us; but we very soon adjourned upstairs, 
 resolved to have a good and long night's rest before our march of the 
 ensuing day. 
 
 The word means 'a hard smooth surface, especiall\ of a public area or thoroughfare, that will 
 bear travel." The British restricted its appUcation io pedestrian travel when paved sidewalks were 
 introduced about 1700. 
 
 t Muslims, from the Turkish "musulmn." To squelch independence movements, the Ottomans 
 encouraged Maronite Christians and Druze to hate one another. In 1860 the Druze massacred 
 10.000 Maronites. When the Ottomans did nothing, the French intervened on behalf of the 
 Maronites, and a Chnstian governor was installed.
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 
 
 It was a bright, sunshiny morning when, on the 27th of August, we all 
 assembled booted and spurred at 6 A.M., ready to start on our first day's 
 pilgrimage in chase of the King's head-quarters. The aged Knight of St. 
 John, it seems, had declared that it was too dangerous for the ladies to go 
 on further, and tliat the stores had far better be left at the depot of the 
 Knights of St. John. It was not wise to contradict the venerable Baron H — . 
 So he was implored to go to bed and to sleep, and the General, knowing 
 his usual habits, arranged that ourselves and the baggage were to start at 
 an early hour, the greatest care being taken not to awaken the Baron, and 
 when later in the day Mr. W — 's light carriage, which conveyed the 
 General, Mr. A — , and Baron H — , should overtake us several leagues 
 away from Pont-a-Mousson, it would be too late for the Knight to object. 
 Fortimately his morning sleep was a prolonged one, for several delays 
 occurred. The gentlemen were obliged to go to the Provost-Marshal and 
 give evidence as regarded the robbery, and evidently the Provost-Marshal 
 had not had his breakfast and begun his daily official career, for we had 
 the pleasure of sitting waiting in the waggon and watching our friends 
 sunning themselves in the balcony of the Provost's house for at least an 
 hour. The lost baggage was not discovered, I believe it never was; but I 
 suppose that ultimately the driver was convicted of being the thief, as we 
 heard afterwards that a few days after we left he was shot. 
 
 At last we started and went slowly on over very pretty country, a 
 splendid Route Imperiale,* and not a trace of war to be seen anywhere. 
 We read, and worked, and chatted, admired the view, wondered where 
 we should sleep at night, and met with no adventures of any sort. We 
 passed through one small village, and just beyond it a peasant boy 
 overtook us, and told us that over that very road, not many days before. 
 Napoleon III and his son had ridden, on their way back from Saarbruck, 
 and the great French army had turned off to the right, pointing to a road 
 which diverged and crossed the plain in a lower level than the one we 
 were on. We asked him how it happened that at his age, eighteen or 
 
 One of France's principal roads, now called routes nationales.
 
 56 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 
 
 nineteen, he had not been summoned to join the army, and he answered, 
 with a bright smile coming all over his face, 'Tlie luck I had, madam {la 
 bonne chancey. I was drawn in the conscription.* Ah! see now, what for! to 
 be shot dead, or wounded, or prisoner. Only a few days were left me, but 
 the Prussians came; they ordered, on pain of death, no one should leave 
 the village who was of age to fight. Did 1 wish to go? No, madam; a 
 thousand times no. I said a very good day (bien bon jour), and thank you. I 
 shall stay with the plough and the cows and sheep, and here I am, two 
 arms and two legs and my head on my shoulders, and the rest of the boys 
 may fight if they like. What matters it to me? King or emperor, it is all 
 one to Baptiste. Thank you. madame, good luck to you (this in return for 
 two ten centime pieces); you go to nurse the wounded. Ah! I will never 
 trouble you; a very good day.' And off went our heroic friend, his dog at 
 his heels, whistling some gay French airs. Quietly and steadily we drove 
 on, and at last we came where two roads parted; one turning to the right, 
 round a rising hill, was evidently our onward way, the other wound up 
 the hill to a village on the height. 
 
 Just at this time we saw the carriage of our friends rapidly coming up 
 the long straight road behind us, the Baron still sleeping. They told us to 
 take the road up the hill. It was three o'clock, and we could lunch at the 
 little auberge, and up it accordingly we went. We found that the village 
 was called Gironville, and its situation was certainly lovely. It stands on 
 the wooded height, which seems suddenly to block the road, overlooking 
 an expanse of cultivated country, with here and there a distant group of 
 white houses and a church tower to mark the scattered villages. The 
 church of Gironville and the graveyard round it rose directly behind the 
 little street of the village, and was approached by rough stone steps placed 
 on the hill-side. The inn itself was rude enough, but very clean, and with 
 an abundance of eggs and butter which was astounding under the 
 circumstances; but the merry old landlady explained it by telling us the 
 village stood off the main road, the great armies marched past down 
 below, and had no time to stop and mount the steep road to the village. 
 Besides, it was too poor a place to tempt even the Uhlanst to hirn aside to 
 make requisitions. The arrival of so large a party as ours utterly broke 
 down the good old dame's resources, and Louise and the General took 
 possession of the great kitchen fire, and cooked eggs and bacon, while Mr. 
 W— and myself found plates, and knives, and glasses in corner 
 
 * Conscription began in France towards the end of the Revolution, hi 1815 conscription ended 
 but was remstituted a few years later on a lottery system. 
 
 t German cavalrymen (lancers) chiefly employed in reconnoitring, skirmishing, and outpost duty.
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. "ol 
 
 cupboards, and the Baron discovered a large, cold, brick floored room, not 
 invaded by the peasantry, which he considered more adapted to our 
 dignity, and where he insisted on our lunching. I am sorry to say that we 
 should all have preferred the kitchen, for it was not a very warm day, and 
 the fire was very pleasant; besides, eggs and bacon are much better 
 transferred instantly from the frying-pan to the table. However, not 
 choosing to leave our escort to lunch by himself in solitary grandeur, we 
 submitted, and the result was a series of fatiguing journeys to fetch fresh 
 supplies. 
 
 After lunch Louise and I wandered up to the little church. It was 
 closed, a very unusual thing in France, but a woman came to open it. It 
 had no architectural beauties, and was very old and simple. Returning to 
 the inn, we saw a little crowd in the street; conspicuous in it were a fat 
 baker in his white apron and our friend the Admiral, who was delivering 
 a lecture on the politics of France to the admiring villagers. Whenever he 
 was missing, his tall form and merry Saxon face were sure to be descried 
 in some such a situation, and the natives listened and looked in wonder at 
 his size and his eloquence. It was just five when, as he would have said, 
 we got under weigh once more, and we humbly suggested 'where were 
 we going?' 'To the camp near Chalons,' was the answer, 'by way of 
 Commercy. Before we overtook you, we were afraid you might have 
 turned off to the left, and gone by way of St. Dizier, which you would 
 have found occupied by the French.' As we never had the slightest 
 intention of going anywhere except slowly along the straight road till 
 our friends came up, they need not have alarmed themselves on that 
 account. 
 
 The General urged on the drivers, the horses actually broke into a trot, 
 and in an hour we entered Commercy. Going a trot in the waggons is not 
 a pleasant process; the store chests bumped about, and we were 
 considerably shaken. Those vehicles are never designed to go beyond a 
 dignified walk. In the light and brightness of an August afternoon 
 Commercy looked a very pretty town, with no edifice of any peculiar size 
 or beauty in it, except an old chateau, modernised into a barrack, and a 
 very comfortable inn. The German army had passed quietly through it, 
 leaving only about thirty troopers in the place, which, though containing 
 some 4,000 inhabitants, was not of sufficient importance to require a 
 garrison, and so escaped the scourge of a military occupation and the 
 heavy requisitions which accompany it. At tliis time the Germans had not 
 committed the excesses they afterwards did when success had blinded 
 them to all considerations, except that they were victors living amongst
 
 58 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 
 
 the vanquished, where might makes right, and much was done that 
 caused even their own officers to say, 'This is not war; it is pillage.' So 
 Commercy looked even cheerful in the evening sunlight. 
 
 When next morning we descended early to breakfast, Louise and 
 mvself strolled into the kitchen. We always found amusement and 
 information in chatting with the people, and heard and saw many things 
 that otherwise would ha\e escaped us. One thing that morning surprised 
 us, the enormous quantity of butter. Certainly the fair and fertile plains in 
 the neighbourhood were admirably suited for pasturage, but we had seen 
 so little of late that it was a novelty to us. It was neatly made into half 
 kilogrammes, about an English pound, and wrapped up in cool green 
 leaves. It had e\'idently been brought in from the neighbouring farms, and 
 was sufficient evidence that the invaders had spared the cows at all 
 events. We assembled round the fire, and listened to the tales of the 
 passing of the two grand armies. 
 
 At last we were properly packed into our waggons, and provided 
 with pillows of hay, Louise and myself voyaging together. Again a lovely 
 day, and no signs of war and devastahon on the coimtry we passed 
 through. About noon we arrived at a small village called Ligny, and 
 halted for lunch. We had, besides the Knight and his cross, a bodyguard 
 of two Prussian soldiers, who, as it turned out, were solely and wholly for 
 the safety and protection of the said Knight. At Ligny these soldiers and 
 our drivers entered a barn in which was a good deal of hay, and not only 
 took enough for their horses at the time, but laid in a stock sufficient for 
 several days, and also in so doing quite spoiled our comfortable couch in 
 the waggon, by piling it up too high. This afforded us a good opporhmity 
 of indignantly tossing it out, and thereby pacifying the unforhmate 
 farmer, who justly remonstrated that he was bound, he knew, to furnish 
 the forage for one meal, but not to supply it for two or three days. The 
 Prussian soldiers would listen to nothing; but we made our coachmen 
 disgorge their surplus hay. 
 
 At this time, though we were about to leave, the Admiral was 
 missing, nor did we see the usual crowd. He emerged in triumph from 
 somewhere with hvo geese and a rabbit, which he declared he had 
 stolen, and on being remonsfrated with on the style of his proceedings, 
 as being highly objectionable, modified the statement by declaring he 
 had paid for them in German coin of little value, and resembling dirty 
 silver, which the deluded owners of the geese accepted as francs and 
 half-francs. Probably he got them cheap, we'll hope it was no worse; but 
 ever after that, the legend ran that he announced us everywhere in the
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 59 
 
 following terms: — 'We are the English column. We have five ladies; we 
 have a great many stores. I have stolen a goose; will you have it?' Not 
 knowing where we should get our next meal, but evidently feeling 
 bound to make restitution somewhere. Everybody was so astonished 
 that nobody ever accepted the offer, and the geese in their feathers 
 travelled on with us. 
 
 We pursued our way, thinking of our own quiet England, and almost 
 fancying we could hear the ringing of the church bells for the afternoon 
 service. There was little distinction between Saturday and Sunday 
 through all the occupied departments, and the soldiers of the 'Pious King' 
 seemed to put it aside as a sort of luxury these people had no right to 
 indulge in, and from whose observance they themselves were specially 
 absolved in right of conquest. Requisitions must be made, troops moved, 
 and the routine of war go on, just as on any other day; but as we came into 
 Bar-le-Duc, everyone was walking about in Stmday costume. 
 
 The town was full of Bavarian soldiers, and Mr. W — and the General 
 thought it better to push on to a quiet village called Ruvigny, just beyond. 
 The only difficulty was the Baron. He had started with the object of going 
 to Bar-le-Duc, and had enquired at intervals all the way along how far it 
 was still to that place; but he was soundly sleeping, and it was tliought 
 better not to wake him, but to bring him along to head-quarters. He was 
 going to meet a son, whose corps was with the advanced guard, and 
 therefore it was useless his staying in Bar-le-Duc; besides, he saved a great 
 deal of trouble with outposts and sentries, and therefore, on all accounts, 
 he was allowed to sleep. What a gay, pretty town Bar-le-Duc looked as we 
 drove slowly through it. It was here the Young Pretender, Boni^iie Prince 
 Charlie, passed three years of his exile; and here, too, in the Church of St. 
 Pierre, are the remains of several princes of the House of Lorraine. It is a 
 thoroughly French-looking town, and we were told many Parisians had 
 country houses here, where they passed the autumn. A group of Bavarian 
 officers in their light blue uniforms were standing in front of the hotel, 
 and it was certainly a wise decision to go on the four miles that still lay 
 between us and Ruvigny. 
 
 We soon arrived at our destination for the night, and found the little 
 hotel unoccupied. Twenty-four hours before the head-quarters had 
 passed through; and here we heard the news of the flank march from 
 Chalons to intercept MacMahon's army on their way to relieve Bazaine
 
 60 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 
 
 and Metz.* It was. therefore, clear tliat we must turn away from the 
 Chalons road, and follow the advance of the army by St. Menehould and 
 Grand Pre. The great battle of the campaign was evidently close at hand, 
 and an early start next day was resolved upon. The Baron was assured we 
 were close to Bar-le-Duc, and sat down to dinner with that comfortable 
 conviction. His notions of geography had got more confused tlian ever 
 since we left Ste. Marie-aux-Chenes, and he was quite resigned to be 
 carried about in a comfortable carriage and allowed his undisturbed 
 repose, assured in his own mind that some day or other he should find 
 himself at Bar-le-Duc. 
 
 As usual, our early start ended in breakfast at nine, and getting off at 
 ten. We may be permitted to observe here that the ladies were always 
 readv. It was the gentlemen whose toilette seemed such a prolonged 
 occupation, for we used to hear them begiiining to stir about at a very 
 early hour, but it was certairily not a very early one when they made their 
 appearance. 
 
 Another quiet march brought us to a small village, through which the 
 German army had passed only the day before. We were close on the track 
 now. We halted to rest the horses, and walked to the house of the Cure to 
 get the keys of the church. He was absent, but his old housekeeper 
 received us most cordially, and showed us her once neat kitchen, now in 
 the dirty and disorderly state always the result of a room having been 
 occupied as sleeping quarters for soldiers. They had demanded dinner 
 and supper, and in no inconsiderable quantity; but though many empty 
 bottles showed the ravages made in her master's cellar, she insisted on 
 our drinking some of the wine, made, she told us, from the produce of a 
 vineyard close by. 
 
 The church looked quite new. It had been lately restored, and the 
 stones and debris had not been removed from around it. It was airy, 
 clean, and spacious, but nothing worthy of remark in it. It was an 
 unusually large church for so small a village; that was all. In it we met a 
 young man, by his dress a farmer or small proprietor of a better class. He 
 had just ridden in from the neighbourhood, and told us the French 
 
 After the amy of Marshall Bazaine, then 170.000 strong, withdrew into the fortress after the 
 Battle of Metz. the only French army left in the field was MacMahon's at Chalons-sur-Mame. 
 Taking personal charge, Napoleon m marched these 130,000 troops northeast, determined to 
 relieve Metz even at the expense of uncovenng Paris. General Helmuth von Moltke, chief of the 
 Prussian general staff, split off half of Prince Friedrich Karl's Second Army, which was laying 
 siege to Metz. The rest, called the Army of the Meuse. commanded by the Crown Prince of Saxony, 
 thrust toward Chalons.
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 61 
 
 picquets* were close at hand. As he then ascended the tower, he probably 
 went to look for them. We were rather diverted at the idea of what a 
 waking the German Baron would have from his dreams if they did 
 pounce upon us. It was all one to us. Indeed, we began to think that the 
 exceeding unpopularity of the German armies rendered it by no means 
 agreeable serving with them, and if the French Lancers had caught us we 
 should not have regretted it very much. At least, I can answer for Louise 
 and myself. 
 
 The country about us was hilly and well wooded. We could not help 
 remarking, as we went along, the utter solittide of \he roads. We never met 
 even a peasant's cart, nor did we see a living being in the fields by the 
 roadside. The com was standing in shocks; there was no one to gamer it in. 
 The scattered cottages were deserted. We were indeed coming close to the 
 seat of war. Late in the afternoon we came near St. Menehould, and the 
 General proposed to drive on in the carriage and see the state of affairs — if 
 we were really and truly on the right track, and what prospect there was of 
 obtaining a night's lodging. It seemed an age that we waited, St. Menehould 
 being hidden by the rising ground up which our road took its way. It was, in 
 reality, an hour before we caught sight of the returning carriage. 
 
 St. Menehould was full of troops, but the King had gone on. There 
 was a hope of a lodging in some private house, and we were, at all events, 
 to rest there for the night, even if we had to sleep in the waggons. The 
 entrance to the town was excessively pretty: across a bridge, with an old 
 chateau on a high rock overhanging the stream. A vast number of troops 
 were encamped for the night on the meadows which bordered the river, 
 the Aisne, and the long street in front of us was blocked with provision 
 and ammunition waggons. It was at St. Menehould that poor Louis XVI 
 was detected by the postmaster Drouet, from his likeness to the head on a 
 coin he gave,* when the post-horses were changed; and it was at 
 Varennes, some sixteen miles farther on, that he was arrested by the same 
 over-energetic official, who had ridden on horseback to overtake the 
 king's carriage and intercept his flight to the frontier. 
 
 We had plenty of time to indulge in historical reminiscences, for just 
 over the bridge we came to another stop. Night was closing in, chilly and 
 damp, and we were very glad when the General, who had gone on into 
 
 A picket is a detachment of one or more troops placed forward of a position to warn of enemy 
 attacL 
 
 * This happened in 1791, after Louis XVI was persuaded by his wife, Marie Antoinette, to flee 
 France and, in hope of reversing the Revolution, lead an invasion mounted by her brother, the 
 Holy Roman Emperor Leopold II.
 
 62 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 
 
 the town, sent the Admiral back to show us where to go. The waggons 
 and horses were left in a large open square with trees on one side of it, 
 and we ourselves, with our little baggages, walked with our guide round 
 the corner and into the main street. The town seemed much larger from 
 the crowd and confusion in the streets. The hotel, Mr. A — told us, was 
 impossible; but three rooms had been found in three different houses, 
 besides one for tlie gentlemen, and the hospitable owners had refused all 
 remuneration, and only expressed their anxiety to make us welcome. 
 Giving them all due credit for kindly feeling towards those who had come 
 on an errand of charity, we learned afterwards tliat we conferred quite as 
 great a favour as we received by accepting lodgings in a private house. It 
 was far better to have English ladies than German soldiers clamouring for 
 wine and brandy and supper, and too often pocketing the little ornaments 
 about the room, if they happened to strike their fancy. However, we were 
 most warmly welcomed by our hostess, a pretty young married woman, 
 showed into the very best bed-room, which was thoroughly comfortable 
 and even luxurious, and, very cold and hred, we refused all the offers of 
 our kind hostess to find us something of what was left (for they had had 
 Prussians in the house all day, and some were even still quartered there), 
 and would only accept a cup of coffee and a morsel of bread, and were 
 beginning to take off our boots, when a knock at the door was followed by 
 the entrance of Mr. W — , to tell us they were all very hungry, and had 
 resolved to have a good supper in their rooms. Tlie other ladies were 
 there, and they were to cook the Admiral's rabbit and a chicken they had 
 found somewhere, and he begged us to come over the way with him. A 
 mental calculation how long a rabbit and a chicken would take to cook 
 under evidently unfavourable circumstances determined us to decline the 
 supper party, and we discovered next day we had had at least two hours 
 more sleep than the rest; so very long did it take to get ready the table, 
 prepare the eatables, and find bread, knives, forks, &c. All night long, 
 however, the rumble of heavy artillery and the marching past of troops 
 never ceased. Now and then the shrill call of a trumpet rang out in the 
 still air. The army was in full advance, and when we rose in the morning 
 few soldiers were left in St. Menehould.* Our start was deferred, for the 
 roads in front were so blocked that it was better to wait awhile, and we 
 
 Moike had held his troops at St. Menehould until he was convinced that MacMahon's Army was 
 going to reUeve Metz. which would be politically popular, rather than taking the militarily wiser 
 course of safeguarding Paris. Moltke then sent the Germans eastward. On 29 August part of 
 MacMahon's army blundered into them, and were battered next day at Beaumont, so that the 
 French were deflected northward, away from Metz.
 
 THE CHASE AFTER THE KING. 63 
 
 should reach Grand Pre just as soon. The King was there, and we should 
 there receive our final orders. 
 
 We left the town about half-past ten, and escaped the crush on the 
 roads. We halted, as usual, about one o'clock in a little village. This was 
 now the 30th of August, and already vague rumours of French defeats 
 were flying about. A drunken man reeled past our waggon calling out, 
 'Perdue est la France!'* and snatched at my railroad rug, which I snatched 
 back again, remarking, Tf France is lost, that is no reason I should lose my 
 couverture."f The General was very anxious to press on. Great events were 
 occurring, or about to occur, ahead of us. Our halt was cut short, and we 
 took the rest of the road to Grand Pre at a lively pace. Along a straight 
 route Imperiale, through a fragrant pine wood, over a flat country plain 
 where the distant road dipped down to reach a village, the tower of whose 
 church we saw rising suddenly before us; then slowly through a blocked- 
 up street, and we were in Grand Pre. There was a sudden stop to let a 
 carriage and four go by, preceded by outriders in old-fashioned cocked 
 hats.t It was the King himself! There was fighting in front, about six miles 
 off, the people said, and he had gone out to the battle-field. 
 
 * Lost is France! 
 
 t Blanket. 
 
 t From about 1680, the cocked hat was supreme among men of fashion for just over one hundred 
 years. To show off the curls of their powdered wigs, they turned up the broad brim of their hats 
 — first on one side and later on two sides. This was called "cocking the hat." .
 
 64 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 The General, who had preceded us into Grand Pre, ordered our drivers to 
 turn up a street to the right off the central market-place, and we found 
 ourselves opposite a handsome red brick house, the contents of one 
 window by the side of the hall-door showing the master was a chemist. 
 He, with his wife and son, were waiting to receive us, thankful it was no 
 worse — that is, Prussian troops — and welcomed us into the rooms 
 vacated only an hour before by the King and his immediate staff. A piece 
 of white chalk was produced, and 'Ten officers of the Medical 
 Department' was written on the door. Tliis included the ladies, of course, 
 and looked very absurd, but was very useful. We deposited our baggage, 
 and while the gentlemen went into the market-place for news, we saw the 
 horses and servants all placed together in the stable, and from the little 
 garden in front watched the confusion going on just at the end of the 
 street. 
 
 For two days, our host told us, the great army had been passing day 
 and night. Every house had been turned into quarters for troops, and 
 every scrap of provision carried off. All day they had heard distant firing, 
 and no one knew what the next twenty-four hours might bring forth. It 
 was seven o'clock before the gentlemen returned. They had heard of two 
 horses to be bought at only twenty pounds each, and having brought their 
 saddles had invested their money on the purchase of them. That is, the 
 General and Mr. A—, Mr. Parker and Mr. W— had arranged to take on a 
 small selechon of stores in the carriage. The Baron, who had a bad cold, 
 was to be left for the night in charge of us, and they would send back for 
 us directly they had ascertained the exact locality of the battle-field, and 
 where our services would be of most use. We all sat down to supper, and 
 had the honour of finishing the King's leg of mutton; and whilst we were 
 still laughing over the absurdity of our so immediately succeeding him as 
 to eat up the supper intended for him, we heard loud lamentations 
 outside, and Mr. W— went to see what had happened. He found a lady 
 who was in such a state of fear at the arrival of so many Prussians, and so 
 perfectly convinced that they were about to burn down the town, that she
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 65 
 
 was imploring our hostess, a friend of hers, to allow her to hide herself 
 and her daughter, a pretty girl of thirteen or fourteen, in the first 
 convenient cellar. 
 
 Mr. W — tried to pacify her and induce her to return home, but she 
 wept on and refused. He then suggested having a guard in the house in 
 the shape of a couple of the English ladies, and, with a vague and 
 indefinite trust in their power to hold the entire Prussian army at bay, she 
 consented. Mr. W — most good-nattirally pleaded with us on her behalf, 
 and Louise and myself volunteered for the service. We finished our 
 suppers, got our hand-bags, and prepared for our expedition. Our host 
 and his son said they would go with us as far as the house, and having 
 received our final orders to be in readiness at an hour's notice we went off 
 in procession. We found the house was in the market-place, and a very 
 nice one. Mr. G — , the husband, was there, safely locked up with a 
 servant and a poor old lady of ninety, bed-ridden and literally paralysed 
 with terror. We were shown into a very nice room, and Madame G — 
 assured us, after nine o'clock at night, when the retreat sounded, she 
 should be better if the town was not burned down, as she fully expected. 
 We declared that we did not see why the Prussians should burn their 
 sleeping quarters over their own heads, but she only shook hers, and said, 
 'That was nothing; they were used to it.' We resolved at once to go to 
 bed, and were just dropping off to sleep when, after a tap at the door, 
 Madame entered with her daughter aiid a mattress, and implored us to 
 allow her treasure to sleep on the floor under the shadow of our 
 protection, and would we promise, promise on all we held most sacred, to 
 defend her with our lives. We sat bolt upright, to make the affirmation 
 more energetic, and said, 'Certainly.' The poor child being laid down in 
 her clothes on the very hard mattress, and requested to compose herself, 
 exit Madame, after taking an affecting farewell of her daughter. Five 
 minutes afterwards in she came again, to beg us to put on our brassards 
 over the sleeves of our night-dresses and keep our left arms out of bed, 
 that the Red Cross might be visible directly any marauding Prussian 
 entered the room. As the idea seemed to afford her great comfort, we 
 consented, only remarking that 'we did not allow Prussians in our bed- 
 room;' and off we went to sleep again. Ten minutes afterwards in she 
 came again, and informed us that the enemy were just about to set fire to 
 the other corner of the town. We begged her to let us know when the 
 flames reached the market-place; but after that she came in at intervals of 
 certainly not more than five minutes each, to tell us that she heard 
 dreadful shrieks, or smelt smoke, or was sure that the flames would reach
 
 66 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 US very soon. And so the weary night went on, till at half-past three A.M. 
 she rushed in again to say her mother was dying. 
 
 This was something real and tangible, and Louise directly got up and 
 went downstairs, and came back to tell me she thought it was true, and 
 the family was most anxious the old lady should receive the last 
 sacraments; but not one dare venture out of the house to fetch the priest, 
 and she herself had volunteered to do so. Of course I said if she went 1 
 should go. too, and dressed myself in haste. Madame G — persuaded the 
 old servant to take the biggest of lanterns and show us the way, and off 
 we went. It was a lonely night, or rather morning, with the intense 
 darkness that precedes dawn; not a sound was to be heard, not a living 
 being to be seen. I objected to the lantern as unnecessary and likely to 
 attract attention; but it appeared to be 'the proper thing' in Grand Pre, if 
 anyone went out after dark, to have a lantern; that is, anyone who was 
 somebody, and as Mrs. Nickleby says, 'Let us be genteel or die.'* We 
 blundered on, feeling very sleepy and tired, till the old woman and her 
 lantern stopped before a house in a side street, and I gave a gentle ring at 
 the bell, so as to avoid waking up any Prussians who might be qviartered 
 there. It was answered by the priest himself, an elderly man with grey 
 hair, who said he would come directiy. The dying woman was one of his 
 oldest parishioners, and he did not wonder that the excitement and fear of 
 the present time should prove fatal to her. 
 
 Having thus given the message, we suggested going back directly, 
 and leaving him to follow when more fully dressed, but he begged us to 
 wait and go with him to the church. It would be better; for himself he had 
 no fear, but he had to bring the Host, and he dreaded insult from some 
 foreign soldiers to his precious charge. We willingly consented. His old 
 housekeeper came down and took us into tiie kitchen, and told us of tiie 
 wreck and ruin in their poor household from the passing tioops. At last 
 the Cure appeared, and we walked up a dark lane or two, till we emerged 
 on a platform shaded with huge elm tiees, and overlooking tiie country 
 below. The moon was setting, and the watch-fires glimmering here and 
 there marked the bivouac of a division of the German army. The old 
 church threw a heavy shadow on the platform, bounded by its low wall, 
 and so perfectly calm and peaceful was the scene, that it was impossible to 
 realise the fact that the rising sun might shine on two mighty armies 
 meeting in a deati^-struggle. The scent of autumn roses was sti-ong on the 
 
 * Mrs^ Nickleby does not! Charles Dickens penned the maxim in Chapter 2 of The Cricket on the 
 Heartk ,n which Mrs. Fielding "had adorned herself with a cap. calculated to inspire the 
 thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore her gloves. But let us be genteel or die'"
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 67 
 
 quiet air, so quiet that the flame of a candle would not have flickered in it. 
 We could willingly have leaned over the low wall for hours and looked on 
 the fair scene below us, the dark woods, the open fields, and the dying 
 watch-fires, but the turning of the key in the church door recalled us to 
 present duties, and we followed the priest in. How strange it all looked by 
 the dim light of the lantern: double rows of beds, neatly fitted up with 
 mattresses and blankets, extended down each side of the nave and in the 
 aisles, but no one yet occupied them. They were so white and clean that 
 they stared out at us in the darkness with a singular effect, the pillars of 
 the aisle throwing weird shadows as we passed, on the beds below. The 
 priest turned off into the sacristy, for there the Host was kept in these 
 troublous times, and requested us to follow him close, and let the old 
 woman and the lantern bring up the rear; and so we emerged from the 
 church, the priest first, bearing the Host, and a little bell to ring if he met 
 any of the faithful, and Louise and I well up behind, and slightly keeping 
 on his right and left, to answer any questions that Prussian patrols might 
 ask. The lantern behind threw a long streak of light down the black street, 
 and the only sound was our steady tread and the clank of the old 
 woman's sabots.* 
 
 But we did not meet a soul. The Germans were too weary and the 
 natives too frightened to prowl about at four in the morning. Only once a 
 door opened and a baker looked out, the reflection of his oven fires 
 showing our little party distinctly. The priest rang his bell, the baker knelt 
 on his knee for an instant, and we passed on into the darkness, like a 
 phantom train. I ventured to suggest that the little bell was likely to 
 attract attention, but the brave old man said he was not afraid, and of 
 course we were not, or we should not have been there. Finally we arrived 
 at the house, and leaving the priest in the room of the dying woman, we 
 went upstairs, fairly worn out. Just as our eyes were closing in sleep, up 
 rushed Madame again — the Prussians, the Prussians, they were in the 
 house! It was not a false alarm this time; and hastily putting on our 
 dresses, not forgetting the brassards, down we went, and found one 
 soldier in the little hall and two or three grouped round the door. The 
 soldier inside did not look at all ferocious, and the others were evidently 
 waiting patiently for something, so the best thing was to be indignant, and 
 ask what they wanted. The enemy saluted politely, and said they had 
 fallen behind their regiment and had missed it. They could find no one to 
 give them intelligence, and seeing a light in the house, they had knocked 
 
 * Wooden clogs.
 
 68 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 to ask it a regiment, describing their dress and facings, had gone through 
 the town. Strangely enough, just as we entered Grand Pre, we had met it, 
 and been told they had marched far and fast, and left many 'trainards'* 
 behind. We were able, therefore, to give them the desired information, 
 and we asked if they were tired and hungry. They said 'very.' I observed 
 that thev could not sleep in the house, but 1 could procure them some 
 bread and wine. They said how grateful they should be, and turning to 
 Madame, who, not understanding a word, thought I was pleading for 
 their lives, I said, 'If you'll give them a bottle of wine and a, loaf of bread, 
 they will go quietly away!' 'Give them only bread and wine,' shrieked 
 Madame, echoed by Monsieur; 'they shall have all they require, only let 
 our lives be spared;' and Monsieur ran off to his hidden store (of whose 
 existence I was aware), produced a couple of bottles of good wine and two 
 large loaves of bread. The poor corporal's eyes brightened, as he took 
 them. 'Tell Madame,' he said, 'we have not eaten since daybreak 
 yesterday. Good night, and many thanks. Schlafen Sie wohl (may you 
 sleep well)!' and he bowed himself out and closed the door. Madame 
 gave a groan of relief, and observed, 'What do we not owe you! We 
 should all have been murdered and pillaged had it not been for you!' 
 
 The story the soldiers told us was a strange one. It was not probable 
 they could hear news of their lost regiment in a French house at four in the 
 morning. I think they wanted lodging and supper, but finding that witliout 
 trouble and offending English ladies they could not obtain them, they 
 gladly accepted the peace-offeriiig I suggested, and slept in the market- 
 place. However, all parties were mutually satisfied with the arrangement, 
 and at last we were allowed to rest in quiet. Day was beginning to dawn, 
 and we slept soundly, till at eight Madame came to awake her daughter 
 and bring us coffee. We then went back to our original quarters, and found 
 them all in despair. There was no bread! The army that had passed the day 
 before had carried off all that had been baked, and all that the flour in 
 Grand Pre could make. Carts with flour had come in and bread was being 
 made, but a sentinel was placed in every baker's shop, and every loaf was 
 to be kept for the troops as they passed through on their way to the front. 
 All that long day (August 31) they were pressed on, regardless of fatigue 
 and heat, regiment after regiment passing through at intervals, and it was 
 evident no bread could be had. 
 
 One of the Prussian soldiers of our escort told me that if I could get an 
 order from the General in command I could get some bread, so I started 
 
 Stragglers. 
 
 I
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 69 
 
 off with him to find that official. Just over a bridge that crossed a very 
 small stream and up a road to the left we met three officers, one of whom, 
 my soldier said, was the General himself. It was no time to hesitate or wait 
 for an introduction. I stopped the great man and requested an order for 
 bread. He was most kind and much amused. He asked, 'Did 1 know a good 
 baker?' Fortunately 1 had tried in vain at the family baker of the chemist, 
 and found him a very respectable man, with two sacks of good flour, and a 
 Prussian sentinel watching him. I therefore said I did know a very worthy 
 baker. The General offered to accompany me, and we turned back together. 
 We had to pass our head-quarters, and great was the astonishment of some 
 of the party who were lounging in the garden to see me parading with an 
 illustrious General and two or three aides-de-camp behiiid. 
 
 We arrived at the baker's, and a knot of women, congregated about 
 the door, took to flight. The neighbourhood expected the instant 
 execution of the baker, and the poor man himself shivered with fright as 
 the General, stooping his tall form, just kept his spiked helmet clear of the 
 doorway, and requested the baker in very good French to tell him how 
 long it would be before the bread was baked. The baker said, 'As fast as 
 he could;' and the General turning to me asked for how many persons I 
 claimed bread. 1 said boldly 'twenty.' 1 knew anybody would be glad to 
 have it, and it would, according to the system of 'requisitions,' cost 
 nothing. The General then quietly turning to the sentinel said, 'When this 
 soldier comes (pointing to my orderly) let him have twenty large loaves of 
 bread.' Of course I thanked my friend, and he bowed himself out, his 
 spurs and boots creating fresh consternation in the minds of the 
 inhabitants of the neighbourhood, and my baker looking aghast. 
 Requisitions meant payment by a ruined town after the war, and I 
 hastened to disperse the cloud on his rosy face, which shone brightly 
 through the flour, by dismissing the orderly with orders to return when 
 the bread was ready, and then paying my friend beforehand for his bread, 
 assuring him England came to help, not to oppress. 
 
 After telling our host at the head-quarters house that bread would be 
 shortly forthcoming, Louise and myself went back to our quarters, where 
 we were obliged to make our appearance at intervals, and console 
 Madame G — . Here we found some people lamenting over the distresses 
 caused by a Prussian invasion in a large and solitary house just across the 
 bridge and out of the main street, and begging us to go and see the lady 
 who lived there. We went off accordingly, and soon arrived. The house 
 was a very good one, belonging to a large brewery, and certainly it was a 
 scene of the utmost desolation. The stables were empty, the horses had
 
 70 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 been taken by the Germans, the plants in the garden torn up and trampled 
 down, and inside it was worse. Not a piece of furniture remained 
 unbroken, except in the room of the unfortunate mistress, who lived there 
 with her son. Tlie poor servants showed us the kitchen. Every utensil that 
 could be useful — pots, pans, gridirons and frying-pans, knives and forks 
 — had been carried off; chairs and tables cut to pieces in mere wantonness. 
 Some of the officials — for over 180 officers and men had slept there — had 
 taken possession of the bed-rooms upstairs, and in tlie morning had cut 
 the mattresses and sheets to pieces and carried off the blankets. 
 
 The son begged us to go in and see his mother. The poor woman was 
 in bed, but welcomed us as friends. All her 'household goods' lay broken 
 and strewn about the room, and she herself, always an invalid from heart 
 attacks, was in a pitiable condition. Tlie son was half broken-hearted, half 
 indignant; he had applied in vain to the Mayor to represent to the 
 Commandants de Place the unnecessary ravages committed by the 
 German soldiers. We gave all we could of the sincerest sympathy, and 
 begged him to indulge us with a glass of beer. He took it as we meant it, 
 as a high compliment, and from a hidden cellar produced a bottle of beer 
 of his own brewing, and of excellent quality. He offered to give us as 
 much as we liked to carry away with us, and only regretted we had not 
 passed the preceding night there, to be a help and comfort to his poor 
 mother. All things considered, perhaps we were as well with Madame 
 G — . However disturbed our repose was, it could not have been as bad as 
 with 180 reckless soldiery wrecking and ruining the quiet home of the 
 poor brewer. 
 
 We returned to Madame G — for our dinner-breakfast, and on our 
 way we strolled on to the platform by the church. The view was lovely, 
 though it wanted the quiet, dreamy charm of the night before, and coming 
 back down the very same street we had descended with the priest, we 
 passed a group of women gossiping together, and were amused by seeing 
 one of them turn suddenly, silence her companions, and point to us, when 
 she thought she was unobserved, saying, 'Look, look! the English ladies 
 who saved the house of Madame G — ' After breakfast, we went to head- 
 quarters; no message had come for us, yet a low, dull sound like distant 
 thunder was heard, and many said it was the firing of heavy artillery. 
 
 Our host and his son offered to accompany us to what seemed to be 
 the public promenade of Grand Pre. There was an old castle, now used as 
 stables and farmhouses, and through the central court-yard we emerged 
 on a raised platform overlooking the country for miles. This platform was 
 simply the higher ground on the north side of the castle, but on the east.
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 71 
 
 where it overlooked the plain below, was boiinded by a low wall, and the 
 steep bank sloped sharply down to the Route Imperiale which led through 
 Beaumont and Douzy to Sedan. The platform and the fields on the same 
 level, extending westwards, were cultivated as corn-fields. The corn was 
 quite ripe, had been cut, and lay in shocks about the field. It was a 
 glorious autumn day. The open country below was bathed in a, flood of 
 sunlight. The tall poplars, in a double row, marked where the road went, 
 and as far as the eye could see it was blocked by the long, long train of 
 waggons and columns of soldiers. 
 
 As they passed below us we could hear the talking of the drivers to 
 each other, and their German oaths as they urged on their tired beasts. We 
 loitered on the platform for an hour, conversing with our host, the Mayor, 
 and several other citizens, doubtless of 'honour and renown.'* Everyone 
 had a different story to tell of what was passing beyond the low grass- 
 covered hills that, in the distance, bounded the view; but no sound of war 
 could be heard, just then no rising smoke clouded the deep blue of the 
 sky. The view was exquisitely sunny and dreamy, and softened down in a 
 golden mist, like some lovely Claudet unspoiled by the fading of the long 
 years since it came, in all its freshness, from the great master's easel. The, 
 Mayor was an individual of some forty years of age; he looked robust 
 enough to endure the hardships of the present times, but he was quite 
 broken down by billets for lodging, requisitions for forage, and the 
 difficulty of procuring flour. He at present was cheerful. The Prussians 
 had all gone on to the front, the flour carts had come in, and his Worship, 
 in a buff alpaca coat,t white trousers, and a straw hat, was enjoying his 
 cigar in well-earned repose. He expressed himself graciously delighted to 
 have such worthy assistants as ourselves (Louise and myself) in keeping 
 the peace of the town, and assured us he was of opinion that all the 
 soldiers had gone forward, and we should have a quiet night. We 
 returned to head-quarters, and promised our host that we would only go 
 and see Madame G — and come back. 
 
 We went down the street, and were just entering the market-place 
 when a scared maidservant met us and implored us to go down and get 
 
 * "And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights. 
 That this same child of honour and renown. 
 This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, 
 And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet." — King Henry FV, Parti . Act 3 Scene 2. 
 
 t Claude Lorrain (1600-1682) French landscape painter. 
 
 i Pillaging in Grandpre cannot have been too serious: the soft sheen of fabric woven from the 
 fleece of Peruvian alpacas has been highly valued for 4,000 years.
 
 72 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 the Prussians out oi the brewery. They were there agair\, and her mistress 
 had sent for us; but as we looked round the market-place we found it 
 crowded with Prussians and Bavarians. Two regiments over 1,000 strong 
 had come in, and there was nothing to eat in the town! The situation was 
 difficult. We knew the soldiers would search every hole and corner for 
 bread and wine and meat, and finding none would grow violent. To add 
 to the excitement, a messenger came hurrying in to say the Prussians had 
 entered a little village about two miles off, and finding nothing to eat or 
 drink had set fire to it. Our host's son, with a very white face, came up to 
 us and told us it was all true; the smoke and flames were already visible. 
 We crossed the market place as quietly as possible: Madame G — had 
 double-locked the door and put up the shutters, but on our knocking and 
 calling out who we were let us in. Things were looking black, and Louise 
 and I went upstairs to watch the scene below, and saw the two officers in 
 charge sitting on their horses, as bewildered as aiiyone what to do. An 
 idea struck us how, at all events, to secure the safety of Madame G — 's 
 house, and we ran down and proposed to Madame G — to invite the two 
 officers to supper and a bedroom. I said there was bread and wine and 
 soup in the house, and we had a goose they could roast (one of the 
 Admiral's). Madame was weeping, and said, 'How could they roast a 
 goose?' I replied, 'The baker next door will bake it,' and Madame saw the 
 difficulty overcome, and implored me to go and get the officers and the 
 goose. Louise volunteered to keep the door against all comers, and off I 
 went, and with the politest air possible presented the compliments of M. 
 and Mde. G — , very worthy citizens, and would the noble commanders 
 accept a very good bed-room and such a supper as the reduced state of 
 Grand Pre enabled M. and Mde. G — to offer? The Bavarian officer 
 instantly dismounted, and in very pretty French begged his best thanks 
 for so much kindness and hospitality. 'Might his friend accompany him?' 
 'Most certainly.' 'Might he immediately offer his thanks to Monsieur and 
 Madame?' Also 'Most certainly. Would he follow me?' He did so, and I 
 presented him to Mde. G — , who was uncertain what her fate was to be, 
 shooting or hanging. He thanked her most courteously, and said as soon 
 as he had attended to the wants of his men he would present himself for 
 supper. Madame brightened up, and I asked if he would kindly write on 
 the door that the house was taken up as Commandants' quarters so that 
 no one might occupy their bed-room. A piece of white chalk was 
 procured, certain cabalistic signs scribbled on the door, and our friend 
 bowed himself off, saying, 'Au revoir,' whilst Madame, exclaiming 'We 
 are saved,' became on hospitable cares intent, and recovered all her
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 73 
 
 cheerfulness. Louise stayed to assist her, and I went off to head-quarters 
 to fetch the goose. 
 
 The rest of our party, by the way, were living svimptuously on the 
 remains of the King's provisions. The worthy chemist suggested, if I took 
 the goose through the, streets, the hungry Prussians would seize it; so I 
 threw a blanket over my arm, hid the goose in it, and sallied out again. As 
 I crossed the market-place I was stopped by some thirty or forty Prussian 
 soldiers. One of them advanced as spokesman for the rest. He was a stern 
 little man, in spectacles, with a very decided manner. He said in very 
 good French, 'Madame, you are English. Have the goodness to explain to 
 the deluded people of this town tliat we must have bread.' His manner 
 was studiously courteous, but I hugged my goose close as I answered 
 with equal courtesy, 'Monsieur, I regret it, but there is no flour in the 
 town.' 'Madame, look around you. It is not a thing to be believed, that in 
 a town with so many good houses there is no bread. Tell me not so!' 
 'Monsieur, it is imbelievable, but true. The army this morning took all the 
 bread with them.' 'Madame, I regret to say it, but we have not eaten for 
 twenty-four hours; we are very ferocious. If there is no bread in half an 
 hour, you will be all hanged upon tlie lampposts.' 'Monsieur, I shall 
 regret it very much; but that even will not bake bread without flour.' The 
 little man burst ovit laughing, and then sighed and said, 'I am very 
 hungry. Oh that I were back in London with my dear violin.' A memory 
 of his face dawned upon me. 'Is it possible,' I said; 'are you from 
 London?' 'Yes, Madame; do you not remember me? I am E. P — .' What 
 visions of concerts and concertos floated before me. How I wished I covild 
 ask him to supper; but the goose was a small one, and he had hungry 
 friends. We took an affectionate leave, and I earnestly hope he found 
 some bread. 
 
 On I went, when a breathless man stopped me, one of the officials I 
 had seen on the platform of the castle. 'Oh, Madame, we are lost; there are 
 a thousand more troops arrived, and the Mayor is perfectly disorganised.' 
 'Then, Monsieur,' I said, 'let him go and organise himself as fast as 
 possible.' 'Tres bien, Madame! but there are no qviarters left. Where is he 
 to lodge the men? Tliey will not sleep in the street.' 'Eh bien, Monsieur, 
 there are two or three hundred beds in the church; put some of them 
 there.' 'Madame, it is a magnificent idea, only they cannot cook their 
 suppers in the church!' 'Then, Monsieur, light a great fire outside and 
 lend them the corporation kettle' (le marmiton de la Mairie). 'Tliat goes 
 well, Madame. A thousand thanks. 1 will go to the Mayor.' And he ran 
 off. The effect of the advice was seen in the arrival of the Mayor in the
 
 74 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 market-place, in a black velvet coat, black waistcoat and trowsers, and 
 black wide-awake,* imploring his fellow citizens to be brave, and above 
 all, as he said, 'Soyez tranquilles, mes enfants,'t evidences of imperfect re- 
 organisation. At last I arrived safely with my burden. We were all 
 courageous and cheerful now, our shutters were down, our front door 
 open. Monsieur was lounging on the door-step. We were the 
 Commandants' head-quarters, and no soldier dare invade those sacred 
 precincts. Madame, leaving Louise to see that all went well with the 
 goose, and assured that I would remain at tlie front door, departed herself 
 to visit various friends in the neighbourhood, and relate her good fortune 
 and the safety of the house. Long before she returned, sundry maid- 
 servants arrived, bringing messages from their mistresses. Could tlie 
 English ladies find them an officer? It would be such a comfort. We were 
 obliged to remonstrate that officers were not plentiful, and we could not 
 find any more; but one persevering maiden returned to the charge, saying, 
 'If not possible, Madame, to find an officer, could we not have an officer's 
 servant?' whilst another withdrew, murmuring, with upraised hands and 
 eyes, against the injustice of fate. 'Tliink, then, of two whole colonels for 
 Madame G — , and not even a corporal for us!' I must confess it was a 
 monopoly; but what was to be done? The friends would not be parted. 
 
 There were only two officers in charge of all the men, 'trainards' from 
 the main body, probably, and we could not afford to part with them. 
 About seven o'clock they came in. Supper was ready, the soup was good, 
 and so was the wine, the bouillon, and vegetables, and above all, the 
 goose, was a great success. With the light-heartedness of the French, 
 Monsieur, Madame, and their pretty little daughter, finding the officers 
 most pleasant, entered into the spirit of the scene. We all drank wine 
 together and touched glasses, and how the poor fellows, ate, and then 
 laughingly apologised, by saying that, except a few raw vegetables, they 
 had had nothing for twenty-four hours. They were most grateful for a 
 good supper and a kindly welcome, and we all passed two or three very 
 merry hours; the last for many days. At last we wished each other good 
 night. The Bavarian, as spokesman, begged his warmest thanks, not only 
 to good M. and Madame G — , but to ourselves, who had procured him so 
 charming an evening. I really hope and believe Madame G — slept that 
 night, secure in the presence of the two Germans. Nor must I forget to 
 
 * 
 
 A wide-brimmed soft felt hat with a low crown. The Mayor may have been 'perfectly 
 disorganised' in many respects but at least he preserved his dress sense, with a costume for every 
 occasion. 
 
 t "Calm down, my children."
 
 ENGLAND TO THE RESCUE. 75 
 
 add, that before the supper ended the Commanders' servant arrived with 
 the leg of mutton he had received as rations, which was left behind for the 
 use of the house; and furthermore, the servant was induced to accept a 
 bed next door, where he acted as guard to a frightened family. At five 
 next morning they were off. They just knocked at our door and called out 
 a kind good-bye, and before we were fairly awake for the day they were 
 miles away from their night's qviarters.
 
 76 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 There never was a brighter summer morning than that 1st of 
 September, a day that will not be forgotten in the history of the world.* 
 From that miserable day may be dated the unbroken cloud of misforttme 
 and treason that crushed the hopes of France, and left her alone and 
 despairing to struggle against a resistless foe. Yet only twenty miles from 
 that great battle-field around Sedan all was as quiet and sleepy as if it had 
 been in some out-of-the-way provincial town of England. The troops had 
 gone on. The provision difficulties were ended, and Grand Pre was just 
 the sort of sunny, idle town at seeing which one would have wondered 
 how the inhabitants kept themselves awake, not to say amused. There 
 was a low, distant grumble in the air, but no cloud in the blue sky. 'They 
 are fighting in front,' we said, as we sipped our morning coffee; but we 
 did not dream how an empire was being lost, still less of the awful misery 
 that day would entail on the fairest provinces of France. And only twenty 
 miles away! Only the distance of Richmond from London, not half an 
 hour by express train.t What a contrast between the strife and agony in 
 front and the calm repose of twenty miles behind. 
 
 After breakfast we walked round the town, and seeing a lovely 
 creeper in a court-yard, ventured to enter and look at it. A lady, 
 perceiving us, came forward to welcome us, and asked us to come in and 
 
 After the Germans barred MacMahon from relieving Metz, instead of turning back to defend 
 Paris, he led his forces into the small border fortress of Sedan, against his own better judgment, 
 but on orders of the war minister. Moltke then recalled the Third Prussian Army (under Crown 
 Prince Fredrick William), from a march toward Paris and moved it north to Sedan. This trapped 
 Napoleon lU's army between two Prussian armies, attacking from both north and south. On 
 September I the French desperately tried to escape this pincer movement, but the Prussian lines 
 held at a cost of 9,000 killed and wounded. The French losses included 3,000 killed, 14,000 
 wounded and another 20,000 taken prisoner. 
 
 Both MacMahon (who was seriously wounded in the day's fighting) and the Emperor (who was in 
 tears) were captured. On the following day General Emmanuel de Wimpffen (who had succeeded 
 MacMahon) surrendered the remaining 82,000 troops of the French army and the fortress of 
 Sedan. It was one of the most crushing defeats in French history and cleared the way for the 
 Prussian march on Paris. 
 
 t Now down to 15 minutes from Waterloo — but a stopping train may take 40.
 
 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 77 
 
 see the view. Like many others, her beautiful house and garden had 
 suffered from foreign occupation. She begged us to go and stay with her 
 as long as we liked; indeed, we had so many invitations at Grand Pre that 
 we might have lived there at free quarters during the war. About noon I 
 went to see the lady at the brewery. The Prussians had left, and, thanks to 
 everything having been wrecked and ruined the day before, they had not 
 suffered much additional damage. 
 
 As I was returning I met Louise, coming to tell me the General had 
 sent a Bavarian officer to order us to go on directly to Beaumont. He had 
 asked me, before he left Grand Pre, how long we should take, after 
 receiving an order, before we could start. I replied, I tliought, with no 
 packing to do, one hour ought to be enough, and of this I had duly 
 warned the rest. Louise and myself instantly gave the news at head- 
 quarters. It was half-past twelve; I ordered the start for half-past one. The 
 drivers and German escort had had their noon-day meal. I paid off all 
 scores,* bought some forage, and they promised us everything should be 
 ready at the time appointed. Louise and I returned, and our kind hostess, 
 heart-broken at our departure, yet contrived to give us a charming little 
 breakfast, and at a quarter past one we arrived at head-quarters. The 
 waggons were packed, the horses harnessed, the drivers ready, and the 
 Prussian soldiers in their light carriage, prepared to go off instantly; but 
 that was all! The rest of the party were invisible, and, to my horror, I 
 found them only just beginning an elaborate dinner. I spoke of the 
 necessity of obeying the orders we had received, and enunciated the 
 magnificent sentiment, 'Duty before dinner,' and then went out to see to 
 the packing of our little baggages. 
 
 I was followed by the Knight of St. John, who had passed his time in 
 bed, except at the hours of dinner. He asked me if we really were going 
 forward. I said, 'Yes, directly, by order from our commander, the 
 General.' He said we should not go forward; it was dangerous, it was 
 useless, and the stores must remain behind. I said I was not under his 
 orders, and the stores were in charge of the General, who had left tliem in 
 my care, and both ourselves and them should go on. Just then out came 
 Louise. I hastily explained, and implored her to get the rest of the party to 
 leave their dinner and come away. She saw the necessity, and hurried 
 back. Meantime the Baron grew violent, and declared all the waggons 
 were his. I denied it. He then claimed the soldiers' cart as his, and 
 ordered the soldiers to turn out our light baggage and take the stores; they 
 
 * Debts.
 
 78 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 must go back to the depot at Pont-a-Mousson. And then he went back to 
 his dinner. 
 
 Louise came out. Her efforts had been vain, and she gallantly said, 
 'Let us go on with the stores, and let the others follow;' and so it was 
 settled. Tlie Prussian soldiers declared they would go. It was a lonely, 
 dangerous road, and they would not leave us, and I promised them ten 
 francs each when we arrived at Beaumont, where the General was 
 quartered for the day. Then I went back with Louise and told the rest 
 what had happened, that there was opposition made to our leaving, and 
 implored them to come away. There was not a Prussian soldier in the 
 town except our two guards and the old Baron, and the Bavarian officer. 
 We two could manage them; but troops might come in at any moment, 
 and the Baron would seize the stores, and they would be sent back to 
 swell the collection of goods in the depot at Pont-a-Mousson for Prussian 
 use alone. All in vain; so I left a paper with the route, and ordered a 
 rendezvous at Sommeurthe, six miles short of Beaumont, knowing that 
 with no baggage they might possibly get tliere first, and then went out. 
 The Baron rushed after me, perfectly furious. He ordered the soldiers to 
 stay behind, and, doubling his fist at me, threatened vague punishments, 
 if I dared to take away the baggage. I said I was resolved, and he turned 
 into the house, not believing we could go alone with five hundred pounds 
 worth of stores over twenty miles of lonely road. The soldiers were very 
 grie\'ed, but they could but obey orders, and they helped us to transfer the 
 light baggage to our waggons. We ordered one to remain to bring on the 
 rest of the party, under escort of the Bavarian officer and a troop of 
 dragoons, whom he was instantly expecting; and then, taking a cordial 
 farewell of all who had been so kind to us, we told the first two waggons 
 to move on, and, mounting on the third, took the road to Buzancy, the first 
 village between Grand Pre and Beaumont. 
 
 It was just two o'clock when we got off — two English ladies and 
 three Alsace drivers speaking only German. The country we had to 
 traverse was on the outskirts of the great battle-fields. Camp-followers 
 and trainards, or, as we call them, lingerers, infesting it. And the chance 
 of getting somewhere between the contending parties, or finding 
 ourselves in the line of fire of some battery of artillery, was also not a 
 remote one. If, as we wound slowly up the road leading out of Grand 
 Pre, our hearts half failed us, it was not fear, but a sense of the hea\y 
 responsibility thus laid upon us. It was our duty to obey orders; it was 
 our duty to save the stores for those who might so sadly need them. But 
 in fulfilling that duty we never for one moment doubted that, in the hour
 
 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 79 
 
 of anxiety and danger, we should not be 'Alone upon the hills.'* So on 
 we went till Louise, seeing we were going due east, remembered that we 
 ought to go due north, and we had no map with us. We stopped a 
 peasant boy and found we were going straight to Verdun, and must 
 retrace our road almost to Grand Pre. Having been nearly an hour 
 coming thus far, we were not inclined to do this if we could avoid it, and 
 he suggested a cross-road which would bring us to Buzancy, where we 
 could rejoin the main road. At a farmhouse on the rising ground beyond 
 we should probably find a man to direct us. We turned off accordingly, 
 and as we traversed the high ground, and looked back on the little town 
 where we had passed those long two days, we congratulated ourselves 
 that there we had protected and comforted four poor, frightened, 
 oppressed people; but no foreshadowing came to us on that autumn 
 afternoon with its golden sunshine of the dreary winter days when it 
 should be given to us alone again, with only God and our own English 
 courage, to keep, to protect, and comfort four hundred helpless beings 
 committed by Him to our care. 
 
 So on we went, so slowly that we had perpetually to get down and 
 urge our driver on. Travelling in times like these is not very safe, and it 
 was better to keep together. The utter loneliness was something appalling; 
 not a bird flew across our path, no sound of life except the slow grating of 
 our broad wheels on the dusty road and our continual cry, 'Forward!' It 
 was very hot, a blinding sunshine, no shade of trees, only low hedges and 
 scattered orchards. In the distance a few cottages but no living being 
 visible, yet what sound of war and tumult might suddenly break that 
 strange silence no one could predict. On we went up a long white road, 
 and then we came to the highest level of the rising groimd, and looked to 
 our left over a vast expanse of champaign country,! with blue hills and 
 woods in the distance. The meadows were fresh and green, the trees just 
 stirred their branches to the slight summer breeze, but down below were 
 long lines of dark figures; they changed places every now and tlien, and 
 here and there were little tiny black dots, that seemed to explode in a puff 
 of white smoke that went up slowly, to linger against the bkie sky before 
 it dispersed. Beyond were heavier white clouds of smoke and a dull echo 
 on the air. The little black dots were skirmishers, and the long lines troops 
 
 * Not from the Bible. Perhaps a misquotation from Tennyson's poem Timbuctoo about how 
 fantasy helps the human race make progress:". . . why muse you here alone / Upon the Mountain?" 
 
 t Open plain.
 
 80 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 in order of battle;* the smoke came from cannon and rifle, but the golden 
 sunshine threw a halo over all and softened down the distant outlines, 
 and that was our view of the great battle around Sedan. 'They are fighting 
 down there,' we said, and we tvirned off the hill road and descended to 
 the valley, and became intensely interested in the finding of some 
 intelligent peasant to guide us to Buzancy, for to us the battle was ended. 
 
 A battle is very pretty ten miles off, very exciting on the spot, very 
 dreadful when it is ended, and all that is left of the strife and the defeat 
 and the victory is tlie agony on the battle-field of those lying there, 
 moaning for help, and, even worse still, the cottages crowded with 
 sufferers, the stables and barns full of groaning men, no beds, no light 
 through the night; too often no bread, no water, no wine, and all help 
 insufficient for the time. How they listen for the Ambulance carts coming 
 to take them to some house where assistance and nursing can be found. 
 How many crawl away into some low shrubbery or wood or amongst the 
 long, cool grass, and days after are found dead, not from wounds, but 
 weakness and starvation. With all our improved means of helping the 
 wounded, this is too often the case. But the summer is so merciful 
 compared to winter, when the snow buries dead and dying alike, and a 
 white heap, a little higher than the white field around, is all the guide to 
 find some poor fellow gone beyond all human help. This had not been 
 realised to us as we halted in the village and looked for some one to guide 
 us in vain. We were half inclined to laugh at our predicament. I started off 
 and thundered at several doors; still in vain. At last I spied an individual 
 peeping round a comer, and dashed at liim. Finding it was not an Uhlan, 
 he ventvired forth, and, on being offered a consideration, consented to 
 guide us to Buzaiicy. He mounted by our driver, and we tried to get some 
 information from him; but if he ever had possessed any wits they had been 
 all frightened out of his head, for beyond saying everybody in the village 
 had run away and he was alone there, and shrieking 'right' and 'left' to our 
 drivers (the German for which we taught him), nothing could we get out of 
 him. He was evidently bent on escaping at the first possible moment, and 
 as soon as we had ascended another hill, and he caught sight of a church 
 
 Troops drawn up so as to present a battlefront. Tactics In the 18* century infantry were closely 
 packed together in 2-3 lines (ranks) to maximise the frontal firepower of flintlock muskets. The 
 close order and heavy discipline also helped to stop troops running away or deserting. The French 
 Revolutionary armies made widespread use of skirmishers and columns, both of which suited 
 untrained hordes. These innovations matured into the versatile combination used in the Franco- 
 Prussian war of battalion colunms and lines with a strong screen of skirmishers. Although 
 vulnerable to fire, columns were better at manoeuvre and formation change.
 
 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 81 
 
 Spire, he gave a sigh of relief, said 'Voila Buzancy!' jumped off, hardly- 
 waiting for his fee, and became invisible. 
 
 Our drivers were not inclined to stop at Buzancy, even to rest their 
 horses. Our private opinion was they were terribly frightened, and 
 inclined to keep as far from the scene of action as possible. But as we 
 insisted on going on and as every mile we went we were coming nearer, it 
 became a great point with them to go as slowly as possible, whilst with us 
 it was to get to our journey's end before dark. This unfortunate difference 
 of opiiiion caused a great deal of trouble, and we bitterly regretted not 
 having a little revolver. We had no intention of shooting ourselves by 
 firing it off; but it has always an effective appearance, and they would not 
 have known it was not loaded. Evening began to close in and not one of 
 us had the least idea of where we were. The horse in our waggon began to 
 go on in an eccentric way, stopping suddenly and pulling all to the right, 
 and we speculated how much further he would go, and what we should 
 do if he dropped dead; but the solution of the difficulty being too much 
 for us, we left it alone, and contented ourselves with hoping he would not 
 drop dead. And so hours passed away. At last we saw a group of dirty- 
 looking soldiers assembled round a broken waggon. They were camp- 
 followers, and we feared that they would seize one of our waggons to go 
 on their way with. I spoke of this to our drivers, and implored them to get 
 on. They would hear nothing. A desperate remedy was needed, and 
 looking sudderily to the left, and pointing to a clump of trees, I cried out, 
 'The French, the French; we shall be all made prisoners.' Louise aided in 
 the outcry, our driver got frightened, the others caught the alarm, and 
 they actually lashed their horses into a gallop past the suspicious party. It 
 was so quickly done that they had no time to stop us, even had they been 
 so inclined. At all events we avoided troublesome questions and 
 demands, and we rushed on down a long hill and fairly out of their sight. 
 Below us in a valley lay the village of Sommeurthe. How glad we were to 
 see the lights that showed the place was in military occupation! Anything 
 was better than the darkness of night on those lonely hills. The road was a 
 sharp descent cut in a hill-side and going round a corner, a low bank on 
 the right hand, and a very steep slope down to the little stream that ran 
 through the valley on the left. 
 
 Just as we began to descend, our horse made a dead stop, and then 
 staggered. It was all over with him, for the time at least, and the driver 
 was compelled to unharness him, and tie him up behind. The waggon
 
 82 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 was thus left with one horse only attached to the pole * The driver walked 
 and tell beliind to speak to one of the other drivers, who had lingered, and 
 our horse naturally pulled to the left. I called to the driver. He was 
 lighting liis pipe, and before he could reach the horse's head to turn it 
 round the waggon was over the side, and going slanting down the slope. 
 How we escaped 1 know not, except that the wheel caught against a large 
 stone, and the earth being soft, tlie downward progress of the waggon 
 was checked, and it came to a standstill. The heavy chests would have 
 overbalanced it in another moment, and 1 saw them swerving over. 1 was 
 on the right-hand side, and sprung out, Louise followed instantly; but the 
 escape was a miracle, and so we felt it. Half-way down an angle of forty- 
 five, with a stream below, and heavy boxes bringing the vehicle head over 
 heels, is a most unpleasant position. We recovered our coolness sooner 
 than the drivers, who yelled and chattered like monkeys, and at last the 
 horse and waggon were turned up the bank, and what to do was the 
 question. We could have gone on in either of the other two waggons, but 
 to leave the one we were in behind was impossible. Very valuable stores 
 were in it, so we decided it should go at a foot pace (all it could) ahead of 
 us, and one of us mounted each of the other two waggons as guard, for 
 darkness was closing in. 
 
 Our progress was slow, but happily downliill, and most thankful 
 were we to enter the village street. I saw a gentleman in a white cap run 
 out into the centre of the street, and call to several others to come and 
 meet us, and 1 cried out to Louise in delight, 'Here is Mr. W — ' (he, too, 
 had always worn a white cap). One of the gentlemen stopped the 
 waggon, and the supposed Mr. W — in the white cap came up and held 
 out his arms to catch me as 1 jumped off my throne of hay, saying, T am so 
 glad to see you. 1 had just sent out a patrol of carbineerst to look for you. 
 It is so dangerous on those hills.' The tone was foreign, the gentleman 
 spoke in French, and looking up I saw it was not Mr. W — . We did not 
 explain our mistake, but we did our misfortunes. Another of the party 
 was speaking to Louise, and asked, 'Were you not afraid?' 'Not at all,' 
 she said; 'we are English.' He laughed and said he had lived many years 
 in England, and had been a merchant at Liverpool. He added, 'That 
 gentleman with your friend is the Prince of Tours and Taxis.t We heard 
 from some of your party, who passed through an hour or two ago, that 
 
 A wooden bar extending from the front axle of a carriage between the wheel horses, by which 
 the caniage is guided and held back. 
 
 t Soldiers armed with short-barrelled rifles. 
 
 ? The Thum und Taxis family introduced a postal system in 1490 and for more than 300 years 
 held a monopoly over mail throughout the Holy Roman Empire. In the late 1700s their horse 
 relay system enabled a letter to get from Brussels to Paris in 40 hours. One of the Princes' dozen 
 palaces can be visited in Regensburg, Germany.
 
 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 83 
 
 you were on your way, and His Highness was so anxious that he ordered 
 out a guard to search for you.' The Prince tlien told us the rest had gone 
 on, hearing the General was at Beaumont. Of course we were vexed. They 
 had been ordered to wait at Sommeurthe for us, and had they done so we 
 too could have gone on; as it was, it was impossible. There was not a 
 horse to be had, and the Prince suggested it was so dark and late we 
 should lose nothing by waiting till the morning, and making an early start 
 of it. By that time he would find us a horse, and he would also try for 
 quarters for us. I believe he gave us up his own room in a small house, 
 and slept in his carriage. Nothing could exceed his kindness. He came up 
 with us, to show us the way, apologised for the rough accommodation, 
 and explained that he and all his friends had had no meat that day, which 
 must plead his excuse for not asking us to supper. Little could be spared 
 from the wounded, who were coming in fast; but a loaf of bread and a 
 bottle of wine he could give us, and would we give back what we did not 
 require? 
 
 We deposited our hand-bags, and went out to see our stores safe, tlie 
 Englishman, as we called him, with us. Whilst returning we were stopped 
 by the Prince. He pointed to the church close by, saying, 'That church is 
 full of wotmded, and we have nothing, literally nothing. Can you not give 
 us something? Lint, medicines, extract of meat, anything.' Now, we had 
 been ordered to bring on the stores untouched, but in a case like this to 
 refuse would have been heartless. I said if the Prince and some of his men 
 would help me to open and afterwards nail down some of the store chests, 
 I would give all I dared. He gladly consented, and we mounted the 
 waggons; the Prince going hard to work himself. We got out lint, cotton 
 wool, and a quantity of Liebig. They were most gratefully accepted. The 
 village was utterly destitvite, and no help at hand; our arrival was most 
 timely. The Prince bade us a kind goodnight, saying he had ordered the 
 Englishman to escort us to Beaumont at 6 A.M. next morning, and we 
 promised that more stores should be sent back by him the instant we 
 could communicate with our chief. We went off to our little room, had our 
 supper of bread and wine, and slept soundly till some of the people of the 
 house awoke us at daybreak. They were very sorry they had no coffee or 
 milk to give us, so we took a piece of bread each and a little wine, gave 
 back the rest, and with many thanks departed. Our escort was waiting for 
 us, the waggons ready, and at half-past five we drove slowly out of 
 Sommeurthe on our way to Beaumont. 
 
 One painful scene we had witnessed at Sommeurthe was still present 
 to our minds. As we were impacking the chests the night before, we saw 
 led through the village street as prisoners a man and woman, their hands
 
 84 ALONE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 tied behind them. They had been found on the battle-field that afternoon 
 cutting off the finger of a dead officer to get his ring, and we knew their 
 doom was certain. That bright morning a grave, hurriedly dug by the 
 roadside and hastily filled in, was all that was left of two who, the night 
 before, had been human beings in full healtli and strength. Such scenes 
 were too common. At Conny we had seen a man with his clothes half torn 
 off his back led struggling and shrieking down the street. He was a spy, 
 and his fate was sure. In both cases it was deserved; but in all such 
 sudden and terrible punishments there is something revolting to our 
 feelings of mercy and the gentle doctrine of pity and forbearance which 
 we profess to believe in and practise. War puts aside, and perhaps by 
 necessity, all such considerations, but it is not tlie less sad and deplorable.
 
 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 85 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 The morning air was fresh and cool as we drove out of Sommevirthe to 
 reach Beaumont. The sun had hardly risen, and the dew was still hanging 
 on the branches of the trees. The road was utterly lonely, and as we went 
 slowly along we saw a dark object on it. The driver of the first waggon 
 dismounted and picked it up. I looked at it in utter astonishment. It was 
 my waterproof cloak, which had been left in the waggon that conveyed the 
 rest of the party, had fallen out, and remained ever since seven o'clock the 
 evening before just where it fell. Can anything give a clearer idea of the 
 desertion of a high road by all ordinary traffic? 1 reclaimed my property, 
 not much damaged by the muddy road and the night dews, and we drove 
 on. Our kind escort knew nothing of the battle said to have been fought the 
 day before, nor where the French were. A crushing defeat of MacMahon's 
 army was spoken of, and wounded had come in in large numbers; but the 
 state of ignorance and confusion of mind prevailing in all who are near a 
 battle is a singular fact. Every man knows isolated incidents of his own 
 corps or brigade; but no one can give a general idea of the affair. I dovibt if 
 even the General in command knows much about it. Perhaps he pieces 
 together the reports of his officers; but it must be as impossible for him as 
 for any one else to have the battle-field and every manoeuvre upon it 
 spread before his eyes like a map. A white mist hid the distance, and so we 
 journeyed quietly on, speaking of England, till we entered Beaumont, 
 passed down a road with orchards each side, enclosed by walls, crossed a 
 little stream by an old stone bridge, turned into the main street of the town, 
 and almost directly afterwards into the central square, Grande Place, or 
 whatever it was called. 
 
 What a scene of confusion was there! Provision and ammunition 
 waggons. Ambulance carts, mixed up, together with troopers, some on 
 horseback, some dismounted, men of all regiments pushing here and 
 there, and heaps of straw round the church in the centre of the Place, on 
 which lay men in every stage of suffering from wounds — German and 
 French side by side. The church was full, and even the side streets had 
 wovinded lying on the door steps. Where to find our friends was the
 
 86 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 question. A Prussian officer who rode up was accosted by our friend, and 
 informed us they had found quarters in the Mayor's house, just down a 
 by-street, and there we accordingly went. A Frenchwoman came out to 
 receive us, exclaiming how anxiously we had been looked for. Her 
 husband ran upstairs, and in another moment Mr. A — came down with a 
 heartv welcome. Tliey had been very uneasy about us, and sent out a 
 patrol to look for us; but the General had consoled the party by observing 
 he should have been dreadfully alarmed in any otlier case, but as it was 
 Miss Pearson and Miss M'Laughlin he was quite sure they could take care 
 of themsel\-es; and the baggage and they would be at Beaumont early in 
 the morning. And there we were by half-past six, with the stores all safe, 
 feeling very proud of our successful effort to save them. God helps those 
 who help tliemselves, and in times like these personal considerations must 
 be put aside. The duty imposed on those who have any charge committed 
 to them must be done, and to fail in doing it is better than not to try under 
 every difficulty to carry it out. Besides, dangers and hindrances that look 
 so vast at a distance vanish into nothing as they approach. A little more 
 fatigue, a little more suspense, a few more anxious throbbings of the heart, 
 and a stern resolution that come what may the duty shall be done, and 
 difficulties vanish like frost in sunshine, and the struggle is over, the battle 
 won. 
 
 We dismoimted — for getting out of a carriage it could not be called, 
 to get off a heap of hay — and entered the house. There was a general 
 effect of confusion and wounded men. Almost directly afterwards the 
 General came down, congratulated us most enthusiastically on our 
 success and pointed out its result — that we had brought on help where it 
 was most terribly needed, and where, owing to the difficulties of the way, 
 none had yet come. That word 'difficulty!' It is too often an excuse for 
 leaving undone a tiresome task. Perhaps we were unconscious then, as we 
 certainly were afterwards, of the danger we had incurred. The General, 
 the Prince of Tours and Taxis, our escort, the Englishman, all seemed to 
 know it. But except heat, weariness, and nearly being tumbled over a 
 precipice, we had seen none. I believe both of us had a singular 
 unconsciousness of peril, which blinded us to it, and certainly saved us 
 many painful hours. We got what breakfast we could — some bread and 
 coffee; whilst Mr. A— and the General occupied themselves in finding 
 fresh horses for us, for they said we must press on to the front. 
 
 Whilst trying to boil some water for our coffee a priest entered, and 
 begged us to dress the wounds of some men lying in a house hard by, 
 whom no one had yet attended to. We went with him, and entering a
 
 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 87 
 
 small room found it full of wounded. We did what we could for them, 
 and first got some water. We unfastened their stocks, and washed the 
 blood and dust from their faces and throats. They were lying on straw; 
 and therefore to undress them was useless; but we took off their coats laid 
 them over them, and dressed their wounds. One poor fellow was in such 
 a state that I saw he was beyond our help, and begged the poor woman of 
 the house to fetch a surgeon. She returned with one belonging to a French 
 Ambulance; he examined the poor man's leg. It was shot through by a 
 ball, the bone broken, and the wound already gangrened. The surgeon 
 spoke most kindly to him of the necessity of immediate amputation; he 
 refused to have his leg cut off, and the surgeon said very quietly and 
 gravely, 'Then, my poor lad, you have but twenty-four hours to live. I 
 leave you for half an hour, and I shall return for your answer.'* We 
 dressed them all and went back to tlie house. 
 
 There were so many wounded in Beaumont, and such urgent need of 
 help, that, had we not been bound to get to head-quarters as fast as 
 possible, we should have stayed there. Whilst we were all discussing 
 matters two or three French surgeons arrived, one an elderly man, much 
 decorated. The General received them most kindly. They told us that they 
 had two Ambulances there, and that the Germans had taken away 
 everything they had — instruments, medicines, all were gone — and tliey 
 earnestly begged for help. Just at this instant in came several German 
 surgeons to ask for everything, possible and impossible, and I pleaded the 
 cause of the Prince and the promise I had made to send him back some 
 stores. A large collection was put aside for him, and then we turned our 
 attention to the wants of our present friends. Nothing could exceed the 
 jealousy of the Germans at the idea of anything more being given to the 
 French than to them, whilst we felt how badly the French Ambulances 
 had been used, and how necessary it was to give them the largest 
 assistance. The General said to me in a whisper, 'Tell me to put aside for 
 your immediate use on the battle-field a large quantity of things,' Louise 
 and myself instantly began to claim our proportion, and considerably 
 more. The General said, as there were two German Ambulances and two 
 French Ambulances, four equal parcels must be made, and then one for 
 us, and one reserved for the use of Mr. Parker, when he rejoined us. This 
 was done, and the Germans were requested to give receipts for the 
 various articles handed over to them. The French did the same. The 
 General whispered to me, 'Tell the old French surgeon to stay behind the 
 
 * Of 13,000 amputations performed by the French, some 10,000 patients died. Over 40% of 
 wounded with open fractures died.
 
 88 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 Germans, and to be very slow writing his receipts.' As I spoke to him he 
 burst into tears as he told me of his wounded, without a single thing with 
 which to nurse or dress them, and the nice stock of instruments and 
 medicines which had been so carefully got together, and which were all 
 taken away from his assistants and himself. A small cart came for the 
 German lots, but the head surgeon was evidently suspicious and 
 discontented. 
 
 Just after they left, we called to some French orderlies attending on 
 their surgeon to add to their store the heaps nominally laid aside for us, and 
 at that very instant the head German surgeon came back again, saying, 'I 
 have oi-ily two parcels; I ought to have three.' 'Not at all,' said Mr. A — , 
 who was trying to stand before tlie remaining piles; 'you have had three 
 that is more than your share.' 'How so?' asked the surgeon; 'I saw but two 
 I was to have one lot of things for myself.' 'So you had,' said Mr. A — 
 'there were three lots put aside for you, only Mademoiselle here was so 
 stupid she mixed up the three lots into two.' Mademoiselle tried to look 
 guilty, and the German took himself off, evidently not at all satisfied as 
 regards the two or three heaps. The gratitude of the poor French surgeon 
 was beyond all bounds, and he took instant precautions to hide up his 
 treasures where the Germans would not be likely to discover them. 
 
 All this business having been transacted, and the new horses for the 
 waggons having been harnessed, we prepared to start. The poor horse 
 whose failure the night before had nearly caused our topple over the high 
 bank was shot, it being discovered he had glanders,* and one other was 
 tied behind our waggon, and so annoyed us by munching the hay which 
 formed our seat, and thereby bumping us perpetually in the back, that we 
 begged he might be transferred to some other waggon, where there were 
 only store-chests to interfere with his amusements. The rest of the old lot 
 of horses were left behind, and as the new horses were powerful French 
 artillery ones, used to dragging heavy guns over open country, it was 
 possible to go forward at a great pace, but where no one knew. To Sedan, 
 the General said, for doubtless the French had retreated beyond it. Who 
 could dream of the surrender of that splendid army, which was only the 
 next morning to become a sad reality and an everlasting stain on the page 
 of French history? 
 
 The sun was still shining bright as we rattled out of Beaumont, the 
 General and Mr. A— on horseback, armed with long hunting-whips, 
 which were afterwards very useful. As we went on the sky seemed to 
 
 A contagious disease of equines that can infect and kill humans. It is characterized by a high 
 fever and a thick nasal discharge, with death in a few days.
 
 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 89 
 
 become clouded, a lurid haze to hang all about, and the brightness and 
 beauty of a summer day to be gone. We were on a long, straight road, 
 overlooking many miles of country. To the left, bodies of troops were 
 moving about in the distance, and a thick cloud of smoke arose from a 
 village some miles oft, which we could just see; but our road was as lonely 
 as usual. Presently, however, a cloud of dust rose before us, a gleam of 
 red was visible in the midst, and the General, who was in front, rode back 
 to us and said, 'Look out for the saddest sight you ever saw — French 
 prisoners in tliousands.' On they came, Prussian dragoons on either side, 
 four or five abreast. Every corps in the service-was represented there — 
 Artillery, Dragoons,* Chasseurs,t Zouaves,i: the Line,§ all unarmed, of 
 course, and unwounded, tramping heavily to the rear, where the railroad 
 waggons waited to take them away far from La Belle France to the 
 Northern land, amongst strangers and enemies. They walked with a quiet 
 and subdued air, but with a firm and steady step. They were not beaten 
 men, as we knew afterwards. Conquered and betrayed, but still hopeful of 
 some victory that should retrieve the loss of yesterday, they came on and 
 on, till the heart was sick to see them. Twenty thousand passed us by as 
 we halted, not to break the lines. Even their guards, soldiers themselves, 
 seemed to feel for them, and allowed them to halt for rest, and spoke in 
 softened tones to them. It was before the days of Gardes IVIobiles# and 
 Francs-Tireurs;^ these were the flower of the armies of France — Crimean, 
 Italian, and Chinese medals on almost every man of that sad throng. It 
 was a relief when they had passed and the cloud of dust hid their red 
 kepis and trousers from sight. The General spoke to one of the officers in 
 charge of them, who afterwards talked to us and told us we could not get 
 into Sedan. 
 
 The Emperor was still there, and the place had not surrendered; but 
 he thought we could get into the suburb of Balan, only we should have to 
 pass through the burning village of Bazeilles, which was somewhat 
 
 * Mounted soldiers trained to fight on foot as well as on horseback. 
 
 t Light cavalry or infantry trained for rapid manoeuvring. 
 
 t Quick-marching Algerian infantry uniformed in baggy trousers, gaiters, a short open jacket and 
 tasselled turban. 
 
 § Infantry. French Army regular infantry consisted of two groups: line infantry intended to 
 operate in solid, close-order formations, and light infantry trained to skirmish in loose formations, 
 relying on cover and movement. 
 
 # The Garde Nationale Mobile was originally formed in the civil war of 1848 as a citizens' militia, 
 but recruitment had been suspended at the start of the war because their mutiny was feared. 
 
 % Irregular soldiers, snipers.
 
 90 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 dangerous and very dreadful to see; but as there was no cross road, we 
 could not avoid it, and so we went on our way to Douzy, the first village 
 on our road to Sedan. 
 
 Just before we entered the village we had to cross a small stream by a 
 wooden bridge. A party of cavalry were in the level water meadows 
 below, guarding more prisoners, who were huddled together in long 
 lines, trving to keep each other warm; for a cold wind was blowing, and 
 everything looked dreary and desolate. Just as we were crossing, a cry 
 was heard, and we beheld the hindmost driver lamenting over the loss of 
 the horse which had been tied up behind his waggon. He had been 
 staring at the prisoners in the field, and some sharp Prussian soldiers had 
 cut the cord and walked off with the beast. Now, as it had been 'required' 
 by the Prussian Knights of St. John at Pont-a-Mousson a few days before, 
 there was no occasion for his loud lamentations over his ruin and evil 
 fortune. 
 
 Douzy looked utterly deserted; not a woman or child to be seen, only 
 German soldiers and some French prisoners wandering idly about. As we 
 halted in the main street a cry was raised; a number of chickens and ducks 
 had been unearthed from a barn close by and were running wildly out. 
 Captors and captives joined in a hunt, and picked up sticks to knock the 
 poor birds down with. The scene was most absurd, but nothing could 
 relieve the oppressive weariness of Douzy. The grey sky, the dusty 
 streets, the closely shut houses, the absence of all light or warmth of 
 coloring, were most depressing. The Admiral had, as usual, collected a 
 small crowd of German officers round him, but there were no civilians, 
 male or female, to listen to his eloquence. The General spoke kindly to one 
 or two French officers and took their addresses, that he might send news 
 of them home to their friends. We did not then appreciate what a blessing 
 such a trifling kindness might prove; but afterwards, when we saw the 
 piteous appeals in the Belgian papers from dear friends and relations 
 longing for news of those they hoped might be prisoners (not in the sad 
 lists of the killed and missing), we realised how many a weary month of 
 agonizing suspense was spared by that thoughtful act. 
 
 We were sitting in our waggons, watching the scene, when a German 
 General came up and begged us to have some wine. An aide-de-camp 
 brought a bottle and some glasses, and when we had taken the wine we 
 naturally gave back the glasses. Tray keep them;' said the aide-de-camp; 
 'they may be useful. Take anything you like; it is nobody's now, and may 
 as well be yours.' It was a delightfully lawless sensation to go shopping 
 with nothing to pay to select whatever pleased us, with no consideration
 
 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 91 
 
 of the bill, to be sent in next Christmas. One felt like a comfortable high- 
 way robber, sanctioned by the highest authority, and no forebodings of 
 Newgate* in the distance to cloud our perfect enjoyment of everybody's 
 property except our own. Under the circumstances it was Spartan 
 forbearance not to take a beautiful barouchet (quite new) and a pair of 
 splendid horses which the Prussian General pressed on our acceptance. 
 He had found them, he said, in the chateau he had taken possession of (a 
 large house close by). He really had no use for them, somebody would 
 run off with them that evening, he was sure, and really, we must be so 
 tired of our very uncomfortable waggon, he must insist on our having a 
 better conveyance; and he began to call to Fritz, and Wilhelm, and Johann 
 to bring out the carriage and harness the horses. We were young 
 campaigners then, and had a shred of conscience left, and we declined, 
 but we were tempted to regret it many a day afterwards. The Prussian 
 General's theory was right: somebody, no doubt, took the carriage and 
 horses, and they probably are being driven 'Unter den Linden' i: now; 
 wliilst I trust that we should have had sufficient strengtli of mind and 
 recti tvide of principle to restore our 'voiture de luxe'§ after the war. 
 Carriages and horses were great temptations where there were none, and 
 we met a wandering omnibus# the other day which had been "required' in 
 Mantes, had passed the winter in Orleans, and was going on to Paris. It 
 may find its way back some day; but as it has been all repainted in white, 
 with a Red Cross on the side, I fear it will cost some trouble and expense 
 to restore it to its pristine yellow. They were lawless times; I trust we shall 
 never know such in England. 
 
 The General told us we must get on as fast as possible. Sedan had not 
 surrendered, and there was an idea that a sortie^ on a huge scale would be 
 tried. The suburb of Balan was occupied by the Bavarians, and there, he 
 thought, we could find some sort of shelter for the night. He feared we 
 should find getting through Bazeilles difficult, but not impossible, and 
 
 * London's chief prison, built in 1188. The women's section usually contained about 300 women 
 and children. 
 
 t Four-wheeled carriage with seating for two facing couples, a high driver's seat in front, and a 
 folding top behind. 
 
 t "Under the lime-trees," Berlin's most popular and magnificent promenade, established in 1667. 
 
 § Luxury vehicle. 
 
 # Buses were generally double-deckers with about 20 seats drawn by two horses. Oscar Wilde's 
 poem Symphony in Yellow begins: "An omnibus across the bridge / Crawls like a yellow 
 butterfly." 
 
 I Rapid attack by besieged soldiers.
 
 92 THE LAST HOURS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 that we must be prepared for sad scenes, for hardship, and even danger, 
 such as we had not encountered; for we should have to go quite close to 
 the walls of Sedan, and the guns might open fire at any time. All these 
 possibilities had also struck us; but it was no time to tvirn back. We had no 
 wish to do so, and only begged him to take us to the front as fast as 
 possible, where our services would be most useful and our stores most 
 needed. We bade adieu* to the German officers and the dreary village of 
 Douzy, and at 2 P.M. clattered out upon the long, straight, and poplar 
 bordered road that led direct to Bazeilles. 
 
 Good-bye.
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 
 
 We left Douzy at 3 P.M. at a rapid pace, and went along the road, as 
 regular and straight as is usual with all routes Imperiales, that led to 
 Bazeilles. Look in Murray,* and you will find at page 648, route 180, the 
 simple statement, 'Bazeilles, four miles' (from Sedan). 'At this village is or 
 was the chateaut where Turenne was nursed, and an avenue planted by 
 him. Near here the Count de Soissons defeated the army of Richelieut, 
 1641, but perished on the field of battle.' That is all! But Murray must add a 
 longer and sadder record now to his next edition. We may simply say that 
 before the war it was a neat and pretty town, witli broad streets and white 
 stone houses, very many standing apart in their gardens — the country 
 residences of the wealthy shopkeepers and merchants of Sedan. It might be 
 described as a 'very select town' of 1,200 inhabitants. It had its Mairie§ in 
 the central place, a handsome building with a large entrance-door and 
 many windows, and a balcony from which his Worship (if French mayors 
 are so designated) # had proclaimed the latest bulletins of 'His Imperial 
 Majesty.' It had its neat little Hotel, and many good shops, and residences 
 of weavers, very few cottages; in fact, it was 'a genteel suburb'1 of Sedan. 
 On this quiet little town the scourge of war fell heaviest, and we saw it only 
 a heap of blazing and blackened ruins. Even as we drove along, a heavy, 
 thick smoke arose in the distance, a lurid mist seemed to hang over the 
 open fields on either side, where small parties were busy digging shallow 
 trenches here and there — the graves of the fallen soldiers. 
 
 * Hand-Bookfor Travellers in France. 1 1th edition, entirely revised, etc. pp. xxxii, 688. London, 
 1870. 
 
 t Chateau de Bazeilles is a castle, set in a 200-year-old park, offering a stately decor and double 
 rooms in a contemporary addition at $64. 
 
 t Cardinal Richelieu (1585-1642) was chief minister of King Louis Xm, against whom the Comte 
 had conspired. 
 
 § Town hall. 
 
 # Monsieur le Maire may be referred to as "Son Honneur." 
 
 1 The advent of public transport in the 1860s encouraged the middle-classes to leave city centres.
 
 94 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 
 
 We went on, the General and Mr. A — lashing the horses with their 
 long hunting-whips. Scattered bodies of troopers passed us every now 
 and then, and waggons full of knapsacks and other equipments; but every 
 moment was of importance, and we did not stay the full gallop of our 
 horses for troopers or waggons. The great cases bumped as if they would 
 break loose from their lashings. The drivers stared and muttered at the 
 unusual pace. We held on by the sides till the gallop slackened, and the 
 General, riding up to us, said, 'Don't look out; it is too bad for you to see.' 
 We said, "Better face the worst at once,' and he replied, 'Yes, you are right; 
 look out, and nothing you'll ever see in Hospital will alarm you 
 afterwards.' We did look out. Shall we ever forget the horror of that 
 scene? A long street, every house burning, some smouldering, some 
 blazing still; no human being there, but dreadful forms lying about the 
 streets in attitudes of pain and agony, their clotlies still smoking, with 
 clenched hands and upturned faces, the blood issuing from their mouths, 
 showing how fearful their deaths must have been. All were Germans, and 
 there were deep gashes on the throats of some that told a tale of revenge, 
 and possibly murder, that had been done by no soldier's hand. The 
 church and Mairie were only wrecks. Tlie Mairie had been made into an 
 Ambulance, but the flames had caught it. Tliere was no one to help or 
 save, and the floors had crashed in with their helpless occupants. Not one 
 single house was left. Death and destruction reigned there, and the smell 
 of burnt flesh lingered for many a long day with us, turning us sick at 
 everything that bore the slightest resemblance to it. 
 
 On every side of us the fire had extended up the main street, down 
 the cross ones, smoke and flame, crashing ruins, and burning bodies. We 
 feared the hay in our waggon would catch, and tried to cover it up with 
 rugs and our waterproof sheet. Sick, and faint, and smothered, we longed 
 to be out of that terrible place; but the horses winced perpetually. With 
 the noble inshnct of their natures, they would not trample on the dead, 
 and we were obliged to go slowly. It seemed hours before we reached the 
 central Place, where there were ruin and death still aroimd us; hours 
 before we got out of that fearful town, and breathed a long, deep breath of 
 pure air on the road beyond. But as we left the town one sad, touching 
 thing we saw. A small cottage on the outskirts had escaped the flames, 
 and there were wounded there, for a Red-Cross flag was hung out of its 
 lattice window — only a coarse white handkerchief, the Cross traced on it 
 in blood. Over all hung a deep cloud of sulphurous smoke, that in mercy 
 hid from the country round the awful fate of Bazeilles.
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 95 
 
 How it all came about will, perhaps, be never truly known. It was 
 held by the Marine Infantry against the enemy, who, in this case, were 
 aided by their own countrymen; for, mistaking their blue jackets and caps 
 for Prussian uniforms, they were fired at by both sides, and lost as many 
 by the balls of the French as they did by those of their foes. The village 
 was twice taken and retaken by the Bavarians, and it is said that when the 
 Germans were driven out the first time by the French tlie peasantry cut 
 the throats of their wounded who had been left there, and that when it 
 was retaken by the Germans they, in revenge, set fire to the town.* 
 Certainly it had been burned by hand. The houses stood separately, yet 
 everyone was destroyed, even where it was impossible flames could catch 
 from one to the other. Whether or not tl"ie popular tale is true no one will 
 ever know. Others say a Bavarian trooper entered the place just after it 
 was taken, asked an innkeeper for water for his horse, and was told in no 
 courteous terms to fetch it himself. That he seized a burning brand from 
 the hearth and set fire to the house, and the mania of destruction spread 
 like wildfire. 
 
 Why the Mairie should have been fired, with all the wounded in it, 
 German as well as French, is a difficult question to solve. Military reports 
 and popular rumours always differ, and both I believe to be equally 
 worthy of credit. At least, we have foimd them so, and in this instance 
 various accounts were given. There is some truth in all, bvxt often 
 mistakes; and certainly both French and German telegrams and reports 
 were singular flights of fancy. Everyone said the only reliable news came 
 from England, and the newspaper correspondents we met deserve every 
 credit for their endeavours to be exact. They all had their own 
 predilections, French or German, but all honestly endeavoured to give the 
 best account of passing events, and the slight colouring of personal feeling 
 maybe easily forgiven. 
 
 We were too ill from the scene we had witnessed to care much about 
 looking at the road we were travelling upon, and it was only when we 
 came near a village we were told was Balan that we could rouse from the 
 half-sick stupor which oppressed us. Here we encountered a number of 
 Bavarian troops. As we entered the place we saw that we were indeed in 
 the heart of the battle-field. Though the destruction had not been as 
 complete, as at Bazeilles, yet many houses hard been demolished by shot 
 and shell, and were only smoking ruins. Dead bodies lay about the street. 
 
 * Both sides had set fires to smoke out the enemy. France's Marine Troops commemorate the 
 anniversary of the Bazeilles battie every August 31, both on the spot and in all their units.
 
 96 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 
 
 and in one place were a carriage and pair of horses. A shell had struck 
 them, and driver and horses lay dead; their blood splashed upon the wall, 
 against which they had dashed in their last agony. The carriage, though 
 overturned, was ui-diarmed; of its occupant, if it ever had one, there was 
 no trace. Tlie road was strewed with articles from the houses around 
 which had been pillaged; books, china, and wearing apparel were thrown 
 about. We saw a very pretty hood of white caslimere, trimmed with black 
 velvet, lying on the ground beside where our carriage halted, and, as we 
 admired it, a soldier picked it up and presented it to us. A great number 
 of leaves of music books were also lying there. They were separate leaves, 
 or rather cards, such as wind instrviments have placed upon them when 
 playing on the march. We had time to look at it all, as our chief was 
 consulting with the Bavarian colonel what to do. 
 
 To go on into Sedan was impossible. It had not surrendered, and the 
 only alternative was to take possession of one of the many sacked and 
 deserted houses around us. There was one with a perfect roof, which was 
 something, and with two or three loftier houses between it and the guns of 
 Sedan, which was something more, and on this we decided; and the 
 colonel ordered the Bavarian soldiers who were occupying it to clear out. 
 It was an original style, certainly, of 'taking a house.' Furnished lodgings 
 it could not be called, for nothing was left except a mahogany bedstead, 
 too cumbrous to carry off, some tables, and chairs. There were stables, still 
 smouldering, but the drivers extinguished tlie last remnant of fire, and our 
 horses and waggons were housed for the night. We tried to discover what 
 sleeping accommodation we could find. Tlie bed-rooms were in a dreadful 
 state; the floors littered a foot deep with the contents of all the closets and 
 drawers, torn and cut up into pieces, linen, books, bonnets, dresses, papers, 
 chimney ornaments, mixed up, so to speak, into one heterogeneous mass. 
 The kitchen was worse; the dirt was inconceivable, and every utensil 
 seemed to have been used for something it was never intended for. 
 
 To clear up and clean out was our first endeavour, and whilst doing 
 so some of the party discovered a way through the garden to a chateau, 
 next door, where the pillage had not been quite so complete, and where 
 we should have removed our whole establishment, except for two 
 objections. First, it was too high, more exposed, if the guns on the 
 ramparts had opened fire; and next, and most important of all, the poor 
 master lay shot dead in the kitchen. He was a merchant of Sedan, it 
 appeared. His wife and daughter had taken refuge there, but he remained 
 to guard his property. The Bavarians arrived, loudly calling for wine; and, 
 with the idea of saving his cellar, he gave them sour cider. They resented
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 97 
 
 the insult by shooting him dead, and there he lay amidst the wrecks of all 
 the kitchen had ever contained, with the fatal crimson marks on his breast 
 that showed where the balls had entered. No bvirying party was at hand; 
 nothing could be done but to cover decently his white upturned face, and 
 leave him literally witli his 'household gods shattered around him.'* 
 Here, in this chateau, however, beds, blankets, and a huge box of wax 
 candles were found, some candelabra, and some cups and glasses. They 
 were borrowed for the occasion, and transferred to our humbler residence 
 next door, and we arranged our bed-rooms. Supper was now the 
 question. The kitchen had been cleaned out and a fire lighted, but all our 
 researches did not enable us to discover anything to eat. Liebig, however, 
 supplied deficiencies, and some vegetables from the garden; but it was 
 sad work to search for them. Amidst the lovely flowers near the house, 
 and beyond in the kitchen garden, dead men lay, seeming asleep in the 
 everung light. We got, however, a few potatoes, carrots, and salad, and I 
 remarked particularly one patch of very fine green potato plants, 
 promising a good crop, and we resolved next morning to begin there. 
 
 Night was closing in as we re-entered the house. Every door had been 
 broken open by forcing in the pannels, and the shutters of one of the lower 
 rooms had also been broken away. In the one we selected, though the 
 windows were gone, the shutters remained. We closed them, lighted the 
 candles, and began our soup with a few pieces of bread left from our 
 breakfast. Every moment we expected the much-talked-of sortie, and 
 listened for the opening roar of the cannon planted on the walls so near 
 us; but all was silent, except the challenge of the Bavarian sentinels, whose 
 grand guardt was next door, and tired and worn out, we were glad to lie 
 down on the mattresses we had found, and slept as profoundly as if all the 
 horrors around us were but a dream. 
 
 We were roused at some imearthly hour in the morning by a loud 
 shout proceeding, as it appeared, from the Bavarian colonel, who was 
 informing our General that the sortie was coming and that he was going, 
 having received orders to retreat to Douzy. His information must have 
 been of the worst description, as it afterwards appeared the Emperor had 
 surrendered himself and his army at 11 P.M. the night before. The colonel 
 was resolved, perhaps, to leave us in an unsettled frame of mind, as he 
 trotted away, leaving the village totally undefended; for he added the 
 pleasant suggestion that probably on his leaving the peasantry would 
 
 * "All his household gods lay shiver'd round him" — Lord Byron's Don Juan Canto I, Stanza 36. 
 t One of the advance posts of an army's main body.
 
 98 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 
 
 become excessively troublesome, and darkly hinted at robbery and 
 murder. This combination of anticipated horrors induced us to get up and 
 dress, whilst Mr. A — saw to the harnessing of the horses to the waggons; 
 but two or three hours passed away, and nothing happened. 
 
 Louise and myself sallied into the garden with a distant view to roast 
 potatoes for breakfast from that especial plot we had seen. But as we got 
 up to it, past some shrubs that hid it, we stared and rubbed our eyes. 
 Were we dreaming still! Instead of the green plants was a tomb, a cross of 
 iron placed on a square block of stone, a fresh wreath of flowers hanging 
 upon it, and a lovely cross of chrysanthemums lying on the newly-dug 
 grave! We forgot all about our breakfast, and tried to find some clue to the 
 mvstery. We went into the street, and found one solitary Frenchman, 
 who, seeing we were not 'Prussians,' told us he supposed it was done in 
 the night. The Bavarian guard had drunk hard and slept soundly, and 
 doubtless it was then that the body of some general officer had been 
 interred there. That probably, also, the fact of seeing an Ambulance flag 
 had been the inducement to bury it there, in the hope the grave would be 
 undisturbed; that tlie iron cross had been taken from a stonemason's yard 
 close by, as we might see for ourselves; and that perhaps after tlie war we 
 should hear who it was. He did not know; how should he? Tliese were no 
 times for meddling in other people's business; but would we let the 
 wreath and cross of flowers remain? It was nothing to him; why shovxld it 
 be? But, doubtless, it was some brave soldier, and the flowers did no 
 harm. He certainly knew more than he chose to tell us; but we assured 
 him that whilst we remained no one should profane the last resting place 
 of the man, whoever he might be, on whose tomb might truly be engraven 
 the grand old words that answered the challenge when the name of 
 La tour d'Auvergne was called in the ranks of his grenadiers, 'Mort sur le 
 champ d'honneur!'* 
 
 As we were finishing our breakfast (so called by courtesy), we heard 
 in the distance strains of martial music. The distant flelds were half 
 hidden by a golden mist, the Meuse was flashing in the sunlight, and the 
 raindrops of the night before were glistening on the leaves and hedges. If 
 we could have avoided the sad foreground, and only looked across the 
 
 "Dead on the field of honour." Napoleon named Latour d'Auvergne (1743-1800) "First 
 Grenadier of France." In an elegy of that title, the equally unforgettable weaver and self-educated 
 poet William Topaz McGonagall relates: 
 
 At last in action the brave soldier fell in June 1800. 
 
 And the Emperor Napoleon felt sorry when he heard he was dead; 
 
 And he commanded his regiment to remember one thing above all. 
 
 To cry out always the brave Grenadier's name at the roll call.
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 99 
 
 green meadows to the hills beyond, we might have fancied it the gay 
 music that preluded some great festival. The air was so like 'God save the 
 Queen' that for a minute we listened, believing it to be so. At that moment 
 the late Emperor was passing as a prisoner through the ranks of the 
 victorious army. It was evident that something important was going on. 
 The General mounted his horse, and said he would ride into Sedan and go 
 to the head-quarters to report our arrival, and ask for orders as to our 
 destination. He begged us to remain in the house to await his return, as 
 the village was so close to Sedan that it was in a disturbed state. He took a 
 Red-Cross flag in his hand, and rode off. 
 
 He had hardly been gone before a trooper galloped furiously down 
 the road towards Bazeilles; and some peasants going past, to try to re- 
 enter their desolated homes and save what they could, told us that the 
 French were about to break out of Sedan and force their way to the 
 Belgian frontier. About half an hour afterwards we saw a vast mob of 
 French soldiers coming up from the town. At that instant a regiment of 
 Prussian cavalry rode by and formed four deep, completely blocking the 
 road, whilst picquets were sent into the gardens and lanes on eitlier side 
 to prevent the French getting past. It looked as if things were likely to get 
 exciting, and we placed ourselves well behind our courtyard wall, where 
 we could see all in comparative safety. The officer in command went 
 forward alone and met two or three of the French. Apparently he 
 convinced them of the hopelessness of the attempt, for after a short parley 
 they retreated, and the cavalry withdrew into the park of the chateau we 
 had inspected with a view to a possible Ambulance. 
 
 The roadway had been clear and all quiet about half an hour, when a 
 small maid-servant came timidly stealing up to the front door, and asked 
 leave to enter. We asked her her business, and she said she was the servant 
 of the house. Her master and mistress were in Sedan. They had left several 
 days before, and had carried off the greater part of their furniture. She had 
 remained in the house till the bombs were falling round it and the French 
 were finally driven back, and a sergeant of the Marine Infantry had entered 
 suddenly and begged her to retreat into Sedan, as the battle was lost and 
 the enemy close behind. On this she fled, but in her haste she had left 
 behind her the cat and two kittens, and she had come back to search for 
 them, and to see who occupied the house or if it had been burned down, 
 and to ask if she might take away a few vegetables and some salad, as there 
 was very little to eat in Sedan. We graciously accorded her permission to 
 take her master and mistress some of the contents of their own garden, and 
 showed her that the house had not received serious damage. We took her
 
 100 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 
 
 upstairs, and she wept over the ruin of her crinoline,* which was indeed 
 but a shapeless mass, and the utter destruction of her best cap; but we 
 consoled her by remembering we had seen the kittens, indeed we had given 
 them something of the little we had the night before. She grew quite 
 cheerful, but the sight of the kitchen again overwhelmed her, and she sat 
 down on the remains of a chair and lamented for all her pots and pans, 
 which she assured us were once beautiful to behold; but just as she was 
 growing hysterical with her grief a faint mew was heard. She started up, 
 and the next instant the two kittens came racing in. They had heard her 
 voice, and emerged from the hole where they were hidden to greet their 
 mistress. She caught them up in her arms in a state of frantic delight. 'Oh, 
 my little ones, my hercxfs! have you stayed here to guard your master's 
 property? And tlie bomb shells have spared you. Ah! what courage you 
 have! You ought to have the Cross of Honour! Oh, what happiness, my 
 loves, to see you again!' The battle was lost, the house was wrecked, the 
 Emperor a. prisoner, and the Germans in their quiet homes; but all faded 
 into nothing before the joy of finding the kittens, though it was damped by 
 sorrow for the still missing mother cat. The poor girl expressed her delight 
 that we were in the house, and she knew we would not steal the things. 
 
 This we might safely have promised, imder any temptation, for, as she 
 said, everything had been carried off. She begged me to escort her back into 
 Sedan, as the peasant who had brought her out was gone on to Bazeilles; so 
 we started together. It was well to look straight forward at the green bastions 
 of the town, for the sights by the way were not good to see, and, as we got 
 close to the first gate, I met a burying party, and begged them to go to several 
 places I pointed out to inter the dead. I saw the poor girl safe into the town, 
 but it would have taken me too long to go to her master's house with her. 
 
 The streets were a mass of soldiery. The Germans had not entered, and 
 guns, swords, and belts were being flung about in every direction, and 
 broken, to prevent their falling into the enemy's hands. Old officers stood 
 about, some crying like children, and the frightened inhabitants were 
 peeping out of their windows to watch tlie scene of confusion below. 1 
 returned, and found two or three of the Marine Infantry begging for five 
 minutes' rest and a little soup. They had got past the gtiards, and were 
 making their way over the wooded hills behind our house to the frontier, 
 
 At this time skirts began to sweep backwards, so the crinoline was going out of fashion. It was 
 worn over a whalebone or metal cage, patented in 1856. This was actually a liberation for women, 
 because they no longer needed layers of starched flannel and muslin petticoats, and the vast 
 crinoline skirt made the waist appear comparatively small, so corsets no longer had to be tightly 
 laced.
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 101 
 
 only about thirty miles off. It was no business of ours to detain them, so we 
 gave them water to bathe their feet and a little soup, and they went out 
 tluough the garden, to avoid the high road. Poor fellows, they gave us a sad 
 account of the destruction of their battalion from the double fire of friend and 
 foe, and we hoped that they might get safe away, and avoid that long 
 captivity in Germany which we too truly apprehended would follow. 
 
 Then came a gentleman of the place, who begged us to go to a house two 
 miles away, where many wounded were needing help. This we could not 
 do, as we were ordered to remain till the General's return in the house, nor 
 could we leave the stores. We, however, gave him various things for the 
 woimded, and we proposed to him to send us all the wovmded he met who 
 could walk, and we would dress their wounds and give them some soup. 
 This was accordingly done, and we were kept busy till the General came 
 back. He had been to head-quarters, seen Prince Pless, and received orders to 
 go on to the little village of Donchery, three miles beyond Sedan, and close 
 by the chateau of Bellevue, where the Emperor passed his last night of 
 freedom. He went to order tlie waggons to be ready at four o'clock, the 
 streets of the town being still so crowded that it would be useless to attempt 
 to drive through them; and as it would be too late that night to commence 
 any work at Donchery, it was as well to remain quietly, and get what dinner 
 we could in Balan. 
 
 A carriage drove past. We caught sight of its inmate. It was Mr. Parker! 
 We rushed out and I 'hailed' him. Sundry dreadful ideas had been started 
 that he had been burnt in Bazeilles. Why no one knew; but we were all 
 delighted to see him. It seemed after leaving Grand Pre Mr. W — and he had 
 gone on to Beaumont, and finding the battle further ahead, had pushed on, 
 missing the General and Mr. A — , who were quietly sleeping as Mr. W — and 
 Mr. Parker passed through. They had been on the battle-field close by 
 Bazeilles, and narrowly escaped being shot by getting behind a wall. They 
 had gone into Sedan that morning, and Mr. Parker was just setting out on an 
 expedition to find us and bring us up. He was, of course, enchanted to find 
 us so close to the scene of action. Tlie General, finding he was with us, said 
 he should like to ride over the field, and he would meet us at Donchery, and 
 off he went accordingly. 
 
 I proposed to Mr. Parker to show him the ruined chateau, and as there 
 was also a very fine one opposite, he said he thought we had better look at 
 that too, in case we wanted a good house for an Ambulance. It was an 
 enormous place, but as rent was no consideration we agreed it would be 
 wise to do so, and leaving Louise and the paid nurse in the house, we 
 started off. Her statement is, that she immediately told the nurse to lock
 
 102 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL 
 
 the doors, which was done; tor the General having unfortunately said we 
 were going, the Bavarian Guard began to take possession of the house. 
 Louise then, being, as the old ballad says, 'of a frugal mind,'* resolved to 
 devote herself to the washing-tub, one of which had been, discovered in 
 the back premises. We had not had the chance of 'a wash' since we left 
 Brussels. Water was very scarce, for here at Balan and round Sedan every 
 stream was choked with corpses, dead bodies of men and horses were 
 floating in the Meuse, and very few wells and cisterns were 
 uncontaminated by blood. But a pump had also been found in an 
 outhouse, and these advantages, combined with the total impossibility of 
 finding a washerwoman, induced her to tuck up her sleeves and go to 
 work herself upon our mutual garments. The suds were tlying about in all 
 directions, as often happens with amateur efforts of this description, when 
 the kitchen door opened suddenly, and she saw the captain of the 
 Bavarian Guard. It flashed upon her directly tliat he had entered by the 
 shutterless window and crept through the broken pannel of the drawing- 
 room door, and that he meant mischief. He was very small, very ugly, and 
 very sandy, something like an ill-bred Skye terrier, and Louise prepared to 
 frown him down. What he said she did not comprehend, but she felt it 
 was something very impertinent, and in a select mixture of French and 
 German she ordered his instant 'evacuation,' and showed him the door. It 
 is to be presumed that she looked sufficiently ferocious to impress him 
 with a sensation of fear, or the polyglot language in which he was 
 addressed had a weird and awful sound, for he took to instant flight and 
 retreated by the way he came. 
 
 It must be remarked he had watched all of us out before he tried this 
 game; but then and ever afterwards we fovind that the Germans are easily 
 subdued, if only anyone has the courage to turn upon them. We soon 
 afterwards retvimed, and resolved not again to leave the house, for a party of 
 officers were drinking and smoking in the court-yard, and our stores were 
 not nailed down. One of them, a captain of Carabiiieers, had paid its three or 
 four visits, and on each occasion had graciously accepted Liebig, melon, 
 coffee, and potatoes, till we really thought we should have to nurse him in a 
 horrible fit of indigestion; and now they came to borrow the last half of our 
 last melon and all tlie sugar, a loan still accumulating at compound interest. 
 But what was worst of all, as showing the black ingratitude of human nature, 
 when late that evening his comrades arrived with rations and wine and 
 
 * "Though on pleasure she was bent, / She had a frugal mind."— WiUiam Cowper's History of 
 John Gilpin.
 
 THE SADDEST SCENE OF ALL. 103 
 
 smidry good things, he never offered us any, and became loftily unconscious 
 of our existence as we passed and repassed the table where he was sitting. 
 
 Mr. Parker was busy re-packing tlie boxes, which had been opened to 
 give out stores in the village, and all being ready he and I sallied out to the 
 stables to find our waggons and drivers, anticipating an early arrival at 
 Donchery; but imagine our consternation when we foimd all were gone! We 
 could hear nothing of them, except that they had been seen going back to 
 Douzy an hour before, and had told some mail who was loungiiig about his 
 ruined cottage that they were afraid to go any further. What to do was the 
 question. Omnibvises and waggons were standing idle in every stable-yard 
 of Balan, but horses there were none; and whilst Mr. Parker and I were 
 arranging to try and send some Bavarian troopers after our runaways, I was 
 summoned into the house to see a strange sight in those days — an English 
 gentleman, and not of oiir party. I hastened back to see who it was, and if by 
 chance he had brought any news from home.
 
 104 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 I FOUND Louise talking with a very pleasant Englishman, who told us 
 he had met with the General as he was riding out of Sedan, homeless and 
 hungry, and who had suggested his coming on, where at all events he 
 could get some soup and a rest. He was the correspondent of the 
 'Standard.'* and no one could be more kind than he was. Forgetttng his 
 fatigue, he started off with me to seek for horses, and as we went down 
 the road an officer galloped past us and, reining in his horse, claimed 
 acquaintance with me. It was our Bavarian commandant of Grand Pre, 
 but I did not recognise him in his shilling hehnet and long white cloak. I 
 explained our position, and begged him if he overtook our culprits on the 
 road to arrest them and send them back, which he promised to do, and 
 rode off at a rapid pace. 
 
 We prowled about the village street and into every stable and yard; no 
 horses were there. Tlie dead bodies were yet unburied, and the place was 
 deserted. My friend offered to take on three of the ladies in his waggon, 
 with only their hand-bags, as he was going to Donchery, and so it was 
 arranged; Miss McLaughlin and myself remaining behind with Mr. 
 Parker, to see what the morrow would bring forth. Their journey, we 
 heard later, had been tedious and difficult, owing to the crowded state of 
 the streets of Sedan. They arrived very late at Donchery, and could only 
 find miserable accommodation. The unfortunate French army, 80,000 
 strong, had not yet been consigned to that miserable island on the Meuse 
 where so many perished of cold and hunger. They were throwing their 
 arms and accoutrements into the ditches which surrounded the town, and 
 into the river itself, and were still lingering about the sh-eets. Hundreds 
 escaped, though the Prussian lines had closed all round the town, and 
 hundreds more might have done so, the frontier was so near. But many 
 still believed that had not MacMahon been lying desperately wounded, 
 unable to move, and almost unconscious of what was going on, that he, at 
 the head of 80,000 well-armed and unwounded veteran troops, would and 
 
 Founded in 1827, this newspaper, which later became the Evening Standard, is the sole survivor 
 of three that once served London.
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 105 
 
 could have cut a passage through the lines, even if half had perished in 
 the attempt.* But the Emperor had signed the capitulation, he was a 
 prisoner on his way to Germany, and the army of his conquerors were 
 preparing for their march on Paris. Sad tales are told of the ball given at 
 Sedan, which delayed the advance of MacMahon's army by twenty-four 
 hours, when, had the troops been pushed forward, it is said Metz might 
 been relieved; and legends are still current of the more than 
 Sardinapaliant luxury of the Emperor's travelling suite; of his thirty 
 carriages, which, whilst crossing the bridge over the Meuse on the 
 afternoon of that fatal 1st of September, prevented the French batteries 
 from playing on the Prussian troops beyond; of generals declining to leave 
 their breakfasts that they might hurry on their men to check the enemy; 
 and never will the French think otherwise than that utter incapacity and, 
 worse still, treason of the blackest description consigned their best army to 
 death and imprisonment. 
 
 But the full extent of the defeat and misfortune was unknown to us, 
 when, after seeing our companions off, in charge of their kind escort, 
 Louise and myself returned into the house to see what dimier we could 
 prepare, and whilst she endeavoured to find some of the cooking utensils 
 I went off into the garden to look for vegetables. I saw in the distance a 
 piece of very young-looking carrots, and remembering how very hard 
 those I had brought on the preceding evening had been, I went to it to try 
 for some better ones. But lying amongst them, crushing down the pale 
 green leaves, was a dead Prussian, shot through the head. Poor fellow, he 
 was a young man, with fair hair, and except for tlie wound and the blood 
 stain on oiie side of his face, he might have been sleeping. I covered up his 
 face with a handkerchief I found in the breast of his coat, and left him 
 lying there, in the quiet garden. 
 
 Marshal Marie Edme Patrice Maurice de MacMahon (1808-93) survived to become President of 
 the French Republic in 1873. He had been responsible for the victory of Magenta in the Italian 
 War of 1859, and was created a marshal and Duke of Magenta on the field of battle. Four years 
 earlier, during the Crimean War, he captured the Malakoff fortress: warned that it might be blown 
 up, he made the famous statement "Here I am, here I stay!" which serves as the title of an 
 interesting brief biography, with maps and colour pictures, that Noel M. MacMahon edited and 
 translated in 1993 fi'om a French work of 1894. It includes a tree showing MacMahon's 
 descendants and his Irish ancestry, starting with Mahon O'Brien, grandson of Brian Boru. In the 
 seventeenth century many MacMahons emigrated from their ancestral homeland of west Clare to 
 serve in the Irish Brigade of the French Army. 
 
 t Epithet for rulers given over to sensuality and extravagance. Byron wrote a tragedy about the 
 legendary Assyrian monarch Sardanapalus, who, after being besieged in Nineveh by the Medes for 
 two years, set fire to his palace and burned himself and his court to death.
 
 106 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 Mr. Parker had made another excursion to see if our absconding 
 drivers had been tound, but of course they had made the best of their way 
 in a homeward direction. The Bavarians had taken possession of all the 
 bed-rooms, so we resolved to make up a bed in the dining-room, on the 
 heavy bedstead, and Mr. Parker, with his usual good-nature and 
 cheerfulness, declared he preferred a mattress and blanket in a corner of 
 the kitchen to any otlier more luxurious arrangement. We were very 
 cheerful over Liebig and coffee, and whilst sitting round the kitchen stove 
 we heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs and the firm step and clear voice of 
 the General. He had been benightedt on the field of battle, and, instead of 
 going on to Donchery, had ridden into Balan, knowing he should find a 
 stable for his horse and a shelter for himself, for it was now raining 
 heavily. We welcomed him as best we could on our scanty means, but 
 some boiled haricots, wliich had been too hard for our dinner, were by 
 this time arrived at a softer stage, and he made a supper off them. He 
 arranged with Mr. Parker that both would like an early ride round by 
 Floing, where the cavalry had perished en masse, and return to us about 
 eight or nine o'clock, and the General would then go into Sedan, and 
 request from the Prussian Commandant the use of some train-waggons 
 and horses, as so many, captured from the French, were standing idle. He 
 was very indignant at the impertinence of the Bavarian captain, and the 
 continued annoyance they had been to us by trying to come into the 
 kitchen to cook their rations, when they had a large fire and every 
 convenience in a sort of wash and bakehouse at the back — a system 
 carried to such an extent that, when a good-natured soldier was chopping 
 some wood for Louise to cook by, an officer forbade him to do so, and 
 ordered him only to chop the wood for their cooking. 
 
 However, being indignant was utterly useless, and we all went to bed, 
 or rather mattress. The first part of the night passed off in profoimd 
 tranquillity; but at early dawn, or rather before it, Louise, hearing the 
 gentlemen moving about, was seized with an idea how comfortless it 
 would be for them to have no breakfast, and that she would get up and 
 make it. 1 remonstrated, first on the ground that the male sex always 
 looked after themselves, and secondly, that there was no breakfast to 
 make. To which she rejoined she had found some cold bacon she could 
 fry, and had a little chocolate she could warm, that the male sex, were not 
 capable of taking care of themselves, and that, as they were going over the 
 battle-fields, they must have food first. This difference of opinion resulted 
 
 t Overtaken by the darkness of night
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 107 
 
 in my staying in bed and her getting up, but, truth to tell, I had had no 
 solid food for three days, not a drop of wine, hardly any bread, and I 
 could not eat the so-called bacon, which was nothing but a piece of some 
 horrible fat. I was weak and tired from actxial want of nourishment. It 
 was two hours before our friends got off and Louise came back. We 
 resolved to sleep till eight o'clock, when we expected \hem again. But we 
 had hardly tried to close our eyes before we heard the lock of the door 
 being tried. We thought it was fancy, but presently the other door was 
 attempted. Louise called out to know who was there, and the answer was 
 a burst of insulting laughter. Fortimately, we had barricaded one door the 
 night before, and the wiiidow shutters fastened inside. We dragged a 
 heavy box against the remaining door, and felt pretty sure that the 
 Bavarian officers, whom we knew were prowling in the hall, could not 
 enter; but there we lay. Bright daylight came on, and we could not open 
 the shutters, for the windows were broken, and we felt utterly helpless, 
 alone in the house with this set of ruffians round us. 
 
 The annoyance of attempting to get in continued, as it seemed, for 
 hours. At last we heard the bugles for parade and a clatter out of the 
 house. We got up and dressed, and ventured to peep out. Our 
 persecutors were gone, for the time at least, but they had carried off all 
 that was left of our bread, though that very little and very old, the small 
 remains of the bacon, and most of the cooking utensils. We had no water 
 to wash with, for they had thrown all kinds of dirt into the open cistern, 
 the pump would hardly work, and we felt very dirty and dispirited. We 
 began a search, and found a little flour in a jar in an out-of-the-way corner, 
 and Louise made a few flour cakes. How we longed for the return of the 
 gentlemen! and to get away from this detestable neighbourhood. 
 
 Presently the small maid-servant arrived from Sedan. She feared we 
 were gone, and had come to see what was the fate of the house. She, on 
 being closely questioned, said she knew a neighbour who had retvirned, 
 bringing out of the town some mutton, and she thought, if she was 
 entrusted with a five franc piece, she could get us some mutton cutlets. 
 The very idea was encouraging, and we sent her on the errand. She 
 actually found the neighbour who had the mutton, and for three francs 
 and a half brought us what we should call in England the worst half of a 
 neck of mutton.* To cook our chops was a great struggle, but we 
 succeeded; we had still some coffee, though no milk, and with the flour 
 
 * Scrag end, the upper part of the neck. Best end, which has a lower fat content, is taken from 
 next to the shoulder. The neck can be cut into chops of a sort.
 
 108 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 cakes began what we considered a delicious breakfast, when horses' hoofs 
 rang on the pavement of the yard, and we ran out to welcome the General 
 and Mr. Parker. How hungry they were, how astonished they were to see 
 hot mutton, and how they enjoyed it. They had ridden far and wide over 
 the battle-fields and been to Floing. We had no curiosity to walk over the 
 hill beliind the house to see the other parts of tlie field. The battle had been 
 all around us, even in our own garden, where forty-five dead bodies were 
 found, liidden amongst the shrubs, and in the private lane leading to the 
 coach-house. We had no desire to see more horrors than fell to our share in 
 the way of duty, and we gladly began to prepare for oiu- departure. 
 
 The General rode into Sedan, and in about an hour returned with a 
 train of waggons, horses, and soldiers, sufficient to convey the baggage of 
 a regiment. They were French artillery, prisoners of course, and the 
 Prussian commander had ordered out some vague number to assist us. 
 Our chests, much reduced in number and weight, were distributed at the 
 rate of what Louise declared was one a-piece in the great ammunition 
 waggons, and the soldiers formed an imposing array in the road. Poor 
 fellows, how sad they looked! unarmed, and servants to any one who 
 claimed them from their masters the Prussians. They brightened up 
 under the influence of kindly words and real sympathy — who could help 
 feeling it? — and they said that, after all, serving English ladies was very 
 different from being at the beck and call of German officers. The sous- 
 officier* in command was a most intelligent, bright, well-educated young 
 man named Louis Bobard. 
 
 His sister was a governess in an English family in London, and before 
 we had made acquaintance ten minutes he had given us his name and a 
 short greeting written to her on a piece of paper, which he had found an 
 opportunity of slipping into our hands, to be delivered as soon as we could. 
 What amused us most of all was the spare horses led behind the waggons, 
 it looked so excessively formidable and was so truly ludicrous, considering 
 the feather weight in each waggon and the three miles we had to go. 
 
 Finally, the horses were ordered to be harnessed to the carriage wWch 
 had brought Mr. Parker. Louis, and Hippolyte, his second in command, 
 being detailed to ride by our side, we expected to start directly, when a hue 
 and cry commenced. The pole of the carriage was gone, nowhere could it be 
 found; and that was not surprising, for we ascertained that the Bavarians 
 had burnt it for their bivouac fire. Now, as there were trees all round, to say 
 nothing of firewood ready chopped iii the yard, it was a wastefvil 
 
 Non-commissioned officer: in this case probably a corporal.
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 109 
 
 proceeding. An appeal was made to the Prussian officer in command, for 
 by this time the new guard which had replaced our tormentors had arrived, 
 and he remembered he had seen a carriage with a pole in a neighbouring 
 coach-house, and ordered one of his men to fetch the pole. This was done, 
 and at last we started, thankful to be out of that miserable village; but one 
 thing upset all our gravity just as we were going off. 
 
 The little maid-servant had prowled about, jealously watching lest we 
 should carry off any of the shreds of property remaining, and filially she 
 discovered being hoisted into a waggon a small rough deal box, value in 
 material about sixpence. It had been lying about, and taking it for one of 
 ours, some lint and other parcels which had been turned out of a nearly 
 empty large chest, wliich was left behind, had been packed into it. She began 
 a series of lamentations over our thievish propensities and \he loss of the box. 
 It was the dog's box, her master had made it himself, and did we intend to be 
 so wicked as to carry it off? Considering the state of things, it was too 
 ludicrous. We declined to unpack the box, aiid shewed her the much better 
 one we had left. All in vain; she refused to be consoled, and we left her 
 locking up what was left of the doors, in spite of all assuraitces that the next 
 body of troops who passed would insist on finding quarters there. 
 
 We drove at a rapid pace into Sedan. The streets were pretty clear 
 now, the prisoners all on the island of the Meuse, but the usual train of 
 military waggons blocked the gate on the other side of the town. At last 
 we got through, and on to the road leading past the Chateau Bellevue, 
 where the Emperor had slept the night after the battle, and past the little 
 cottage in front of which, as legends say, he and Bismarck sat and settled 
 the fate of an empire.* As we were driving along with our imposing 
 cortege we overtook a pedestrian so evidently English that we stared, and 
 he bowed, and, coming up, told us he had seen our friends in Donchery, 
 that morning. It was Mr. Landle, of the 'Illustrated London News.'t He 
 got on the boxt and drove with us to Donchery. 
 
 In a weaver's cottage on the east side of the Donchery road near its junction with that to Frenois, 
 Bismarck laid down conditions for the capitulation which the Emperor was to sign at the Chateau 
 Bellevue. After a quarter of an hour in an upstairs room, they came out and continued their 
 conversation for another hour in the open air, the weaver having brought a couple of chairs. There 
 was much gesticulation but Bismarck did most of the talking, according to the eyewitness account 
 in Scribner's Magazine, vol. IV, no. 5 (November 1888), pp. 514-35. It was written by Lieutenant 
 General Philip H. Sheridan, a hero of the Union Army during the American Civil War, who had 
 been sent as an observer with the Prussian Army for the duration of hostilities. 
 
 t Capitalising on public interest in the war. The Illustrated London News (vols. 57 & 58) was 
 represented by five war artists, including two who sent despatches from besieged Paris by balloon. 
 
 ? Where a coach driver sits.
 
 no A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 Sedan is a \ery small town, built in a valley through which runs the 
 Meuse. and surrounded on all sides by hills. It is walled around with deep 
 ditches and drawbridges, so that the gates once shut, getting out was 
 impossible. It is as pretty a specimen of a trap as could well be imagined, 
 and I was assured afterwards that, had the gates been shut when the 
 French armv were retreating, the battle would not have been lost. They 
 could not have got in, and must have fought it out. Tliat is the opinion of 
 the townspeople; but it could not alter the fact of the German batteries, 
 being allowed to be planted on those hills, firing shot and shell at leisure 
 into the crowded town below. 
 
 It was just six o'clock as we passed over a wooden bridge and up the 
 narrow street of Donchery, deep in mud, wondering where our friends 
 might be, when we caught sight of tliem looking out of the window of a 
 small cottage. They greeted us with delight. The General, who was riding 
 by our side, proposed that Louise and myself in the carriage should go 
 with him to report our arrival to the head physician. We enquired for the 
 residence of tlie General in command, and drove on to the little central 
 Place. Here a lovely band was playing gay waltzes — what a mockery it 
 seemed of the wretchedness around — and the Prussian General and a 
 group of officers were standing listening to it. Our General introduced 
 himself and us, and the head physician, who was there, gave us a hearty 
 welcome. He took us off directly to see a house that was being fitted up as 
 a Hospital, showed us where the stores would be placed, and suggested 
 our sleeping in some rooms there; but tlie Prussian general opposed this. 
 He thought it would be far pleasanter for us to have quarters elsewhere, 
 and sent an orderly down a side street to a house vacated that morning by 
 some staff officers to find us quarters. We followed, and found ourselves 
 in a charming little house, with most respectable people, who, though we 
 were unpaid lodgers, were only too glad to escape quarters of soldiers, 
 and begged us piteously to pitch our tent there. This we did by leaving 
 our baggage. A stable next door was found for the horses, and the little 
 army soon deposited the store-chests in the new Hospital. Before dark we 
 were safely housed, and the poor people, finding we were too late to get 
 our rations, kindly cooked for us what they had. 
 
 We held a long consultation that night. The little money we had was 
 all but exhausted and the stores nearly used up. We had tried to 
 communicate with England and failed, and Mr. Parker and the General 
 strongly urged my going home for a few days to report our progress and 
 bring out stores. The General was going on with the headquarters, and 
 Mr. Parker would not leave the ladies again; so 1 consented to go, if I
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. Ill 
 
 found I was not aclxially wanted. The next morning we went to the 
 Hospital. We were most graciously received, and entered the wards. 
 There were no wounded, only fever cases, and plenty of German 
 orderlies. So little was there to do that I was glad to see some of us 
 employed in sewing up sheets in a peculiar German fashion. At early 
 dinner Mr. Parker and all of us decided tliat this state of things would 
 never do. 
 
 In the afternoon the correspondent of the 'Illustrated London News' 
 came in and quite agreed that we were wasted there. He mentioned the 
 Anglo-American Ambulance* in the great Caserne Asfeld, Sedan, how 
 they were crowded with wounded, and no help, and begged us to go to 
 them. We resolved to wait a day and see before we decidedly left the 
 service we had been attached to. We wanted orders, and to get them 
 seemed more imperative than ever; and it was settled I should start the 
 next day and return as soon as possible. That evening, too, my knee, 
 which I had hurt falling on a stone at Grand Pre during the struggle to 
 change the baggage to our own waggons, became very swelled and stiff, 
 and kneeling beside the low beds — only mattresses laid on the floor — 
 was impossible. Thus I was temporarily useless and so my departure was 
 finally arranged. 
 
 The next day no further work offered. We looked round the Hospital. 
 The German orderlies did not care about our assisting them, and it was 
 too evident our stores, not ourselves, were the attraction. But I deferred 
 my start, hoping to the last we might have orders. That afternoon Mr. 
 Landle, of the 'Illustrated London News,' and Dr. B — , an Englishman in 
 her Majesty's service, but of German extraction, tempted Louise and 
 myself to go on an expedition to the railway station to see if any fast trains 
 were available. It poured with rain. But we persevered; we found a train 
 starting with French wounded, who were allowed to go to Mezieres, 
 about ten miles further on in the French lines. At Mezieres they would 
 find trains for Lille and the north-west of France. There were so many 
 prisoners in health and strength that the Prussians did not then care to 
 take to the rear a number of helpless men. We found that it was very 
 uncertain when the next would go, if at all, and the only way was to drive 
 to Pois St.-Hubert, the nearest station on the Luxemburg line, and thence 
 take train to Brussels. We returned wet, and miserable. But what must 
 
 French military authorities maintained their staff was sufficient for all emergencies, so they had 
 refused aid fi-om neutrals. On the eve of the battle of Sedan the services of the Anglo-American 
 Ambulance were accepted. After that nearly all care of French wounded depended on neutrals and 
 volunteers. — SUM.
 
 112 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 
 
 have been the fearful sufferings of the poor prisoners on the marshy 
 island of the Meuse? The sad tale has been already told most truthfully 
 and graphically by Mr. Seymour, M.P., in a letter to the 'Daily Telegraph,' 
 published about the second week of September. He visited the island on 
 the dav following this miserable afternoon of rain, September 6, and his 
 account has been fully confirmed by the statements of various soldiers 
 whom we afterwards met — how tliey had no bread, and no possibility of 
 buying any, no shelter, no great coats or cloaks; they had been taken from 
 them or lost on the battle-field. A soldier, afterwards an Infirmier in our, 
 Ambulance at Orleans, told us that he himself was one of tliose who saw 
 starving soldiers eating the entrails of dead horses. Louis Brancard 
 escaped with some 1,400 others, and rejoined his battalion of the Marine 
 Infantry, to be again wounded and a prisoner on December 4; but 
 fortunately we obtained for liim from the Prussians a commission as 
 Infirmier, and he remained with us till the peace left him once more free. 
 
 No provisions had been sent oiit with us, such as casks of biscuits, 
 Liebig, or preserved milk, and even had we gone to the island we had no 
 means of affording any relief. Our own rahons allowed by the Prussians, 
 and which we accepted because we could buy nothing, were very scanty. 
 I do not think the meat given for six persons was more than we often saw 
 one German soldier carrying home for himself. The prisoners were 
 evacuated at the rate of some thousands a day, but the number that 
 perished by famine on that sad island will never be known. Herded 
 together like sheep, strictly guarded, but no common precaution of 
 humanity taken to feed them, what else could be expected. Their blood is 
 on the head of whoever had the command at Sedan, and who let helpless 
 men die for the want of the bread his soldiers flung away as hard and dry 
 unless fresh from the bakehouse, and sent rations to the guards, who ate 
 the soup and meat and bread and drank their wine in stolid indifference 
 to the starving crowd around them. 
 
 We were glad to find shelter in our quarters, and Mr. Parker coming 
 in with a gentleman, a German physician, who would be glad of a "lift' in 
 the carriage to Pois St.-Hubert, and it was therefore settled that he should 
 come in the evening to make final arrangements. Mr. Landle was to come 
 also with letters and sketches for his office in London, which I had 
 promised to convey, and it was suggested that we might as well give them 
 a cup of coffee. So after dimier we prepared for our evening reception by 
 lighting two more of the Balan candles, and to add to the festive 
 appearance of the scene we placed a black bottle of sherry, which Mr. 
 Parker had bought in Sedan, in the centre of a round table, witli a ring of
 
 A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 113 
 
 glasses encircling it, and so received our guests, who brought their own 
 cigars. Dr. B — came in also, and it is to be hoped that the pleasure of our 
 society compensated for the muddy walk they had to take to come to the 
 house, for except coffee and dry bread they had nothing else. We waited 
 for Mr. Parker to propose a glass of sherry round, but he, always 
 thoughtful for our comforts, just as he was meditating where the 
 corkscrew was, was seized with the idea that, perhaps, some of us might 
 be ill where nothing was to be had, and it would be wise to keep it for 
 such an emergency; so he said nothing, and the bottle remained 
 unopened. We were all very cheerful, however; and if it ever was a matter 
 of surprise to any of our guests why that bottle was simply used as an 
 ornament, we hereby beg to explain, and should this narrative of our 
 doings come under their eyes, we also beg to apologise for the 
 inhospitality, and to assure them that, in spite of Mr. Parker's real 
 kindness in thus guarding against future want for us, we should have 
 been happy to have shared the contents of our cellar (one bottle) with 
 them, for, generally and individually, we always received from Mr. 
 Landle, Mr. Austin of the 'Standard,' and all of their fraternity, the 
 greatest kindness and attention, and found them very pleasant, highly 
 educated, and gentlemanly companions.
 
 1 14 TO ENGLANfD AND BACK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 
 
 The mt^rning of tlie 7tl"i of September was bright and fine when, at the 
 appointed hour, 5 A.M., I made my appearance, ready for the journey; but 
 witli tlie well-known luipmich-iality of the male sex in general, neither my 
 two escorts, Mr. Parker and Dr. M — , were there, nor were the despatches of 
 the General finished. It was past seven before we left, and drove at a rapid 
 pace through Sedan. It was far more empty and quiet now. The French 
 were on their island, and the Germans were at breakfast. We passed 
 through Balan, and, though still ruined and desolate, the dead bodies of 
 men and horses had been buried; but the road beyond was even now 
 strewed with knapsacks, helmets, rifles, and all the litter of a battle-field. 
 
 As we neared Bazeilles, we saw a little thin blue smoke slowly curling 
 up into the morning air from the still smouldering ruins. A few peasants 
 were digging in the ground floors of the roofless, windowless, smoke- 
 blackened houses, we thought to search for anything that might have 
 escaped the general ruin. We heard later it was for a far sadder object. 
 Many women and children had hidden in the cellars during the fight, and 
 then when the town was fired by hand, and the Bavarians were rushing 
 from house to house with lighted torches, had not dared to escape, and so 
 perished in the burning ruins. One man was found, strange to say, with 
 an iron chain, still attached by a belt, also of iron, round his charred form. 
 So local legends say, but I never heard any explanation, probable or 
 improbable, of this wild story. Many walls had fallen and cumbered the 
 street with heaps of brick and stone, but all traces of war had vanished, 
 and the destruction of the pretty town might have been caused by some 
 every-day event. 
 
 We drove steadily on till at last, on a very very long road, we became 
 aware that our axletrees* were red-hot, and we made all haste to a little 
 house we saw which professed to give, according to English parlance. 
 
 Specifically the ends of each axletree (a supporting shaft) on which the wheels revolve.
 
 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 115 
 
 'Good accommodation for man and beast,'t and there we got down, while 
 water was thrown on the wheels, and they were put into safe order. We 
 were over the Belgian frontier, it seems, but where it began or ended I 
 know not. I think we passed a couple of Belgian hussarsi a few miles 
 farther back; but as neither hussars nor travellers seemed to take the 
 slightest interest in each other's proceedings, I cannot really say if they 
 were the frontier guards or not. As we were waiting in the little sandedt 
 parlour of the auberge, I suddenly spied a French paper — the only news 
 we had seen since we left Luxemburg. The three of us read it together, 
 and saw that France was once more a republic.^ It was such a delight to 
 feel restored to a knowledge of the events passing around us. In the midst 
 of conflicts that changed the destiny of a great nation we had been 
 ignorant of the result of them, except that the Emperor was a prisoner, 
 which fact had been announced to us by the triumphal music of tlie 
 Prussian bands. 
 
 After a breakfast of eggs and bacon we went on and on over those 
 interminable swells of down land, up and up, till we suddenly began to 
 descend, and there before us, in a picturesque gorge with a stream rushing 
 through it, was the romantic town of Bouillon, with the grand old castle of 
 the great Crusader§ frowning down from its rocky platform on the houses 
 nestled below. The town was very crowded with refugees from Bazeilles 
 and Balan, and having already rested and refreshed we pushed on to Pois 
 St.-Hubert, over more heights, through a long forest of low trees, till we 
 came down a rapid slope to Pois St.-Hubert, the station, with a few 
 miserable houses, being distant a couple of miles from the town of the same 
 name. We expected just to catch a train; in fact, Mr. Parker did catch one to 
 Arlon, where he was going to try for stores, but this was quite unexpected. 
 
 We thought the Brussels train would have gone first, but we had to 
 wait a couple of hours, and when it did come it was on the other side. 
 
 t A painting titled thus was exhibited by the British genre artist G. Goodwin Kilbume in the 1893 
 Chicago World's Fair. The painting, showing a traveller entering an inn, is decorous to the 
 extreme, but it gains verisimilitude from the landlady who watches her guest with no sign of 
 welcome, and the hostler who seems unable to decide what to do with his horse. 
 
 t Light cavalry. 
 
 t Sprinkled with sand for ease of cleaning. Sandstone is fairly absorbent. 
 
 t In 1851. when President of the Second Republic, Louis Napoleon had dissolved the legislative 
 
 assembly, then rigged a plebiscite that overwhelmingly approved the establishment of the Second 
 
 Empire. 
 
 § Godefroy, Duke of Bouillon and Marquis of Antwerp, sold his castle, set off on the first crusade, 
 
 and after three years, in 1099, conquered Jerusalem. Refusing to be King of Jerusalem, he became 
 
 Attorney of the Holy Sepulchre.
 
 116 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 
 
 where there was no platform. My escort and several gentlemen of the 
 neighbourhood, who hearing our business took a great interest in it and 
 most kindly remained to help us, got me safely into a carriage, and we 
 were off for Brussels. We reached it very late at night, and Dr. M — took 
 me to the Hotel de Suede, where, though there was not a spare bed-room, 
 they took me in and gave me a room somewhere up in the sky, with three 
 or four beds in it, I suppose a servants' room, but very clean and 
 comfortable. The directress, if such she was, who spoke perfect English, 
 asked me if I would not take something after my long journey. Now, as I 
 had breakfasted at 11 A.M. and it was midnight, the proposal was most 
 acceptable; but it was now so many days since even money could have 
 procured food and wine, that I humbly said, forgetting I was in one of the 
 best hotels of Brussels, if I could have a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine 
 I would gladly pay anything for it.' The kind directress stared and 
 smiled, and as it flashed suddenly upon me that I was where I only had to 
 ask and have if I would pay, I burst out laughing and explained. Bread 
 and wine and something of cold meat were directly brought. Indeed 
 notliing could exceed the kindness and sympathy of all in that hotel with 
 the tired and dirty Red-Cross stranger. 
 
 My escort was accommodated witli a mattress in the dining-room, 
 and I only hope he slept as soundly as I did, for it was broad daylight 
 before I woke up, dressed, and went downstairs, and found Dr. M — just 
 preparing to go by an early train to Ostend. Now, my experiences of that 
 passage were enough, and finding I could get to London as quickly by 
 Calais via Lille, we parted with an agreement to meet at Dover, where 
 both boats were to arrive simultaneously; but I had three or four hours 
 more on land. I was going for a little walk, when I was requested to speak 
 to some ladies who much wished to see me. They had relations with the 
 French army at Sedan, and naturally hoped to gain a chance scrap of news 
 of some brigade or regiment in that doomed army; and all the morning 
 the long, sad procession filed into the little public room where I was 
 sitting, with the same anxious question from all, 'What news of such and 
 such a regiment?' and the same prayer to take back to Sedan the few lines 
 of love or sorrow that, if the dear one were in some crowded Hospital or 
 Ambulance, might come like a voice from home, or the slip of paper with 
 simply the name, to search for it, if possible, in the list (if such existed) of 
 the dead or the wounded and the prisoners at Sedan. Poor breaking 
 hearts, they had come as near to the frontier as possible, where the earliest 
 news might be had, and all was silence. It was one of the most painful 
 features of the war that fearful suspense as to the fate of the absent, one
 
 TOENGLANDANDBACK. 117 
 
 that neutrals alone could relieve. But surely common humanity might 
 have suggested some relaxation of the strict rule of no communication 
 between the occupied and unoccupied departments, if only it had been 
 permitted for the prisoners to send one open letter to say if they were 
 wounded or only prisoners. Cannot the Geneva Convention take this into 
 consideration, and so heal many a deep wound no surgeon could cure?* 
 
 I left Brussels in the forenoon, but at Lille I was astonished, when I 
 presented myself at tlie passport office, where the passports were 
 examined, it being the French frontier, to be told indignantly, as I thought, 
 to go back to my carriage. Seeing my surprise, the official added, pointing 
 to my brassard, 'That is enough, and they say you come from Sedan.' I 
 pleaded guilty, and was surrounded by a crowd, all burning with desire to 
 hear something of the great battle from an actual eye witness. Apparently I 
 was the first waif and strayt that had surged up from the wreck of war, and 
 I was accordiiigly a great personage for the next half-hour. At the next 
 station where we stopped there was no buffet, and I was astonished to see 
 the station-master coming up the line, with a tray upon which were wine, 
 fruit, and delicate biscuits. He momited the step of my carriage, and 
 begged me to take some refreshment, and so kind and graceful was the act, 
 that I accepted it, not as done to myself, but to the badge I wore. Calais was 
 reached at last, I foimd my expected arrival had been telegraphed, and here 
 a very good dinner was ready, and as I was told that the Paris train was 
 very late, I did not hurry on board. 
 
 At last, weary of the station, I took up all my baggage (a hand-bag) 
 and went down to the port. The sun was shining with a blinding glare, 
 but a brisk wind was blowing, and the purple sea was breaking here and 
 there into ridges of foam, 'the wild white horses,'i: as Arnold calls them, 
 very beautiful to see, but very unpleasant to ride. I went down and took 
 up my place by the companion ladder. We waited, and waited, but no 
 signs of weighing anchor or loosing cables appeared. The captain said he 
 must wait for the mail-bags from Paris. The tide got lower and lower, the 
 ladder communicating with the shore was a steep descent, when suddenly 
 
 * The Geneva Convention gradually expanded until it became four Conventions in 1949. The 
 Capture Card (a post-card written by a POW informing next of kin of his whereabouts and state of 
 health) was made obligatory only then. However on July 31, 1870 the International Committee of 
 the Red Cross had set up a service for the exchange of correspondence between prisoners of war 
 and their families. 
 
 t Often used in combination, both words mean a homeless person, waif usually referring to a 
 child. Dr. Thomas Bamardo opened his first home for destitute children in 1870. 
 
 t "Now the wild white hcwses play, / Champ and chafe and toss in the spray." — The Forsaken Merman 
 by Matthew Amold.
 
 1 18 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 
 
 there came rushing along the pier a wild crowd of men, women, and 
 children, encumbered with more parcels than can be well conceived, and, 
 stranger still, dogs, cats, birds in cages, tied up in pocket-handkerchiefs, 
 and all sorts of odds and ends. They commenced tvimbling down the 
 ladder, arrested by the sailors, who kept them from tumbling into the 
 water, and shrieking to friends and relatives oil the pier behind to hasten 
 for tlneir lives, or all was lost. The boat would be gone, aiid no hope would 
 be left. For one moment, I had a wild notion that tlie Prussians had taken 
 Calais at bayonet's point, but I discovered directly afterwards they were 
 refugees from Paris. What a motley throng they were! — women and 
 children, and strong men too, who should have stayed behind with the 
 brave hearts fighting for France. 
 
 But the cables were loosed, the steam was up, and soon a mile or two of 
 troubled water separated us from tliat unhappy land. I went down to the 
 cabin, and slept soundly, though my travelling companions did not fare so 
 well, and very wretched they looked when we landed at Dover. It was past 
 8 P.M. before I reached my home. I had sent a telegram from Brussels to the 
 Secretary of the National Society, and next morning went down there to 
 meet the committee. Captain Burgess gave me a warm welcome, and after 
 waiting some time, Colonel Loyd-Lindsay* and Sir Harry Verneyt came in. 
 I had been told before I left Donchery to be sure three members of the 
 Executive Committee were there, as not less than a quorum (three) would 
 be likely to make an act legal. Perhaps it might be so; but at that time they 
 were not disinclined to trvist me, nor I them. I presented tlie despatches; 
 but before they were looked at Colonel Lindsay said, 'First of all, where is 
 Mr. A — 's (the Secretary's) Ambulance?' Now tliis was puzzling. We had 
 never seen him since we left Pont-a-Mousson. Yet he had brought us out 
 from England, so in a state of indecision as to whether we were his 
 Ambulance or not, I answered, 'At Donchery, I suppose, if we are his 
 Ambulance.' But here I was peremptorily cut short; we were not his 
 
 * Col. Robert Loyd-Lindsay, VC (1832-1901) was the one who started the drive for The Times 
 readers to fund ambulances. He set the ball rolling with a huge £1,000 donation. Loyd-Lindsay 
 (later created Baron Wantage of Lockinge) was elected the first chairman of the British National 
 Society for Aid to the Sick and Wounded in War. In 1 857 he had been one of the first to receive 
 the Victoria Cross, with the unique distinction that it was conferred on him for two separate acts of 
 valour in the in the Crimean war. 
 
 t Sir Harry Vemey. 2nd Baronet (1801-1894), soldier, traveller, a liberal MP for 52 years and a 
 pioneer in rural housing. At the age of 56 he proposed to 37-year-old Florence Nightingale. She 
 refused his offer, but soon after he fell in love with her year older sister, Frances Parthenope 
 (1819-90). She became his second wife in 1858. The Vemey family's home for 350 years, 
 Claydon House in Buckinghamshire, is a National Trust property open to the public.
 
 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 119 
 
 Ambulance. Had I seen his Ambulance? Like all women, I felt inclined to 
 be excessively sulky at the dictatorial tone; however, I kept it down, and 
 simply said, in an injured manner, 'I know nothing about it, then.' 
 
 The Colonel then soothed down, as it seemed to me, and explained that 
 they had 'sent the fellow out' with 800/., and had never heard a word of 
 him or his Ambulance, which was quite distinct from ours. I said, 
 'Evidently so, as I have come home with the last money mustered amongst 
 us, and paid my own passage.' A map was then produced, aiid I was put 
 through my geographical facings* as regarded the neighbourhood of 
 Sedan. I believe I must have answered to their perfect satisfaction, as we all 
 became great friends, and they acted, I must say, most kindly and 
 handsomely. They gave me everything I asked for, as I tried to explain why 
 such aiid such things were necessary, especially ready money, to buy on the 
 spot what could not be sent from Englaiid, such as fresh bread, butter, eggs, 
 and vegetables, for the sick, and things that did not answer carriage; and I 
 was confided to the care of one of the kindest and most cordial of their 
 officials, with whom I went to buy ready articles not in stock. Those were 
 our palmy days. (I belonged to that great Society then.) We had a regiment 
 of clerks, and another of commissionaires, properly bearded and medalled 
 (three claspst apiece), and hosts of young gentlemen thirsting to assist the 
 good cause at the rate of a pound a day. We went about in cabs, and sent 
 foreign telegrams, two sheets a-piece. 
 
 I wonder what they cost. I know one I saw contained nothing that 
 could not have been sent by post; but we had a princely fortune, and what 
 was expense to us? I felt as if I had suddenly become an heiress. I was 
 taken into shops, and chose what I liked, and the bill was to be sent in. It 
 was a trial of virtue. I had a maniac notion of suggesting velvet dressing- 
 gowns and cambrict handkerchiefs for the wounded, and astounding 
 Howell and James§ (close by, too) with a gigantic order, bill, as usual, to 
 be sent in to the Committee. Honesty, however, prevailed. I chose only 
 what I had been requested to get, and took a box of stores of my own 
 (merely actual preventives of the famine we had undergone), mostly 
 presents from private friends, and was told I was a noodle# for my pains. 
 
 * Examined thoroughly, to ascertain if her knowledge was only superficial. 
 
 t A clasp is a small metal bar attached to the ribbon of a military decoration to indicate the action 
 for which it was awarded or additional awards of the same medal. Three clasps would indicate the 
 same medal was awarded four times over, but perhaps "three rows of medals' was intended. 
 
 t Closely woven fine thin cotton. 
 
 § Dealers in fine furnishings and objects of vertu. 
 
 #Fool.
 
 1 20 TO ENGLAND AND BACK. 
 
 Two days ot hard work ensued. We had fairly worn out, even in that 
 short time, our only dresses as ordered by the Committee, and I ventured 
 to have four made to replace them. 
 
 I paid a very flying visit to my sister, Mrs. Walford Gosnal, at Ipswich, 
 during the hours I was not required by the Committee, and found that I 
 could adhere strictly to the programme laid out for me, that on a certain 
 day and hour 1 was to be again at Pois St.-Hubert with the stores. I had a 
 most friendly reception at the Prussian Embassy, and it is to the kindness 
 of Count and Countess Bernstorff,* and the safe-conduct they sent me, 
 that we owe much of the good we were afterwards enabled to do, and the 
 comfort and safety we enjoyed when all around was troubled; and this 
 was given, to their honour be it spoken, to help us to enter Paris, and later 
 to go into Orleans to help the Bishop, himself a Frenchman, with French 
 wounded under his own roof. Mr. Adams, of Putney, called upon me and 
 offered his escort. He was taking out stores, and our waggons could take 
 them on with his. It was a most acceptable idea, and all arrangements 
 being made, we left Charing Cross on the night of the 13th, for Ostend, via 
 Dover. It was a lovely evening, the sea as calm as a lake, and we made a 
 very short passage to Ostend. From thence, via Brussels, to Pois St.- 
 Hubert, where I caught sight of our French marechal des logis,^ waiting 
 with a letter from Louise. Mr. Parker arrived just afterwards at the little 
 wayside hotel where we were to put up for the night. It was too late, he 
 said, to push on to Sedan, where I found our party had gone to aid the 
 Anglo-American Ambulance. I had arrived over land and sea with all the 
 baggage, and 300/. in gold in my little courier bag, to the very day and 
 hour appointed; but the effort was too much. Exertion, anxiety, and the 
 privations of the previous weeks, had done their work, and I was obliged 
 to leave my friends and go to my own room, where, miserable as it was, I 
 could at least lie down and try to rest. That day was the beginning of a 
 severe illness. I was wholly unfit to travel farther; but I was resolved to 
 get on to Sedan, and next morning I got into the Ambulance omnibus 
 which was awaiting us, and as we went on our way I read Louise's letter. 
 
 * Albrecht Graf von Berstorff (1809-73), known for his charm, was appointed Prussian 
 Ambassador to London just before the Crimean war (1854-6). In 1861 he left to become foreign 
 minister but was displaced by Bismarck, whose Machiavellianism Berstorff repeatedly criticised. 
 Soon Berstorff was reassigned to the London embassy. 
 
 ff Sergeant in the army railway corps, which acted as armed police.
 
 LOUISE'S LETTER. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 LOUISE'S LETTER. 
 
 Caserne Asfelde,* Sedan, September 11, 1870. 
 
 'My dearest EMMA, — I know you will be anxious to hear how we 
 have fared since you left. You shall be au faiff of all that has happened 
 before you join us again. I send this by Hippolyte, who comes with Mr. 
 Parker to meet you, and it may serve to amuse you on the dull road from 
 St.-Hubert to Sedan. Yovi have doubtless heard we were here, and you 
 will be very glad, as you tliought we were very useless at Donchery. How 
 I wonder if you have brought out the stores? Perhaps not, as Captain 
 Brackenbury has sent over several waggon-loads from Arlon, and yovmg 
 Sims has also arrived with a splendid supply. We have plenty of 
 everything now, and as, doubtless, this is known in England, it will have 
 saved you much trouble and responsibility. 
 
 'Who is young Sims? you will ask. Well, my story will explain that.l 
 After you left we went down to the Hospital. Tliere was literally nothing 
 they would give us to do, so we took a walk on to the bridge, and there 
 we met Dr. B — . I explained how grieved we were to find ourselves so 
 useless, with such numbers of wounded in the villages all around. He 
 said he had a few men in a Convent, if we liked to go and nurse them for 
 him. There was nothing better to be done, so we went. There were sixteen 
 men in all, four wounded, tlie rest fever and dysentery. We divided this 
 amongst us. 
 
 'During the afternoon the Secretary turned up. He called at oiir 
 quarters. I was in Hospital, and did not see him. He had got an 
 Ambulance, as he calls it here, consisting of a train of empty waggons, for 
 conveying the German wounded to the nearest railroad station. Some say 
 he had blankets, but we have not seen them. I wish he would give us some; 
 they would be useful in Sedan. He was as mysterious as usual, and we saw 
 nothing of him. He had a very nice omnibus, which the General required 
 
 * Also called Caserne d'Asfeld. 
 
 t Informed. 
 
 t It does not! In fact "Young Sims" was Harry Marion-Sims, the nineteen-year-old son of Dr. 
 
 Marion Sims. Harry later entered into a medical career but was a disappointment to his father.
 
 122 LOUISE'S LETTER. 
 
 for us, and you will travel in it to-day. I believe there was some little 
 difficulty about the arrangement; but the Secretary had to give in. The 
 Admiral, as you call him, came back in the evening, as jolly as ever, and 
 brought all the London newspapers with him; that is, all the 
 correspondents. I wish you had been there; they were all so pleasant, I have 
 not had such a merry evening since we left England. We received them at 
 supper! Don't be astonished, when you remember the small rations of 
 tough beef, and the very sour wine, and the soup that was really only hot 
 water. We foimd the room, and they brought their own provisions — pate 
 de foie gras and champagne! Think of that. And they made us welcome to 
 it all, and we did enjoy ourselves; but the society was the best part of it all. 
 
 'Everyone had his own special tale of adventure to tell us, and we 
 could compare accounts of what we had seen with their experiences. 
 Educated English gentlemen never appeared to better advantage than in 
 contrast with tliose selfish Knights of St. John, with their long pedigrees and 
 empty heads! They came again next evening. Mr. Parker had returned 
 from escorting you to St.-Hubert, and had met Captain Brackenbury,* the 
 English Society's Agent, at Arlon. The day after that was the 9th. The 
 General left with the French troop. I don't know where they are gone; I 
 believe to pursue the chase of the King. We walked to see the little cottage, 
 just out of the town, where the Emperor and Bismarck met. Such a little 
 one, so small and dirty, that they sat outside and transacted their business. I 
 suppose the war will end now. The Germans have no reason for going on 
 with it. The King of Prussia said it was the Emperor he was fighting 
 against, not the people. Well, the Emperor is a prisoner, with all that 
 splendid army. What more can Bismarck and the King want?t 
 
 'Yesterday Mr. Parker came in and told us he had got work for us at 
 Balan, under Dr. Frank,^: who had a chateau ready for us, and was anxious 
 we should go. Mr. Parker had arranged that two should go, and two 
 remain to superintend the Infirmiers here. Of course there were 
 difficulties as to who should go. You can easily guess them, and I will tell 
 you more when you come back; but it was finally settled I and nurse 
 should go. Fancy our disappointment, after we had packed up and all, to 
 find the head German doctor had put his veto on it. We were not to go, 
 and yet he gave us no work at Donchery! Captain Furley called in the 
 evening; he was most kind. A week ago he suggested our going over to 
 
 An officer of the Royal Artillery who later became General Sir Henry Brackenbury (1837- 
 1914), Director General of Ordnance. 
 
 t They wanted German-speaking Alsace, over which Louis XIV took control in the late 17* century. 
 t An English member of the Anglo-American Ambulance.
 
 LOUISE'S LETTER. 123 
 
 aid the Anglo-American Ambulance at Sedan; perhaps it is through him 
 we are here now. However that may be, this morning Mr. Parker told us 
 that nurse and myself were to go to Sedan. Dr. Marion Sims* had made a 
 most pressing demand for our services. He has 600 badly wounded here, 
 and sadly needed help. 
 
 'We got here at seven o'clock. The place is miserably uncomfortable, 
 and nothing prepared for us. Dr. Marion Sims says he must have all the 
 rest of us, so the other ladies will come over to-morrow. I do hope to get 
 things a little better before you arrive. We have no sheets, and only one 
 room for the five of us. The whole thing wants setting to rights. I have not 
 been into the wards yet, it is too late to-night, but they seem crowded with 
 sufferers. You remember how anxious Mr. Landle of the "Illustrated 
 London News" was we should come here. It was he told Dr. Sims we 
 were at Donchery. He was quite right; we never could be more wanted 
 than we are here. How glad I shall be to have you back again, dear; the 
 week has been an age since you left. 
 
 'Ever yours lovingly, 
 
 'LOUISE.' 
 There was certainly food for reflection in Louise's letter, reflection 
 sadly interrupted by the erratic proceedings of one of our horses, who 
 would persist in turning round to look in at the omnibus windows and 
 declining to go on, except imder severe punishment. I was beginning, too, 
 to feel very ill, hardly able to bear the drive, and when we arrived at 
 Bouillon I was only thankful to crawl upstairs in a dirty cabarett and lie 
 down on a filthy bed. Yet thought will not be banished, and I thought on. 
 I was very glad that our party had moved to Sedan, it was so evident the 
 Germans only valued our stores, not our personal assistance. The poor 
 defeated French might be more grateful. Then 1 was rejoiced that Captain 
 Brackenbury had taken the command, though how far his power 
 superseded that of the Committee I did not know. In London they had 
 never named him to me, except that they had heard from him that some of 
 us were at Sedan. Then about the stores. Young Sims had brought out a 
 
 * The pioneering American gynaecologist Dr. James Marion Sims (1813-1883), whose patients 
 included Queen Victoria and Empress Eugenie, happened to be in Europe in 1870. He organized 
 the Anglo-American Ambulance Corps and became its surgeon-general. He died in bed while 
 writing his autobiography, The story of my life. Edited by Harry Marion-Sims. 471 p. New York, 
 1884. It was a best-seller, but after four years the family stopped its publication because they felt 
 the author would not have wished his son to publish such an inadequately edited account that only 
 went up to 1863. More informative is Scale Harris's Woman 's surgeon; the life story of J. Marion 
 Sims. New York, 1950. xx, 432 p. illus. bibliography. 
 t Tavern, not necessarily providing musical entertainment.
 
 124 LOUISE'S LETTER. 
 
 great many, and Captain Brackenbury had sent in more; those coming out 
 with me, to follow with the heavy waggon next day, were plainly 
 therefore very superfluous. Harry Sims had started from London, Captain 
 Brackenburv had telegraphed his proceedings there; why had they sent 
 out such a number of valuable bales by me? However, I was too ill to 
 speculate on the subject, and settled it in my own mind by deciding they 
 had so much money they did not know what to do with it; but my general 
 impression was of a hopeless confusion at head-quarters. 
 
 Sedan was reached at last, aiid we crossed the drawbridge and passed 
 into the town. We traversed the narrow streets, crossed the Place Turenne, 
 and stopped short just beyond it, where a steep road turned off to the right, 
 up a hill, crowned by an old keep and a long range of buildings, the Caserne 
 Asfelde,* now occupied by the Anglo-American Ambulance, under the 
 cliarge of Or. Marion Sims. Here, as our horse positively refused to advance 
 a step further, and seemed hardly able to hold up, I thought it better to walk 
 up the hill and find shelter in our quarters. Tlie road crossed another 
 drawbridge and led on to a green plateau, on which many tents were 
 pitched. The dirt was something frightful; every dressing that had been taken 
 off had been thrown out of the windows, and strewed the gromid below. We 
 entered the entrance door at the end of the building; boxes and bales were 
 heaped around it and about the stone staircase. The smell was terrible, and the 
 whole thing seemed to want organising from beginning to end. 
 
 I found my way into a barrack-room at the head of the staircase, just 
 outside the swing door leading into the wards, and, unable even to stand, 
 flung myself on the first bed I found there, and asked for Louise. She was 
 attending the operations, I heard; and I had only to lie quiet, half-insensible, 
 till the nurse came in, and, frightened to see the state I was in, ran off to find 
 my friend and beg her to come quickly. When she did arrive, I was 
 undressed and put into her bed, and Dr. Sims was sent for. He ordered me 
 not to stir, and he would see in the morning what could be done. I tried to 
 give our friends all the information I could, but I deferred asking any 
 questions as to our present position till I was better. I found that we, the 
 lady nurses, dined with Dr. Sims, the chief, an American; Mr. McCormac,t 
 
 Caserne Asfeld was a military barracks with 400 beds, but on its first day of hospital service 500 
 wounded men had already arrived there. Soon the Germans sent in a few hundred more French 
 casualties on the verge of death. Within days, symptoms of gangrene, septicaemia (bacteria in the 
 bloodstream), secondary haemorrhages, and extreme nausea started to manifest in established 
 patients as well as the newcomers. 
 
 t Uter, Sir WilUam MacConnac, bart. (1836-1901), President of The Royal College of Surgeons 
 of England.
 
 LOUISE'S LETTER. 125 
 
 an Irisliman, taking the second mess, and there being a third downstairs for 
 the juniors. There were some twenty surgeons and dressers in the Hospital, 
 besides other assistants, and every bed and tent was crowded with 
 wounded. 
 
 Every time the swing door opened the fearful smell came out, and by 
 night 1 was seriously ill. However, of this I have nothing to say, except 
 that I received the greatest kindness from everybody, a sister's care and 
 nursing from Louise; and next day Dr. Marion Sims ordered me to sleep 
 out of hospital, six in our room being too many. Louise came with me to 
 the Hotel Croix d'Or, Sedan, from which every day we mounted to 
 hospital, to our different duties. Ill as I was, the morning after my arrival I 
 went with Louise roimd the wards, and suggested one or two things to 
 Dr. Sims, which he begged might be carried out. Stores of all kinds were 
 over abvmdant, and the great thing was to enforce on the Infirmiers 
 (soldiers permitted by the Prussians to assist) and on the women who had 
 been hired to help, the first principle of order and cleanliness.* The other 
 lady nurses were all indefatigable, not only in nursing themselves, but in 
 keeping others up to their duty, and as Dr. Sims remarks, in his 'History 
 of an Ambulance,' t a great change was soon evident. 
 
 Louise attended every operation, and her long Hospital training made 
 her most useful on such occasions. It was certainly not conservative surgery 
 that was practised there, and the operations were very numerous.! Mr. 
 McCormac was a very skilftd operator, and it must have been a splendid 
 school of surgery for all the young men of the Ambulance. I preferred our 
 quiet jog-trot way at Orleans, when I saw it afterwards, where we had no 
 secondary haemorrhage* and no pyaemia!, except about a dozen cases out 
 of fourteen hundred, and one of those we cured; where we kept on the legs 
 and arms, even if they were to be useless afterwards, and only lost forty 
 
 * Attempting to avoid the spread of infections, orders were given that all windows must be kept 
 open whatever the weather, the floors had to be washed twice a day with carbolic acid solution, 
 and all used bandages must be burned. 
 
 t None of Sims' publications in the British Library or the Library of Congress concern ambulance 
 work. But it is on record that, having noted that some male nurses sleeping on duty, whereas the 
 women never did, he said: "As for nurses, I would not exchange one woman for a dozen men." 
 
 t Dr. Sims was convinced that the 100% mortahty from gunshot wounds in the abdomen was due 
 to septicaemia. He therefore decided that such cases required opening and washing out the 
 peritoneal cavity. The procedure later proved highly successful. However he thought it worthless 
 to try it out at Caserne d'Asfeld because he had concluded that all French hospitals were 
 "completely septicised." 
 
 # Bleeding at an interval after the injury. 
 
 1 Septicaemia with multiple abscesses and fever.
 
 126 LOUISE'S LETTER. 
 
 patients out of fourteen hundred. Perhaps it was not so scientific, but it was 
 more satisfying. In both cases I am sure all was done that could be to cure 
 or to alleviate, and if the style differed, it was a mere question. I cannot 
 decide which was really best in a learned point of view. 
 
 But what was certainly not best was the system of waste that went on. 
 Imagine three or four hundred sheets being burned because some men with 
 pyemia had been sleeping in some of them, and of course the Infirmiers had 
 not taken tlie trouble to put those sheets apart from the rest. Very many more 
 had been sent to the military Hospital to be washed, and that institution 
 being in the hands of the Prussians, those universal appropriators had kept 
 them all. A strong remonstrance induced the return of a few. As for shirts 
 and other linen, they shared the same fate; bale after bale was opened and 
 the contents used, but very few ever came from the wash. Indeed, the want 
 of a proper system of lauiidry was one of the worst features of this great 
 Ambulance. But as there was a storekeeper, whose business it should have 
 been to have seen to the return of the linen, clean and in good order, to the 
 store, no one else had a right to interfere. I had brought out, as I have said, a 
 few private stores, and I was very thankful that among them were half a 
 dozen bottles of sherry; for I distrusted the water very much, especially after 
 Louise's tale, how disagreeable it was when she went there, three days 
 before I arrived, so much so that she avoided touchirig it. Several of the 
 young men however, were ill, and the water grew worse and worse. At last 
 they resolved to search the well, and foimd three dead Zouaves.* The water 
 after that went by the name of 'Eau de Zouaves.' And this said sherry, too, 
 was the cause of much refreshment to several weary travellers who came by 
 that way, on business or pleasure bent; for tlie Caserne Asfelde became the 
 great sight of Sedan. It is not for me to enter into any medical details. Mr. 
 McCormac's book,t just published by Churchill, does that. 
 
 I will simply give our impressions of the Ambulance. Caserne Asfelde 
 was a barrack. A long corridor ran down it, opening on a central staircase, 
 the wards lying on each side; the walls were whitewashed, and the floors, 
 asphalte, very difficult to keep clean, the water settling in the small holes of 
 the asphalte; and no sanitary arrangements whatever. But there was a free 
 current of air through every ward, and plenty of clean linen, and these 
 make up for many deficiencies. The chief. Dr. Marion Sims, was a charming 
 
 Algerian infantrymen in the French army 
 
 t William MacCormac. Notes and Recollections of an Ambulance Surgeon, being an account of 
 work done under the Red Cross during the Campaign of 1870. viii, 183 p., 7 leaves of plates, illus. 
 London, 1871. Translations: Notizen und Erinnerungen eines Ambulanz-Chirurgen. Hannover, 
 1871. Souvenirs d'un chirurgien d'ambulance , Paris, 1872.
 
 LOUISE'S LETTER. 127 
 
 American, with courtly manners, and a certain way about him that 
 impressed one at once with his being a man of talent, and not only that, but 
 a man of strong common sense, and the kindliest and merriest of 
 companions into the bargain. Tlien came his colleague, Mr. McCormac, a 
 genial Irishman, a splendid surgeon, and a gentle and sympathising man. 
 
 Pere Bayonne, a Dominican, the Catholic chaplain, must not be 
 forgotten. We often recall his, bright, round, rosy face, his white flannel 
 robe, always spotless in its purity, and leading one to speculate who did his 
 washing, ever ready for duty, equally ready to share in the innocent gaiety 
 of his young friends, his friendly morning greeting, and his loving lament 
 over the lads, 'Good boys! dear boys! if they would only say their prayers, 
 but they never do unless they have got the cholera.' Perhaps the worthy 
 father meant in his own rite; for if ever deeds proved faith it was in the case 
 of the brave and skilfi.il men who formed the Anglo-American Ambulance. 
 Their new chief wronged us much after that; but we have a warm corner 
 still in our hearts for the 'boys' of that ambulance. 
 
 Now, Pere Bayonne was caterer for the second mess, and M. Monod, 
 the Protestant chaplain, was caterer for the third. It was, indeed, a re- 
 union of Christendom in those days of war. M. Monod was a quiet, well- 
 bred, earnest young man, slight and pale. Two greater contrasts could not 
 be to each other titan the Dominican father and the Protestant pastor, yet 
 they lived together as brothers. Then Turco and Charlie must not be 
 forgotten. Charlie was Dr. Sims' black servant, and cook to the first mess; 
 and Turco was a wounded man, properly a prisoner, but adopted as 
 servant by Dr. Pratt, and new christened John. Both were black and 
 amusing, and had a peculiar way of revenging themselves on any 
 assembled coterie they did not like by cooking the dinner most 
 infamously. While Dr. Sims was tliere, Charlie dare not play this prank; 
 afterwards he took a dislike to several members of the mess, and thus 
 revenged himself. I should say they suffered severely, but I was, by order 
 of Dr. Sims, dining out of hospital, and so escaped the infliction; besides, 1 
 had been warned of it, and specially avoided becoming a victim to 
 Charlie's revenge. 1 did dine there one day, by accident, and the mutton 
 was raw and blue. I mildly observed, 'Oh, Charlie, Charlie! you could do 
 better than that,' and Charlie replied, as if it were his full justification, 
 'But, Missus, Charlie did not know you were coming.' 
 
 Every bed in the building was occupied by wounded men, mostly 
 French; whilst cases of fever were traiisferred to the tents. The kitchen 
 arrangements were very poor, no roasting or frying could be done, and the 
 men got tired of perpetual soup and bouillon. No regular diet tables could be
 
 128 LOUISE'S LETTER. 
 
 carried out. They were drawn up and looked very business-like, hanging 
 over the beds, but an attempt to change the hours of the meals and vary the 
 diet was a failure, owing to the fact that the cooks were French prisoners 
 under a military superintendent, and were obliged to return to their quarters 
 by six o'clock, so that the last meal of the day was about four and the first not 
 till 7 A.M. next morniiig, certainly too long an interval. The effort to remedy 
 this, by giving eggs and brandy, sago, milk, and other thiiigs, was iiot, I 
 think, a successful one. French soldiers are not accustomed to so full a diet as 
 we English, and I attribute a good deal of the dysentery and diarrhoea which 
 prevailed to this system being sometimes carried out over zealously. 
 Certainly the laundry and tlie kitchen were our weak points, and unless the 
 plan had been utterly changed, aiid we had had sufficient help to organise 
 them in our way, it was unavoidable. 
 
 It was fortunate, too, that the weather was lovely and the days long, for 
 there were no means of lighting or warming the wards. The Caserne stood 
 very high, 'exposed to all the winds that blew,'* and had the month been as 
 cold as an English September is sometimes, we should have had great 
 trouble in keeping the patients wann. They were all, with one or two 
 exceptions, Roman Catholics; but Pere Bayonne, did not institute any 
 religious services in the wards, nor was Mass ever celebrated there. Every 
 attention was, however, given to the spiritual needs of the dying. On the 
 whole, and considering that it was an Ambulance, formed in a barrack under 
 the circimnstances of being in the midst of a battle and on a battle-field, it 
 went on as well as possible, and the skill aiid attention of the surgeons, the 
 ample supply of linen, medicines, and all extras, fully made up for any minor 
 evils. 
 
 "That tower of strength / Which stood four-square to aU the winds that blew." — Alfred Lord 
 Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington.
 
 CASERNE ASFELDE. 129 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CASERNE ASFELDE. 
 
 To give a detailed account of daily labours in hospitals would be only- 
 wearisome. Very few incidents worth recording occur in the quiet 
 monotony of such work, but a few sketches may interest the reader. One 
 ward was occupied by wounded officers, amongst them several who had 
 served with our army in the Crimea. One of them was a gallant old 
 captain, whose faithful companion, a dog, was allowed to range at will in 
 the Hospital and sleep on his master's bed. A legend was extant that this 
 dog had gone through the Crimean campaign; but as the creature was 
 quite young, and the Russian war some sixteen years ago, the story was 
 evidently apocryphal. What was true was, that the dog followed his 
 master into the battle, and was found watching by him when he was 
 picked up, severely woui'ided, and brought into Sedan. 
 
 Another was the colonel of a line regiment. He had been shot through 
 the throat, his case was a most interesting one, and his recovery was a feat 
 in surgery. Every care was bestowed upon him by Dr. Sims and Mr. 
 McCormac. The wound was cured , and he accompanied Mr. McCormac 
 to Brussels when the Caserne was finally evacuated; but there, like so 
 many others, he drooped and pined. His regiment were all dead or 
 prisoners, his career blighted, his country lost, for he was too thorough a 
 soldier to believe in raw levies of Gardes Mobiles and Francs-tireurs, and 
 he died of a broken heart. 
 
 Perhaps we saw less of this ward than almost any other, for all the 
 afternoon it was filled with ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Sedan, who 
 came up to visit the officers, bringing with them most unwholesome 
 presents of sweet cakes and bonbons and not very ripe fruit. Tliis was at 
 last put a stop to; but as soon as the officers were all evacuated, by death 
 or removal, the nuisance ceased of itself, for the compassion and interest 
 of the visitors did not extend to the soldiers' wards. I was much surprised 
 on being requested by one lady to take her to a ward farther on, where a 
 soldier was now placed who had been changed from some other room; 
 but the secret came out as we went along, for she explained that the young 
 man was a nobleman in disguise, or rather in the ranks, and therefore was 
 evidently, in her eyes, a fitting object of sympathy, in spite of his soldier's
 
 130 CASERNE ASFELDE. 
 
 coat and worsted epaulettes. The wards were divided amongst the 
 English ladies nursing there, and under them were male and female 
 Infirmiers. The latter were, as, a rule, idle and too fond of gossiping with 
 each other, whilst any extra work, in the way of a thorough wash down of 
 the floors of the wards, required a great exertion of stern decision to 
 enforce the Doctor's orders. The night-watch was taken by two Sisters of 
 the Order of the Immaculate Conception, whilst during the day we were 
 assisted by two sisters of the Order of Little Sisters of the Poor. 
 
 Some days after our arrival. Dr. Webb requested the services of two of 
 the English ladies with that part of the Ambulance serving at Balan, and 
 two accordingly went there. About ten days afterwards arrived a 
 clergyman with two Protestant Sisters. Their dresses were, if possible, 
 more conventvial than those of the French. Sisters, whose astonishment at 
 hearing that these good ladies were not members of their Church was 
 excessive. The German Protestant Deaconesses they could understand, 
 but not these Sisters, and poor Pere Bayonne gave it up in despair. After I 
 had tried for half an hour to elucidate the matter, he only shrugged his 
 shoulders and observed, 'But why do they dress to imitate real Sisters!' 
 Now, these good ladies had not been requested to come to Caserne 
 Asfelde; however, their services were accepted in lieu of those of our 
 ladies who were gone to Balan. 
 
 It so happened on the day of their arrival that I had left the Hospital 
 about four o'clock, and feeling very ill had gone down to the Croix d'Or, 
 and to bed. Louise came about eight, and related their arrival and the 
 difficulties about their sleeping in Hospital. They had wanted a room to 
 themselves, but that was impossible; so they had to make up a couple of 
 beds in the general sleeping-room, making four in a very small space, and 
 she hoped they would be comfortable. Next morning she went up to the 
 Hospital, as usual, early, and I followed about noon. I found things 
 anything but comfortable. The good Sisters had never undressed, and 
 whether that was a conventual custom, or merely because they would not 
 unrobe in the presence of seculars, no one could decide; but certainly this 
 could not go on long. To come out of wards full of bad odours in those 
 heavy serge dresses, bringing with them that faint Ambulance smell 
 which is so sickening, and not to change them day or night, would be a 
 sure means of infection. Besides, they had breakfasted at the ladies' mess, 
 with Dr. Marion Sims at the head of the table, and though the 
 conversation was purposely kept as quiet and toned down as much as 
 possible, they had requested separate meals, on the ground that it was 
 frivolous, and, to crown all, they had been utterly shocked and horrified at
 
 CASERNE ASFELDE. 131 
 
 finding a man's cap flung hastily down on one of their beds by Mr. 
 Parker, who, as an old friend, had liberty before breakfast to wash his 
 hands in the general sleeping-room of the ladies (which was used by day 
 as a dining room). 
 
 It was so evident that they could not get on there, in such a rough, 
 rambling way of living, that I asked Mr. McCormac to send for our own 
 two ladies to come back, and to send these good Sisters to take their 
 places. He quite agreed, and goiiig into the wards, I was confirmed in my 
 opinion of the wisdom of the change, by finding that one at least spoke 
 little or no French, and in the course of the afternoon the exchange was 
 effected, in spite of a violent opposihon on the part of their spiritual 
 director (a clergyman of the Church of England who acted as their 
 chaplain), who could not or would not see how much better it was they 
 should work under their own Mother Superior, who was at Balaii herself, 
 and how unsuited they were for campaigning. They were most valuable 
 nurses there, where all was quiet and the patients were few, and did 
 splendid work; but their wonderful unadaptability to circumstances, their 
 want of pliability, so to speak, and conforming to the actual position, offer 
 a strong contrast to the admirable manner in which, as we afterwards saw, 
 the sisters of St. Aignan at Orleans could put aside their conventual habits, 
 as far as was necessary, and found their rules as rules should be, of 
 leather, not of iron, when Sisters have rough work to do. 
 
 Twice all our French Infirmiers were taken away as prisoners. 
 Throughout the war, the Germans showed a singular disregard of the 
 terms of the Geneva Convention, and when remonstrated with prided 
 themselves upon it, saying, 'Very true, you have the right, but we have 
 the might.' To assert that these Infirmiers were soldiers simply, after they 
 had been made assistants in Hospital, was absurd; they were all unarmed, 
 of course, and might have been left till the Ambulance departed. But no; 
 they were marched off at an hour's notice. The wounded, too, were 
 evacuated long before they were in a fit state to travel. At this time, 
 Mezieres, about twelve miles off, was still in French possession, and to 
 this little city the poor fellows were sent, and from thence transferred to 
 the towns in the north of France. 
 
 I cannot say that much consideration or kindness was shown by the 
 German officials. They were the masters, and they made every one feel it. 
 
 The windows of the Caserne commanded a lovely view. Below us lay 
 the town of Sedan, the blue river Meuse winding through it, crossed by a 
 light iron-railed bridge. In a yard just beyond it were the captured
 
 132 CASERNE ASFELDE. 
 
 mitrailleuses* guarded by a couple of sentinels only. In the distance there 
 were the rising hills, covered with trees and verdure, where the Prussian 
 batteries had been planted, and in the valley between, houses and farms 
 scattered here and there, conspicuous among them the Chateau Bellevue, 
 where Napoleon passed liis last night as Emperor. 
 
 The Meuse looked very fair to see, but the fish were all dead in its 
 poisoned waters, and I was surprised one day to see some men apparently 
 fishing from the bank. 'What can they be fishing for?' I asked my 
 companion a German officer. 'They are fishing for eagles,' he answered. I 
 looked puzzled, and he explained that they were fishing for the brass 
 eagles which had adorned the shakos and helmets thrown into the river, 
 and though the head-gear was ruined, when found, the brass ornaments 
 were valuable. Day after day we saw carts full of rusty chassepotst come 
 in from the country round, for a strict order had been issued by the 
 Prussians that all weapons found in the fields should be brought to the 
 Bureau of the Commandant de Place, under pain of fine and 
 imprisonment. Tliey seemed innumerable, aiid they must, by their dirty, 
 rusty look, have been abandoned during the retreat into Sedan, for those 
 given up there by the prisoners were bright and clean. 
 
 On the same day, I went with this officer to get a pass for a carriage to 
 Carignan, where there was an Ambulance we wanted to see, and in the 
 street we met one of the Johanniter Ritters, or Knights of St. John, who 
 asked my friend if he had heard of the arrival of port wine from some 
 'Merchants of the London Docks.' There was evidently a great deal of it, 
 and the Knight said it had been sent for the sick and wounded, but really 
 as for giving it amongst the Ambulances, it was nonsense. It was far more 
 important to keep the soldiers who had to fight in good health, and he 
 was going to distribute it amongst certain regiments who were going 
 forward. I told our storekeeper when we came back, and he agreed that 
 we were fully entitled to a share of the gift; it would be most acceptable. 
 Good wine was very scarce, and he would go and apply for some. 
 Apparently his application, if made, had no result, for we never saw a 
 
 The mitrailleuse consisted of thirty rifle barrels grouped together, loaded by means of a 
 cartridge-filled rack. Turning a crank fired each of the barrels in turn at 150 rounds per minute. 
 The weapon, mounted on an artillery carriage, was accurate at ranges out to 2,000 metres. 
 
 t A breech-loading rifle invented by Antoine Chassepot. The French army adopted it in 1866 but 
 failed to make good tactical use of its advantages. The chassepot rifle could be loaded and fired 
 more quickly than the Germans' Dreyse needle gun. and its effective range of 400 metres was 
 twice as great. Both rifles used a paper cartridge containing an igniter cap at the base of the bullet, 
 and both had a needle-like firing pin that pierced the paper and travelled through the powder to 
 crush the cap against the bullet, thus igniting the round.
 
 CASERNE ASFELDE. 133 
 
 bottle in the hospital. It probably went to strengthen King William's 
 Uhlans as they rode forward on their way to Paris. 
 
 The stores of linen which Mr. Adams had brought from Putney were 
 of the greatest use. They were good, and mostly new. Very much sent out 
 by various Committees was old, and would not bear washing, and much 
 was oddly chosen. We had many a laugh over the singular articles sent 
 out, even including women's apparel. But indeed we had such a quantity 
 of stores, that I am afraid it tended to waste and extravagance. Good wine 
 was a difficulty. On one occasion Dr. Frank sent in from Balan an urgent 
 request for some. There was none in Hospital, and I gave his messenger 
 twenty-three bottles of very good claret,* which had been given to me for 
 our own special needs. This was to be paid back to me; but when I left 
 Sedan fifteen bottles were still owing to me by the storekeeper, and I 
 never had one word of thanks for having given all the wine I had to Dr. 
 Frank. Thanks were not needed, it was not given for that; but a little 
 gracious courtesy between fellow-workers is surely a great point at such 
 times. Dr. Frank probably never knew where it came from, and his envoy 
 was by no means what inight be called a gentlemanly man. 
 
 Diiring the month we were at Sedan we had an almost unbroken 
 series of cloudless weather, only one day of rain. The Prussian bands 
 sometimes played in the Place Turenne, and the French population 
 listened, half sulky, half admiring. 'The Prussians are dogs,' one man 
 remarked to me, 'but the music goes well' (la musique marche bien). 
 There were not at this time the acts of cruelty and violence which 
 afterwards disgraced the German name round Orleans. Very heavy 
 impositions had not yet been inflicted. The war was more civilised and 
 humane, and had it ended there the Prussian laurels would have been 
 untarnished; but war has a degrading effect on character, and when we 
 met at Orleans the German troops we had seen near Metz and Sedan the 
 change was a sad and terrible one, and the next generation will feel the 
 effect of their fathers having led a buccaneer life in France, whilst the little 
 children of the vanquished are learning at their mother's knee stern 
 lessons of vengeance and hatred. 
 
 Sedan was, however, a melancholy residence. No papers were 
 published, no letters sent or received. All we got came to the nearest 
 frontier town of Bouillon, and were brought on by private hand. That 
 wonderful institution, the Feld-Post, had not yet developed its marvellous 
 capacity for not conveying letters. Confiding souls were not betrayed into 
 
 A dry red wine produced in the Bordeaux region of France.
 
 134 CASERNE ASFELDE. 
 
 trusting to its tender mercies, and we only gained glimpses of the outside 
 world now and then. There was a pause in great military operahons. 
 Paris was invested,* but no important sorties had taken place, and Metz 
 was still surrounded by the troops of Prince Frederick Charles. It was the 
 hush before the storm, the end of tine first act of that great drama, and the 
 days went quickly on. Now and then the gates of the city were shut very 
 early. There were flying rumours of some French column, coming by this 
 road or the other, to retake Sedan, but with what object it was impossible 
 to tell. The country was occupied by the German troops, and the place, if 
 taken, not defensible. It was possibly because the towns were useless to 
 the plans of the French Generals, or else it was strange that places left with 
 such small garrisons were allowed to remain in the enemy's possession. 
 Being only women, not generals in command of great armies, we saw 
 many things that puzzled us, as not being in accordance with common 
 sense, as we thought; but doubtless they were all right. 
 
 All the French prisoners had been sent away by the end of the second 
 week in September, and very few German troops remained. Stray tourists 
 visited the place, but the omnibus service from Bouillon was not yet 
 reorganised. The railway communication was at an end, and there were 
 great difficulties in getting to Sedan from the nearest station. But now and 
 then came some bound on a sad errand, to search for the lost and loved. 
 One was an old army surgeon of the First Empire, still dressed in the blue 
 long-tailed coat, with crimson facings and huge gold epaulettes, and the 
 enormous cocked hat of half a century ago. His only child, he told me, 
 had been dangerously wounded in the knee. 'A captain, Madame,' he 
 said, in answer to my enquiries, 'and a decore.t He has been well nursed 
 here in a private family; but his mother pines to see her boy again, and I 
 have come, Madame, yes, all the way from near Marseilles, to take him 
 back to his mother. And they told me these Prussians love uniforms, so 
 behold, I have put on the dress I wore so long ago. It is handsome still, is 
 it not, Madame? It will enforce respect.' Poor old gentleman, it made the 
 tears well up to look at the faded uniform, and the tarnished lace, and the 
 grey head, and think of the dying soldier, for dying he was, and the 
 mother waiting till her husband brought back their 'boy.' I hope he died 
 in his southern home, with his head on tliat tender mother's breast. 
 
 Yet sadder still was the mission of an English officer. His daughter 
 had been betrotiied to a Saxon gentieman, who, summoned to rejoin his 
 
 Besieged. 
 
 t Recipient of a medal.
 
 CASERNE ASFELDE. 135 
 
 regiment, left England and his bride-elect at twenty-four hours' notice. He 
 fell in his first battle, shot through the heart, and the poor girl's father had 
 come to search for the body and take it back to Saxony. It was found, and 
 it was a relief to know that death must have been instantaneous. No 
 lingering agony upon the field or in Hospital. Death had been more 
 merciful, and this was all the consolation the father could take back to his 
 sorrowing child; yet that was much. A simple gift of cigars had been sent 
 by her to be given to Saxon soldiers. They were left in my care. I sought 
 out an Ambulance where there were wounded Saxons, and the trust was 
 faithfully fulfilled. Such little incidents drifted up like spars from a wreck. 
 Multiply this grief by hundreds and thousands of cases, and you will have 
 one idea of war. For every soldier has a home and parents. Possibly 'a 
 nearer one yet, and a dearer one,'* wife or bride. It is a trite remark, but 
 do we realise the force of it when we read of so many thousands 'killed 
 and woimded'? There is one mourner at least for every one of that 
 number — one hearth desolate for ever. 
 
 Sedan was at one time encumbered with thirty thousand wounded, 
 that is, including the villages immediately around. Fever and diarrhoea 
 were very prevalent, especially amongst the Bavarian troops, who ate 
 large quantities of unripe grapes and apples. An application was made by 
 a physician of colour. Dr. Davis, of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, t who had 
 established a hospital just across the Meuse for the services of Louise and 
 myself in his Ambulance, not so much to nurse the sick (he had no 
 wounded), but to see that the German orderlies did their duty, and to 
 prevent the entrance of green fruit. If his German orderlies were as idle 
 and as inefficient, though kind and good-natured, as those we had 
 afterwards at Orleans, he must have had hard times of it. Dr. Davis died 
 of small-pox,$ about two months afterwards, at Pongy-sur-Meuse, where 
 he had his Ambulance, beloved, and mourned by all who had ever come 
 in contact with him. These Infirmiers went about with brassards on their 
 arms and weapons by their sides, were drilled and taught as soldiers 
 ready to take their part in any emergency, and expected to be waited upon 
 as if they were generals. In short, the Ambulance corps of the German 
 
 * "Had she a brother? / Or was there a dearer one / Still, and a nearer one / Yet, than all other?" — 
 Hood's The Bridge of Sighs 
 
 t This Lx)ndon hospital, almost always nicknamed 'Bart's,' was founded by of King Henry I's 
 favomite courtiers. who fell ill with malaria while on a pilgrimage to Rome. He saw a vision of 
 St. Bartholomew after vowing to build a hospital for the 'recreacion of poure men' if he recovered. 
 
 t A highly infectious disease characterized by high fever and subsequent widespread eruption of 
 pimples that blister and form pockmarks. A smallpox epidemic during the years 1870-72 killed 
 44,840 in England and Wales.
 
 136 CASERNE ASFELDE. 
 
 army was a very large and powerful body, and, as the children would say, 
 'looked for all the world like soldiers,' and their own surgeons were 
 certainly sometimes in awe of them. We remarked everywhere during the 
 war the vast proportion of German wounded. It was so near Metz, at 
 Sedan, and afterwards at Orleans. Tlieir losses must have been enormous. 
 Will a true statement be ever published? Perhaps not. They do not care to 
 show at what a costly price victory may be purchased.*
 
 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 137 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 
 
 Day after day passed on, unvaried by aiiy startling incidents. Death 
 carried off many a poor fellow, in spite of care and nursing, and the 
 Hospital became gradually emptied. The tents were taken down, and at 
 last so few patients remained that they were all accommodated on the 
 upper floor, and many of the surgeons and nurses left. Pere Bayonne was 
 superseded at last, though the first attempt to replace him by a Jesuit 
 priest resulted in a ludicrous scene. The good father was sitting outside 
 the entrance-door, chatting with some of the 'boys' and smoking his 
 afternoon cigar, when a thin, spare, ascetic-looking priest in black came up 
 the hill, and announced himself to his reverend brother as being sent by 
 the Archbishop of Rlieims to take the duty of chaplain there. Pere 
 Bayonne remarked that the said Archbishop had nothing to do with him. 
 He did not belong to his diocese. He had been attached to the Ambulance 
 as chaplain before it left Paris, and intended to remain with it. The black 
 priest grew excited, and said then he would go himself to the Archbishop 
 of Paris and obtain the order to do duty instead of Pere Bayonne. The 
 worthy Pere chuckled, and replied, 'Pray do; go and look for him amongst 
 the Prussian bayonets.' At this defiance the other grew more angry still, 
 and high words ensued. At last one of the 'boys' suggested an appeal to 
 arms, or rather fists, and Pere Bayonne, entering into the spirit of the 
 scene, began to turn up his white flannel sleeves; on seeing which the 
 Jesuit fled down the hill, and declined the combat. Pere Bayonne 
 remained till Dr. Marion Sims left, and went to Brussels with him, having 
 arranged to rejoin the Ambulance when it took up fresh groimd. The 
 service as chaplain was done by two of the priests from the city, but the 
 father's rival never returned again. 
 
 About the end of September I spent one day in going round the 
 villages on the battlefield of Sedan. Balan and Bazeilles were too sadly 
 familiar to me, and both were still desolate and deserted. No attempt had 
 been made in either to repair damages; though in Bazeilles two or three 
 families were living on the ground-floor of their houses, having put up a 
 piece of sail to replace the ceiling and roof. More utter wreck and ruin
 
 138 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 
 
 could not be seen. The little town must be entirely rebuilt before its 
 industrious and once thriving population can return to it. Whatever share 
 the inhabitants may have taken in the battle, surely their punishment was 
 a savage one. It was often called in France the great crime of the war, and 
 certainly nothing equalled it, Chateaudun excepted. La Chapelle, La 
 Moncelle; and all the villages showed traces of the 'work of war.' Many 
 houses had been destroyed by bombs, the churches occupied by the 
 wounded, and almost every tenable house turned into an Ambulance. It is 
 honourable to the people of that neighbourhood, indeed all over the seat 
 of war, that no credible accounts have ever been published of any ill- 
 treatment of German wounded by the poor, miserable villagers. Amidst 
 all their natural feelings of irritation against the invader, they never forgot 
 the sacred duty of kindness to the wounded, and not only refrained from 
 all acts of violence, or even annoyance, but, on the contrary, gave their 
 best efforts to aid the sufferers. Many impoverished themselves in this 
 noble cause, but no pecuniary acknowledgment has ever been made by 
 tlie German Government of these disinterested services. Perhaps they 
 were included in the 'rights of a conqueror,' as were so many other things. 
 
 We passed by the plateau of Floing, where the White Cuirassiers and 
 the Imperial Guard fell en masse together. The road beyond dips down 
 towards the Meuse, but on the north side rises abruptly; here and there 
 are gorges, and in one, which opens out towards Sedan, are the villages of 
 Givonne, La Chapelle, La Moncelle, and Illey.* In the deep descent of the 
 road the greatest slaughter had occurred; the fire of the batteries had 
 destroyed friend and foe alike. A month had passed since that fatal day, 
 but the traces of the battle were visible still. Men and horses had been too 
 lightly buried, and sad remains of mortality were yet to be seen. In the 
 villages we visited the Ambulances. Tliey seemed well supplied with all 
 necessaries. A few extra comforts were wanting, and a list of these was 
 taken down for Captain Brackenbury, at Arlon, and so perfect were all his 
 arrangements that no doubt the missing articles arrived within a couple of 
 days. Often and often afterwards, amidst the destitution at Orleans, we 
 had to lament that he was not 'Ubiquitous.'t His energy, his decision, his 
 clear judgment, would have been invaluable. The National Society had no 
 servant so indefatigable and trustworthy as Captain Heriry Brackenbury, 
 R.A. 
 
 Dley is in Warwickshire. Illy is intended. That is where the two Prussian armies met to capture 
 Napoleon HI. 
 
 t The motto of his regiment, the Royal Artillery, is "Ubique." translated by cynics as "all over the 
 place."
 
 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 1 39 
 
 At Floing we visited an Ambulance where many wounded were 
 placed in long wooden sheds. Tlie gift of a few cigars was gratefully 
 accepted. Everywhere ruined houses and half-deserted villages showed 
 the ravages of war, but most of the wounded had been removed. Miss 
 Monod's Ambulance was at this time working at Pouilly-sur-Meuse. All 
 through the war this devoted lady and her companions worked hard 
 during danger and privation such as fell to tlie lot of few, and though a 
 French International Ambulance, friends and foes met with equal care and 
 kindness. I trust and believe it was so in all places where there were 
 wounded to be cared for. 
 
 On the 24th of September Dr. Marioii Sims left for Brussels and 
 England, and was succeeded in the joint command with Mr. McCormac of 
 the Anglo-American Ambulance by his son-in-law. Dr. Pratt, to whom he 
 bequeathed his authority and tlie money he had in store. Shortly before 
 this, Captain Henry Brackenbury had paid tl^e Ambulance a visit, and I 
 had had a long conversation with him. When he first ordered our ladies 
 from Donchery to Sedan he had given a written paper into Louise's 
 charge, placing us under the orders of Mr. McCormac (as the English 
 chief), and instructing us, when discharged by him from our duties with 
 his Ambulance, to proceed to Arlon (Captain Brackenbury' s head- 
 quarters), and report ourselves there for further orders. On the occasion of 
 our interview he reiterated this order, and impressed upon me that no 
 one, not the President of the British Society himself, could give us any 
 orders, except through himself, as their appointed agent on the Continent. 
 I told him I was very thankful to know who was our commander, and that 
 all directions he gave should be fully carried out. He expressed liimself as 
 perfectly satisfied with all that had been done, and begged me to write to 
 him if anything occurred to require his aid. Thus our future course was 
 clear. 
 
 After Dr. Marion Sims left, the patients were rapidly evacuated. Only 
 two officers remained — the poor colonel, and a cheerful, contented, merry 
 little captain, whose thigh had been fracttired, and who, though longing to 
 return to his wife and family near Nice, was the most patient and grateful 
 of men. His delight at, and enjoyment of, any little delicacy added to his 
 dinner were charming to behold. He was all alone in a great ward, and so 
 glad when anyone would go and sit with him and chat over his Crimean 
 experiences and the present campaign, so soon ended for him. He told us 
 how he was struck by a ball and fell, how he was dragged into some out- 
 of-the-way stable or barn, with nothing to eat or drink and no surgical 
 attendance, till early next morning came some of the doctors of the Anglo-
 
 140 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 
 
 American Ambulance, and dressed all their wounds, and offered to take 
 the worst wounded back to their Hospital. One of these, a superior officer, 
 declined to go, unless he could have special accommodation — a little 
 room to himself, or something of the sort — and as this could not be given 
 in the crowded state of the Ambulance, he preferred to wait some other 
 chance. The poor captain immediately put in his claim — if only a mattress 
 amongst the soldiers, it would be luxury to him — so he was substituted 
 for the colonel and brought away, to be kindly and skilfully tended with 
 all that science and sympathy could do. The colonel was taken to some 
 other Ambulance; perhaps was placed in a private house. There were 
 many wounded so cared for; but it rendered the discovery of their fate by 
 their friends more difficult, as the general lists were not very correctly 
 kept, and with such a pressure of business, so many deaths, such 
 countless prisoners, such hosts of wounded, it is not to be wondered at. 
 
 In and around Sedan we found a very large proportion of German 
 wounded, and this in spite of their men being transferred to the rear in 
 every case where it was safe to transport them. Dr. Frank's Ambulance at 
 Balan, and near Bazeilles (part of the Anglo-American), is evidence of this. 
 Chateau Monvilliers, where Mrs. Capel established so well-managed a 
 Hospital, had only Bavarians in it; there may have been one or two 
 French, but I think not. It was the same case with Dr. Webb at Balan, also 
 part of our Ambulance. He had all Germans. Dr. Davis, at Pongy-sur- 
 Meuse, had 300 sick and wounded, all Bavarians, and instances of this 
 could be multiplied. At Caserne Asfelde, as I have said, we had almost all 
 French; all French, indeed, after the first few days. The German losses 
 must have been enormous; to judge by these facts, far more than the 
 French. The peasants of the burying parties told us the same, though they 
 added that the Germans buried their dead instantly, and before they 
 buried the French, so that it was impossible accurately to judge of the 
 proportionate loss.* 
 
 The Caserne was emptying fast by this time (the first week of 
 October), and Dr. Pratt went to Brussels to receive his orders from the 
 French International, to which the Ambulance belonged. On his return a 
 meeting was held, and the result was tlie division of the Ambulance into 
 two; one part remaining under the charge of Dr. Pratt, the other under 
 that of Dr. Frank. Louise and myself were selected by Dr. Pratt to 
 
 Final estimates for the Franco-Prussian War are that the German states lost 28,000 dead of 
 wounds and sickness, with 101,000 wounded and disabled. French losses were 156,000 dead; 
 143,000 were wounded and disabled.
 
 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 141 
 
 accompany his Ambulance, with tlie sanction of the British Society, 
 represented by Captain Brackenbury. 
 
 Of the adventures of Dr. Frank and his Ambulance we can tell 
 nothing. The All Saints Sisters* accompanied it. Tliey went to Brussels, 
 and from thence to Chalons and Epernay, in the German lines; whilst our 
 orders were to go into Paris, if possible, if not into French lines — a very 
 fair division of assistance, as it seems. By the Society's accounts. Dr. Frank 
 received some 7,000/. from the British Society. Assuredly 700/. would 
 more than represent what Dr. Pratt received from them; but then, as his 
 Ambulance was also borne on the books of the French Society, he was not 
 entitled to so much. Still, the disparity is enormous. 
 
 Mr. McCormac gave Louise and myself our discharge, in compliance 
 with Captain Brackenbury' s orders, and we went to Arlon to report 
 ourselves, and obtain the necessary sanction to continue with Dr. Pratt's 
 portion of the Anglo-American Ambulance. I had written to the Chairman 
 of the Executive Committee (Colonel Loyd-Lindsay) to tell him we were 
 leaving Sedan, were asked to accompany Dr. Pratt, and to beg him to 
 speak to Captain Brackenbury about it, who was for a few days in 
 England. At Arlon I received a telegram to say it rested entirely with 
 Captain Brackenbury, who we found was expected that night. Mr. Capel 
 was there in charge, but he preferred our seeing Captain Brackenbury. 
 Meantime the Ambulai"ice had taken a shorter route to Brussels, and we 
 were somewhat anxious for the decision, which we fully intended to abide 
 by. If I relate this in full, it is only because we have, I believe, been accused 
 of 'insubordination.' There was none. We never disobeyed an order; and if 
 there was misunderstanding as to orders, it simply arose from the 
 Committee's confused idea as to whose authority was supreme — their 
 own, or Captain Brackenbury' s, or the Chairman's, or the Secretary's, or the 
 Executive Committee, or everybody in general and nobody in particular — 
 for to this day we have not the slightest idea. We believed Captain 
 Brackenbury, he evidently believed so too; but we were afterwards 
 imdeceived. However, on this occasion we waited for his arrival. 
 
 Early next day a telegram arrived from Brussels formally requesting 
 our services with the Anglo-American Ambulance. Captain Brackenbury 
 
 * Members of an Anglo-Catholic community of nuns. Their work in the Franco-Prussian War is 
 recorded in a diary on pages 207-270 of All Saints Sisters of the Poor: An Anglican Sisterhood in 
 the Nineteenth century. Edited by Susan Mumm. xxviii. 280 p. Boydell & Brewer. 2001. 
 I do not think that this diary is the same as the British Library holding: The Narrative of my 
 Experiences as a Volunteer Nurse in the Franco-German War of 1870-1. By A[nne] Thacker. 
 With a sketch of her life by J. M. Menzies. pp. 92. London, 1897.
 
 142 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 
 
 had not been found in Brussels, and Mr. Capel kindly took it upon himself 
 to give the requisite order in the Captain's absence, whom we hoped to 
 see at Brussels. We telegraphed this back to Dr. Pratt and started for 
 Brussels. At the station Dr. M'Kellar met us. Captain Brackenbury had 
 been seen, and had sent a note giving his full consent and attaching us for 
 service to the Ambulance, not stipulating for any particular place or 
 period of time, and to this hour that order remains uncontradicted. 
 
 I annex the two orders:— 
 
 Arlon, Oct. 6. 
 
 In the absence of Captain Brackenbviry, and at the request of Dr. Pratt, 
 as per telegram of to-day, I authorise Miss Pearson and Miss McLaughlin 
 to join the Ambulance now headed by him, and tliey are at liberty to 
 proceed to Brussels whenever they think proper. 
 
 'REGINALD CAPEL.' 
 
 Brussels, Oct. 6. 
 
 Dear Miss Pearson, — I have just seen Dr. Pratt, and was in the act of 
 telegraphing to you to come here to join the Anglo-American Ambulance. 
 Dr. M'Kellar now shows me your telegram. Pray go on with the 
 Ambulance, as you wish it and Dr. Pratt wishes it. Miss McLaughlin will 
 also be with you. I wish you every success. I remain yours faithfully, 
 
 'HENRY BRACKENBURY.' 
 Thus all was done in compliance with orders from the very first. 
 
 Brussels looked gay and full, crowded with French refugees. We went 
 to see the stores of the French International Society, and they seemed very 
 scanty compared with the profusion of our own. We had an interview 
 with Captain Brackenbury, who was all that was kind and courteous. He 
 said he did not believe we should obtain pennission to pass into Paris, but 
 he thought we should find plenty of work in the immediate 
 neighbourhood. Our departvire was deferred some twenty-four hours, 
 owing to the difficulty of getting on the waggons and horses. We much 
 wished to pay Antwerp a visit, but Dr. Pratt requested none of his 
 Ambulance to leave the city; so, like good soldiers, we obeyed our chief, 
 as Dr. Pratt was now, and it was only at 7 P.M. on October 8* that we all 
 left by the railroad for Rouen via Amiens. How to get on farther by rail or 
 road remained to be seen, as changes on the route might occur at any 
 moment, bridges be blown up and roads cut, for Normandy was 
 
 On this day Gambetta made a dramatic escape from Paris by balloon to rally support in the 
 provinces.
 
 UNDER WHOSE ORDERS? 143 
 
 preparing to meet the invader. Amiens was reached at four in the 
 morning, and as the train did not start till 6 A.M. we bivouacked in the 
 station. At ten we reached Rouen, and it was decided that we were not to 
 leave till 6 P.M., and get as far as St.-Pierre-au-Louviers, where the traffic 
 ceased, sleep there, and proceed next morning by road via Dreux to 
 Versailles. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 144 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 OUR ADVENTURES 
 
 DURING THE 
 
 WAR OF 1870. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 ♦<>♦ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 
 
 Our baggage waggons and horses were all duly transferred from the 
 station we arrived at to the station we started from across the river, and 
 here, whilst lounging in tlte waiting room, we caught sight of a gentleman 
 sitting at a table writing, and he had one of our English brassards on his 
 arms.* A courier came in and out, and there was evidently a hitch in their 
 business. Some of our party fell into conversation with him, and his story 
 offered an amusing illustration of the old proverb of sending 'the hook 
 after the hatchet. 't The National Society had become aware of sundry 
 boxes and bales dispersed about the country, and had sent out a courier to 
 find them, get them together, and take them on to Versailles. Why, when 
 so much unpaid service was at their command, they preferred to pay 
 hired servants, I do not know. In this case, certainly not because of 
 superior qualification for the work, for the little man could not carry out 
 his directions, and on telegraphing home to the Committee this gentleman 
 was sent out to assist him. The stray baggage had been got together, but 
 fresh difficulties arose. Fearful tales of the depredations committed by 
 Francs-tireurs were flying about, and it appeared that to take baggage 
 intended for the German lines through Normandy was a hazardous 
 proceeding. Fortunately for this gentleman, our Ambulance was a French 
 one, with French Infirmiers, and at tliat time welcomed everywhere as 
 true to France, and Dr. Pratt very kindly offered to throw the shelter of his 
 
 More likely the gentleman had a red cross brassard on one of his arms. 
 T To throw the helve after the hatchet is to throw away what remains because your losses 
 have been so great. The allusion is to the fable of the wood-cutter who lost the head of his axe in 
 a river and threw the handle in after it. — Brewer's Phrase and Fable. 1 898.
 
 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 145 
 
 protection over the Captain, the courier, and the baggage, and it was 
 arranged they should go on with us, and at St. Pierre find waggons to take 
 their stores. 
 
 We arrived in due tinne at St. Pierre, fomid lodging in a small auberge, 
 and prepared for a journey next day that we were assured would be full of 
 danger. As we saw it next morning, St. Pierre is a prettily situated village 
 with rising ground behind it, and stands on the banks of tlie Seine. Opposite 
 are wooded heights, and the country around was green and fertile. An early 
 start had been arranged, but the Captain had gone off to Louviers, a town 
 about three miles distaiit, of which St. Pierre-au-Louviers was the railroad 
 station, to find some waggons, and we had to wait for his return. 
 
 The people of Louviers must be a hospitable, kind-hearted race, for 
 the evening before, travelling in the railroad carriage with a lady and 
 gentleman of that place, they had pressed us most earnestly not to remain 
 at St. Pierre, but to go on with them and accept supper, bed, and breakfast, 
 and this simply on the faith of our charitable mission; whilst the Captain 
 met with every assistance, and the Mayor himself lent him a wagon and a 
 splendid pair of heavy Norman cart-horses, that could drag any weight. 
 This and another wagon and horses he found there were duly returned 
 from Versailles. 
 
 Whilst waiting for the packing of the baggage on these waggons, it 
 entered into the fertile brain of one of our party to address the gaping 
 villagers who had assembled round the auberge doors in a flowery speech 
 about nothing, which, being delivered in perfect French, with most 
 emphatic action, was irresistibly ludicrous, especially when, pointing to 
 an American banner which was duly displayed out of the window, he 
 declaimed on the reason of there not being a proper number of stars on 
 the blue square in the corner, and being a Southerner, he declared that a 
 great many stars had withdrawn from the assemblage usually displayed 
 on the banner, being ashamed of their company! On this an elderly and 
 respectable individual, who was listening open mouthed to this flow of 
 eloquence, or rather 'bunkum,' went off into a state of despair, dashed his 
 hat on the ground, began to run his hands wildly through his hair, as if 
 about to tear it off, and lamented over the ruin and disunion of 'la grande 
 Republique.' It was some time before we could any of us recover our 
 gravity, and by the time we had done so a start was ordered, and the 
 cortege wound slowly up a lane with deep banks on either side, so like an 
 English lane that it was impossible to fancy we were in France, and so 
 near the seat of war.
 
 146 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE." 
 
 At Rouen we had seen crowds of men drilling, dressed in their 
 civilian clothes, the black coat of the gentleman side by side with the linen 
 blouse of the artisan; but very little progress seemed to have been made in 
 the arming of them, for old flint-lock muskets abounded. Nor was there a 
 general uprising in the outlying villages. Normandy was hardly awake, 
 and e\'erything looked peaceful and dreamy. We reached at last the level 
 plateau above St. Pierre, and joined the route Imperiale; and here our light 
 van and store waggons and the gentlemen who were walking came to a 
 stand-shll, for the heavily-loaded waggons of the Captain had stuck in the 
 cross lane we had taken out of St. Pierre, and the horses from the last one 
 were obliged to be attached to the front one and drag it uphill, and then 
 being again unharnessed, all four horses returned to the other waggon 
 and brought it up to the road above. 'Most haste, worse speed,' saith an 
 old proverb. Had we taken the route Imperiale, a mile longer, but nearly 
 level, we should have avoided the hour's delay which ensued. Thus we 
 did not make a fair start imtil 1 P.M. instead of 8 A.M., as originally 
 ordered. 
 
 But whilst waiting the arrival of the Captain and his baggage we had 
 various sources of amusement to pass away the time. First, we sat on a 
 green bank, though the wind was cold, and looked across the valley, 
 through which ran the Seine, to the grand old ruins of Chateau Gaillard, 
 the castle of our lion-hearted king, built in proud defiance of his rival, 
 Philippe-Auguste. It is but a ruin now,* the 'Saucy Castle,' as Richard 
 called it, when it frowned down on the sunny valley and lorded it over the 
 silver Seine. It has its legends, too, of fair, frail queens who lived in 
 durance there, and one. Marguerite de Bourbon, the faithless wife of Louis 
 X., ended here her sinful life by the executioner's hands,t and here the 
 exiled David Bruce found a shelter when banished from his northern 
 
 It remains beautiful and most impressive; 40-minute conducted tours most days. 
 
 t In 1308 Philippe le Bel bought Hotel de Nesle, a palace opposite the Louvre. There lived his 
 three sons, the future Louis X, Philippe V and Charles IV, married respectively to Marguerite de 
 Bourgogne, Jeanne and Blanche (the latter two were sisters and cousins of Marguerite). All three 
 used its tower for their amorous liaisons. One day, Isabelle, Philippe le Bel's daughter and wife of 
 England's Edward II (a McLaughlin ancestor), noticed three gentlemen wearing the three purses 
 she had given the three princesses as gifts. The princesses' lovers were castrated, tortured, 
 decapitated, and hanged by the armpits to be devoured by birds of prey. Marguerite and Blanche 
 were shaved and dispatched to languish at the Chateau Gaillard. In 1315 Marguerite was 
 suffocated there between two mattresses by order of her husband Louis X. who wished to remarry. 
 Blanche was later forced to take the veil. Jeanne, however, after being locked up in another castle, 
 was offered the beautiful Hotel de Nesle by her loving husband. Philippe V, who, moreover, 
 generously passed away in 1322. leaving Jeanne free to lead a life of merry widowhood for the 
 next seven years. — Adapted from Thfrza Vallois' Around and About Paris. Vol. 1 .
 
 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 147 
 
 home.* Twice the 'Saucy Castle' surrendered to the toemaii, on both 
 occasions from famine, once of food, once of water. Roger de Lacy 
 defended it for six months against the French King, Philippe-Auguste, the 
 partisan of Prince Arthur, when that monarch espoused his cause in 
 opposition to that of King John; and later it held out, garrisoned by only 
 150 men, against the forces of Henry V. 
 
 There is an old well still in the courtyard, from which iii those turbulent 
 times water was drawn for the garrison; but the ropes of the bucket were 
 worn out, there were none to replace them, and the brave little band 
 surrendered from thirst, as Roger de Lacy had done from hunger. 
 
 We were looking at the ruin, and wondering what fresh scenes of war 
 and h-imult would pass under its old walls, when a cry was raised, 'The 
 Francs-tireurs!' We sprang up, somewhat curious to see them. Here they 
 were at last, these dreaded brigands; for as such they had been described 
 to us. Would they disregard the Red-Cross baniier, the Union Jack, the 
 Stars and Stripes, and fire upon such a combination of neutrality, if could 
 they see them? To obviate this possibility three of the tallest men were 
 mounted on the roof of the store-waggons and waved the standards 
 conspicuously before the advancing forces, whilst an old peasant we had 
 caught was induced to go back down the high-road and explain our 
 pacific character. It is not to be wondered at that these awful preparations 
 alarmed the Francs-tireurs, and they began to ascend the slope in most 
 martial order. They had been marching at ease, that is, straggling all about 
 and picking apples, but they suddenly fell into column and levelled their 
 rifles, then halted and held a military council. The result was, skirmishers 
 were thrown out two and tw^o into the fields each side, whilst others came 
 creeping up the road, darting from tree to tree, till they came near us. It 
 was really very pretty to see, and Louise and myself, feeling all confidence 
 in our female costume, stood in the road watching the advance. Probably 
 our peaceful looks were reassuring. We did not seem ferocious and had 
 no revolvers, the flags were duly visible, so they became reassured, called 
 in their skirmishers by sound of bugle, and marched at ease up the hill. 
 We spoke with several of them. One poor, footsore fellow pleaded hard 
 for 'a lift,' but it was too dangerous. Had we met any German patrol, to 
 have had a Franc-tirevu: with us would have been deeply compromising, 
 and we were obliged to refuse. 
 
 * After many Scots sided with England, the Scottish king David Bruce went into voluntary exile. 
 In 1341 he returned from France to reclaim his throne but was captured and spent the next 12 
 years as a prisoner at the court of Edward HI.
 
 148 -LA BELLE NORMANDIE. 
 
 We soon after started on our way, and at the first village we passed 
 through we over took them. They had got some hot hard boiled eggs, 
 with which they presented us, and so terminated our first interview with 
 the dreaded Francs-tireurs. They seemed to us a very superior class of 
 men. In their ranks were several who spoke English very well. Many 
 were landed proprietors, with their servants, gamekeepers, and foresters. 
 They were well dressed and well armed, and all wore a holly leaf in their 
 caps.. We asked the meaning and were told it referred to an old Norman 
 proverb, ' Qui me touche se pique' (who touches me gets pricked); and 
 assuredly they well maintained tlie motto of the holly leaf. From no class 
 in the whole army did the Germans suffer so much as from tlie Francs 
 tireurs, the 'Landsturm'* of France. 
 
 We slept at Vernon, but here an adventure occurred which might have 
 had serious consequences to two of our party, Mr. Ryan and Mr. Fiayden. 
 Mounted on horses as outriders, Dr Pratt sent them forward to order 
 dinner and beds. On coming near the town a party of over-zealous Gardes 
 Mobiles met tliem, arrested them as Prussian spies, and took them to their 
 barrack. In vain Mr. Hayden pleaded he was a medical student from 
 Paris, even saw one of his own friends in the crowd, a young officer, who 
 bore witness to the truth of this; nothing would satisfy the Mobiles, some 
 of whom were drunk, and all disorderly, and at last they marched their 
 prisoners off, ordering them not to put their hands in their pockets, 
 fearing probably they had revolvers in them, and so took them to the 
 Mairie. Here their passports and papers proved their innocence, and they 
 were released after two hours' annoyance. As we drove into Vernon, we 
 were greeted with the news that two of our party were in prison. 
 However, on arriving at the hotel, we found them there, safe and well, 
 superintending supper, not the worse for their detention. 
 
 We saw nothing of this Norman town, which gives its name to a good 
 old English family,t as we left early next morning. Here we heard that 
 Dreux was burning. We could not possibly pass that way or by Evrevix, so 
 we went on to Mantes. The country about here was lovely. The road 
 wound round a projecting bluff, through which the railroad runs to the 
 village of Bonnieres, a bright, cheerful-looking place with a broad, steep 
 main street, and past Rosny, the birthplace and home of SuUy.t The 
 
 Literally "land stonn": German wartime conscripts. 
 
 t William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy, the future William the Conqueror, rewarded Richard 
 de Reviers for loyal service by giving him Vemon-sur- Seine in 1050. From then on, Richard and 
 all his descendants adopted the name of their town. 
 
 t As Henry IV's trusted minister, Due de Sully (1560-1641) improved France's agriculture and 
 infrastructure.
 
 •LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 149 
 
 chateau still exists;* it was the property of the Duchesse de Berri from 1818 
 to 1830, but the grounds around it, though well wooded, are very flat, 
 extending down to the river. 
 
 We halted for luncheon at a little hamlet, and started about four or 
 five, intending to pass on as far as we could. Mezieres would have been 
 our resting-place for the night, but Mezieres was a ruin. Near by some 
 Francs-tireurs or Gardes Mobiles had fired on a body of Uhlans with an 
 aim too fatally true, and next day a strong body of Prussians came in and 
 burned the village, and even whilst the few poor, shivering inhabitants 
 who had come back to cower in their roofless dwellings told us the sad 
 tale, the same scene was enacting only fifteen miles away, and the smoke 
 of a burning hamlet was going up on the night air, to protest in the face of 
 Heaven against war and all its terrors, and against the doctrine that an 
 invaded people must neither practise 'defence nor defiance.' 
 
 It was very sad to drive in the deepening twilight through the long 
 street of Mezieres, to look at the 'comfortable' houses roofless, 
 windowless, floorless, and blackened by smoke, and to think of tlie 
 household misery entailed by war; the little details of families ruined and 
 gone out into distant provinces to seek a shelter. Sadder still to see those 
 who remained crouching round a fire made of the half-burned beams of 
 their own roof-trees, despairing and hopeless. What was peace or war to 
 them? They had lost all! No peace could give them back their happy 
 homes, recall their dead from some forgotten trench on a lost battle-field; 
 no war could inflict on them bitterer suffering. And it was the ambition 
 and pride of Emperor and King, whose very faces they had, perhaps, 
 never looked on, that caused the war; the rifles of men from some other 
 departments, whose acts tliey had never sanctioned, that had brought 
 death to the Uhlans, and all this misery on themselves. War is very 
 merciless. Soldiers forget they are men, fathers, and sons, and brothers. 
 They lose their individuality, and become one vast machine of evil. We 
 had time enough to think over the 'morality' of war, for in the litfle village 
 where we halted for the night the beds were not very conducive to sleep. 
 
 It was a very litfle village, named Fling. We occupied all the solitary 
 auberge, but there appeared no place for the horses and waggons. Our 
 admirable avant-courier,t how ever, informed a sub-official whom he 
 found that he must have places for his horses and Inflrmiers; if not, the 
 
 * It was one of 15 European castles bought in the 1980s by Japanese real estate magnate Kiko 
 Nakahara. In 1996 she was convicted for emptying them of their national treasures of furniture, 
 tapestries, and paintings. 
 t Advance guard.
 
 150 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 
 
 Mayor must be hanged early the next morning, and places were found. 
 We knew it was a joke; but the sub-official was frightened, and the Mayor, 
 being out of town, was apprised of his danger, and next morning the 
 garrison was called out — two National Guards and a half (that is, a very 
 small youth) — to guard his Worship. We did not see that official, but we 
 left Fling with a splendid reputation for honesty and generosity, for we 
 actually paid our bills — a practice too much neglected by the stronger 
 party in time of war. 
 
 We arrived at Mantes about noon, and had time to see the lovely old 
 church of Notre Dame, and after luncheon went on to St. Germain. We 
 drove through the town without a halt, for we were getting very near the 
 German outposts, and came out in the road leading to Versailles. At 
 Mantes our chief had 'required' an omnibus; it was useless there, all 
 traffic being stopped, and his men were all footsore. Our cortege was 
 formed as follows:— Two gentlemen on horse back; four Infirmiers 
 marching together, one carrying the Red-Cross flag; a light covered cart, 
 containing Louise and myself, driven by one of the gentlemen, a Union 
 Jack and a Stars and Stripes on each side of the cart; the store-waggon, 
 driven by Charlie, with Turco Jolm by his side, and a monkey strapped 
 behind. Then the omnibus with the rest of the folks, the Captain's waggon 
 coming last. As we drove out of St. Germain, we emerged on an open 
 road, looking on the left over flat ground, a valley with trees and houses 
 scattered about it, and a huge rock-mound in the distance, crowned by a 
 fortress. 
 
 'There is Mont Valerien,'* said one of our friends, and we looked at 
 the far-famed fort with great cviriosity. Lines of men were manoeuvring 
 on the green slope which descended from the fort to the valley, and as we 
 looked we heard a dull report, a white puff of smoke broke out from the 
 fort, a shell came slowly, with a graceful curve, soaring in the air, to fall in 
 a green meadow some five hundred feet short of us. The earth flew up in 
 a shower, but no further harm ensued. Our driver thought it better, 
 however, to get on, and the fort was soon hid by a wall and a hedge. Still 
 we heard the boom that showed Mont Valerien was at work. Presently we 
 came out again where the road was open to the country round. 
 
 We were jogging quietly on, when one of our outriders galloped up 
 and asked me for the pass which 1 had procured. We had been sent on 
 first because we had it, but no one had asked for it. We had come at a 
 
 The fortified Mont Valerien lies to the West of Paris, the other side of the Bois de Boulogne, 
 near La Defense.
 
 'LA BELLE NORMANDIE.' 151 
 
 brisk trot through St. Germain. It was dinner time, and the officials had 
 not descried us; but just as those unlucky waggons of the Captain's were 
 coming in the rear, some zealous captain of the guard descried them, and 
 demanded what permission they had to go to the front. In vain the 
 Captain explained he was an agent of the British National; it was useless, 
 and tlney had to ride forward for our pass, and we to wait the result — in 
 full view of Mont Valerien. Presently came another shell, a little nearer, 
 then another nearer still. I requested Louise to emerge from the shelter of 
 the back part of the cart and come and look, but she declared it rained and 
 blew, and Mont Valerien might amuse itself as it liked, and she went on 
 working a red and blue slipper in profound composure. Our driver got 
 nervous, and insisted on driving and getting behind a wall. I declared a 
 little wall was no real protection, and we might as well see what was 
 going on; he preferred the back part of the wall, and there we were placed 
 and had to stay. 
 
 I do not for one moment believe Mont Valerien fired at us. There was 
 a sortie from Paris on the side by Bougival. The fort was firing at the 
 Prussians in the fields below, and overshot the mark. As it was, it fell 
 beyond them and short of us, and was very harmless. Shells come 
 comparatively so slowly, that one has time to get over the slight flutter 
 that the first being under fire causes, and, were it not for the danger and 
 destruction they bring about, would be very pretty to watch. 
 
 Presently our rear disentangled itself from the outpost guard and we 
 all went on, but five minutes further another stop occurred. Our driver, 
 anxious to hear what was the matter, left me the reins and walked off. Just 
 as he did so a regiment of Bavarian cavalry came tearing down the road, 
 and our horse, having been in the army himself, showed a most decided 
 inclination to dash after the regiment, and probably involve us in a charge, 
 which, with a cart behind him in which were a goodly amount of bags, 
 saddle-bags, and other small articles, would have been probably more 
 peculiar than successful. Now, it was an awkward position, for this 
 reason. At Sedan, two Infirmiers had been dismissed for dishonesty of the 
 most flagrant description. They had made their way to Versailles, given a 
 false account of their leaving the Ambulance, and been enlisted by the 
 agents of the British Society. They accompanied Mr. Thomas, one of the 
 surgeons of the Society, to Mantes, and there we had met the party, and 
 Dr. Pratt had identified his old acquaiiitances. Mr. Thomas had arrested 
 them, with a view of sending them off as soon as he got back to Versailles, 
 and they were being marched along as prisoners in charge of a stalwart 
 Canadian doctor, armed with a blackthorn stick, and competent to
 
 152 -LA BELLE NORMANDE.' 
 
 manage any two Frenchmen, armed or unarmed. But necessity knows no 
 law. Tlie prisoners were close by, our escorts were not; and though I had 
 aided at Sedan in dismissing them from the Hospital, I was sure they 
 would rescue us, so I swallowed my pride and called out to them. They 
 came instantly to our rescue, and really we were so grateful that, if we 
 could have escaped them on the spot, I almost think we should; as it was, 
 we obtained their release at Versailles. They held well on to the horse's 
 head, and then came another regiment galloping full speed. They turned 
 off just beyond us, down a lane that led into the fields below, but, as we 
 heard afterwards, the skirmish was then over, and the troops we had seen 
 on the green hill side were retreating into the fort; so our impetuous 
 friends could not have had the chance of charging, and we assuredly 
 preferred keeping on tlie high road, and not assisting nolens volens* in 
 such a melee. "f 
 
 Shortly afterwards we reached Versailles, the only French Ambulance 
 that did so, and were greeted at the door of the Hotel des Reservoirs by 
 Captain Furley, Mr. Tliomas, the Admiral, and many old friends. One 
 word more I must say. To Mr. Thomas's kind care we owed it that we 
 found that we had a most comfortable room in the hotel prepared for us, 
 and the Society may well congratulate themselves on the good services 
 done by this gentleman, not only to ourselves — that is a minor matter — 
 but to the wounded of both nations. His bright, cheerful intelligence, his 
 unselfishness, his indefatigable labour, will be, we trust, rewarded by 
 some better recognition than these few lines of a woman's praise. 
 
 * Willy-nilly, willing or not. 
 t Confused struggle.
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 153 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 We had at last arrived at the termination of our wanderings — the King's 
 head-quarters. Here was his Majesty himself, duly installed in the 
 Prefecture*; here was the Crown Prince,t 'Fritz,' as the French called him, 
 and it may be remarked that he was always spoken of by them almost 
 affectionately, and the name was given in no disrespect, but rather in a 
 kind of strange liking for the man who was said by popular report to pity 
 their nation, to hate the war, and to detest Bismarck. He might possibly 
 be suggested as a ruler for France, and with better chance of success than 
 the distrusted ex-Emperor. 
 
 'Fritz is kind,' 'Fritz is a brave soldier,' 'Fritz is a good man,' were 
 common phrases even amongst the wildest of the Zouaves, and his 
 English wife may be proud of her husband's reputation amongst his foes. 
 We speak feelingly ourselves. The Prince may forget an act of kindness 
 shown towards us when we were at Balan; we do not.t Our General rode 
 over to his camp to report our arrival, and related how we had notliing to 
 eat or drink. The Prince's own luncheon had been but a sparing one, and 
 nothing was left; but he found a stone flask of Curasao, and sent it back to 
 us, regretting he had nothing else to offer. It was invaluable. We were 
 faint and hysterical with fasting, and a morsel of bread and a little 
 Cura(;ao were the most delicious meal we ever partook of. 
 
 Besides these great ones of the earth, there was a swarm of little 
 princelings, and amongst them Leopold of Hohenzollern, the innocent 
 cause of this tremendous war. He was a tall, slight, intelligent-looking 
 man, and very popular. His appearance was a great contrast to the heavy 
 
 * County [departement] hall. This one is France's biggest, the Hotel de la Prefecture de Versailles 
 being a beautiful mansion constructed during the Second Empire in place of the King's Kennel. 
 
 t Frederick, Crown Prince of Prussia, (1831-88) son of Kaiser Wilhelm I. He married Victoria, 
 Princess Royal of England, daughter of Queen Victoria. He died after ruling as Emperor 
 Frederick HI for just 99 days — not enough time to dismiss Bismarck from his chancellorship, but 
 that was done in 1890 by William II. 
 
 I The incident is not mentioned in The war diary of the Emperor Frederick III, 1870-1871 
 translated and edited by A. R. Allinson. Reprint: New York 1988.
 
 154 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 look and frame of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg,* Prince Albert's elder 
 brother, and the boyish, weak face of the Grand Duke of Wurtemburg. 
 Their lives at Versailles were easy ones. Tliey ate and drank and slept, till 
 reports got abroad that some were sent back to the rear or on to the front, 
 the King wisely thinking tliem more ornamental than useful in Versailles. 
 
 Dr. Pratt occupied himself in trying for the necessary pass to enter 
 Paris, aided by Generals Sheridan and Burnside,t and that evening we 
 heard ail went well, and we should probably leave for Paris at 3 P.M. next 
 day. We could have no meals in the Hotel, and were obliged to go out to 
 the Restaurant belonging to it. Tliis was very disagreeable, as it was 
 crowded with German officers, and no other ladies there. However, one 
 of the surgeons escorted us, and the scene was decidedly amusing. How 
 everybody ate and drank! How iced champagne flew about! And how 
 very small the dinner was! We had some soup and some donkey — it was 
 gelatinous, and more like calves-head than aiiything elsel — and some 
 sweets, and we paid the full price of a good dinner. 
 
 The next morning, the 13th, at 10 o'clock A.M., we were ordered to 
 meet the Ambulance, and hear the result of Dr. Pratt's request. We were 
 very grieved to find that the prospect of obtaining permission was a very 
 doubtful one. This was awkward. Fully expecting to get leave to go into 
 Paris, Dr. Pratt had brought away no stores. There were plenty in the city; 
 besides, we should not have been allowed to take them in, and the funds 
 were nearly exhausted. It was a question, if we could not go into Paris, if 
 the Ambulance should not be broken up, to be reformed at Tours, within 
 French lines. Dr. Pratt declared that from the neighbourhood of Paris he 
 would not stir, and with the Germans he would not serve, and that we 
 should pitch tents and live close by till we did get in. During this 
 uncertainty he requested none of us to leave the place, so we gave up a 
 visit to an old friend of Louise's at St. Germain — our principle from first 
 to last having been, in great as well as small things, never to disobey 
 orders. 
 
 From Saxe-Coburg-Gotha came Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's husband. Other family 
 members ascended to the thrones of Belgium, Portugal, and Bulgaria. The little known German 
 principality lost in the Thuringian woods had become what Bismarck called "the stud farm of 
 Eurojje." 
 
 t Like General Sheridan. Major General Ambrose Everett Bumside (1824-1881), went to observe 
 the war. but in a private capacity, as he had resigned from the US Army after several failures 
 during the Civil War. (The term "sideburns" originated from his peculiar whiskers.) 
 t It would have been tender and delicious if it had been stewed for eight hours in soy sauce with 
 tens of spices. For more than 100 years diis has been the experience of customers at the Shop of 
 Cao Cooked Donkey Meat, Liaoning Road, (Juanye Bazaar, Tianjin. China.
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 155 
 
 Instead of that we visited the Chateau,* now turned into a great 
 German Ambulance. There were only a few French in it, but French 
 Sisters were the nurses. Of all the terrible places to be ill in, the Salle des 
 Glacest must have been the worst, where every pale face, every contortion 
 of pain, every action of the sick or the nurses, was repeated over and over 
 again. It made one feverish only to think of it, and to look at the glare of 
 the light as it struck on the mirrors. The polished floors were as slippery 
 as glass, and the whole place, magnificent as it was, had a comfortless air. 
 The pictures had been carefully preserved by boarding them up, but the 
 unused part of the Palace was still exhibited at certain hours, and the 
 Germans wandered through those grand halls, looking witli special 
 interest at the pictures of the victories of the Great Napoleon. There was a 
 long ward down below, full of woimded. There almost all the poor 
 fellows had hospital gangrene. 
 
 The Sisters showed us the cooking-place prepared for them to heat 
 their tisanes and plaisters.^ They were over-worked and badly supplied, 
 and begged us to help them, both personally and with stores; but we told 
 them that Prince Pless had received 20,000/. by the hands of Colonel Loyd- 
 Lindsay, from England, only two days before, and surely he could now 
 afford to supply his own great Hospitals handsomely. They only shook 
 their heads, and said that no one thought it would make much difference. 
 It would go to the regimental field hospitals, if to any. That would save 
 the Government paying for them. I asked if she did not think the 20,000/. 
 sent into Paris would do great good. She said, 'In Paris they had plenty of 
 money and stores, and nothing could be bought. The English were very 
 generous; the sum was enormous. She hoped it would do more good than 
 it seemed likely would be done by it.' That 40,000/. represents a great 
 amount of self-denial and charity amongst our English households. They 
 have a right to know how it was spent. Has any account been yet sent in 
 from either Government? Will 20,000/. be deducted from the war 
 indemnity for all expenses demanded by Germany, or will that sum be 
 given to replace furniture ruined in French colleges, convents, and 
 palaces, in nursing German wounded; or will it be given back to England 
 to form the nucleus of some really practical society for Ambulance work 
 amongst our own sick and wounded when next England goes to war? 
 One or the other it ought to be. Let the subscribers look to it. 
 
 * The Palace of Versailles. 
 
 t Hall of Mirrors. 
 
 t Herbal teas and plasters.
 
 156 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 In the evening several friends paid us a visit. All hope of getting into 
 Paris seemed over, and we heard we were ordered to Orleans by Prince 
 Pless; but Dr. Pratt still lingered, professing his dislike to working in 
 German lines, and consenting to do so only because advised, first, that by 
 coming to Versailles the Ambulance had fallen under the orders of Prince 
 Pless, and next that a fortnight's work amongst the German wounded 
 would form a fair plea for permission to go into Paris, or, at all events, 
 leave their lines, and the plan was again discussed of breaking up the 
 Ambulance and re-forming it at Tours. Dr. Pratt ordered us to be ready to 
 start with them next day, and ready we accordingly were. 
 
 All this time we were constantly meeting the members of the French 
 Internahonal, who had a committee-room in the Hotel des Reservoirs. All 
 were most kind to us, especially M. De la Roche and the Baron des 
 Bussieres. But our mainstay was Mr. Furley, who went, as he told us, by 
 the name of 'the Benevolent Neutral.' If ever we had the right to be proud 
 of a countryman, it was of Dr. Furley.* He was a general favourite. Kind, 
 brave, cheerful, unselfish, untiring, peacemaker in general in all little 
 difficulties, Mr. Furley was a sort of patent British Sunshine, quite 
 sufficient to disprove the national French prejudices that we live in a land 
 of fogs, spleen, and suicide. 
 
 That evening, as I was hunting for our door-key in the bureau, a very 
 large Prussian officer stopped me, and asked if we belonged to the Anglo- 
 American Ambulance. I said 'Yes.' 'Why are you not off to Orleans?' he 
 said. 'You ought to have gone this afternoon.' I said he had better find 
 Dr. Pratt, I was simply acting under his orders. He grew furious, and said, 
 'You are under Prince Pless' s orders; you must go at 6 A.M. tomorrow.' 
 Here Louise called to Mr. Furley to hear how a Prussian officer could 
 speak to an English lady, and Mr. Furley kindly stepped forward and 
 said, 'Really, Dr. Pratt had better be spoken to. These ladies are under his 
 command.' The officer pouted, and marched off to see Dr. Pratt. We 
 heard he was a Prince Piegress, or some such name, and always 
 disagreeable after dimier! 
 
 We did not start at six next morning, and things were not pleasant. 
 An aide-de-camp brought word that our presence in the town was 
 displeasing to the German authorities, and he requested we would not 
 
 Sir John Furley (1836-1919), having 6rst witnessed the suffering of the sick and wounded 
 during the Crimean War, was one of the three founders in 1877 of the St. John Ambulance 
 Association. Sir John, knighted in 1899, designed stretchers, ambulances, and hospital trains. His 
 writings include. Struggles and experiences of a Neutral Volunteer, etc. (Vol. 1. In France amongst 
 the Germans. Vol. 2. In and out cf Paris during the Commune. ) London, 1 872.
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 157 
 
 leave the hotel. This sort of polite imprisonment we quietly declined, and 
 went out to the Chateau. In the afternoon Colonel Loyd-Lindsay reti.irned 
 from Paris, accompanied by his valet, who was immediately fallen on by 
 the curious, and closely cross-questioned. Whether it is to him that sundry 
 extraordinary tales of the interior of Paris are owing I cannot say; but we 
 were irresistibly reminded of Mickey Free, in Lever's 'Charles O'Malley'* 
 and the unlucky editor who tried to get the true history of the storming of 
 Badajozt out of that mendacious individual. In short, he related such 
 wonderful tales that the most daring war correspondent durst not 
 transmit them to his editors. 
 
 The Colonel requested to see us, and we humbly waited upon him. 
 He spoke very graciously of our past services, and said he should be sorry 
 to see us connected with a failure; that it was evident the Anglo-American 
 Ambulance must go to pieces, and we had better return to England 'to 
 end the first act of the drama.' We were utterly astounded and replied 
 nothing, and he continued: 'This is my advice to you — indeed, I may say 
 even more.' At this crisis he pulled his moustache, and subsided into 
 silence. We meekly asked how and why we should go home, as we had 
 been distinctly ordered to keep with the Ambulance by Captain 
 Brackeiibury, who alone on the Continent had power, according to his 
 own account, to give us orders, and failing him, our commissions ordered 
 us to obey Prince Pless, and his orders were distinctly that we should go 
 to Orleans. He said nothing, only 'You had better leave to-morrow. You 
 are not being treated as English ladies should be. How will you go?' 
 
 Now, I knew the Colonel was going direct to St. Germain in his 
 carriage, with only his valet, was to sleep there, and go on to Rouen next 
 day. He was going to the very house we should have gone to, the lady 
 being an old friend of Louise's; but I suggested that there was an omnibus 
 went from St. Germain. We had no idea of going in that omnibus, but we 
 wanted to see if he would send two Englishwomen, alone and unescorted, a 
 three days' journey through a dangerous country, and through the lines of 
 two armies, when he was going the same road himself. He said he could 
 take us as far as St. Germain, where we should find the omnibus. We 
 bowed ourselves out, detennined not to be beholden to him for even a five 
 
 * Charles O'Malley: the Irish Dragoon (1841), the adventure-filled, humorous tale about a 
 recklessly brave subaltern and his servant, Mickey Free, by Charles Lever (1806-1872), the once 
 wildly popular Anglo-Irish novelist. 
 
 t In 1812, during the Peninsular War, Badajoz, a Spanish city surrounded by bastioned walls, was 
 captured by British troops in the process of driving the French out of Portugal and Spain.
 
 158 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 miles' lift. We saw Dr. Pratt and Captain Furley about it, who procured us 
 a carriage which cost us 4/. 
 
 Dr. Pratt was terribly cut up at being sent off to Orleans with very 
 little money and sttll fewer stores. We said we had been attached to their 
 Ambulance for service by Captain Brackenbury, that we could not 
 imagine we had been brought from Sedan to Versailles only to be sent 
 back as useless, when so much work lay all around, and we were ready to 
 go on. He said that it was evident, unless money could be obtained, the 
 Ambulance must go to pieces. Tlie English Society's Agent, Captain 
 Furley, could only give him 50/. Major de Havilland had very few stores 
 in hand, Prince Pless had promised some certainly, and he had procured a 
 waggon and two horses to take them on. But that if we would go to 
 England and try to get the leave to enter Paris, tlirough the interest of 
 Count Bernstorff, Mr. Motley, and Lord Graiiville,* we should do them 
 real service. If we could get it we could come back direct to Versailles, and 
 send a special messenger on to Orleans to fetch up the Ambulance, as we 
 should have to enter by the way of Versailles. I said, 'But if we cannot get 
 the permission, what then?' He said, 'That first and most of all; try for 
 nothing till all chance of that has failed. If it is impossible, which I won't 
 believe, get money and stores for us; all you can, from all quarters.' He 
 went on to say, 'Unless we get help we must break up. Loyd-Lindsay 
 wanted us to do so here, but we would rather go on to Orleans, and if we 
 must break up do it there.' He added that a fortnight with those Germans 
 would be quite enough, and if the Ambulance was not permitted to pass 
 into French lines in a body, that they could break up, get through one by 
 one, and re-form at Tours. He implored us to do all we could, to write 
 them up in the papers, to defend them if they were attacked. He told us 
 how grieved he was that we had to go, even if it were on their service, and 
 never by a single word implied that he dispensed with our services then 
 or in the future. He also gave us a written list with the names of all those 
 employed in his Ambulance, and requested us to apply to the British 
 Society to take upon their staff those men who being Americans were 
 borne at present only on the books of the French International. 
 
 We were to go to England to do his business and return when it was 
 done, and of this all his staff were as well aware as we were. That evening 
 we met Prince Pless on the stairs. He told us we were to go to Orleans 
 with the Ambulance; that we were sadly needed; that we should be 
 
 The British Foreign Minister, who had attempted to stop the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian 
 War.
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 159 
 
 received 'with open arms;' and he sent orders for every attention to be 
 paid to us. It was a sad Sunday next day. We proposed starting at noon to 
 pay a visit to Louise's friend at St. Germain. The Ambulance was also 
 preparing to move off to Orleans, and parting in such troubled times with 
 friends is always sad and disheartening; but we were delayed, first by the 
 necessity of getting a safe-conduct for the coachman and horses to come 
 back, and next by the marching down the street of a large body of troops 
 from the army around Metz. We could not break their lines, and had to 
 wait. All our old friends crowded round. Mr. Furley took charge of us to 
 the last. Loyd-Lindsay was there, but he either overlooked us or thought 
 he had been bored enough with our Ambulance and us, for he did not 
 even raise his gold-laced cap. Dr. Pratt asked us to walk aside with him. 
 He reiterated his orders, and said he would write down a list of the stores 
 he required, and we could supplement it with anything else we thought 
 of. He fully authorised us to do that. I said when last in England I had 
 seen the warehouse at the back of St. Martin's crowded with stores. They 
 ought to be able to send any quantity. There being no paper near, I 
 handed him my passport, which was bound up with many vacant leaves, 
 for visas, &c., and on one of these leaves he wrote what stores he wished 
 for. I did not notice he had not signed it, nor, I dare say, did he think of 
 that formality. When we left Sedan to ask for leave to go with his 
 Ambulance, he sent no written request for our services. He did not think, 
 evidently, that the Society's Agents would distrust us, and when Mr. 
 Capel remarked upon it I was somewhat surprised. As I have said, the 
 request came by telegraph afterwards. 
 
 Louise asked him if he had written to his wife. He said, *No; I am in 
 such a state of worry and depression, I camiot. Go to her directly you get 
 back, tell her so, and tell her all about us, and see if she cannot help you at 
 the American Embassy. She knows some of the attaches; she must work 
 for us, too, in aiding you.' He then wrote down her address, and 
 requested us to telegraph or write any news, and to do all as quickly as 
 possible, for their money was falling short. His last words were: 
 'Remember, first of all, leave to enter Paris; failing tliat, money and stores, 
 to get out into French lines, and get our men put on the English staff.' 
 Thus it is most clear to all we came back his authorised agents, and we 
 were further assured, not only by himself but by all his staff, that they 
 expected to see us back as soon as we had got one or other of what they 
 required. 
 
 We shook hands; neither party could say good-bye. We did not 
 dream how we should meet again. It was fortunate that at that instant, as
 
 160 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 
 
 we re-crossed the street to get into our carriage, a ludicrous circumstance 
 diverted us. There stood the waggon and horses ready for Prince Pless's 
 stores, and up came the messenger bringing them. It was not a princely 
 gift. It did not cost much of the 20,000/. given only the day before to buy it. 
 It consisted of two phials, each containing about a couple of ounces, one of 
 opium and one of morphia, and a small box of quinine powders. As an 
 able-bodied child of three would not have been inconvenienced by the 
 weight, it is needless to remark that the waggon was discharged as 
 useless. 
 
 At last we were off, the farewell being from all: 'It is not goodbye — au 
 rezmr," and the final injunction: 'Write us up in the papers.' We had 
 delaved too late to stay at Miss T — 's at St. Germain, very much to our 
 disappointment, so we drove through to Mantes. Captain Furley had 
 asked us to take back upon our box the coachman of the omnibus our 
 Ambulance had 'required' at Mantes, and to give him the advantage of 
 our safe-conduct. Both he and tlie driver suffered dreadfully from fear of 
 the Prussians, but no one interfered with us till we were far through St. 
 Germain. The coachman had just turned round and exclaimed, 'We are 
 saved;' when up rode a body of Uhlans. The officer presented himself at 
 the carriage, and politely asked us whence we came and where we were 
 going. We informed him, from Versailles to England, and produced our 
 pass. He at first declined to look at it, seeing we were only two women; 
 but we insisted upon it. He returned it with the politest of bows, 
 remarked that he wished us a pleasant journey, but he was afraid it-was 
 going to rain, and once more bowing rode off. 
 
 We never in any journey experienced the least trouble or delay, except 
 such as was unavoidable from detention of trains and difficulty of finding 
 means of carriage. From everyone, high and low, French and German, we 
 received all the kindness and assistance possible. No disagreeable 
 adventures ever marred those interesting drives through the invaded 
 country. Uhlan and Franc-tireur alike were guards and friends, not savage 
 foes or impertinent enquirers. Whetlier this was owing to our diplomacy 
 or the absence of the opposite sex, we know not; but the advice we should 
 give, founded on practical experience, is: 'Ladies, when you travel abroad, 
 especially in war, leave the men at home.' If you have husbands, of 
 course they must go with you, and it will be your bounden duty to look 
 after them; but then domestic duties may probably keep you at home. It is 
 only those who have none who should risk life and health amidst such 
 scenes as it was our duty to go through; and then, with no baggage, a 
 knowledge of the language, good temper and forbearance, energy and
 
 THE KING'S HEAD-QUARTERS. 161 
 
 determination, there are no difficulties that any woman cannot get easily 
 through. On the whole, we had every reason to congratulate ourselves 
 that our gallant countryman had not offered us seats in his carriage or his 
 valuable escort. 
 
 We reached England three days before he did, owing to his being 
 detained at Havre by a storm in the Channel, which began to howl around 
 our steamer as she dashed into Dover harbour, the last mail-boat that 
 crossed for twenty-four hours. But this is somewhat anticipating our 
 progress.
 
 162 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME 
 
 Between St. Germain and Mantes we halted at a little village, where the 
 Cure, whom we had seen on our way to Versailles, greeted us, condoled 
 with us on our disappointment in not entering Paris, and chatted 
 pleasantly whilst the horses were resting. He told us Gambetta* had 
 issued a proclamation calling on everybody to fight. Why did he not fight 
 himself? Why did not Trochut fight his way out, instead of waiting for 
 other people to fight their way in? 'But,' he added, 'this is the doctrine 
 which is the ruin of France. Tliis is the doctrine which prevents my 
 writing proudly on my forehead the name of Frenchman; "la doctrine des 
 autres," let others do this, let others do that. Why not do it them selves? It 
 is so all through; the doctrine "des autres" is our ruin.' It was too true; we 
 had seen it too often, that breaking down under pressure of 
 circumstances, that helpless dependence on others in the hour of 
 difficulty. Always 'les autres.' 
 
 Apropos of this, he related a most amusing anecdote of the ladies of St. 
 Germain. When the entrance of the King into that town was announced, 
 these patriotic ladies held a meeting, and resolved, as they could not 
 prevent his coming in, they wovild insult him when he did, and it was 
 determined to spit upon him as he passed. The gentlemen, hearing of this, 
 consulted together how to prevent so foolish a proceeding, and arriving at 
 the place of meeting, one deputed by the rest addressed the ladies in a most 
 pathetic speech, declaring that they, the cherished and beloved, should not 
 incur the risk of savage punishment for such a deed, for their husbands, 
 fathers, and brothers, would take upon themselves the act and its 
 consequences, and he, the speaker, would be the first to insult the invader 
 in the proposed manner, even if he perished in the attempt At this one of 
 
 Leon Gambetta (1838-82), a lawyer and parliamentary deputy noted for his opposition to 
 Napoleon IXTs Second Empire. When news of the rout at Sedan reached Paris, the Emperor was 
 deposed. Empress Eugenie fled to exile in Britain, and Gambetta championed a provisional 
 government to replace the Second Empire and continue the fight. 
 
 t General Louis Trochu (1815-96) accepted the Presidency of the Government of National 
 Defence. He was a monarchist, so he distrusted the leftist Gambetta and thus failed to coordinate 
 the defence of Paris.
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 163 
 
 the ladies rushed forward, exclaiming, 'Not you, my husband, not you; let 
 some other do it. C'est pour un autre.' Out stepped, another vokmteer, but 
 again his loving wife forbade him: 'Not you, my cherished, not you; un 
 autre!' till the plan was given up by uiiiversal consent, and the King made 
 his entry without meeting with any insult from 'les autres.' 
 
 We slept at Mantes. Our host was inconsolable for the loss of his 
 omnibus, and would not believe in its possible restoration after the war. 
 One of our surgeons had left his watch there, and we claimed it. Mine 
 host refused to part with it, alleging that three sacks, which had contained 
 forage, had not been reti.irned with the rest. We remonstrated that the 
 sacks were worthless and the watch valuable; all in vain. We therefore 
 walked off to find the Maire, who was sitting in council as to the means of 
 defending the place. Things were changed since we had passed; it was 
 now full of Francs-tireurs and Gardes Mobiles. The Maire most politely 
 left the Committee of Defence and came with us to the innkeeper. A long 
 discussion ensued; the value of the sacks was declared to be six francs and 
 a half. The Maire justly represented that, if the Prussians came by that 
 way, three francs and a half would by no means represent his probable 
 losses. At last, failing to convince the good man that he had no reason to 
 complain in such times of the loss of three old sacks, and no right to detain 
 Dr. May's watch for a debt of Captain F — 's, he gave it up, and said, 'Well, 
 Monsieur, your conduct is inexplicable and unjustifiable towards 
 strangers, who have done so much for our wouiided; but it shall not be 
 the cause of detention to these amiable ladies. They shall have the watch, 
 and the Commune will pay you the three francs and a half.' Thus all was 
 pacifically settled, and we left Mantes bearing off the missing property. 
 We earnestly hope that when the Prussians did come — for come they did, 
 in spite of the Mayor and the Committee of Defence — and when the 
 heavy requisitions were made on the town, and the officers ate and drank 
 of mine host's best, and ignored his bill, that he was struck with a sense of 
 remorse for the little sum so unjustly and pertinaciously claimed, and felt 
 it a righteous retribution. 
 
 We lunched at Vernon, and mourned over the destruction of the 
 splendid railway-bridge. It took three years to build, three hours to 
 destroy, and it was such useless destruction, for the Prussians walked 
 over Normandy and into Rouen in utter disregard of broken bridges and 
 cut-up roads. Just beyond Vernon we came to a specimen of this fact. 
 
 Across the broad road was a large barricade, with a deep trench in 
 front; only one small passage was left at the side for traffic, and that was
 
 164 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 blocked up by an overturned cart. Francs-tireurs were ambushed* in the 
 wood and farm buildings at the side. But whilst we were wondering how 
 to pass, a boy in a country blouse, but with a pair of military trousers, 
 suddenly appeared, and lifted the cart aside. We thanked him and passed 
 on, and that barricade was never used. But the adventures and 
 misfortunes of tlie War Office Ambulance, on the same road, proved the 
 truth of what we were led to suspect — that they were expected, and 
 would not pass as scot-free as we did. The mark of suspicion was on 
 them. They were going to Versailles to work in German lines, and the 
 country people bore them no good-will. 
 
 We reached St. Pierre-au-Louviers, and our old hostess received us 
 with open arms; but the quiet village was changed now. A troop of 
 mounted gendarmes were halting there. Tlie roads were being barricaded, 
 the bridge over the Seine mined, and the landlady's son had been called 
 out in the last reserve. His state of utter despair was ludicrous. He put 
 every dish he did not forget on the table with a deep sigh, and assured us 
 he was quite 'discomposed.' His mother came in, and, pointing to him, 
 begged us to observe what a hero he looked. 'Regard him, then, ladies; 
 has he not the air of a grand captain?' We laughed and sympathised; it 
 was all we could do. 
 
 At the station we found a guard of French soldiers of the line, armed, 
 the first we had seen for many a long day. They all came forward to help 
 us, and we were escorted into the train by a dear old sergeant, who 
 seemed to think it his duty to take care of us. 
 
 We reached Rouen that night, and found the Hotel d'Aiigleterre in 
 possession of the War Office Ambulance. Tlie chiefs were dining in a 
 private room, and the Infirmiers and grooms in the salle-a-manger. They 
 had just finished, and we were very glad, as they were a noisy lot. We sent 
 off a telegram for one of the London papers, and, finding it was for one of 
 French sympatliies, it reached safely. We sent to tell Lord Buryt we were 
 there, just arrived from Versailles; and as I had known liim when he was 
 but a little boy, and we were from the same county, I thought he might be 
 glad to see us, and we had several valuable hints we could have given him. 
 However, the garqon returned, and said, 'my lord was at dinner;' and 
 though we did not leave till ten or eleven next day, he never asked to see 
 us, so our information remained untold. We had no wish to intrude upon 
 him, but it was a pity; for had they known, as we did, the feeling up the 
 
 Lying in wait to make a surprise attack. 
 t Lieut.-Col. Viscount Bury, M.P.
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 165 
 
 road, they would not have risked going on, as they did. Mr. Thomas, in a 
 letter dated November 17, and pviblished in the 'Times,' gives an account of 
 the loss ot waggons, and stores, on that very route, three weeks later, 
 intended for their use at Versailles; and all along, from the first report of 
 their coming, the very fact of so large an Ambulance going into German 
 lines was a cause of suspicion and distrust among the country people. Even 
 on this occasion we should not have been surprised to hear they had lost 
 their horses. The Francs-tireurs were on the sharp look-out for these at 
 least, and we had been asked at Mantes, Vernon, and St. Pierre-au-Louviers 
 when they were coming. We did not know. We had not even heard if the 
 Ambulance had left England, only that it was expected at Versailles, so we 
 were in ignorance; and, had we known, we assuredly should not have 
 betrayed our countrymen. But we were only women, we were supposed to 
 be friendly, and we picked up a good deal as we came along. Whatever we 
 knew or did not know, we could not converse upon it with the class of men, 
 however respectable, who sat rotmd the long table of the Hotel 
 d' Angleterre, and our attempt to see the chief failed. 
 
 Failing Lord Bury, we tried to see Dr. Guy. He was at breakfast, and 
 we were told could not be disturbed; so we felt we had done our duty. 
 We could not lose the train, and we hoped they could take care of 
 themselves; but we did hear in London they had lost their horses on that 
 very journey, and we simply remarked, 'We could have told them so.' 
 
 From Rouen to Amiens and Calais all was plain sailing, and we 
 crossed by the night boat, had a very bad passage, and reached London, 
 several hours late, on the 19th of October. All that day, after we recovered 
 from the effects of our voyage, which was not till late, we passed in going 
 to see Mrs. Pratt and Mr. Motley.* This eminent statesman received us 
 with his own peculiar courtesy, and promised to aid us by himself 
 speaking to Count Bernstorff, begging us to call there the next morning. 
 We saw the principal members of the Ladies' Committee for tlie Relief of 
 French Distress. All gave us hearty welcome and every help in their 
 power. Till we had seen what chance there was of obtaining the desired 
 leave, we had nothing to ask from any committee, for money and stores 
 awaited us in Paris. However, next day we communicated with Messrs. 
 Piesse and Lubin and Mr. Rimmel.t the active members of two French 
 
 * John Lothrop Motley (1814-77), a noted historian, was the United States Minister to Britain in 1870. 
 
 t Eugene Rimmel (d.l887) opened a London perfumery at 96 Strand, and at 24 Comhill in 1834. 
 His Rimmel cosmetics brand pioneered scented pomades, mouth rinses and his signature "Toilet 
 Vinegar." He contributed greatly to the concept of hygiene and bathing. Piesse and Lubin were also 
 parfimiiers. Both Rimmel and Piesse wrote books on perfimiery.
 
 166 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 committees, as to what aid they could give, if required. Were we to try 
 and express our sense of all the kindness we received, we should fail. 
 Only those working as hard as we were know what a blessing a little 
 sympathy is. 
 
 We then called at the Prussian Embassy. Mr. Motley was there; but no 
 words of ours are needed to prove how good and true and kind, to friend 
 and foe alike, are Count and Countess Bernstorff. The Count said Mr. 
 Motley had well pleaded our cause, and he would do what he could. 
 Quite delighted at this prospect of success, and the warm interest taken in 
 the matter by Mr. Motley and Count Bernstorff, we drove off to a 
 telegraph office, were assured we could telegraph to Orleans, through the 
 British Embassy at Tours, and accordingly sent one off, pleasing ourselves 
 with the idea what a relief it would be to Dr. Pratt. In this very telegram, 
 too, we told him we had a hope of money and stores, if this failed. Thus 
 no step of our progress was intentionally concealed from him, and we 
 knew we had his sanction to use our own judgment in all we did. We 
 wrote that night also to him and to the Secretary of our British Committee, 
 to say we had been detained too late that day to call, as we had hoped to 
 do, in St. Martin's Place, but should be tliere next morning. I got a private 
 note from one of the officials begging me to do so, as they were affronted 
 we had not been there before, and an anonymous scrap also from the 
 office, begging me 'to go there directly, there was something up.' What, 
 we could not imagine; and next day, accompanied by the Rev. Hubert 
 MacLaughlin, Louise's father, we went down. 
 
 Captain Burgess received us with a warm welcome, and expressed no 
 surprise we had not been there before. At this time Colonel Loyd-Lindsay 
 had not returned. I told Captain Burgess what our business in London 
 was, and what steps we had taken-this in public, before several of the 
 clerks, and we both also said we would not take up their time, as we had 
 nothing to ask till we received a reply as to Paris. He said, 'They won't let 
 you go in.' We said, 'Then we will come and bother you for money and 
 stores.' His answer was, T will do what I can for you,' and he himself was 
 most friendly. I also gave him Dr. Pratt's list of the Ambulance, and 
 begged him to submit that request to the Committee. He said he would, 
 but that he did not think they would take those gentlemen upon their 
 staff. On this occasion, too, we saw several of the ladies, wearing gold 
 lockets with a white enamel shield and a Red Cross upon them, and, to 
 our surprise, were each presented with one. We have heard since that 
 some of those who had picked charpie had silver medals with a Red Cross 
 sent to them, a distinction in this case somewhat cheaply earned.
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME . 167 
 
 Next day I sent for some money (33/.) which the Committee owed me, 
 with a full account of how it had been expended. I was answered that the 
 account should be submitted to the committee, and in the evening came a 
 letter to say it was correct, and how did I wish the money to be paid? As 
 we were going to see the Committee again, I waited to receive it till I did 
 so. The following evening came a letter from Countess Bernstorff, saying 
 that the National Society did not express the wish we should enter Paris, 
 and tlierefore, as it was an application that could only be made under 
 special circumstances, in this instance it could not be done; but she told us 
 further that the Bishop of Orleans had applied for assistance, and we 
 should find 'full scope there for our devotion to tlie sick and wounded.' 
 
 Nothing could be more graceful and generous than this asking help 
 for a French bishop. Now it became our duty to seek for money and 
 stores, and Louise and myself went down to St. Martin's Lane. Captain 
 Burgess was there, so were Lord Shaftesbury* and Colonel Loyd-Lindsay; 
 but though we particularly asked to see them, Captain Burgess did not 
 attempt even to mention the fact of our presence there to them, and 
 Colonel Loyd Lindsay brushed against us as he passed out of the room 
 without taking the slightest notice of us. I asked first for my money; but 
 the account had got into some pigeonhole, and the affair could not be 
 settled then. We asked for assistance for Dr. Pratt, and Captain Burgess 
 replied, 'It is utterly useless; the Committee will not give it.' I asked why? 
 what had the Ambulance done that the Society would not support it? 
 Captain Burgess replied, 'Simply, they have struck the American 
 Ambulance off the list of those they intend to supplement.' Louise asked 
 why they had done this? Captain Burgess answered, 'Oh! there is no 
 reason, only they cannot support all. They have a right to choose which 
 they will support, and as regards the request to put their men on our list, 
 they will not do it.' I said, 'Have you asked them?' He replied, 'Yes, and 
 they have refused.' I said, 'At least, you will give them some stores. Here 
 is the list of those which Dr. Pratt requested me to ask for,' showing him 
 my pocket book. He said, 'We are not aware you are authorised to act for 
 Dr. Pratt.' I was utterly astounded, and so was Louise, and we said, 'Do 
 you think we should come here and say so, if we were not authorised?' 
 Captain Burgess said, 'But we don't officially know you are in London!' 
 
 This was startling. Can anybody write an essay on how to make your 
 presence officially known, except by going down to an office in the very 
 dress we had been ordered to wear, and amiouncing ourselves as come to 
 
 * Antony Ashley Cooper, 7* Earl of Shaftesbury (1801-1885), Britain's most notable philanthropist
 
 168 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 see the Committee on business, and having already had official 
 communications addressed to my lodgings in London as regarded the 
 debt they owed me. I laughed and said, 'Well, here we are, and here is the 
 list;' and I explained how and when it had been given me. He looked at it 
 and said, 'How do we know this is Dr. Pratt's handwriting?' I answered, 
 'Look at the page by tlie side of the list. Tliere is his wife's address in 
 London, written in the same hand.' Captain Burgess said again, 'But we 
 don't know that it is any of it in his handwriting.' Then indeed, I confess, 
 my blood was up. I had worked with Captain Burgess and Captain Furley 
 in getting up the Society before Colonel Loyd-Lindsay joined it. We had 
 both served them faithfully, and this was a cruel insult. I said, 'Good 
 heavens! Captain Burgess, do you mean to say we should come here 
 asking for money under false pretences, with a forged list of stores?' He 
 made no answer. I took my brassard out of my pocket and said, 'Take 
 back this brassard, which has never been a protection or an honour, for we 
 were obliged to leave it off at Versailles. If I could do this thing, I am not 
 worthy to work under your Society. If you have accused me falsely, you 
 are not worthy I should work under you.' He refused to take it, saying, 
 'Oh, that is all nonsense.' 
 
 Angry as I was, I would not lose a chance of helping our Ambulance, 
 and I said, 'If you doubt me, will you give Dr. Pratt something if he comes 
 himself to ask for it. Captain Burgess? 'Not even if he comes himself,' he 
 answered. I remarked, 'Well, it is all very extraordinary. Will you submit 
 it to the Committee, at least?' He said, 'Yes, I will; but it will be of no use.' 
 I said, 'I shall call to-morrow for an answer;' and we left, feeling we had 
 been treated in a most unworthy way, grumbling about red tape and the 
 state of things in general of the Committee, as women will, especially 
 when chafing under such absurd and uncalled-for injustice. But kinder 
 friends, more trusting hearts, awaited us. The good people of Putney gave 
 us all the stores they had collected since they had sent out to Sedan, and 
 all the balance of the money in hand, 40/. — this for the use of any 
 Ambulance we might work with, as they had heard of such quantities of 
 stores getting ruined by damp in the vaults of St. Martin's Church, such 
 waste of money in St. Martin's Place, that they preferred giving to those 
 who would put to practical and instant use all that was sent. 
 
 From the Committee in Red Lion Square, from Mr. Von Glehn* in the 
 City, from the Hon. Miss Rushoutt of Onslow Square, from Lady 
 
 * Possibly Alexander von Glehn, a coffee importer, and father of Wilfrid Gabriel De Glehn (1870- 
 1951), a leading British impressionist painter.
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 169 
 
 Theodore Grosvenor,* from the ample stores of Messrs. Piesse and Lubin, 
 from Mr. Edward Walford,t and the local Committee at Hampstead, came 
 help in new and valuable clothing, lint, wadding, and medicines; 30/. of 
 the Putney money we spent in medical necessaries; and Louise's 
 experience in hospital training, the judicious selection she made, and the 
 trouble she took in going to purchase them from the Civil Service Stores in 
 the City at less than half-price, placed us in possession of what would 
 have cost the Committee probably something like 100/. Messrs. Piesse and 
 Lubin gave us a case of amputation instruments especially for the Anglo- 
 American Ambulance, the only thing so especially given for them, except 
 the splendid donation of the French Committee in the City,t the secretary 
 of which is M. Pierrard, who gave 200/. for the Anglo-Americans, solely on 
 condition tliat it should be used for French wounded alone, and through 
 the kind interest and introduction of M. Eugene Rimmel. 
 
 We wrote an appeal to the public for assistance, as we had been 
 requested, but deferred inserting it till we had received the National 
 Society's decided reply. We worked hard all day, and next morning went 
 for the Committee's answer. Captain Burgess said, 'It has not come on for 
 consideration yet.' I said we had already received promises of help, and 
 we should start for Orleans as soon as possible. That we were also 
 requested to form an Ambulance near Angers, but of course should keep 
 our promise, and take to Dr. Pratt whatever we could procure for him. 
 We both added that we presumed that, as Captain Brackenbury had 
 
 t To whom this book is dedicated. 
 
 * This is a diminutive, like substituting Louise for Louisa. Lady Theodora Grosvenor (1840- 
 1924) was the youngest daughter of Richard, Second Marquess of Westminster, PC, KG, (1795- 
 1869). (The marquess was Cheshire's Lord Lieutenant, a post that originated in the 16th century, 
 with responsibility for local military defence and the maintenance of order. Her Majesty the 
 Queen appoints the Lord-Lieutenant as her representative in each county on the advice of the 
 Prime Minister. The Lord-Lieutenant must remain non-political, is unpaid, and has to retire at 75. 
 The marquess was also Custos Rotulonmi, i.e. the county's principal Justice of die Peace 
 [magistrate], having custody of the rolls and records of the sessions of the peace.) In 1877 Lady 
 Theodora married Thomas Guest and had issue. 
 
 t Edward Walford M.A.( 1823-97), was a prolific author, writing histories of most districts of 
 London. His publications included the 743-page Greater London; a narrative of its history, its 
 people, and its places (Cassell of London and New York, 1883-84). Walford translated Aristotle 's 
 Politics and Economics with notes and analyses (1853, reprinted 1880). The shilling baronetage 
 by Walford in 1877 achieved its 23"* year of publication. In 1917 came the 57th annual 
 publication of Walford's County families of the United Kingdom; or, Royal manual of the titled 
 and untitled aristocracy of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland.. He edited Emma Pearson's book 
 on Rome, and was probably her relative, considering that her sister was Mrs. Walford Gosnal. 
 
 $ The Civil Service Stores in the Strand was not built until 1876.
 
 170 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 attached us for service to them, the Committee would sanction our 
 continuing to work with them. Captain Burgess said, 'Oh yes, of course; I 
 don't see why not.' I said, 'You will kindly, then, see for our free passes to 
 Dover.' He said, 'You shall have them. When do you think of going?' 
 Louise answered, 'As soon as we collect our bales and boxes and get off. 
 There is no time to lose. There will be hot fighting round Orleans.' I said, 
 'I'll send for my money.' Captaiii Burgess replied, 'Oh, that account has 
 passed the Committee; you shall have it,' and we left. 
 
 That evening I received a letter saying the Committee declined to 
 support the Ambulance. I wrote a remonstrance on the injustice of this, 
 and begged them to reconsider tlieir decision before I appealed to the 
 public. Tlie answer to this was a letter dismissing me from the Society, 
 signed by Captain Burgess, and saying, 'I am directed by the Committee 
 to request you will consider yourself as released from your allegiance to 
 the Society;' no reason being given. This I declined, as he had refused to 
 accept my resignation. Louise tlien wrc")te and asked for her free pass to 
 Dover, and she got an answer, saying it was not necessary for her to 
 proceed in the Society's service again abroad. Now, we had signed a 
 formidable legal document by which our services were engaged for the 
 whole of the war, our daily personal expenses being paid, so that we were 
 advised that neither party could dissolve the engagement without mutual 
 consent. I then received a letter more civilly worded, saying, 'they were 
 not prepared to discuss the legal terms of their contract; they would pay 
 the money I was owed when it was sent for;' and we hoped the matter 
 was ended. 
 
 On the 2nd of November, Captain MacLaughlin, R.A.,* called to say 
 we were about to start, and to try and make some terms with them. He 
 took with him the copy of the appeal about to be inserted in the papers, 
 and urged them to send a sum of money for the Ambulance, and so end 
 the discussion. By this time Mrs. Pratt had identified her husband's 
 handwriting, and acknowledged it, by bringii^g us to take to him, one 
 arhcle he had asked for on the list, a large American flag. So there could 
 be no pretext for disavowing it. All was vain, and Captain MacLaughlin 
 returned, saying that they were obstinately determined to refuse. 
 
 We wrote to the President, the Prince of Wales, explaining the position 
 of affairs — a letter which we heard long afterwards was forwarded at his 
 desire to the Committee — and having sent off the appeal to be inserted 
 
 Louisa's eldest brother, Major-General Edward McLaughlin (1838-1912), my great-grandfather. 
 — G. H. McL.
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 171 
 
 in the papers, we prepared for our start. We bought a large Union-Jack — 
 how useful it was afterwards the sequel will show. The Committee would 
 not even give us that, and on the 3rd of November all was ready; the 
 heavy baggage, twenty-three bales and boxes, at Charing Cross, ready to 
 go by the 6 P.M. train, and our farewells said to all who had so nobly aided 
 our struggle for the Ambulance. At 1 P.M., having no time to go myself, I 
 sent Mr. Francis Hartley for my money, with a properly-signed receipt for 
 the committee. He was detained three hours, and at 4 P.M. reti.irned with 
 no money, but a note from Colonel Loyd-Lindsay himself, in part of 
 which he said, 'If you will only give me your assurance that you are not 
 going to Orleans to join the Anglo-American Ambulance, I will submit 
 your letter to the Committee' — what letter I know not, as every letter I 
 had written had been addressed to the Committee, and surely should 
 have been submitted to them before any replies were sent. My account 
 had passed and the order had been given to pay me, so it could not be 
 that. It must have been the final remonstrance I wrote against our being 
 virtually accused of having asked for money under false pretences. This 
 was addressed, as I have said, to tlie Committee, and should have been 
 laid before them, without trying to make me give any promise or enter 
 into any arrangement with the chairman. 
 
 I sent Mr. Francis Hartley again to ask for my money. The Rev. 
 Randolph MacLaughlin* went with him, and we drove to the Charing 
 Cross Station to register our baggage. The gentlemen came back; they 
 could not get the money, and at 5-30 P.M. I went myself with Mr. 
 MacLaughlin. I saw Captain Burgess. He said it was too late; Colonel 
 Loyd-Lindsay was gone, and had left no cheque. At that instant I caught 
 sight of the Colonel going down a staircase. I ran after him; but he was 
 too quick for me, and vanished. I told Captain Burgess I thought they had 
 all behaved very badly, but I shook hands with him, and said I knew and 
 felt we were going to do better work than ever we had done or could do 
 under them; and so we parted. 
 
 I saved the train by a few minutes, and left injunctions with Mr. 
 Hartley to get the money and send it after me to Tours. What passed after 
 we left seems to be that they gave endless trouble, and refused to pay the 
 money unless my solicitor would give them an acquittance for anything 
 else they might owe me. This he was not empowered to do, and 
 represented that it had nothing to do with tlie debt I claimed. Captain 
 
 * Another of Louisa's brothers. Rev. McLaughlin-Berens, MA (1844-1922) Vicar of Sidcup. After 
 marrying Ellinor, heiress of Henry Berens, Governor of the Hudson's Bay Company and a director 
 of the Bank of England, he took her surname by Royal Licence.
 
 172 THE BATTLE-FIELD AT HOME. 
 
 Burgess spoke very hastily on several occasions to Mr. Francis Hartley, so 
 much so that at last my solicitor went himself, and in Captain Burgess's 
 presence told Colonel Loyd-Lindsay tliat Mr. Hartley was a young 
 gentleman of as good birth and education as any of them then there, and 
 that he had been treated witln 'very scant courtesy.' Colonel Loyd- 
 Lindsay was civil, and said he was sure Captain Burgess did not mean to 
 be insulting, and he had a cheque ready for my solicitor. It is a pity it was 
 not given without all this trouble. Captain Burgess excused himself by 
 saying he had only received 'a vague request for payment.' This, after his 
 own statement that the accounts had passed the Committee, and having 
 had a stamped receipt sent by the hand of an articled clerk, with written 
 authority to receive the sum for me, was but a poor excuse. However, 
 there that matter ended, though the delay rendered the money useless to 
 me till after the armistice was declared, and cost me a perilous journey to 
 Bourges to try and cash the cheque which was sent about a fortnight after 
 I reached Orleans.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 173 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE ARMY OF TFiE LOIRE.* 
 
 The train rushed out of Charing Cross Station; the glaring lights faded 
 into darkness. We were off to the help of those who so sorely needed it, 
 alone and unaided, save by God and our own hearts. No doubt of success 
 crossed our minds. We went in a cause too sacred for human prqudice 
 and error to risk its failure, and, cost what it might, we resolved to reach 
 Orleans with the money and stores. How thankful we dreamed they 
 would be to see us-those who had sent us for the help we were bringing. 
 They could leave the German lines; they could go where their own Society 
 sent them. The British National Society had cast them off. Well, we could 
 do without that Society now; and so, in simple truth and honour, we went 
 back to the friends we had left on that sad day at Versailles. 
 
 The tide was so low when we reached Calais that the heavy baggage 
 could not be landed, and we had to wait till noon. We procured a sealed 
 waggon, registered the baggage straight throvigh to Rouen, and met with 
 the greatest kindness and consideration from everyone. We arrived at 
 Rouen at 6 P.M., and leaving our waggon at the station, drove to the Hotel 
 d'Angleterre, and were warmly welcomed. We stumbled over two, 
 triangular tin boxes in the hall, and on them read the names of two 
 English military officers. It turned out they were military commissioners 
 sent out to join the Army of the Loire, and going on as we were next day, 
 as far as they could — the termination of all journeys in those times. 
 
 We had just read a very amusiiig article in one of the daily papers, 
 entitled 'In search of the Army of the Loire,' or something very like it; and 
 we wondered if these gentlemen would be more fortunate than the unlucky 
 special correspondent. All the way from Calais we had heard of the Army 
 of the North,t but where was the Army of the Loire? We had seen the 
 railway stations fortified, the walls of the engine-houses crenelled for 
 
 *General Qaude Michel d'Aurelle de Paladines (1804-1877) was the Army's commander in chief. 
 World War I British Field Marshal Herbert (Your Country Needs You) Kitchener served briefly 
 with the Army of the Loire before receiving a commission into the Royal Engineers in 1871. 
 t An army assembled in Lille that Bourbaki commanded from 17* October until early December, 
 when he took over the Z""* Army of the Loire.
 
 174 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 
 
 musketry,* and the windows of the waiting-rooms tightly dosed up with 
 planks; everywhere men drillirig, and begiiining to clothe themselves in 
 military costume. Some had caps, some belts, some red stripes down their 
 trousers; but everyone had something to show he was going to be a soldier. 
 On every blank wall, in town and village, were placards calling the people 
 to rise en masse and drive out 'tl^e invading hordes of the Goths.'t Rouen 
 was no exception to tliis, but we noticed a vast improvement in the 
 National Guards and Mobiles. One forbiight had given them much of the 
 appearance of regular troops, and all were now armed. 
 
 Our heavy baggage, about four thousand pounds' weight, was 
 brought across the city in a two-horse waggon, and safely got into the 
 train. We procured anotl^er sealed waggon, and registered it through to 
 Tours. As far as Rouen the baggage had come free, but here we found we 
 must pay for it; but only quarter tariff, if we could procure an order from 
 the office of the French International Society. It was too late to do that, 
 and the station-master most kindly gave us a little note to pass the 
 baggage on to Tours, and pay there when we had got an order. 
 
 We reached Le Mans very late at night, the detentions on the road 
 being numerous. It was very quiet and silent; not a vestige of even a 
 sentinel to be seen, but at daybreak drums and trumpets announced the 
 presence of soldiers. We looked out; the scene was most picturesque. Men 
 in every variety of uniform were crowding the streets, conspicuous among 
 them the grey and red of the Pontifical Zouaves.t It was Sunday; but 
 there was no regular church parade. The Catliedral, however, was full of 
 kneeling worshippers, soldiers greatly predominating; and there the 
 Ponhfical Zouave and the Garibaldian volunteer,t the Breton peasant and 
 the long-descended Franc-tireur captain of La Vendee, prayed side by side 
 for their well-beloved and suffering France. 
 
 On the Boulevard by the Cathedral we met a body of small, active 
 men, with bronzed complexions and brown cloth blouses, fastened in 
 
 With openings made for small anns fire. 
 
 t Ironically, when the Goths were harassing the Roman Empire from the 3"* to 6"* centuries BCE, 
 they had nothing to do with what is now Germany, but the Visigothic Kingdom was made up of 
 Spain — and France south of the Loire! 
 
 t Napoleon IH sent French soldiers recruited from noble families as an army for the Pope to 
 prevent his territories from being taken over in the guerrilla general Garibaldi's drive to unify 
 Italy. After the Empire's fall, the Pontifical Zouaves put up a token fight, then returned to France, 
 allowing Rome to become the capital of the new united Italy. After 1260 years Rome was no 
 longer governed by a Pope. Pius EX declared himself infallible the next year 
 t For his last campaign. General Giuseppe Garibaldi ( 1807-82) led a group of French and Italian 
 volunteers in support of the new French republic. He won a battle near Dijon (1871).
 
 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 175 
 
 round the waist by a strong untanned leather belt. They wrapped their 
 short hooded capes about tliem, and shivered in the faint winter sunlight. 
 I asked them where they came from, and they told me from Algiers, from 
 the French colonies there, to fight for the dear mother country. 'We have 
 crossed the sea, Madame,' said one of their sergeants, 'we have marched 
 on foot from Marseilles, and we are going to Berlin.' He said it so gravely 
 and simply that it was quite touching. The sons of these Algerian farmers 
 may some day pass through Le Mans to Berlin; but of tliese poor fellows 
 too many fill soldiers' graves on the battle-fields of the Loire. 
 
 But strange and most appropriate was the parade-ground of the 
 Francs-tireurs of Cathelineau.* It was on the old Place Vianme. There, 
 where Cathelineau fell in the moment of victory, fighting for the 
 Bourbons; there, where his Vendeans, despairing and dismayed at their 
 leader's fall, retreated from the position they had won, the grandson of 
 the dead hero, the General Cathelineau of to-day, mustered around him 
 the descendants of the men who had fought and fell, on that very spot, on 
 that fatal day, to march again against a foe. The Fleur-de-lis,t and the 
 white cockade,^ were replaced by the Tricolor,§ but the enemy now was a 
 foreign invader, and royalist and republican could fight side by side in 
 this common cause. Their dress was perfect for irregular troops. The men 
 wore black cloth tunics and trousers bound with blue, blue scarfs around 
 the waist, and black slouching hats, with a raven's plume fastened by a 
 small tricolor cockade. The officers wore their scarfs over the shoulder, 
 and had high boots and black gauntlet gloves. The rank was marked by a 
 small gold star, embroidered on the sleeve, one, two, or three, as 
 depended on the rank. Both officers and men were of a very superior 
 class. 
 
 They were accompanied by a small, well organised regimental 
 Ambulance, under the management of Madame Cathelineau. She had a 
 husband and two sons in the corps, and many, very many, friends and 
 
 * Jacques Cathelineau (1759-93) while leading the royalist Vendee revolt against the French 
 Revolutionary government. It was at Le Mans that the Vendean army was crushed, but Cathelineau 
 had died from a bullet in the chest six months previously — in Nantes. 
 
 t The Heur-de-lis (or lys or leuce, meaning lily) was featured on the French royal standard. It is a 
 stylised representation of the golden iris (called a lily until the 19"" century) found beside the 
 downstream continuation into Flanders of the River Lis (Leie in Flemish). 
 
 t Worn by troops of the French imperial army. 
 
 § The national flag with vertical blue, white and red stripes. For four years after it was introduced 
 during the French Revolution the colours were in the reverse order. Revolutionaries in Paris liked 
 blue and red, the traditional colours of their city, to which were added the Bourbon royal white. 
 Many other countries later adopted tricoloured flags.
 
 176 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 
 
 neighbours, and with two other Vendean ladies she followed the regiment 
 in a carriage, accompanied by a couple of light store-waggons, to be at 
 hand to nurse the wounded of the corps, in case of need. It was quite a 
 model little Ambulance, just what an Ambulance should be — the nucleus 
 of work able to be expanded to any extent that occasion may require. One 
 thing struck us as peculiar and beautiful — the deeply religious tone of the 
 whole corps. English people, not considering the intense innate faith of 
 the Breton nature in 'things unseen,'* might have considered it 
 superstitious to wear, as they all did, a crimson heart, embroidered on 
 black cloth, and attached to the timic, with the words written below it, 
 'Arrete! le coeur de Jesus est ici.'t Perhaps it was so; but the idea that the 
 presence of the Saviour in the heart of the soldier would turn aside the 
 balls and be his shield in the hour of danger is, after all, a very beautiful 
 one, and that was but the outward expression of that ideal. Every good 
 man has the same belief in Divine protection; and this was only their 
 simple way of evidencing their trust in Him who 'could cover their head 
 in the day of battle. 't Interesting as Le Mans was, we could not linger 
 there, and that afternoon reached Tours. Here we had to halt, waiting for 
 the letters of credit which were to meet us there. Besides, the railroad only 
 'circulated,' as the French call going on a straight road, as far as Blois, and 
 how to proceed was a difficulty; for beyond were the Prussians, and the 
 proprietors of horses and waggons did not care to take them into German 
 lines, at the risk of having them 'required' for the service of the German 
 army. 
 
 We decided, however, tliat we would go to Blois, leave our baggage 
 there, and get on into Orleans ourselves. As far as the German outposts at 
 Beaugency we could get some sort of conveyance, and then there would 
 be a walk of nine miles. This could be done in three or four hours. We 
 should find the Anglo-American Ambulance there, and their waggons 
 could come up to Blois for the stores. Tliis plan was, however, 
 disarranged by rumours of fighting round Orleans. If this were true, and 
 the Germans pushed on to Blois, the baggage would not be safe there 
 during the combat. We would wait a day and see. All that day came 
 different rumours of victory and defeat, but night closed in without any 
 decided intelligence. Next morning, however, a general air of hilarity 
 pervaded high and low. Bavarian and Prussiaii prisoners were brought in, 
 
 "...the things which are not seen are eternal." - 2 Corinthians 4:18. 
 t"Halt! The heart of Jesus is here." 
 
 t "0 God the Lord, the strength of my salvation, thou hast covered my head in the day of battle." 
 — Psalm 140:7
 
 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 1 77 
 
 and everyone started up from the table d'hote* breakfast to look at such an 
 unaccustomed sight. At last came the despatch affixed to the walls and 
 read by joyous crowds. Von der Tann had been defeated with loss and the 
 French were in Orleans, the first to enter being part of the Cathelineau 
 corps which had preceded the division we saw at Le Mans to the front. 
 The Army of the Loire was found, and its first public appearance had been 
 a glorious success, t 
 
 Tours was a gay city that day. The Rue Royale was a mass of soldiers 
 of the line. Gardes Mobiles and Francs-tireurs all mixed together. 
 Thousands passed up and down it with a light step and a cheerful air. 
 Victory had dawned at last upon the arms of France. As I watched the 
 thronging multihide, I regretted the strictly military costtime of our 
 voKmteers. These men were so simply and cheaply dressed; their tunics 
 sat so loosely and easily; all was for service, not show. Yet many 
 preserved some trace of the peculiar costume of their various provinces. 
 The Francs-tireurs from the Pyrenees wore the flat woollen berretta and 
 white tassel still used by the peasantry there; and the men from Brittany 
 and La Vendee had the half-Tyrolese hat and cock's plume of their native 
 woodland country. One corps was dressed in black velvet, with a violet 
 scarf round the waist. 
 
 We derived much amusement from hearing that a friend had been 
 offered some stray boxes belonging to the British National Society. This 
 had been our lot. We might have accumulated a good deal of baggage at 
 various stations all along the road from Calais to Le Mans, which was 
 lying about at the various railroad stations. A good deal of it was 
 addressed to a Colonel Cox. I wonder if he ever got it. One box at Le 
 Mans looked most tempting. It seemed to be a case of instruments, and 
 we had none for ourselves. At Vernon some baggage, sent there en route to 
 Versailles, had been burned when the Prussians made their first raid upon 
 the town, and the station caught fire; and really it would hardly have been 
 a sin, on the speculation that some such event might occur here before the 
 Colonel claimed his box — and it had been lying there a long time — to 
 have borrowed it or 'required' it till the end of the war. But we left it there, 
 and only hope all the stray packages got somewhere at last where their 
 contents would be useful. 
 
 * A communal table for all the guests at a hotel or restaurant. 
 
 t General von der Tann's veteran 1st Bavarian Corps, having taken Orleans, was isolated by the 
 Z"** Army under General Chanzy. Finding that his pleas for reinforcement were ignored, on 9 
 November von der Tann chose to evacuate the city and face the poorly-trained, but alarmingly 
 numerous, resurgent Republican French in the field.
 
 178 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 
 
 Next day we went on to Blois; our baggage was to follow by the first 
 train that came through. M. de Villeneuve, of the French International, 
 had been himself to Orleans, and ascertained that the traffic on the line 
 would be resumed as soon as the bridge at Beaugency was repaired, and 
 the workmen were there already, so that we should get it into Orleans as 
 soon as if we took it on by road. Blois was quiet; neither French nor 
 German armies had passed there. It was very interesting to see the grand 
 old Castle* prepared to receive the wounded. It could accommodate 600. 
 In the great Council Hall there were 80 beds, but at present all were 
 empty. At Tours we had also seen the old Castle of Plessis-le-Tours 
 making ready for an Ambulance. It was not only tliat they had space in 
 these places for wounded, but it was supposed to be a means of securing 
 tliem from occupation by the Germans. In many instances it failed, but the 
 Chateau de Blois does not appear to have been suffered, and Plessis-Ie- 
 Tours was but an empty, half-ruined, half restored house.t 
 
 It was only on the afternoon of the next day that trains began to run 
 through to Orleans. The first was a special, containing M. Gambetta and 
 two or three of his ministers; the second, a few hours later, a train of 
 ammunition and forage; but there was no hope of passenger trains for 
 several days. We had made acquaintance, fortunately, with a very civil 
 Intendant militaire, whose duty it was to arrange the military traffic, and 
 he, when we had explained our great wish to get into Orleans, said at once 
 that being on such an errand gave us the full right to go on, if possible, 
 and he would apply to the station master to put on one passenger- 
 carriage. The station-master refused; nothing would induce him to help 
 anybody in any way. The Intendant had no power to force him to give us 
 the accommodation of a carriage, but took down his name, to make a 
 formal complaint of his conduct to the directors, and himself helped to get 
 us into a baggage-waggon, which was the best thing he could do for us. 
 
 A wounded officer going to an Ambulance at Orleans, a surgeon on 
 the way to join his regiment, and two or three workmen, who got out at 
 various places on the line, composed the party. When we came near 
 Beaugency the guard showed us a ruined windmill. The story of it was 
 that it had been used as a signal-post by the Prussians; the turning of the 
 mill-sails one way warned their outposts of the presence of the French in 
 force, whilst when they turned the other it was safe for the Uhlans to 
 
 Once home to Lxjuis XII and Francis I, this Renaissance monument impresses visitors with three 
 architectural styles. 
 
 t In 1998, this residence of Lx)uis XI was turned into a theatre.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 179 
 
 advance. A party of ingenious Francs-tireurs, perceiving some connection 
 between the action of the mill-sails and that of the Prussian cavalrv, took 
 possession of the mill, found that the millers were Prussian soldiers, and 
 having dispossessed them of their situations (how, the relater knew not, 
 whether as prisoners or dead), they resolved to try the effect of working 
 the mill-sails their own way. They turned them in the direction that 
 betokened safety, and a cavalry picquet of some forty or fifty White 
 Cuirassiers came riding up the road. A volley was fired from behind the 
 hedges which bordered the way, with such fatal precision that they left 
 twenty-one dead on the spot. 
 
 The bridge over which we passed, by a temporary and apparently not 
 very safe wooden flooring, had been completely destroyed; the centre 
 arch had been blown up and left a yawning chasm, rather terrible to look 
 at from the frail platform over which we were passing. Tlie peasants 
 pointed out as we went on to Meung, or more properly Mehun-sur-Loire, 
 the distant country where far away on our left the battle had been fought 
 at 'a village called Coulmiers.' We did not think then how tliat name 
 would represent the solitary great victory of France. All was hope and 
 exultation. The army of the Loire was in Orleans. Had we not seen its 
 divisions at Le Mans and Tours, all well armed, all ready to fight to the 
 death for France? A few days more, and they would advance on Paris. 
 There would be a grand sortie, and Paris would be relieved before that 
 coquin* 'Frederick Charles' could arrive; and if he did, so much the 
 better-he would be caught between two armies and ground to powder. So 
 they talked on, full of hope and confidence in the victorious army of the 
 Loire. 
 
 Orleans was reached at last. Our guard refused to accept even a 
 couple of francs for all his civility, and ordered one of the luggage-van 
 attendants to take ourselves and our bags to the best hotel. We had to 
 walk through the station, which, during the German occupation, had been 
 used as a guard-house and Ambulance. Very dirty and miserable it must 
 have been. It had been occupied for German wounded from tlie first 
 battles of October 11th and 12th, when Orleans was taken by the Germans, 
 and now the French authorities had ordered their evacuation to some 
 place in the town, as they intended to restore the station to its original 
 purpose. 
 
 As we came out on the boulevard beyond, we met Dr. Tilghman, one 
 of our surgeons. He gave us a warm welcome, said he had got the 
 
 Rogue.
 
 180 THE ARMY OF THE LOIRE. 
 
 telegram we had sent from Blois, but had no idea we could get through 
 that day; that they had had the station as an Ambulance, and very rough 
 work it had been, but that they had got a house for sixty wounded, all that 
 were left to them tlien, and that Dr. Pratt had gone to England for money 
 and stores, everything being exhausted. In tlie Rue Banniere, the High 
 Street of Orleans, we met two more of our friends, and they accompanied 
 us in search of rooms, which we at last found in the Hotel d'Orleans.* 
 
 *The 'Very comfortable" three-star hotel is still at 6 rue Adolphe Crespin. 45000 Orleans, which 
 the University of Orleans Science Faculty website claims is now "a calm street," whatever it may 
 have been like in 1870.
 
 THE ONLY VICTORY. 181 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ONLY VICTORY. 
 
 The morning of the 12th November was a bright sunny day.. The 
 Orleans world was abroad in gay costume. The bells of the Cathedral, 
 silenced since the Germans entered the city, rang out a gay carillon, and 
 scarlet kepis and trousers, gold epaulettes and bright blue overcoats, with 
 a little dandy hood, were flashing about in all directions. At last we had 
 found the head-quarters of the Army of the Loire. The statue of Jeanne 
 d'Arc, in the Place Martroi, was hung with wreatlis of flowers and 
 immortelles, and a crown of crystal beads was placed on her head; but, 
 having been somewhat swept aside, probably by the wind, it hung 
 slanting over one eye, and gave the 'Immortal Maid' a decidedly 
 dissipated appearance. 
 
 It was our first day amongst the French army, and the cheerfulness of 
 all around us, the quick, active step of the soldiery, and courteous 
 manners, were quite refreshing. Good M. and Madame Pillion, the 
 landlord and landlady; made us as comfortable as the crowded state of 
 the hotel would permit, and from one or two of our Ambulance we heard 
 how sudden and unexpected had been the entry of the Prench. The 
 gentlemen were not over charmed; they had been most kindly received by 
 the German officials, had been hand in glove with the Bavarian officers, 
 and gave us glowing accounts of the splendid house on the Quai du 
 Chatelet, which had been allotted to them, and the magnificent 
 requisitions of food and wine and all luxuries which had been granted 
 them. We rather wondered, now the Prench had come back, if the owners 
 of the house wovild not return too; and then what would become of the 
 splendid quarters? Also, we thought they had got Germanised, for they 
 had adopted white kepis bound with black — the Prussian colours, which 
 I cannot say I liked so well as the blue cap and Red Cross of yore. They 
 had been requested to wear no brassards, as the Prussians did not like 
 them. They had not seen the battle, but how the retaking of Orleans was 
 effected was, as they said, a very easily understood thing. 
 
 On the 8th of November the Germans discovered the main body of 
 the army of the Loire in the neighbourhood of Vendome. Their own force 
 at Orleans was weakened by the detaching of General von Wittich and
 
 182 THE ONLY VICTORY. 
 
 15,000 men to occupy Chateaudun and Chartres, and General Von der 
 Tann found himself in a dangerous position. He sent the baggage to the 
 rear on the Paris road, and marched out to meet the advancing enemy. 
 Next day, the 9th, the battle began near Coulmiers. It was a place of good 
 omen for the French, for there 'tlie Maid' defeated our English troops, 
 commanded by Sir Joliii Falstaff.* The battle lasted all day, the French 
 Marine Infantry and Artillery particularly distinguishing themselves. At 
 dusk the Germans retreated towards Artenay, on the Paris road, which 
 they reached next morning, and were there joined by General von Wittich 
 and a body of Bavarian cavalry who had been left in Orleans. The French 
 rested for the night on the field they had won, not knowing that Orleans 
 was evacuated. On the morning of the 12th Cathelineau and his corps of 
 Francs-tireurs pushed on up to the gates, or ratlier entrance, of Orleans. 
 To their surprise, no opposition met tliem. The German sentinels had 
 been posted as usual the evening before, and were quite as much 
 astonished to see the French as the French were not to see the Germans. 
 Of course they were all taken prisoners, and Cathelineau took possession 
 of the city. During the morning the rest of the French army marched in. 
 Then, during that day, was the opportunity to have pushed forward and 
 cut a road through Von der Tann's broken and dispirited army to Paris. 
 One hundred and forty-two German officers fell at Coulmiers, dead or 
 wounded. From this their loss may be judged. Tliey assert it to have been 
 only 700 killed and wounded, but more, far more, than that number were 
 buried, and still more brought into the Ambulances of Orleans. The 
 burying parties affirm that they interred four Germans for every 
 Frenchman, and the French losses were severe — 2,000 hors de combat by 
 their own account. 
 
 On the nth the Germans further retreated to Toury and the French 
 advanced to Artenay, too late, for reinforcements were rapidly coming up, 
 and the German army withdrew to Epernon, about thirty miles from 
 Versailles, leaving the French in quiet possession of Orleans and its 
 immediate neighbourhood. Before quitting this subject we may remark 
 that in a letter in the 'Times,' dated from Tours, November 18, and called 
 Central France, the writer says of the Germans, as regards their losses in 
 this battle, that there is evidently concealment on their side, and that not 
 more than 100 dead bodies were found on the field. He did not know, as 
 we knew and proved afterwards, that large numbers of dead were burned 
 in the lonely farms around, and not only then, but in the later battles of 
 
 * The rout of Sir John Fastolf (model for Falstaff) by Joan of Arc in 1429 was at Patay, 1 1 km 
 north of Coulmiers.
 
 THE ONLY VICTORY. 183 
 
 the first week in December. In Orleans, over 1,000 German wounded were 
 left in their military Ambulances, so utterly deserted that for twenty-four 
 hours no one went near them, not being aware that Surgeons, Infirmiers, 
 and all, had gone. It was the compassionate French people who, 
 discovering this, gave notice of it to their parish priests, and it being 
 brought to the Bishop, he ordered the Mother of the Novices in the 
 Convent of St. Aignan,* Mere Tlierese de la Croix, to go round herself, 
 and make arrangements for the nursing of every one of these deserted 
 Ambulances. In one the meat for the soup was found ready chopped, but 
 the fire was unlighted, the attendants all gone, and tlie hundred poor 
 fellows left to the chance of discovery by some good Samaritan. Long 
 before night French Sisters and French civil surgeons were giving the 
 kindest care to their helpless enemies — enemies no longer now wounded, 
 and left to their mercy. 
 
 But one pretty little romantic incident may please some of our readers. 
 A young Bavarian officer had been quartered in a distinguished French 
 family, and there, in spite of their different nahonalities, 'love was still the 
 lord of all.'t He left with Ws regiment to fight at Coulmiers. When all was 
 lost, and it seemed too probable that, in the chance of war, he might never 
 see Orleans again till peace was declared, if his life were spared so long, he 
 obtained a few hours' leave, and rushed back to bid his lady-love farewell. 
 He lingered, as lovers will, and was made prisoner by the French. He was 
 sent to Pau, and we give the sequel here. When peace was declared, and he 
 was free, the faithful soldier came back to Orleans, and his fidelity met its 
 reward. The marriage has by this time been celebrated, and even the 
 Orleanais, bitterly as they object to intermarriages with the enemy, can but 
 smile and say, after all, 'He is only a Bavarian, and he loved her so well.' 
 
 So quiet and noiseless was the entry of the French, that the 
 inhabitants, looking from, their windows, could hardly believe their eyes; 
 but when they discovered the truth they gave themselves up to the 
 wildest expressions of joy. But to their honour be it said that every 
 wounded man and prisoner met with the kindest treatment. Fifty 
 Germans were nursed in the Bishop's own palace, and the fact of the 
 
 * The sisterhood of St. Aignan was not a nursing order. Out of its 60 members in Orleans only 
 one was really competent to nurse a wounded man. — SUM 
 
 t "It was an English ladye bright, 
 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 
 And she would marry a Scottish knight. 
 For Love will still be lord of all." — Sir Walter Scott's The Lay of the Last Minstrel Canto 6, 
 Stanza 11.
 
 184 THE ONLY VICTORY. 
 
 universal charity of the iiihabitants of Orleans to their helpless enemies 
 has been testified to by the German generals and principal medical 
 officers. There is no single instance of cruelty or neglect established 
 against anyone in Orleans during the space of the French occupation. We 
 found our quarters at the Hotel d'Orleans rather noisy, and resolved to 
 seek for private lodgings. 
 
 Dr. Pratt was in England, and till his retuni Dr. Tilghman said he 
 could not employ us, as he had opened a letter from Colonel Loyd- 
 Lindsay to Dr. Pratt (which letter he did not show us), and he dare not, in 
 the face of that, ask us to work under them, till Dr. Pratt returned. We 
 replied we had done the work in England Dr. Pratt had sent us to do, we 
 had brought out the money for him, and stores we could give him if we 
 worked with him; but we begged Dr. Tilghman distinctly to understand 
 that our services were required in three other quarters. We should wait 
 Dr. Pratt's return, and if he did not require us accept one of these offers; 
 but we felt in honour bound to keep our promises first. I asked if Dr. 
 Tilghman had not expected us. He said, 'Yes; it was Colonel Loyd- 
 Lindsay's letter that prevented his putting us at once on work.' 
 
 Now, we were beginning to think that we could do better service 
 attached to one of the Bishop's Ambulances, and rather hoped we should be 
 released. Next day we presented ourselves to a gentleman high in the French 
 International, who had called upon us directly we arrived, and on our saying 
 we had brought money for the Anglo-American Ambulance, he said they 
 had left tlie city. They had been ordered to do so by French authority. We 
 had some trouble to convince him they were still there. Not to enter into 
 details, we left with the honest conviction that for us it would be better to 
 take some other service. We went to the Palace. The celebrated Monseigneur 
 Dupanloup* received us most kindly, and next day we went, at his desire 
 and request, to the Convent of St. -Marc, where he had an Ambulance, and 
 where he begged for our assistance, at least till we were obliged, if we were 
 really compelled by honour to do so, to return to our old Ambulance, the 
 Anglo-American. A charming sister, tlie Mother of the Novices, came to fetch 
 us, in a light covered car, drawn by a white pony named Cocotte. We drove 
 dovm a street, past the Palace, or Eveche,* as it was called, across the 
 boulevard, over a bridge that crossed the railway, down a road with houses 
 
 * 
 
 Monseigneur Felix- Antoine-Philibert Dupanloup (1802-1878) revitalized parochial education 
 and got state funding for it legalized. He taught the painter Paul Gauguin in an Orleans Catholic 
 junior seminary which Gauguin (in his book Avant et apris Paris 1 923, p. 194) accused of trying to 
 stifle his best natural instincts. 
 
 From eveque meaning bishop
 
 THE ONLY VICTORY. 185 
 
 and gardens each side, the Faubourg St.-Marc* till we came to a high blank 
 wall, as it seemed, with a large door in the centre. 
 
 The coachman, or ratlier driver, Pierre, rang the bell; the door opened 
 as of itself by a cord pulled in the lodge at tlie side, and we found ourselves 
 in a covered entrance, a square court-yard before us, with trees and shrubs 
 and a statvie of the Virgin in the centre, and beyond a very large white 
 house, four storeys high, with many windows. On our right a wing oi\ly 
 two storeys high, on our left a low covered passage leading from the main 
 buildings to those through which we had entered, and which we r\ow saw 
 were also a two-storeyed range, the lower windows opening on a passage 
 below the level of the courtyard. We entered the central building by a glass 
 door, and we were in a corridor with a pavement of black and white 
 marble; opposite to us another glass door, opening iiito the interior of the 
 house, the little hall going through to a large garden; on our right, two 
 small rooms, on our left, a wide staircase of polished oak descending to the 
 basement and ascending to the top of the house, and beyond it another 
 small room. The lower floor, except this centre part, consisted of two large 
 halls and a room at the further end on the left. These two large halls were 
 already arranged for wounded, also the room beyond, and were called 
 afterwards, when all was organised, the Salle St.-George (for French), the 
 Salle St.-Aignan (for Germans), whilst the room beyond was for very bad 
 cases. The two small rooms inside the hall-door were first a room for 
 preparing linen, and used also for operations; and the second, looking into 
 the garden, la petite Ambulance anglaise for sous-ojficiers (French), the one 
 other opposite being for sous-offiders (German); and this, when we first 
 arrived, was all that was used — 19 beds in Salle St.-George, 21 in Salle St.- 
 Aignan, and 8 in the two small rooms, 48 in all. 
 
 We ascended the stairs to the third floor, and were shown three nice 
 rooms, one for each of us and one for the stores, when they arrived, and 
 were then taken down to a snug and comfortable parlour, where an 
 elegant little lunch was prepared. We were delighted with the house and 
 its capabilities, and resolved, if possible, to establish an Ambulance on a 
 larger scale, or rather assist the good Sisters to develope the one they had. 
 We told them we must await Dr. Pratt's return before we could decide, 
 and meantime we held consultation as to the capabilities of the house. 
 Two more rooms upstairs on the first floor could be prepared for 
 wounded, two others in the infirmary, in the entrance block of buildings. 
 
 * Here 'faubourg' means a district within a city (a usage current today in New Orleans). Formerly 
 a faubourg was a district outside a city's walls; hence it can also now mean a suburb.
 
 186 THE ONLY VICTORY. 
 
 and eight beds in a large wooden building that had been used as a chapel, 
 thence called La Chapelle-de-Bois; and there was a possibility, if required, 
 of more rooms in the gardener's house opening into the stable-yard, and 
 in a school-house now occupied as a military post by the French. These 
 two were afterwards called the "Basse-Cour' and "La Poste,' and the day 
 came too soon when all were crowded with wounded. Thus we have an 
 idea of the Maison Mere, as our house was called, to distinguish it from 
 the Maison Marie across the garden, which opened on to the other 
 faubourg, the Faubourg Bourgogne, and this house, too, which belonged 
 to our convent, was also prepared for wounded. 
 
 Both convents were educational establishments — the Maison Mere at 
 St.-Marc for a first-class education, and the Maison Marie, Faubourg 
 Bourgogne, for poor scholars and orphans. Some thirty or forty Sisters lived 
 in the two houses, and a more cheerful, friendly; kiiid-hearted set we never 
 could wish to live amongst — no gloom, no bigotry, no distrvist. They 
 received the strangers with open arms, and in twenty-four hours we were 
 part and parcel of the establishment, and a friendship and affection sprang 
 up betwixt many of the Sisters and ourselves that will last while life endures. 
 There was a large building used as a washhouse or 'lingerie,' and a kitchen 
 that could cook for a hundred, so we started with imusual advantages. 
 Linen, medicines, and money were all tliat was needed to enlarge the 
 Ambulance and make it most efficient, and then we could proceed; and we 
 anxiously waited our chief's return to know what we were to do. 
 
 The city meantime was rapidly filling with troops. General d'Aurelle 
 de Paladines had his head-quarters there, and daily received 
 reinforcements. Everything was gay and cheerful, and no one doubted of 
 ultimate victory. Arms and ammunition arrived by every train, and long 
 convoys of heavy artillery blocked the roads. The French gun factories 
 tvirned out 200 rifles and six cannon every day, and by November 11th, 
 215,000 Remington rifles and 26,000,000 cartridges had been landed at 
 Havre from America.* Everything foreboded the great struggle so soon to 
 come off. The Lycee, the Grand Seminary, the Littie Seminary, the Casernes 
 St.-Jean, St.-Charles, and d'Etapes, were all fitted up as Ambulances; also, 
 the Convents of St. Mart, Ste. Marie, the Visitation, tiie Recouvrance, the 
 Sacre Coeur, the Little Sisters of ti^e Poor, and many others. 
 
 With the troops came many Ambulance corps. The splendid 
 arrangements of the Ambulance de Lyon may be especially noticed. Every 
 
 Both American and British manufacturers unloaded stocks of obsolescent rifles on France, 
 which was swamped with 18 different models, each needing a different calibre of ammunition.
 
 THE ONLY VICTORY. 187 
 
 man was unpaid; they took the simplest requisitions, and lived in the 
 humblest lodgings, tliough all were men well known in the hospitals of 
 Lyons. The Ambulances du Puy-de-D6me, du Midi, and several others, 
 took up their head-quarters in Orleans, and sent detachments with the 
 army for field service. Tlie Bishop addressed an eloquent appeal to the 
 ladies of Orleans to aid in the good work, and they at first proposed to 
 occupy and fit up the unused Church of St. Euverte; but a committee of 
 medical men of Orleans decided that it was ui\healthy, that it could not be 
 sufficiently warmed or ventilated, and was unfit for hospital use. In the 
 face of this it was taken up by tlie Anglo-American Ambulance, a very 
 large sum expended in arranging it; but, as we shall see, tlie opiiiion of the 
 medical men of the place was, after all, correct. 
 
 A great number of other Ambulances were formed, and began to fill 
 fast with cases of dysentery, fever, rheumatism, and small-pox,* and aid 
 to support present and coming efforts was earnestly sought for on all 
 sides. Then was the time to have sent into Orleans some of the vast store 
 of supplies the British Society possessed; but none arrived. There was a 
 rumour of a depot to be formed at this centre of action; but it never was 
 done. Colonel Reilly met us in the courtyard of the Hotel d'Orleans, and 
 told us he had received a telegram from Colonel Loyd-Lindsay, 
 authorising him to give away 1,000/.; and we consulted together who was 
 to have it. It ended in 200/. being given to the Bishop, 300/. to the Anglo- 
 American, and the rest to some of the French Ambulances in the field — 
 the 5th International, a very celebrated one, being included. Every day 
 some band or other played in the Place Martroi, and every day, and twice 
 a day, official announcements, written in the crookedest of hands, were 
 stuck up on the gate of the Mairie, to be devoured by the admiring crowd. 
 The result was universal confusion as to what was going on. All that we 
 could find out was that Prince Frederick Charles was at Montargis (which, 
 by the way, he left 8,000 francs in debt for extras over and above 
 requisitions), and that daily skirmishes occurred all over the department 
 with varying success. 
 
 The Prussians advanced on Artenay and were repulsed, shelled 
 Neuville and were driven back, leaving eighty prisoners in the hands of 
 the 29th of the line, whom we met being marched into Orleans, looking 
 rather cheerful than otherwise, and evidently glad to be out of it. We 
 began to wonder how long all this would go on. Every day was a 
 
 * There were 6,000 cases in Orleans. Soldiers were isolated in a barrack for the purpose. The 
 authors escaped infection by examining every patient every day; they found only three cases and 
 sent them off directly. — StJM
 
 188 THE ONLY VICTORY. 
 
 repetition of the day before. We had some trouble to get our baggage, but 
 M. de la Thouanne, of the French International, went off to Tours and sent 
 it down to Orleans. It had been piled in the Tours station for several days, 
 and one gentleman wrote to Messrs. Piesse and Lubin, whose names were 
 marked on the bales, to know if he could not take possession of it. This 
 was declined with thanks, and it arrived safely at the convent in time to be 
 of the greatest service. Meantime we heard, to our sorrow and annoyance, 
 that Dr. Pratt in London had disowned us as his authorised agents, and, 
 hearing he had arrived, we sent for him. He delayed calling for several 
 days, and then came alone. We declined to see him except in the presence 
 of his staff, and he returned next day with Drs. May, Tilghman, and 
 M'Kellar. He expressed his sincere regret for what he had done; told us 
 that his wife and family wept bitterly when his letter appeared in the 
 'Times,' and reproached him for his conduct; that he had fully authorised 
 us to do all we had done but ask aid from the British Society, except as 
 regarded the putting his men on their staff, and was quite conscious that 
 in his flurry, excitement, and distress at Versailles he had not explained 
 this to us, nor made any exception, and he promised to write a letter to the 
 'Times,' stating this. So we shook hands, trusting to his honour. They had 
 only sixty German wounded then, but were about to open the Church of 
 St. Euverte for French wounded; we therefore gave them over the money 
 sent by the French Committee, and settled that, for the next few days at all 
 events, until the church was opened and the wounded really came in, we 
 should remain where we were, to assist in tlie Bishop's Ambulance, and 
 decide afterwards, when we saw what work there was. 
 
 The following morning he called again, accompanied by Mr. Olliffe, 
 and brought the copy of the letter. We mutiially agreed to the alteration of 
 a sentence, and it was to be sent to Mrs. Pratt, to forward through a friend 
 to the 'Times.' The baggage was, by agreement, to remain till we had 
 decided where to work. Thus ended the last week of November. The 
 storm was gathering, and we watched the course of events with intense 
 interest. On Monday, November 28, the main body of the army was to 
 advance by Patay and Artenay, and on the day before a grand military 
 mass was to be celebrated in the Cathedral of Ste. Croix, to pray for and 
 bless the arms of France. This was the opening scene of that week so truly 
 called the Week of Battle.
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 189 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 The sun shone very brightly on that Sunday morning, November 27th. The 
 streets were crowded with men, women, and children, in holiday 
 costume. Peasants from surrouriding villages had come in to meet some 
 brother or son in la jeune arniee;* the women in clean white caps, and the 
 men in gay waistcoats and head-dresses of various colour and form. 
 Zouaves lounged along with their red fez on the back of their heads, and 
 artillery officers dashed about in all directions, bound on imperative and 
 imaginary errands. It was towards the Cathedral that the stream of people 
 set in. There every chair was occupied and the aisles filled witli soldiery; 
 the nave was lined with sailors from the frigate 'Jeanne d'Arc,' their 
 drawn cutlasses on their shoulders; the choir was reserved for officers and 
 the National Guard; and when at nine o'clock the clanging of the bells 
 ceased, there was not a vacant space in the church. The General and his 
 staff had entered by a side door, and Mass commenced, the Bishop 
 officiating. The service was very short, and the music, which was 
 executed by the band of the National Guards, very fine; but tlie crowning 
 effect was when, after the consecration, the Bishop tvirned to the kneeling 
 crowd and raised the Host, iii blessing, high above his head. The sailors 
 dropped on one knee, lowering their cutlasses on the pavement with a 
 clash, and a breathless silence ensued, whilst every eye was fixed on that 
 central figure standing on the steps of the high altar, the sunlight striking 
 on his silver hair and rich robes — a silence broken by soft, exquisite, 
 plaintive music, so touching that it was a relief when the Bishop turned 
 away, the sailors and soldiers sprang up and lowered their arms, and we 
 breathed again. 
 
 It was soon over after this. The band broke into a splendid triumphal 
 march, and General d'Aurelle de Paladines, followed by his staff, came 
 down the nave, looking hopeful and cheerful. Did he believe in victory 
 
 * The newly formed anny. On 2 November all men aged 21 to 40 were made liable for military 
 duty. By the end of the war only the unmarried had been called up — but they totalled 578,900. 
 However it took a long time to train the levies and it was difficult to move large groups of men 
 rapidly in the field because too few officers were available.
 
 190 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 then, or did he know how the lines were closing round him, and the road 
 to Paris was blocked by the Red Princet and his veteran army? We saw 
 amidst the officers who followed the General the familiar dress of our 
 own Royal Artillery, and we hoped that no stray shot would hit the 
 gallant military attache, whose kindly ways and frank face had already 
 won the good-will of the French soldiery. 
 
 On Monday the city was half emptied of troops. We received a few 
 slightly wounded men from some outpost skirmishes, and made all 
 preparations for the coming week. Rations were allowed by the town for 
 each wounded or sick man. Tliey had been very liberal during the 
 German rule. There was plenty tlien, and the conquerors did not care 
 what the town might have to pay afterwards. It was managed on a very 
 regular system; orders were issued for the things required, signed by the 
 surgeon of the Ambulance, and countersigned at the Mairie. This order, 
 being presented to the tradesman, was cashed by him in the article he 
 dealt in; and when presented at the Mairie after the war was over, was to 
 be paid from the funds of the town. 
 
 When the expenditure exceeds the income, these funds have to be 
 raised by extra local taxes. Therefore, as the tradespeople have to pay 
 these extra taxes, it was literally giving their things away, for they had to 
 supply the funds by which they themselves were to be paid. It is not 
 surprising, therefore, that the Maire struck off many items which the 
 German Commandant de Place had sanctioned. Good wine, choice 
 vegetables, poultry, and fruit, for the tables of the surgeons of some of the 
 Ambulances, were no longer given, and I met an Infirmier of one of them 
 who, showing me his dishonoured cheque for sundry dainties, said he 
 thought the Maire was right. Gentlemen should not come to help and cost 
 the poor French such a sum to keep; but what his masters would say he 
 did not know, and just as they were going to have a dinner-party, too! We 
 had had wine, meat, bread, butter, milk, coffee, sugar, and vegetables 
 granted, so many ounces for each man; now all was cut off, except bread 
 and meat, the wood for firing and kitchen use being reduced by half, and 
 the vegetables also to one sou* per man. 
 
 It was a hard struggle to get on. The good Sisters used their own 
 vegetables. We bought two casks of wine and some firewood, but how we 
 lamented over the stores so wasted in other places, and the money thrown 
 away in telegrams and odds and ends! Fifty pounds would have enabled 
 
 t Prince Charles Frederick was nicknamed from the colour of his favourite hussar uniform. 
 A purchasing power of about 50 pence or 70 cents in today's money.
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 191 
 
 US then to lay in a stock that would have been invaluable of sugar, 
 candles, wood, wine, soap, coffee, and extract of meat. With that sum we 
 could have kept the whole Ambulance in plenty for the winter. We had 
 money of our own; but the cheque, sent at last by the National Society, 
 instead of the gold which I ought to have had in London, was useless, and 
 we were obliged to husband our resources. 
 
 That day, too, came a piteous request from the French ladies at 
 Caserne d'Etapes for help. Seven hundred wounded and sick were there, 
 and very little charpie, very few bandages, no carbolic acid, no shirts, no 
 drawers, no linen pieces for dressings. The Germans had taken everything 
 during their occupation. Not even a lancet could be bought in the city, 
 and medicines were most rare, and frightfully dear. Tliey had applied, 
 through the Bishop, to the British Committee. The Bishop had received a 
 few bales of linen from them, brought out by a special messenger; and 
 there was little or nothing at Tours. Could we, would we help them? The 
 French Society was utterly overwhelmed, and they were in despair. We 
 could not refuse. Cocotte was harnessed to the convent cart, and we took 
 them what we felt we could spare. (We had already sent a provision to the 
 Bishop.) Their delight and gratitude were unbounded. 
 
 All this time Orleans was being put in a state of defence. Tlie bridges 
 over the Loire were mined, trenches were dug, and batteries planted,* 
 though everyone said the Germans would never come back there. On the 
 Tuesday I went out to see. Close by our house was the Church of St. Marc, 
 a quiet little village church. In the yard was a bivouac of troopers who 
 rode up and down the fields, superintending the workmen. Women were 
 pulling up the vine-stakes and placing them crossways, to hinder the 
 advance of cavalry, they said. My idea was that it was not probable 
 cavalry would charge up a slope against a mud wall, for such was the face 
 of the entrenchment, and that the stakes would be just as useful against 
 infantry. They must have been pulled up before any body of men, unless 
 mounted on stilts, could have marched over the ground. There had been 
 rain every night, and the ground was a perfect bog. The soft mud clung to 
 my boots, till I slipped and slided about, and my companion, a good- 
 natured, chatty, peasant woman, decided that those 'dogs of Prussians 
 would be well tired out before they came near the rifles of the boys hidden 
 in the trenches.' 
 
 We walked as far as the great battery which the sailors were 
 constructing, and we admired the huge 'marine pieces,' as the ship guns 
 
 * Artillery emplacements set up.
 
 192 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 were called, which tliey were placing in position. The battery was on a 
 slight rise, and overiooked the ground beyond the trenches. They told us 
 the forest of Orleans was so fortified that it was impassable: the roads 
 were cut, and ambuscades* made in every direction. But as there were 
 ways and means of getting at Orleans round about the forest without 
 coming through it, I never had the profound faith in that forest as an 
 impassable obstacle to Prince Frederick Charles that the natives had. 
 
 We met a surgeon of the Anglo-American Ambulance, and he told us 
 how he and a friend, on hearing of the fighting at Neuville the preceding 
 Thursday, had gone out to look for wounded, had found quarters in the 
 village inn, and there, in the stable, was the body of a Prussian officer 
 evidently of high position. He had been brought in terribly wounded, and 
 survived but a few minutes. A herald with a white flag arrived and 
 claimed the body, and it was identified as that of Count Plater.t Reports 
 were current of a victory of the French at Beaune-le-Rolande, a town 
 beyond the forest in the direction of Montargis; but it was said that Prince 
 Frederick Charles was at Pithiviers in great force. All the afternoon 
 crowds besieged the Mairie in search of news, and muddy dragoons rode 
 in from the front with various orders. 
 
 There were in the Maison Marie, our other house in the Faubourg 
 Bourgogne, many Bavarian wounded. On going over there we found that 
 they were ordered to leave Orleans by the evening train. They were all in 
 a state of great distress and alarm; and the Mother Superior begged me to 
 explain to them where they were going. She had provided a loaf of bread 
 and a flask of wine for each man, and their fear and regret were that they 
 were leaving their quiet resting-place, and were to be sent to rejoin their 
 regiments. I endeavoured as gently as possible to explain that being 
 prisoners they would be sent to the south of France, to Pau, there to 
 remain during the war, or hll exchanged. To my astonishment, one 
 stalwart sergeant seized my hand and nearly embraced me, and the rest 
 uttered violent exclamations of joy. 'To Pau! to Pau! hurrah! Not to the 
 front; not to fight again. Bismarck caput! Bismarck caput!' This 
 mysterious phrase, I afterwards discovered, is supposed to be derived 
 from 'coupe tete' (cut his head oif)i It was always used about Bismarck 
 
 * 
 
 Ambushes 
 
 t Melior mors macula (Better Death Than Blemish) was the family motto of the Platers, one of the 
 twelve wealthiest and most influential families in eighteenth century Poland. 
 ? TTiis is a folk etymology, ingenious but false. The German soldiers were not saying 'caput,' the 
 Latm for 'head,' but speaking their own language in which kaputt,' means 'broken', 'done for.' It 
 was used in British army slang during both World Wars, and written 'kaput.'
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 193 
 
 by the German soldiers, as he was a special object of detestation, and also 
 with regard to everyone else they disliked, or to express death; for 
 instance: 'Where is Franz? Has he rejoined his regiment?' 'Nein, meine 
 Schwester; er ist caput' (No, my sister; he is dead). I said to my Bavarian 
 friends, 'So, then, you would rather be prisoners than fight?' 'Surely,' 
 said my friend; 'poor Bavarians always first in fight, last at supper. When 
 we gain, brave Germans always conquerors; when we were beaten at 
 Orleans, stupid Bavarians, all tlieir fault. Only let us get home to the 
 wives and children in Bavaria; see if we fight any more for Bismarck 
 caput.' And this sentiment, in various forms, we heard over and over 
 again. Tlie poor fellows bade us a most grateful and friendly farewell, the 
 good Mother rushing from one to the other, to see that Carl had his bread, 
 and Adolph was well wrapped up round the tliroat, and Johami had his 
 stick (he was a little lame still), and lamenting over her patients as if they 
 had been countrymen and sons. 
 
 We heard that the armies were facing each other in a long line 
 extending over many miles of country. Now I wish specially to notice the 
 utter ignorance in which we of Orleans lived as to all that passed outside. 
 We read on the affiches* on the Mairie wall of a succession of small 
 victories, of convoys cut off, and prisoners taken. We knew Prince 
 Frederick Charles was at Montargis or Pithiviers, or thereabouts; but of all 
 the military movements that took place around Orleans we were and are 
 profoundly ignorant. We can but give our own impressions of what we 
 saw. Certainly everyone was full of hope and confidence, and never for a 
 moment believed the Army of the Loire could be defeated. On the 30th 
 (Wednesday) the telegrams spoke of a repulse of the Germans at Beaune- 
 le-Rolande. After our morning's work we went out into the town, and 
 found troops and artillery passing through it to the front. We saw a lady 
 who arrived from Tours to go to Montargis, and found it impossible to get 
 a carriage. Whilst she was still lamenting her hard fate, a gentleman 
 entered the hotel where we had called in search of letters, and their 
 meeting was most enthusiastic. It was her husband. He had come in from 
 Montargis, intending to go to Tours, for the purpose of telling her that all 
 the roads were cut, and she could not reach her home. It must be left to 
 the mercy of the invaders. 
 
 We heard that the French had withdrawn from Beaune, even after 
 their victory, and it seemed to us the Germans were approaching; but this 
 was indignantly denied. We heard, too, that wounded were hourly 
 
 Notices.
 
 194 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 expected, and waited till 11 P.M.; then, tliinking it too late, went to bed and 
 to sleep. But at 1 A.M. a Sister rushed into the room. There were three or 
 four carts of wounded come; would we come down? We dressed in haste. 
 How cold it was! how bitterly the December wind blew in as we opened 
 the court-yard door! There, indeed, were four large waggons full of 
 wounded men. The drivers were holding lanterns by the horses' heads, 
 and the Infirmiers, of whom, at that time, we had but three, were handing 
 out knapsacks and muskets. t The poor creatures were half frozen with an 
 eleven hours' journey in a biting frost. It was with difficulty we could get 
 them into the house. They were, of course, not the worst wounded — 
 those could not be removed for a day or two — but some who that night 
 seemed but little hurt were with us for three months afterwards, still 
 almost helpless invalids. What a ragged, muddy, dirty, miserable lot they 
 looked, as they leant against the walls, or lay down on the floor, in the 
 dim gas-light. Fires were soon blazing in the kitchen and infirmary, and 
 we took them one by one and pointed out their beds. Hot soup was 
 brought, and we would have taken off their coats and boots and redressed 
 tlieir wounds, but fatigue overpowered them, and the head nursing Sister 
 and ourselves decided to let them lie as they were and sleep till morning. 
 
 This was now the 1st of December. Having settled our patients for the 
 night, or rather morning, we went back to our room, very cold and very 
 tired. The usual routine of inspecting the wounds took place about 10 
 A.M., and we prepared clean shirts for all the men as soon as they were 
 washed and dressed; but about 11 A.M. more wounded were sent in, and 
 it was only possible to dress the wounds, with the prospect of making 
 them comfortable before evening. Just after dinner came a sudden order 
 for every man who could travel to be evacuated. Many wounded were 
 expected, and the Orleans Ambulances must be cleared at once. Now that 
 they were rested and refreshed, most of them found themselves able to go 
 to the train. Two or three remained, and were transferred to one of the 
 large halls, and the infirmary was again empty. 
 
 Later in the day we went into the city. A huge crowd surrounded the 
 Mairie, and the good news flew from lip to lip. Ducrot had made a 
 successful sortie from Paris; Prince Frederick Charles was retreating 
 
 t At this time breech-loading rifles had largely replaced muzzle-loading muskets, which required 
 the soldier to load and pack wadding, gunpowder, and a musket ball. A rifle only needed a 
 cartridge to be inserted into the breech, and it could be reloaded immediately after firing. Muskets 
 had been revolutionized in 1848 when French Army Captain Claude Minie perfected the Minie 
 ball, a cylindro-conoidal bullet which would expand and fit tightly into the spiral grooves of a 
 rifled barrel. Rifling puts a spin on the bullet, thereby increasing its accuracy.
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 195 
 
 before the Army of the Loire; the French outposts were at Tivernon, a 
 station on the Orleans Railway beyond Tours; the two generals, D' Aurelle 
 de Paladines and Ducrot, would crush the Prince's army between them. 
 The greatest enthusiasm prevailed, and the most confident opinions were 
 given on every side that in three weeks the Germans would be driven 
 across the Rhine. Some even went so far as to say that the King of Prussia 
 had evacuated Versailles, which was occupied by General Trochu, and 
 had withdrawn to Rheims. The streets presented a singular appearance 
 workmen in muddy trousers and jackets going to and from the trenches, 
 half-equipped Gardes Mobiles coming in by every road and every train, 
 all anxious to go to the front, and D' Aurelle de Paladines! his name on 
 every lip, the hero, the saviour! We took home a great many daily journals 
 — the 'Loiret,' the 'Impartial du Loiret,' and the 'Gazette nationale' — and 
 our entrance into the long halls of the Ambulance was the signal for a 
 scene of joy that was overpowering. Whilst I read the despatch aloud, and 
 Louise handed round the papers to those too ill to move, all who could 
 rise from their bed crowded round me and greeted every paragraph of 
 Gambetta's florid despatch with almost tearful delight. 
 
 It was impossible, being English, not to feel French just then. It might 
 have been an English hospital; it might have been the third edition of 
 some evening paper; it might have told how Kent and Sussex were 
 evacuated by an invader, how London was freed, and some great English 
 general had cut his way through the lines, and some other great general 
 leading our Volunteers, our Francs-tireurs, our citizen soldiers, side by 
 side with regiments just come from India, and corps of colonists from 
 Australia and New Zealand and Canada, were beating back the foreign 
 foe, and soon we should see them recrossing the Channel, and we should 
 be left in peace. And so we cried 'Vive la France!' and shook hands all 
 round ii Vanglaise, and were very happy. To their honour be it spoken, the 
 Bavarians and Prussians entered into the Frenchmen's joy. The war 
 would be over, they should go home; and home to a German is more than 
 glory. 
 
 It was a very happy evening in the Ambulance and in the city too. But 
 next day told a different tale. It was a bright sunny morning, and about 
 rune o'clock the Mother Superior came to tell us the Bishop had ordered a 
 three days' exposition of the Sacrament,* that prayers might be 
 continually offered for the triumph of the French arms; also, that the flags 
 
 * The consecrated host was placed in a monstrance, that is a container with a glass window 
 through which the wafer blessed by the priest can be viewed.
 
 196 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 were to be immediately put up on the Cathedral towers, in honour of the 
 victory already announced. But even as she spoke a sullen sound came on 
 the simny air, the low, deep, distant booming of cannon. How could the 
 Germans be so near if indeed it were true that they were in full retreat? 
 There was no time to speculate on this, for the arrival of wounded was 
 announced, and going down we fouiid every hall and corridor crowded — 
 poor fellows! some lying on the groimd, their heads on their knapsacks, 
 some with folded arms, half sleeping on the long table in the centre, all 
 weary, dirty, and hungry. Tliey had heard of no victory by Paris; they 
 only knew of their own retreat from Beaune-le-Rolande before Prince 
 Frederick Charles, ordered to fight in retreat before they were defeated, 
 when they had beaten back the attacking enemy from the positions they 
 held, and they muttered dark threats against tlie authors of such treason. 
 
 One by one we examined their wounds and dressed them; the worst 
 cases were put to bed, the others prepared as far as we could to be sent on 
 that afternoon to the rear. Amongst them was a captain of National 
 Guards. He had been wounded at Beaune-le-Rolande, and placed in a 
 house close by, which had been made an Ambulance. The Prussians had 
 fired on this house, it was burned, and the poor wounded crawled out to 
 another place of shelter. That, too, was fired on and burned, in spite of the 
 Red-Cross flag. Again they escaped to a third place of refuge, and from 
 thence, were brought in country waggons to us. For the truth of this 
 several men of his corps who were with him answered also. About two 
 o'clock, just as we were thinking of littering down* the long corridors 
 with straw for the wounded, every bed being full, the Intendant militaire, 
 M. de la Cape, came down to say every man who could safely leave must 
 go by the train at three o'clock. This was utterly unexpected, and a scene 
 of confusion ensued. The coats and boots of all had been sent to be 
 cleaned and their shirts to be washed, to be ready for next day; but some 
 idea got abroad, and it was a true one, as it turned out, that the Germans 
 were advancing very fast. The low booming of the cannon was distinctly 
 heard, and, as we found afterwards, there was hard fighting at Bazoches 
 des-Hautes, so every man was anxious to get away beyond the possible 
 reach of the Germans, and even those whose wounds were serious, if they 
 were in the shoulder or arm, insisted on their perfect ability to travel any 
 
 distance. 
 
 Amongst the most anxious to depart was a marechal-des-logis (a sub- 
 officer of artillery). He was severely wounded in the thigh, but go he 
 
 Covering (to make bedding).
 
 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 197 
 
 would; nothing should stop him. It was evident to us that to do so would 
 be fatal to him, and Louise, with the greatest promptitude and decision, 
 caught hold of his trousers, just as he was about to rise from his bed, and 
 with her huge scissors slit them up at the side, rendering it impossible for 
 liim to put them on. It was an effectual preventive, and often afterwards 
 he said he owed her his life, and used to tell the tale of her cutting up his 
 trousers with the greatest enjoyment. That he never resented his captivity 
 is proved by a very grateful letter we received from him, signed 'For life, 
 your devoted and grateful friend.' One poor boy, too, we grieved for. He 
 had been in the Ambulance since October, he was very delicate and little 
 used to rough it, and 'Emile' was the spoiled child of the whole convent. 
 He was nobly born and highly educated, but had run away from home, 
 and was only a corporal in the Chasseurs de Vincennes, and it may be 
 imagined how little he relished leaving his comfortable quarters for an 
 uncertain railway journey and a possible night at the station. We wrapped 
 him up in a knitted vest and a flannel shirt, a huge comforter,* and 
 everything we could get on under his imiform, and he started with the 
 rest. After they were all off we discovered tliat two men who certainly 
 had small-pox, and had been ordered by the surgeon to the H6tel-Dieu,t 
 had succeeded in escaping. They would not remain in Orleans, to run the 
 risk of being made prisoners, and they had avoided the little cart prepared 
 to take them to Hospital, and where they had gone to no one knew. 
 
 Louise and myself, later in the day, went into the city. It was crowded 
 with peasantry from the neighbourhood, who had fled from the 
 advancing Prussians, for that advancing they were there was no doubt; 
 but still we tried to believe it could not be, and to tliink that what we were 
 told was true. D'Aurelle de Paladines was retreating, certainly; but it was 
 only a feint to draw the enemy within reach of the heavy siege-guns 
 planted around Orleans. The Place d'Etapes was full of waggons bringing 
 in fresh wounded, and everything looked disturbed and disquieted. We 
 went into the Cathedral; a few solitary worshippers were there — women 
 mostly, dressed in mourning. The Sacrament was exposed on the high 
 altar, and on the second step was a prie-dieut covered with purple velvet, 
 and a, little behind it, on either side, two others. At the centre one knelt 
 the good Bishop, so motionless that it was impossible to believe it was a 
 living man, his white head bent down in his hands; he was absorbed in 
 
 * Long scarf. 
 
 t Main city hospital. 
 
 t Prayer stool.
 
 198 THE WEEK OF BATTLE. 
 
 most intense prayer, his two Grand Vicars§ kneeling at the other prie-dieus. 
 We watched him for some time; there was not the faintest motion, not 
 even a rustle of his purple robe. The old familiar scene came back forcibly 
 as we looked at his earnest, rapt figure. Tlie soldiers of Israel were 
 fighting in the plain, and their prophet and leader was pleading on the 
 mountain top that the God of Israel would arise and save his people in 
 their hour of need. He had blessed them before they left for the battle; 
 he was praying for them now — if not to return victorious, to die as 
 Christians and soldiers should. # 
 
 We left the church feeling that, even if all were lost, France had 
 something left still in that grand old man, with his fervent faith and his 
 gallant disposition, his brilliant intellect and his loving, gentle heart. We 
 went home sadly, for the foreshadowing of sorrow was upon us. The 
 noise of the distant cannon had ceased; but what might to-morrow bring 
 forth? To our surprise, we found Emile. That enfant gdte, having 
 discovered that there was no chance of his starting before noon next day, 
 had quietly come back, to have, as he expressed it, a good supper and a 
 good night's rest. There were so many German prisoners going, and so 
 many other wounded and sick, that the trains for that day were all filled. I 
 must say that it confirmed our impression that things were going badly in 
 front, or the 'powers tliat be' would not have been so anxious to send 
 everybody to the rear. We resolved to hoist our Union-Jack next morning, 
 and so be prepared for any event under its friendly shelter, and having 
 ordered a pole on which to fix it, retired for the night with the comfortable 
 conviction that, come what might, we should be able to hold our own 
 against all comers. 
 
 8 In the Roman Catholic Church a vicar is priest who represents another, often higher-ranking, 
 member of the clergy. A grand vicar is a principal vicar, who in this case would have been 
 entitled to act for the Bishop. 
 
 # Precisely such a scene does not occur in the Bible. For example, when Moses went up the 
 mountain he did not have to ask for anything,God told him straight away that he would be granted 
 victory; and when Joshua sought God's help, he was down in the plain.
 
 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 199 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 LE DIMANCHE NOIR.* 
 
 It was quite dark on Friday evening before the noise of the 
 cannonade ceased. The poor people in the cottages around us were all in 
 a terrible state of alarm. Many left and went beyond the Loire. One poor 
 old man arrived at the convent door late in the evening; he led by the 
 bridle a rough pony, harnessed to a rougher cart, containing the 
 household goods, amongst them a mattress of blue and white check, on 
 which sat an old woman with a copper saucepan in her hand. They 
 begged for shelter in the convent, but it was impossible, crowded as it 
 was with wounded; for they had been coming in all the evening. 
 
 There was no room for anyone else, and had the report spread 
 abroad that safety was to be foimd in the convent of St. Marc, we should 
 have been overcrowded with refugees. So we had to request the poor old 
 couple to go on into Orleans, escorted by a stalwart Infirmier. We, as I 
 have said, retired to rest, and slept so soundly we did not even hear the 
 arrival of more carts of wounded, as when they came at 6 A.M. all the 
 world was up and stirring, ourselves excepted; we were not actually 
 wanted, and the good Sisters wovild not wake us. 
 
 At eight o'clock next morning, when our coffee was brought, the 
 thunder of the cannon began again louder than ever. We almost tliought 
 it must be our batteries close by opening fire, but the postman informed 
 us it was beyond Chevilly, eight miles off on the Paris road, and that we 
 should hear it nearer, for General d'Aurelle de Paladines was drawing 
 the Germans under the fire of the 'marine pieces,' and that we should 
 see them crushed. After the morning's work we went into the city. It 
 was very empty. Orderlies rode at a rapid rate up and down the streets, 
 and the Lyonnaise Ambulance passed us going to the front in splendid 
 order, the waggons for the wounded being properly covered in, as was 
 necessary in so sharp a frost, and the surgeons and dressers marching by 
 the side, with all surgical and medical requirements in a large case or 
 bag suspended from a leather belt, which crossed another supporting a 
 
 * Black Sunday.
 
 200 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 
 
 havre-sac* with the day's provisions. They were followed by a light cart 
 covered with oilcloth, in which were their stores. About ten minutes 
 afterwards the Ambulance du Puy-de-D6me went down the street and out 
 by \he Faubourg Banniere in similar order. Every man wore the Red-Cross 
 on his cap and the brassard on his arm, and both Ambulances were 
 accompanied by their chaplains, priests in broad beaver hatst and 
 soutanest well tucked up through the belt and havre-sac over the shoulder. 
 
 We saw maiiy carts coming in from the country with peasants flying 
 from their homes before the Prussian advance, and trains were being rapidly 
 despatched to Tours one after the other, regardless of timetables, crowded 
 with fugitives woimded. The boom of the cannon went on, sometimes 
 seeming more distant, sometimes nearer, and all sorts of rumours were in 
 circulation as to the result of the battle evidently going on all around us. Our 
 convent was full with woimded, so was the second house in the Faubourg 
 Bourgogne, 'Maison Marie.' The continual noise of the cannonade had 
 rendered everybody excited and nervous, and we were not sorry when, after 
 the early dinner, came a fresh order to send off every man we could. 
 
 As we crossed the court-yard to the infirmary to see to this, the sound 
 of the firing was nearer than ever, the ground actually vibrated under our 
 feet. The sun had gone in, the sky was overcast, and a chill wind whistled 
 through the leafless branches. Nothing more dreary and desolate could be 
 imagined than the ceaseless thunder of the cannon, the poor sick and 
 wounded huddling on their clothes to escape the advancing enemy, the 
 cold, biting wind, and the gloomy sky. The spoiled child Emile still 
 refused to go. Louise and I told him we fully believed the Prussians were 
 rapidly gaining ground, and the city might be taken that night. It was 
 perhaps his last chance of freedom, and we urged him to go. At last he 
 consented, strapped on his knapsack, and went up tlie road after his 
 comrades. The wind whirled up the dust in clouds, and just as they were 
 hidden from sight a report so loud that it shook the very window-frames 
 startled the Mother Superior and the good Sisters. Only two men were left 
 in the infirmary, which looked upon the road, and it was thought best to 
 remove them into the main building, for fear of shells. Under the convent 
 
 Here means haversack (a single strapped bag worn over one shoulder) though Larousse defines 
 'havre-sac' as a knap-sack (supported on the back by two shoulder straps). 
 
 t Beaver fiir has hairs ending in little barbs that interlock when pressed, making a solid fabric 
 called a felt. Starting in the early 17'^ century, no proper European gentleman appeared in public 
 without a hat made of beaver felt.. In 1840 the fashion changed to silk, and only the religious kept 
 on wearing beaver hats. 
 
 t A long cassock with buttons down the front; worn by Roman Catholic priests.
 
 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 201 
 
 were great vaults on which part of it was built; they were in the garden 
 and covered deep by earth, certainly bomb-proof, and here we could 
 resort in case the shells came too near. 
 
 Tliere were very few patients now in the wards, and those who were left 
 begged us to go out and get some information for them. We did not think 
 the firing sufficiently close to render the streets dangerous, and we went to 
 the Hotel d'Orleans, to know if the English attache were there, and what he 
 covild tell us. He had breakfasted there, and ridden out to the General's 
 head-quarters. These said head-quarters, we foimd, were considerably 
 nearer Orleans than they had been. All to us looked like a retreat, but we 
 were assured it was not so. How very empty the streets lcx)ked! Most of the 
 shops were shut; not a soldier to be seen; all were at the front. There was a 
 general air of doubt and depression abroad which contradicted the ajfiche at 
 the Mairie, that by news received from the general in command all went 
 well, and the final result of the struggle could not be doubtful. It was well 
 known too, by this time, that the victorious sortie from Paris was but an 
 invention of some imaginative brain, and one poor, shivering citizen, looking 
 at the placard still affixed to the wall, and signed by 'Pereira, Prefet du 
 Loiret,' said, with a bitter smile, 'See how tliey deceive us! Not M. Pereira, he 
 is too good a man, but ce Monsieur Gambetta-la!' 
 
 It was getting dark as we entered the Cathedral. The seven lamps 
 were burning before the Chapel of the Sacrament in the right transept, and 
 many lighted tapers before the Shrine of the Virgin on the left, placed 
 there by sad and loving hearts, whose dear ones were where those terrible 
 gtms were firing. Suddenly, yet sharply, their echo rang through the 
 vaulted Cathedral, and poor, frightened women and children; cowering 
 by some great pillar, would start and look around them, as if expecting to 
 see some shell fall crashing through, the roof. But the Bishop still knelt 
 there before the High Altar, as if he had never stirred from his position 
 since the day before, still bowed and motionless, with the faint light 
 shining on his grey head, and his vicars kneeling behind him. Only the 
 Sunday before, amidst sunlight and music and crowds of worshippers, he 
 had blessed the Army of the Loire in his Saviour's name; and now, in the 
 closing twilight, in the lonely, deserted Cathedral, with that ominous 
 sound echoing through it, instead of the rich tones of the organ, he knelt 
 in a wordless agony of prayer for the salvation of the land he loved, the 
 fair city he ruled over, as God's minister, and the souls of the dying, even 
 now gasping out their life on the dark, frozen battle-groimd beyond the 
 city walls. We lingered for some time, watching the scene, so touching in 
 its sadness.
 
 202 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 
 
 There was a small group of persons collected round a tall priest who 
 was standing by a side chapel, talking vehemently, half aloud, and we 
 crossed the nave to hear what it was. It seemed he was the Cure of 
 Chevilly. He had come to Orleans with the sacramental plate and other 
 church valuables, and he told us how his little house was turned into a 
 fortified place, the walls pierced for musketry, and a battery of nineteen 
 siege-pieces planted in his garden. 'You will observe, Mesdames,' he 
 continued, 'these very circumstances expose my poor house and garden to 
 a return fire.' 1 asked where the Germans were. 'Not in Chevilly when I 
 left it,' he replied; 'but I suspect they are in it now.' 'The sound of the 
 firing is nearer,' I said; 'but can they ever take Orleans, with all those 
 heavy guns and trenches lined with riflemen around it?' 'Ma chere 
 Dame,' answered tlie good Cure, 'the cannon in my garden are the largest 
 imagination can conceive; if they pass those they'll pass anything. Aiid 
 listen; even as I speak, you hear how near the firing comes. I have no 
 doubt they have taken Chevilly, and you will have them here very soon.' 
 
 Two or three women wept and wrung their hands at hearing this, and 
 we thought it best to go home directly. If the Germans were coming on so 
 fast the streets might be dangerous soon. As we crossed the bridge we 
 stopped to speak to some men who were gathered there, watching and 
 listening. They pointed out the smoke rising up in the distance, and told 
 us the firing was coming very close. Some hundred yards down the line, 
 on our left hand, another bridge traversed the railroad by the Faubourg 
 Bourgogne, and over this, to our astonishment, we saw strong batteries of 
 artillery passing into the town, coming back from the front, for the battle 
 was on the three sides of Orleans (the Paris side of the Loire), and 
 enclosed the city like a semicircle. We all walked by the bank to the other 
 bridge, and one of the men, an employe of the Octroi, or local custom 
 duties office, asked an officer who was riding by the side of a gun how all 
 went on. I thought his answer very unsatisfactory, though they did not. 
 He simply said, 'Very well on our side, but we must hope still better on 
 the other. We go to strengthen the front by Cercottes and Chevilly.' 
 
 It was certain by this that the result of the day's fighting was that the 
 Germans had come considerably nearer the city; and as for the wonderful 
 crushing of them which was to take place when D' Aurelle de Paladines had 
 drawn them under the fire of the 'marine pieces,' I did not believe in it. I 
 quite agreed with the Cure, if they could pass them at Chevilly they could 
 pass them at Orleans; and besides, if they were allowed to come so near as 
 under the fire of these batteries, and were pleased to try and silence them 
 by rehiming it, our position would be by no means a comfortable one. They
 
 LE DMANCHE NOIR. 203 
 
 woiild not be two miles from the city, and tlieir shot, and shell, would 
 easily reach, at all events, the outskirts in which we were situated. We 
 hoped and believed that the Red-Cross flag floating from the topmost roof 
 might prevent their firing on the house, and we were glad to see that our 
 Union-Jack was floating gaily and conspicuously from it, with tlie Tricolor 
 on one side aiid the Ambvilance flag on the otlier. Experience had taught us 
 to have more faith in its rainbow crosses* thcin in all the Geneva flags that 
 were waving in the city, for there was a perfect outbreak of them. We were 
 thus guarded as far as possible from long shots, and to provide against any 
 sudden invasion of the Convents during a storming of the town in the 
 night, when the English flag might not be so visible, was our next care. 
 
 Now, we had a Bavarian Infirmier named Matthias, the best-natured, 
 best-tempered fellow in the world. He had been gardener in a Bavarian 
 convent, and considered that he had been especially blessed and protected 
 by Providence in having been slightly wounded and sent to a Convent, 
 where he had been made Infirmier to the German wounded, and where 
 'Bismarck caput' could not send him to rejoin his regiment and tramp 
 through mud and snow, 'with no supper,' as he used emphatically to add, 
 to carry a heavy rifle and fire it off at nobody in particular, with the 
 certainty of being shot by his general's orders if he did not fight, and the 
 chance of being shot by the French if he did. Matthias was of a pacific 
 disposition, with a perpetual grin on his broad, flat face. He detested his 
 uriiform, and would wear any disgraceful old jacket rather than put it on. 
 I now explained to him he must dress in full uniform, helmet and all, and 
 sit in the porter's lodge, in case the city was taken, to explain to any 
 German marauders it was a Hospital, and that there were German 
 wounded there; but Matthias refused, weeping bitterly. He should be 
 taken by the Germans; he should be sent back to his regiment. No, never; 
 he would not put on his uniform clothes, he would hide in the 'lingerie.' 
 'The Fraulein (myself) could sit in the lodge, with the big English flag; that 
 would be gut' (good). And so Master Matthias walked off, installed 
 himself in the French Hall, and announced his intention of forgetting how 
 to speak German if his countrymen came; and there he remained, helping 
 the wounded most actively, and administering consolation and soup 
 together, by shaking his head and saying in compassionate tones, 'Ah, 
 Bismarck caput!' as much as to say, 'My poor friend, it is all his fault!' 
 
 At nightfall the cannonade ceased. Many wounded came in; but they 
 had little to tell, except that they had been fighting in retreat, and they 
 
 * An odd description of the British red, white and blue flag!
 
 204 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 
 
 believed the Prussians were in Chevilly. From the upper windows we 
 saw, in the far distance, the red glare in the sky, that told its sad tale of 
 burning homesteads and ruined farms; but all was silence now, except the 
 roll of the carts on the frozen road bringing in their sad load of pain and 
 suffering. Lights were still gleaming from the windows of the Convent 
 Chapel, where the evening prayer was going on, and the wounded 
 listened to the soft sounds of the singing with a quiet air of repose. It 
 seemed to soothe their over-excited nerves and lull their pains. It was 
 such a contrast, those warm, well lighted halls, those white-sheeted 
 comfortable beds, the good warm soup, the glass of cooling wine and 
 water, the kind attendants round them, forestalling every wish and 
 changing the position of the pillows under their weary heads, to the scene 
 of a few hours before, the confusion of the battle, the smoke, the noise, 
 then the sudden, sharp pang, the half-muddy half-frozen earth for a bed, 
 and the fear of being trampled down in some sudden charge of friend or 
 foe, or being left there through the long winter night, to be frozen to 
 death, as so many were whose wounds were comparatively trifling. 
 Nothing disturbed the quiet of the night, and Sunday morning came in 
 again bright and simny, and seeming to inspire hope even in the half- 
 despairing hearts of the Orleanais. 
 
 From early morning wounded had been brought in, and our house 
 was again quite full. They all told us that the Army of the Loire was 
 concentrated roimd Orleans, and the battle this day would be fought in 
 the last trenches. Pleasant news this for us, considering that the last 
 trenches were about 400 yards from us, and the great marine battery about 
 900. At ten we went to the Cathedral. High Mass was being celebrated, 
 but the congregation was a very scanty one. Up to this time there had 
 been no firing, but just as the Consecration was taking place came a report 
 like a sharp clap of thunder. Everyone started and looked around. Louise 
 said it was the banging of the great west door, so distinct and close by was 
 the sound. It came again and again, and I could not understand why the 
 sacristan should be perpetually opening and shutting the door;- but in one 
 of the pauses came a long, low rattle — the firing of a mitrailleuse. The 
 door fiction was instantly dispelled; we knew the enemy were close by, 
 and the great siege-pieces had opened fire. Many rose and left the 
 Cathedral. We stayed to the end of the service, and all through prayer and 
 psalm came that terrible accompaniment, that voice of war and terror. 
 How strangely it mingled with the chanting of the 'Gloria in Excelsis!' 
 Peace on earth! goodwill to men! What a mockery Christian practice is 
 sometimes of Christian doctrine.
 
 LE DDvIANCHE NOIR. 205 
 
 As we came out of the Cathedral and descended the broad steps 
 leading to the Place Ste. Croix, we saw that the city was in confusion and 
 dismay. We passed the Mairie. There was no fresh ajfiche with its deceitful 
 tale of victory; a picquet of dragoons were lounging in the courtyard, but 
 what news they had brought from the front was not made public. We 
 went across the broad boulevard, and foimd a battalion of Zouaves 
 encamped upon it. They had lighted fires, and were boiling soup. They 
 had come in from Beaune-le-Rolande, and were, after breakfast, to go on 
 to St.-Jean-le-Braye, a faubourg close by Orleans. 
 
 Having heard that the station was still full of sick and wounded, 
 evacuated from the Hospitals and Ambulances, and for whom there had 
 not been room enough in the train, we went there to see if any of our men 
 were left, and if they had had anything for breakfast. We foimd at least a 
 couple of thousand men, in the waiting-rooms, on the platform, 
 everywhere where they could find standing room. One train had just 
 gone off. Another was being formed, and into this the men rushed, 
 leaving the badly wounded to be assisted into first-class carriages. An 
 officer of high rank was carried past us by two soldiers, and placed in a 
 compartment. I said to Louise as I saw it, 'This is a retreat; if there were 
 an hour to spare, the colonel would not be hurried off in that condition.' 
 Besides, we saw fresh wounded, who under other circvimstances would at 
 least have been sent into Ambulance for twenty-four hours, to have their 
 wounds looked to. They had been hastily attended to on the field, but 
 needed much more careful bandaging to enable them to travel in comfort. 
 Our men were all gone;* went at four in the morning, an officer of the 
 staff told us; and all, as we saw, had a good basin of soup and a large slice 
 of bread. 
 
 Amongst those still remaining were two decidedly full of small-pox. 
 It is too probable that by such means the disease was spread, as was the 
 case in Orleans and around it. A little common precaution would have 
 obviated this. The men should have been sent back to the Hotel-Dieu, the 
 civil Hospital, which was prepared for such cases. When we left the 
 station we went to the Hotel d'Orleans. Madame Pillion, the kind 
 landlady, told us Colonel Reilly had come in from the front, had his 
 breakfast, ordered his carriage to be ready at a moment's notice, and had 
 ridden out again to St.-Jean-le-Braye. We all agreed that General d'Aurelle 
 de Paladines having fixed his head-quarters so close to Orleans looked 
 very much as if he had been forced back upon his inner line of defence. 
 
 300 of them — 5t/Af
 
 206 LE DIMANCHE NOIR. 
 
 Of course we were all ignorant of what was passing outside, of the 
 General's telegram to Gambetta at Tours to say he must evacuate Orleans, 
 and his later decision to defend it; but what we did see from the hotel 
 windows was that the street was a block of artillery and provision 
 waggons, carts with stores of all kinds, baggage, ammunition and guns, 
 retreating down the street, to cross the bridge at the end which spanned 
 the Loire. Several bystanders remarked on this as looking as if the army 
 was in retreat, and sending on its heavy baggage to save it from falliiig 
 into the hands of the enemy; but an officer standing there denied it. He 
 said all was going on well, but that the General considered, as the battle 
 was to be fought so close to the town, and as the heavy baggage is always 
 in the rear, it would be better not to encumber the streets with it, but to 
 send it across the river. We quite agreed in the indignant question of one 
 lady, why the General could not have fought the Prussians a few miles off, 
 instead of exposing the town to a chance of bombardment? It did seem 
 very bad management, certainly. 
 
 The crowd in the streets increased every minute, the noise of the 
 cannonade was louder and louder, and we could hear the rattle of 
 musketry. We went home; fresh wounded men were being brought in, 
 dressed, and sent off every minute. At last the halls were again cleared of 
 all but the very seriously wounded, and we sat down to lunch with what 
 appetite we could, resolved that, at all events, God helping us, we would 
 try in this hour of danger to be a help and support to those around us, and 
 to prove that English courage was not a mere fable of romance.
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 207 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 It was a very long Sunday afternoon, that 4th of December; the rainy 
 Sundays of our childhood were not so long, nor yet broken by incidents so 
 sad. The sound of firing was all around us now, and three or four times 
 the great doors of the convent were opened to admit wounded men shot 
 down close by the house. To go out in the garden would not have been 
 wise, for the rifle-balls were whizzing all round. So we waited, the bright 
 sunshine streaming into our room, and, except for the noise, everything 
 seeming still and quiet. Louise wrote letters in spite of my assurances that 
 the post did not go; and I arranged my few clothes in the drawers. Why I 
 do not know, except that it was difficult to fix the mind on any one given 
 subject. 
 
 About 3 P.M. there was a violent ringing at the door-bell, and one of 
 the chaplains rushed in. Orders had been received to take the Host from 
 all the Altars and conceal it; and this we thought looked very bad. As we 
 were talking to the Sister at the gate, a battalion of Gardes Mobiles came 
 by at the double. A sergeant lingered, and asked for a glass of water. He 
 told us they were going into the trenches; the Prussians were close by; the 
 town would be defended to the last. Probably it would be bombarded. 
 This intelligence spread some dismay. There were thirty children in the 
 house — the remnant of the Sisters' school. It would be well to put them in 
 safety; and the good Mother Superior ordered that all the Sisters and 
 children should assemble in the underground refectory, except those in 
 attendance on the wounded. 
 
 Louise and myself mounted up to a dormitory on the fourth floor, and 
 from thence watched the battle. On our right and also facing us were the 
 trenches lined with men, firing over the low earth-bank. We could not 
 distinguish the Prussians, there was too much smoke, and they were 
 apparently in the low wood which bounded our view to the NE. On the 
 SE., houses and shrubberies concealed both defence and attack. On the N. 
 and NW. we could perceive the marine batteries firing rapidly, their fire 
 being replied to by the Prussian guns, which we could not, of course, see. 
 The hottest of the battle was close to us, though, in the Faubourg Banniere. 
 Had it not been for the stern reality of the whole scene, and the inevitable
 
 208 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 death and suffering that was being worked out, it would have been a 
 beautiful sight to watch the flight of the shells as they soared in a graceful 
 curve through the clear blue sky above, leaving rings of white smoke in 
 the air.* 
 
 These rings, when darkness came on, were more beautiful still, for 
 they then showed themselves in rings of fire. Sometimes the shell burst in 
 the air, scattering its pieces about, sometimes plunged into the soft 
 ground, throwing up a shower of brown earth and green turi, and 
 sometimes crashed down amidst buildings; and then, when the smoke 
 and dust cleared off, great gaps were to be seen, where it had torn its 
 passage through roof and rafter. A house just opposite us, about 500 yards 
 away in tlie fields, was almost enhrely destroyed. One shot fell in our 
 garden, close to the 'lingerie,' but did no damage. Smoke soon veiled the 
 whole scene below, but it hung low, and up above it was the deep blue 
 sky. We had got used to the roar of cannon and rattle of musketry, and 
 could calmly watch the battle. No wounded were removed from the field 
 till towards dusk, and then they principally came in by the Faubourg 
 Bourgogne, and into the other house. The possibility of our being 
 wounded, or the house itself struck, did not enter our minds. It was more 
 than possible, it was probable; for, as an officer of the English army, who 
 came after the peace to see the defences, remarked to us, we were in a 
 most exposed position. The supper in the halls and our dinner were 
 served, as usual, about half-past six. As few as possible of the Sisters 
 remained above ground — it was unnecessary, and they had the children 
 to care for. But all who had duties to perform went about them quietly 
 and regularly. 
 
 At about seven the cannonade ceased; several wounded were brought 
 in, and spoke positively of the bombardment of the city, which would 
 commence in a few hours. The third trenches were not taken, nor the 
 batteries, and would be defended to the last. They were utterly ignorant 
 that the defence was prolonged into the night only to cover the retreat of 
 the main body of the army across the Loire. Darkness had now closed in, 
 and for a little while there was quiet. About 9 P.M. we were startled by 
 renewed firing quite close to us. It was very violent, but ceased in an 
 hour; and we heard next day that it was caused by the storming of the 
 
 Smoke from the burning gunpowder charge is forced through a cannon's circular muzzle. The 
 air in contact with the edges of the muzzle is held back by friction and therefore moves more 
 slowly than the air in the middle. This sets up a rotation from the centre to the edge, so that the 
 smoke is formed into a whirling ring as it shoots out of the gun. The higher speed of movement in 
 the centre keeps it at a lower pressure than the outside, and this makes the smoke ring last
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 209 
 
 railroad-Station, which, across the fields, was very near to us, though we 
 had to drive to it through the city, and also that tlien the marine battery 
 we had seen firing had been captured. 
 
 The surrender of Orleans by General Martin de Pallieres is well 
 known. He capitulated after D'Aurelle de Paladines and the greater part 
 of the Army of the Loire, with all their baggage, ammunition, and stores, 
 had safely crossed the Loire.* Tliey did not blow up the bridges behind 
 them, which were ready mined. Had they done so, the pursuit would 
 have been checked for many days, as a hard frost had set in, and ice was 
 coming down the Loire in huge blocks. To cross by pontoon bridges 
 would have been difficult and dangerous, and much reproach was 
 afterwards bestowed by the French on such bungling management. It 
 strengthened, too, the idea of treachery, for, to this day, there is no soldier 
 of that defeated army, no citizen of Orleans, who would not tell you tlie 
 town might have been defended much better, held much longer, and 
 even, that had it been honestly done by, it was nearly impregnable, owing 
 to the forest, and the river, and the trenches. 
 
 When the noise of the firing had died away we went to sleep; we were 
 very tired, and the Ambulance was about half empty. By military order 
 we had sent out every man who could crawl, arid though the last train 
 had left Orleans at 3 P.M., several walked across the railway bridge and 
 gained the other shore of the river. 
 
 It was broad daylight before we woke. A good Sister brought us, in 
 our coffee, and I asked, 'What news?' 'The very worst,' she answered; 
 'the Germans are in the city!' 'Impossible! 'we said. 'When did they come 
 in? Was there no more fighting after ten o'clock last night?' 'No,' she 
 said; 'the General surrendered, and the Prussians came in at midnight, the 
 postman told us. He begs to inform you there is no more post.' 'Well,' I 
 said, 'on the whole, I think I'll get up. We may have them here, and 
 Matthias is probably hidden among the piles of linen.' Dressing at such a 
 time is not a prolonged operation, and we soon descended to the hall 
 below. 
 
 Some freshly wounded men had just come in, one so shot in the hand 
 that amputation of the finger was necessary, and the surgeon was not 
 there. Hearing there was one at Ste. Marie, the other house, I said I would 
 go and fetch him, whilst Louise occupied herself in dressing the wounded; 
 but one of the Sisters begged me not, saying that the firing was still going 
 on and balls whizzing about the garden. This I could not believe, and 
 
 * Aurelle had given orders for Pallieres to form a rear guard, but nobody told him.
 
 210 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 started off. I passed through our garden and came out on the paddock, at 
 the end of which was the vineyard, and just beyond it the trenches. Surely 
 enough, balls were whizzing about and shots being fired in all directions. 
 However, I could not turn back. 
 
 I had just reached the low door opening in the wall which divided the 
 garden of Ste. Marie from the paddock, when something whistled close by 
 my head and struck the wall in froiit. I knew it was a bullet, and that it 
 had probably fallen at the foot of the. wall; but under the circumstances I 
 thought it best not to stop and look for it, so I went on my way, and met 
 the Mother Superior and the chaplain coming over to St. Marc's to see 
 how we all got on, and to tell us they were so overcrowded with woimded 
 they wished to transfer some into the Maison Mere. I told them to go 
 back; it was useless exposing themselves to these stray shots. We had 
 thirty vacant beds, and I would go and find the surgeon, send him over, 
 and follow myself with the wounded. If the Prussians met a posse of 
 French soldiery crossing the gardens (and they might at any moment 
 enter by the vineyard), there would be trouble unless someone attached to 
 the Ambulance were with them. 
 
 I found the surgeon very bvisy in his sad work. His comrades were 
 out in the trenches; but he himself, being attached to a Franc-tireur corps, 
 feared even his profession might not be respected, and had taken shelter 
 there. He asked me to escort him across the garden, and I proposed that, 
 as we had so many wounded, he should be attached to us as resident 
 surgeon. The President of the French International could appoint him. M. 
 Emanuel Dupoux and myself walked back to St. Marc's, and from that 
 day till he left, just before Christmas, he stayed with us, and proved 
 himself one of the most talented and skilful of surgeons, and a splendid 
 operator. Then I went back again and brought over the wounded, and 
 then went off into the city, to arrange about going out to the field to bring 
 in any who might be lying there. 
 
 The firing had ceased; it was the Prussians firing at French soldiers 
 attempting to escape by the faubourgs. All was safe now, but how 
 miserable! As I stepped out of the wicket door* I saw the helmets of the 
 Prussian sentinels on the bridge; the road was strewed with knapsacks, 
 arms, and accoutrements. I reached the Hotel d'Orleans. All was 
 confusion; the Grand Duke of Mecklenburgt was there, and aides-de- 
 
 A smaU door cut into the large main entrance door. 
 
 t Friedrich Franz n, Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1823-1883). nephew of King Wilhehn I. 
 His forces repelled an attack by General Chanzy just before the capture of Orleans. There was also a 
 Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-StreUtz.
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 211 
 
 camp and orderlies rushing about. I took away several letters which were 
 waiting for me, and went down the street to the Place Martroi. 
 Everywhere arms, belts, and knapsacks were strewed about. The retreat 
 must have been very sudden at the last; indeed Madame Pillion, at the 
 Hotel, told me tliey had all gone to bed and to sleep when the Germans 
 thundered at the windows and doors and took entire possession of the 
 house. Every shop was shut, very few civiliaiis in the streets. They were 
 full of soldiery, infantry and cavalry, the horsemen, as usual, riding on the 
 side pavements, and store-waggons and guns were clattering down 
 towards the Loire. 
 
 The Cathedral was the saddest sight. Within it were congregated the 
 prisoners, 4,000 of them; the porches were full of them, pressing against 
 the iron gates and begging for bread and tobacco. I did not go in, but 
 hastened on to St. Euverte to find Pere Guerin, one of our chaplains, and 
 ask him where we had better go. He told me the fields immediately 
 around the town had been well searched, but we should do good service 
 by going out to Cercottes, and he would go with us. I found all at home 
 quiet; the wounded had been attended to. So we summoned the long 
 waggon from the other house, harnessed a horse to a large covered 
 carriage we had, and Pere Guerin, la Mere Marie-Therese de la Croix, 
 Louise, myself, and the surgeon started off for Cercottes. It was bitterly 
 cold, and the road blocked with Prussian columns. At last we got free of 
 them and came out on the battle ground. A light snow had come on, 
 every thing looked dreary; here and there were dark heaps, from which 
 we turned away our looks. It was too late to help them, and we must first 
 attend to the living. 
 
 We reached Cercottes at last, a small village of one street. There were 
 wounded in every house, and in the little sacristy of the church. The Cure 
 came up to us as we halted in the street, and begged us to take away three 
 very badly woimded who were lying on straw in the sacristy. We entered 
 the church. It was entirely desecrated, full of filth, and the High Altar had 
 black bottles and unexploded cartridges lying on and about it. The poor 
 Cure had nothing to give the wounded; the Germans had taken away all 
 his bread and two casks of red wine. He had found three sacks of rice in 
 the railway station, and these he had very wisely taken, and the grains of 
 rice, softened in a little tepid water, were all they had had for twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 We went into his little presbytery, and there, in an upper room, were 
 all his helpless parishioners, who had not Hed into the woods. An old 
 man of eighty lay gasping in the Cure's bed, little children were cowering
 
 212 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 around the spark of fire, and weeping women huddled in every corner, 
 and here they were all sheltered by their priest. We left bread and wine, as 
 much as we could spare, and a little money, to buy anything that could be 
 bought; we took away his wounded, and a German officer who came up 
 to see what the strangers were about ordered his men to assist us. We 
 showed him tltat we had two poor German wounded already in the 
 carriage; he seemed very pleased, and politely said he was sure they 
 would be well nursed. 
 
 We then searched some stables and out houses, selected all we could 
 take, and dressed the wounds of the others, giving them bread and wine 
 and promising to return next day. One poor lad, a Swiss, of the Foreign 
 Legion,* was mounted on the box of our carriage, the surgeon going in the 
 waggon with the wounded, and this boy was severely frost bitten in the 
 foot. Louise, seeing he had not been properly bandaged, stopped the 
 carriage, pulled out her materials, and dressed the foot then and there, 
 wrapping it well up. He did not forget it, for three months afterwards I 
 met on the stairs a bright, rosy lad, who smiled and greeted me. 'Who are 
 you, mon gargon?' I asked. 'S'il vous plait, madame, je sviis le garqon de 
 Mademoiselle Louise!'t was the answer. 'Mon enfant,' I said, utterly 
 astounded, 'what do you mean?' He then told me he was the boy whose 
 foot she had dressed at Cercottes. He had been put in the little house, 'La 
 Poste,' where it was very dark, and I did not recognise him in his new 
 clothes, for he had been made Infirmier and invested in a certain grey 
 jacket, one of a lot sent out from Putney, which was the pride of all their 
 hearts. 
 
 We had a long, slow drive back, not improved by the fact that Pierre, 
 who was ahead with the waggon, chose to turn down a side way, and 
 bumped us over the roughest road I ever drove upon. Pere Guerin, 
 putting his head out of the window, called to him and informed him he 
 was a man utterly devoid of common sense; he would ruin the carriage, 
 jolt us, and, what was far worse, the wounded. It was too late to tvirn 
 back, but we were very thankful to see the Convent lights before us. 
 
 Just before we left Cercottes we met two of the surgeons of the Anglo- 
 American Ambulance. Dr Tilghman came up to me and implored me for 
 God's sake to go on to Chevilly. There were eighty wounded in the Mairie 
 there, and they had had no bread since Saturday, no wine, and no soup, 
 only grains of rice. I told him we were alreadv laden with wounded, and 
 
 It is stUI recruiting: starting pay is £525 ($760) a month, 
 t "If you please, madam, I'm Miss Louise's lad."
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 213 
 
 had given away all our bread and wine, and asked him why he was on 
 foot, and why he had not brought out their waggons. He told me they 
 were afraid the Prussians would seize their horses. I replied I doubted 
 that; they had not in any way interfered with us. It would be too late to 
 return from Orleans to Chevilly that night, the gates would be shut; but 
 we would come out with a store next day. But next day we found how 
 very scarce bread was. We sent down to Pomme-du-Pin another of our 
 Ambulances, and found they by chance had had a double supply, and 
 could give us five or six huge loaves. 
 
 I went off to the Hotel d'Orleans, and Madame Pillion most kindly 
 seized upon my idea, and sent a waiter to find all the broken bread. The 
 Germans were very wasteful, and the breakfast table just deserted was 
 strewed with whole and half-loaves. All was collected and put into great 
 bags. I transferred it to the little cart, hid it up carefully under a railroad 
 rug, and went back delighted. Louise volunteered to remain with the 
 wounded, but tlie surgeon begged me to go, as I spoke German, and we 
 started at noon. We drove through Cercottes, and stopped at the stable 
 where we had left our wounded. One was dead, the others removed by 
 the Ambulance Lyonnaise, and we pressed on to Chevilly. Sad traces of 
 the fight were left on every side; the dead were yet unburied, but the 
 snow had covered them with a pure white shroud. Chevilly looked as sad 
 as Cercottes. All the inhabitants had fled. Every house was occupied by 
 wounded or soldiery. 
 
 We reached tlie Mairie; but I will not shock those who may read this 
 in quiet English homes by a description of what the state of that house 
 was! Even the kitchen was full of wounded. The Mayor's wife was 
 actively employed, aided by two Sisters of St.-Paul-de-Chartres, in 
 nursing them, and the village doctor was there. They had nothing to eat, 
 no medicines, no mattresses, no blankets; all fared alike, and I felt the 
 tears rushing to my eyes as I thought of the stores in St. Martin's Place, 
 and those dying here for want of them. And with these terrible conflicts 
 foreseen during the past three weeks, no agent had been sent out, no 
 depot established! When will Englishmen on a Committee learn to think 
 and act for themselves and those who have entrusted their gifts to them, 
 and not indolently confide all to the care of two or three men, however 
 active and energetic? When will they insist on a voice in the disposal of 
 their own money? And when will they claim a full and true account, with 
 vouchers and receipts for the expenditure of every shilling of it? 
 
 We did all we could, and fainting men raised themselves in their 
 blood-stained straw, and seemed to gain new life from a draught of wine.
 
 214 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 We had medicines and materials with us, and thus could make the 
 sufferers comfortable for the day. We prayed them to try and clean up the 
 place a little. We would relieve the overcrowded rooms by taking away 
 some woimded and send out more stores next day. As I was trying to 
 dress a wounded man in his great-coat, to come away, an English voice 
 struck my ear. It was a Sister of St. Paul; she came from my own county, 
 she had known my people, and we met as if we had been old friends. She 
 and two other Sisters had had the charge of the village school, but a bomb 
 had fallen in their house. The Prussians had taken possession of it, and 
 they had sought refuge at the Mairie. We heard the full details of their 
 misery later. 
 
 We reached home with our cargo of suffering, and found that, sundry 
 Prussians had presented themselves at our doors, claiming food, forage, 
 and quarters; but seeing the Union-Jack, to which Matthias called their 
 attentton, they had retreated. I was conscious that the Union-Jack bought 
 in Orleans which floated over the other house was a very dubious sort of 
 one, so I went over there, and found, to my horror, sixty soldiers 
 occupying the kitchen, and even tvirniiig the French wovmded out of their 
 beds. To cook for the Ambulance was impossible, and, summoning Mere 
 Therese, I started for the Prefecture, to find Priiice Frederick Charles. A 
 most gentlemanly aide-de-camp received us, and took my letter in to the 
 Prince, who was, fortvinately, at home. I had asked for a safe conduct — 
 that is, an order that no men should be quartered, no horses stabled, in 
 either of the houses, but that they should be kept as an Ambulance. 
 
 My friend returned in a few minutes with a mystic scrawl on a piece 
 of paper — the Prince could not give the order himself, but this paper 
 would procure it from the Prussian Commandant de Place. It was kindly 
 and courteously done, and in doing it the Prince rendered us a service for 
 which we never ceased to feel and express our gratitude. Armed with 
 this, we went off to tlie Commandant's bureau, and were lost in a 
 struggling crowd. Men and women with complaints of having too many 
 men quartered upon them, of ill-treatment by the soldiery, dragoons with 
 despatches, pushing everybody aside, swearing, shrieking, struggling all 
 around, made it anything but pleasant. Seeing an officer of rank pressing 
 through, I caught hold of his arm and showed him my paper. He 
 immediately caught hold of me, I caught hold of the Sister, and shouting 
 to the sentinel to open the door, he fairly fought us through, and we 
 emerged, breathless and disarranged, before tlie Prussian Colonel. 
 
 A very few words explained. A copy of the note we had was taken. I 
 was asked for how many houses I claimed protection. I replied two — the
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 215 
 
 Convent Faubourg St. Marc, the Convent Faubourg Bourgogne, and their 
 stables and outhouses. A paper was written out and given to me, and as I 
 was thanking the Colonel and leaving, he called me back, and said, 'Has 
 Madame, by chance, any vacant beds; if so, will she receive our 
 wounded?' Surely,' I replied, 'we have got vacant beds. May I place 
 twenty at the permanent disposal of your Excellency?' He shook hands 
 warmly, and tlie best possible understanding was arrived at. I told him of 
 the sixty men who had quartered themselves upon us, and he shouted to a 
 fierce-looking, though small, lieutenant to take a guard, go down directly, 
 and turn them out. Not to be outdone in courtesy, we begged they might 
 remain till seven o'clock, so as to have their supper before leaving; but he 
 would not hear of it, and once more thanking him I left. 
 
 As we crossed the Place Ste. -Croix we saw a stir amongst the poor 
 prisoners in the front of the Cathedral, and went in to see if there was any 
 help we could render to anyone. What a scene it was! The whole church 
 was full of a thick smoke, caused by the fires the soldiers, both guards and 
 prisoners, had lighted to keep themselves warm. The pavement was 
 inches deep in dirt; the smell was frightful. The chairs had been burned 
 up for firewood; many had been covered with red velvet. The Choir, 
 being surrounded by stalls, and having high iron gates in front, had fared 
 a little better. Still every Altar was desecrated. The sacristan wept as he 
 pointed out the ruin wrought in the side chapels, and one or two priests 
 lingered about the desolate Shrines in tears. Cartridges were occasionally 
 thrown into the fires, and exploded with a loud noise. We felt some 
 uncertainty as to where the bullets might go. We stood in sadness and 
 horror, listening to the fearful noises around. Amidst them came the tones 
 of the organ, which a German Landwehr* man was playing, harsh and 
 discordant. The keys were touched by no experienced or gentle hand; and 
 it seemed to shriek out a wild lament over the desecration of the holy 
 place. The lamps were extinguished. The House of God was deserted by 
 its Lord, and given up, as He was, to the hands of wicked men. It was 
 indeed the 'abomination of desolation in high places. 't 
 
 Presently came a loud, guttural shout. It summoned the prisoners to 
 muster and march. Many did not understand it, and the Prussians 
 soldiers strvick them with their muskets, pulled them about roughly, 
 kicked them into the ranks, and yelled fearfully at them. I remonstrated 
 with one of the guard, told him the day might come when, in the fortvme 
 
 * Member of a reserve unit comprised of older men. 
 
 t "...when ye shall see the abomination of desolation... let them that be in Judea flee to the 
 
 mountains." — Mark 13:14
 
 216 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 
 
 of war, he himself might be a prisoner, and begged him to be patient. He 
 instantly desisted, said it was only they were so stupid, and if I could tell 
 them what to do it would be good. I did explain to the poor fellows that 
 they must fall in and march out of the Cathedral, on their way to 
 Germany; and seeing I was translating for the guard, an officer came up 
 and, touching his helmet, asked me to come with him and explain that all 
 really too ill to march, lame, wounded, or footsore, were to come with me 
 to the gate of the Choir, and sit by the fires there till the rest were gone, 
 when they would be taken to Caserne St. -Charles. 
 
 This I did, and seeing several poor fellows wearily limping away, I 
 ran after them and sent them off to the haven of refuge by the Choir. The 
 good Sister kept watch there over our flock of some fifty or sixty men. 
 One lad of fifteen who was not very footsore, but looked very ill, we told 
 to take off his shoe and tie up his foot; he might pass muster, and be 
 spared a five miles' march in a bitter wind. We stood till all were gone, 
 explaining to the guards, who as they passed ordered them, not too 
 gently, to rise and go on, that the captain's orders were, these men were 
 for Ambulances. A little decision always settled the question, and seeing 
 the Sister's black robes and my grey dress with the silver shield and Red 
 Cross on the collar, they imagined we were going to take them with us, 
 desisted from attempting to take them away, and ended by going after the 
 others. The poor wretches acttially clung to us, imploring us to save them, 
 to have them left here for a while. The cold night march, the uncertain end 
 of the journey, any misery in Orleans, was preferable to that. We stayed 
 till they were taken away to the Caserne St.-Charles in carts, and walked 
 home sad and depressed. 
 
 We found Mere St. -Joseph at Faubourg Bourgogne in a state of tearful 
 delight and gratitude; all the Prussian soldiers in the house had-been 
 ordered away by a guard. But since they had left twenty fresh ones had 
 taken possession of a large school-room, next door, belonging to the 
 Convent, and were clamouring for supper. So there we went, and I found 
 my gentlemen breaking up the benches for firewood and very insolent. I 
 addressed a sous-off icier, showed him the safe-conduct, and begged them 
 all to get out. They refused, saying they were sick men for the Ambulance. 
 'In that case,' I said, 'pray stay; but you are aware that, being in 
 Ambulance, you must comply with Ambulance rules, or I must report you 
 for punishment.' 'True, meine Schwester; we are ready,' said they; 'only 
 we shall eat, shall we not?' 'Certainly,' I answered; 'but when we have 
 sick men here we close the shutters, as the windows look into the street.' 
 ('Close them, ma soeur,' addressing one who was with me.) 'Also, we
 
 UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE UNION-JACK. 217 
 
 take their boots and coats, and tliey must directly go to bed.' ('Infirmier, 
 take these good gentlemen's boots.') 'You shall have some soup at eight 
 o'clock; but I see you are all fatigued and feverish, and I shall admiruster a 
 strong dose of cooling medicine all round. I shall go and seek it and 
 return in ten minutes,' and out I walked. 
 
 As I expected, I heard a burst of German oaths — for they svv^ear 
 fearfully — an immense shuffling succeeded, and in five minutes out 
 trooped my twenty patients, and walked off to seek better quarters than in 
 V Ambulance Anglaise. A roar of lavxghter from all followed their exit, in 
 which two or three newly arrived and really sick Germans joined heartily; 
 and so closed the day in peace and security which had opened so 
 anxiously arid stormily, and by ten o'clock friend and foe, wounded and 
 sick, aged men, paralysed women, poor orphans, and wearied sisters, 600 
 souls in all, were resting safely under the shadow of the Union-Jack.
 
 218 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A LOST BATTLEFIELD. 
 
 Before driving to Chevilly, as we had promised, on the morrow, it 
 was necessary to go into the city to buy more bread. The town looked 
 very sad. The shops were still closed; a Prussian order had been issued 
 commanding them to be opened, on pain of fine and imprisonment, and 
 this had been complied with by keeping up the shutters of the windows 
 and just taking down those of the doors. Many had been much pillaged, 
 and naturally were afraid to display their goods. On every door in the 
 place were white chalk-marks, to efface which was a heavy crime, and 
 these showed how many men, and of what regiment, were to be quartered 
 there; but in too many instances the houses had been entered by bands of 
 soldiers forty or fifty in number, whom nothing could dispossess, and as 
 these unwelcome visitors claimed not only lodging and fire, but the best 
 of food and wine, in unlimited quantity, it may be imagined what utter 
 ruin it was to the poor citizens. A refusal was met by the blow of a 
 musket, or the miserable proprietor being turned into the streets. 
 
 One old man of eighty was taken out of his bed, to make room for a 
 German corporal, and placed on some straw in the open court-yard, the 
 snow falling fast. He was dead before morning broke — gone to bear 
 witness against his cruel foes before the Judgment Throne. A poor artisan 
 pleaded that he had been two months out of work, and had no means of 
 procuring bread even for his own children. 'We must have meat and 
 wine,' was the answer. 'If you have no money, you must go in debt for 
 them.' 'No one will give me credit,' said the workman; 'I could never 
 pay.' 'Show us the shop,' answered the sergeant, 'we'll settle that;' and 
 the unfortunate shopkeeper named had to supply the workman on credit 
 with articles he never would have bought for himself. But what could be 
 done with a dozen Prussians in the shop, filling their pockets with 
 everything that struck their fancy — a bottle of wine in one hand and a 
 revolver in the other!
 
 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 219 
 
 Lord Palmerston,* in his "Journal of a Tour to France in 1815,' remarks 
 on the Prussian system of plunder as then in force as contrasted with the 
 English rules for requisitions. The Prussians then, as now, made 
 requisitions by order of their officers for the support of their troops whilst 
 the English stated their wants to a commissary, 'who applied,' says Lord 
 Palmerston, 'to the agents of the French Government for the articles 
 required, and the supply being made through channels known to the 
 people, and by authorities recognised by them, the burden was not felt to 
 be so oppressive as if the exaction had been made by the immediate order 
 of an enemy, and at the caprice of individual officers. The consequence 
 was, that, though both Prussians and ourselves lived equally at the 
 expense of the country, the first are detested and the latter liked. 
 
 'On the march to Paris Blticher's army crossed the line Wellington 
 meant to take, they having got before him while he halted at Cambray. He 
 advanced through a line of country which the Prussians had been actually 
 starved out of, and yet found no difficulty in obtaining supplies. The 
 inhabitants who had deserted their villages at the approach of the 
 Prussians retvirned the moment our troops came up, and confidence being 
 restored, provisions followed, of course.' 
 
 He says also, page 10, 'Wherever we passed we heard complaints of 
 the Prussians, who seem to have behaved roughly; at the same time, when 
 asked for details, with the exception of some particular cases of individual 
 excess, they appeared to have chiefly confined themselves to heavy 
 contributions.' They did not do this at Orleans, and they also added 
 heavy money contributions. Seeing in what a state of terror arid danger all 
 the people were, we went to the Eveche, intending to ask the Bishop to 
 entrust any valuables to us. We entered the wide-open gates. The old 
 porter and his wife were weeping. In spite of there being 100 wounded in 
 the house — 50 French and 50 German — the General of a division had 
 taken possession of it, it was turned into quarters, and resembled a 
 barrack. Tliere was no one to announce us. We crossed the court-yard, 
 and entered the hall. It was full of soldiers. Turning off, we went through 
 the little private chapel, where all was dark and quiet, one solitary lamp 
 still burning before the Altar, up a back staircase, and so through to the 
 
 * Henry John Temple, Viscount Palmerston, (1806-65). Three years after he paid £1,500 to 
 became an MP at the age of 22, he was offered the post of Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
 Palmerston thought he was too young for this high office and instead accepted the post of 
 Secretary at War, which he held for 20 years. In 1855 Lord Palmerston became Prime Minister. 
 He had difficulty working with Queen Victoria. She disliked him. partly because, while a guest at 
 Windsor Castle, he had entered a bedroom and tried to seduce one of her ladies in waiting.
 
 220 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 first floor, where were the Bishop's rooms. Chaplains, servants, all were 
 gone; we came into the ante-room of the Bishop's library, where he 
 usually received visitors, and here we met a Grand Vicar in tears, a little 
 carpet bag in his hand. His bedroom had been taken possession of by a 
 German lieutenant, his two watches and some linen shirts stolen, and his 
 purse with some money in it. He was going to seek a roof to cover him in 
 the town. 
 
 Shocked and disgusted, we stood still, consulting what to do — how to 
 announce ourselves to the Bishop, indeed where to find him — when we 
 heard a voice speaking loudly and harshly in the next room. We listened; 
 it was certainly a Prussian, but the tones were not those to use in the 
 presence of a man so high in rank, of such world-wide reputation, as 
 Monseigneur Dupanloup. Tlie door suddenly opened, and a tall, 
 beardless boy in uniform came out, followed by the Bishop, in his violet 
 soutane, the very picture of an aged and dignified priest. He was 
 remonstrating with the officer that this room was his own library. He 
 could not have officers sleeping there. He had been kept awake till three 
 in the morning by the shouting and singing going on in the room down 
 below him, and to have it here was impossible. But the boy answered 
 sharply, in very bad French, 'But you must; no nonsense with us; do you 
 hear that? Three beds to be made up in this room by five o'clock this 
 evening, or you will be the worse for it.' 'Mais Monsieur,' said the poor 
 Bishop, mildly- 'Do you hear me?' broke in the officer, raising his clenched 
 fist as he spoke. 'Tliree beds here to-night; you know what you have to 
 do; mind that it is done. Do you hear?' The poor Bishop leaned against 
 the door, saying in a faint voice, 'Monsieur, je ne peux plus' (Sir, I can 
 bear no more), and, catching hold of the arm of a chaplain, tottered back 
 into his room. 
 
 If ever I longed to be a man and a soldier, just for five minutes, it was 
 then; but I was only a woman, and I looked the Prussian full in the face as 
 he passed me, saying in German, 'You brute, they shall know of this in 
 England.' He looked very foolish and said, 'I was ordered by the 
 General.' 'You have done well,' I answered. 'I am happy to see how you 
 Germans honour an old man and a priest.' He walked out cursing and 
 muttering, and, not liking to intrude on such sorrow as the Bishop's, we 
 left. 
 
 After about an hour's rest we started with the good Pere Guerin for 
 Cercottes and Chevilly. Just before reaching Cercottes we overtook the 
 Mayor of Chevilly, and gave over to him the stores we had brought, 
 which saved us a four miles further journey on a bitter day. A light snow
 
 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 221 
 
 was falling and the frost was intense. As we came to the entrance of the 
 village we saw in the corner of a field that bordered the road a deep trench, 
 and round it forty or fifty dead bodies, all French. We did not halt, but 
 drove on to the Presbytery, and the Cure came out to greet us. He begged 
 us to go to a farmhouse about a mile off across the fields; where three 
 officers were lying seriously wounded, who had begged to be transported 
 into Orleans. Pere Guerin suggested that the Cure should show us tlie way, 
 and I requested him to get itito the carriage. Poor fellow, he looked at his 
 torn soutane and his muddy sabots and apologised; he would go on the 
 box, he was not in a state to drive with a lady. I only felt he was worth a 
 dozen dandy grey-gloved curates, arid 1 got out, saying, 'If he would not 
 get in, I would not.' So with many words of gratitude for a simple courtesy 
 he momited, and we started. He told us he had been helping to dig the 
 trench we had seen. He had buried forty Germans that morning at the 
 other end of the village. All the dead he could find left unburied had been 
 collected, and this afternoon he hoped to inter the French. 
 
 At this juncture the road got so bad that I preferred to walk, and a very 
 short cut across the fields brought us to the courtyard gate of the old farm. 
 Here we met a surgeon who introduced himself as one of the Fifth 
 Ambulance. We explained our errand, and he regretted we had not arrived 
 the day before. They had been obliged to amputate in all the cases; and, 
 therefore, removal for fourteen or fifteen days would be impossible; but he 
 thanked us most sincerely for the offer to receive the patients at the end of 
 that time, and asked us for some wine for them. 
 
 We entered the farm; it was very sad and dreary. In one room lay a 
 young officer fresh from the amputation-table. He smiled and seemed glad 
 to see us. Just then his comrade was brought in, hardly recovered from the 
 effect of the chloroform, and placed on a rude mattress beside him, and the 
 third was still under the surgeon's knife. And here the sufferers must 
 remain for a fortnight with the scantiest of comfort; yet the farmer's family 
 and a bright, intelligent Infirmier left by the Ambulance were there, and 
 would doubtless, under the surgeon's direction, prove valuable nurses. 
 
 We left what wine we could spare, then visited another farm, where 
 also were amputated men, and finally returned to the Presbytery. Here the 
 Cure got out, and seeing a woman leaiiing against the wall asked if she had 
 cleaned out the church. In a shrill scream she instantly demanded, 'Did M. 
 le Cure wish to sacrifice her to those fiendish Prussians? They had dirtied 
 the church; doubtless it pleased them best dirty. Should she interfere? 
 Names of all the saints, no; she was going back to the forest till the dogs of 
 Germans were gone.' And off she walked. The Cure called after her in
 
 222 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 vain, and addressed an indignant protest to two old women and a child, 
 declarii-ig Mass should be celebrated next morning, coUte que coUte* and 
 when he came back from burying the French he would clean the church 
 himself. Probably he did; he had energy enough for anything. 
 
 I drove on alone to where the path rejoined the high road, my two 
 compaiiions crossiiig a field to see if a white heap under a tree was a dead 
 man or not. Down by the trench round which lay the bodies I was struck by 
 the appearance of one, he looked so calm and quiet, so little hurt; his arm 
 was in splints of English make. He had died from cold and exposure, not 
 the effect of his wound. Another Mobile by his side had his trousers cut up 
 and his leg bandaged; he, too, was slightly wounded. On the bandage was 
 a mark I recognised; it was one of the splendid supply sent from Putney, 
 some of which we had given for the use of surgeons and wounded in 
 Caserne d'Etapes. One man had his head clean shot off, and close by lay a 
 captain of the Foreign Legion, fearfully wounded.. 
 
 But I will not shock our readers by details. They had been dead several 
 days, but owing to the severe frost showed no signs of decomposition; and 
 there they lay, ranged rovmd the open grave, victims of a cruel war 
 prolonged by a King's ambition, when he might have had a peace more 
 honourable to him in the eyes of Europe than all the victories won after 
 Sedan; and looking on these pale, blood-stained corpses I thought of a day 
 when they will stand before the Great White Throne, and their death on this 
 needless battle-field will call for vengeance on the heads of Emperors and 
 Statesmen, who looked on them, breathing, living men, as mere machines 
 to minister to their glory or their ambition. What will be the answer to the 
 question asked then, 'Where is thy brother?'! Could that scene have been 
 transferred to canvas, what a lesson it would have taught! The long grey 
 road, the poplar stumps, the fields powdered with a light snow, the black 
 forest in the background, the branches tossing in the bleak north wind, the 
 leaden sky above, the corpses ranged around the grave, with the fresh 
 upturned mound of earth beside it, and the three solitary figures standing 
 by it, wondering where were the homes awaiting those pale forms and 
 where were the women who loved them. Would they ever know of tliis 
 grave? 
 
 The Cure stood bare-headed and silent by the trench while Pere Guerin, 
 stooping over the officer's body tried if by chance he recognised the face. In 
 vain. Every care had been taken to collect the papers found upon the 
 
 * No matter what. 
 
 t "And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother?" — Genesis 4:9
 
 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 223 
 
 bodies; but his had been too well plundered. Probably his pocket-book had 
 contained notes, and all had been taken together. He was to be buried on 
 the top of the others, so that if by chance at any time search were made by 
 his friends the body might be easily identified. There they lay in the closing 
 twilight, and no one to bury them. Tlie men tlie Cure expected failed him, 
 and there was no one to lower the bodies irito the tomb. In despair he 
 appealed to the Prussian guard, and two or three stolid, good-natured 
 soldiers offered to assist; and so we left them to their sad task, and drove on 
 to another lonely house where we were told a solitary wounded man 
 awaited help. We found him, a young Zouave, most kindly tended by the 
 farmer and his wife. He, was severely wounded in the leg by a ball which 
 had struck him on the Saturday morning. He had crawled into the forest, 
 remained there till dusk, and then made his way to this farm, which was 
 just on the outskirts. He was very lonely, and gladly accepted the offer of 
 going into our Ambulance, and with this patient we started for Orleans, 
 and in due time reached the Convent. 
 
 During all these days we had heard heavy firing on the other side of the 
 Loire, and were aware that fighting was going on round Beaugency, where 
 General Chanzy was said to be defending the way to Tours and Le Mans. 
 The history of those batties is told in the newspapers of the 16th and 17th 
 December. 
 
 We heard the booming of the gims, but saw nothing of the batties 
 beyond the usual sad result — hundreds of waggons full of wounded and a 
 few squads of prisoners. Every bed we had was occupied. M. Emanuel 
 Dupoux, our surgeon, had his hands full, the surgeons of tiie Puy-de-D6me 
 Ambulance were in Ste. Marie, and those of the Lyonnaise at Pomme du- 
 Pin. A Spanish noble volunteered to be our secretary, and a Savoyard 
 gentleman our chief Infirmier. We had no paid service, yet all went on 
 splendidly. 
 
 Now and then Prussian soldiers presented tiiemselves and claimed 
 quarters, but soon withdrew. On one occasion Louise and myself were 
 summoned into the stable-yard by ti^e cry, 'Here are the Prussians!' and 
 arriving there found half-a-dozen dragoons ti-ying to hirn out our two poor 
 old white ponies and insinuate tiieir big horses into the little stable. I sent a 
 Sister flying for the safe-conduct, which was kept at Ste. Marie, as most 
 exposed to danger, being on the high road from Gien, and told my friends 
 ti^ey could not come in tiiere. The sergeaiit, a boy of eighteen or twenty, 
 persisted tiiat he would. The weatiier was bitter, liis horses must have 
 shelter. I went into the stable, seized ihe bridles of our two ponies, who had 
 only just been taken out of harness, and said they were for the service of tiie
 
 224 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 Ambulance, and should not be turned into the cold. The sergeant grew 
 furious, and insisted on going into the gardener's house, a small one-storey 
 cottage, to see if he could not screw his own special great beast in there. I 
 told him tliat that was the house for small-pox cases; he was welcome to 
 sleep there himself, if he liked. He replied, 'He would not do that, he would 
 not be murdered; but liis horse should sleep there.' I grew tired of all this 
 nonsense and said, 'To finish this affair, get out, horse and all.' On this he 
 drew a remarkably long sword and brandished it ferociously about me. 
 Louise stood by, watching the scene with much amusement, arid sundry 
 Sisters clung round her, declaring I should be killed; but she knew better, 
 and coolly said, 'Oh dear no; Mademoiselle is quite competent to take care 
 of herself.' I felt very indignant, and seizing the boy's wrist I twisted his 
 sword out of his hand with a jerk. It was quite new and very bright, and I 
 gave it back, congratulating him on the opportunity he had of trying it for 
 the first time on a woman. His companions began to laugh at him, and just 
 then the Sister arrived breathless with the safe conduct. 'Now,' I said to the 
 sergeant, 'you see I might punish you very severely for this. You saw the 
 Red Cross marked on the doors, and the words "Ambulance Anglaise"; but 
 if you will go away directly, I shall not complain to Prince Frederick 
 Charles.' He hesitated, and I seized his horse's bridle and led him to the 
 gate. 'Get out,' I said, 'and never let us see you here again, you sti.ipid boy!' 
 He did get out, arid liis companions followed him, and never from that day 
 had we any annoyance. Tlie poor Sisters gave a sigh of relief, Louise and I 
 retired upon our laurels to the calm of our own room, and so ended the 
 defeat of the Uhlans in the Convent of St. Marc. 
 
 We were now getting uneasy; our gold was running short. The 33/. due 
 to me by the National Society, instead of being paid me in London in time 
 to get it in napoleons,* had been sent after me in a cheque, that no one 
 would look at. I consulted everybody, and was told I could get it at Tours 
 or Bourges. Now, this was a three days' journey, and I hesitated; but we 
 saw the men needing wine, tobacco, and vegetables, that only ready money 
 could procure; we wanted instruments, too, and other business had to be 
 transacted; so we resolved that Louise should remain to guard the two 
 houses against all comers, and I should go to Bourges. Lord Lyonst had left 
 
 Gold 20-franc coins. These were first struck by the French Imperial Mint when Napoleon ruled 
 much of Europe and so bore his head crowned with a laurel wreath. Even a century after his 
 defeat, napoleons continued as the standard of continental Europe's gold economy. 
 t The workaholic British Ambassador to France firom 1867 until 1887. Lord Lyons believed it his 
 duty to be in the embassy all the time except for his annual holiday, but the Franco-Prussian war 
 had compelled him to leave Paris.
 
 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 225 
 
 Tours, but was reported to be there. I went to the Prussian Commandant de 
 Place and asked for a safe-conduct to Tours. He said certainly, but I must 
 go round by Versailles and Rouen. To this I replied, 'Nonsense! Do look at 
 your map. Really, I cannot afford to go that roundabout way.' He turned 
 round, sttidied a map, and said, 'Madame, you are right; Versailles is out of 
 the way; Will you go to Nantes?' 'Now, why should I go to Nantes?' I 
 remonstrated. 'I have no business there.' 'Well, Madame, you see you 
 might give intelligence of what is going on in our lines if you went straight 
 to Tours. If ten days have passed before you reach it anything you say will 
 be of no use.' 'Colonel,' I said, 'if I am a spy, I could go straight to Rouen, 
 and be in French lines in tliirty-six hours. Spies have plenty of money; I 
 have none. I wish to go to the nearest point in French lines, and I intend to 
 go. Please to give me a safe-conduct.' Tlie Colonel burst out laughing, and 
 said, 'Well, I must write that you go to Nantes; but you may go which way 
 you please.' 'Tliank you,' I said; and not pledging myself to visit the 
 ancient Breton city, I took my precious bit of paper, written in blue ink and 
 dried with gold dust,* and walked off. We have that piece of hieroglyphics 
 still. It was never looked at, and shall be framed and glazed as a trophy. 
 
 So far so good; but how to get out of Orleans. The railroad did not run, 
 there were no diligences.t The Prussians had seized all the horses and 
 carriages, and though I saw our friends of the Anglo-American always 
 driving about in a basket phaeton,^ it was not the sort of vehicle for a three 
 days' journey, even if they could have spared it. I went to the President of 
 the French International, on the speculation of borrowing an ambulance 
 waggon, to which oiu' two white ponies might have been harnessed, and 
 there met a very gentlemanly Frenchman, a civilian, who was imploring M. 
 Dubois d' Angers to ask for a safe-conduct for him out of Prussian lines. 
 
 This M. Dubois d' Angers said he could not do, and the young man was 
 evidently 'au desespoir.'* I stated my wish, and he sprang forward and 
 said, 'I have a carriage and horses. If Madame will permit me to 
 accompany her, I will not only take her to Tours or Bourges, but she shall 
 have my carriage and horses to return to Orleans.' Here was an offer. I 
 
 * Formerly sand or pounce (a finely powdered plant gum) was sprinkled on the wet ink to help it 
 dry. Blotting paper came into general use in the mid- 1800s — belatedly, considering that William 
 Horman, Provost of Eton College, wrote in 1519: "Blottyng papyr serveth to drye weete 
 wryttynge." 
 
 t Stagecoaches. 
 
 t An open carriage with a wicker body, designed for light use in summer by ladies with 
 
 voluminous dresses. 
 
 * Despairing.
 
 226 A LOST BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 asked simply, 'But what has Monsieur done to be so anxious to get away?' 
 He turned to M. Dubois d' Angers, and most gracefully begged the honour 
 of a presentation. It was done, and M. Maxime G — then explained that he 
 had expressed himself too freely in tlie presence of a Bavarian officer. He 
 had justified Gambetta, whose personal friend he was, in his policy of 
 guerre a outrance^ he had had a hint that his arrest, tliough he had never 
 fought against the Prussians, was more than probable, and he only prayed 
 to be able to rejoin his wife and child at Pau. I told him that though I would 
 not be responsible for his safety, I should be very thankful for his carriage 
 and escort, and could conceive no reason why I should not accept it. And 
 so it was arranged; at eight next morning I was to be ready for ovir 
 somewhat perilous journey. 
 
 When I got back I found our surgeon in a woeful way. He had been 
 told that, having served with Francs-tireurs, even his profession would not 
 be respected. He was resolved to leave Orleans, and begged us to accept his 
 substitute. Dr. Bertier, of the Garde Mobile of Savoie, who would remain as 
 our surgeon. Next morning I presented myself, and foimd at the door M. 
 Emanuel Dvipoux and M. S — , a merchant of Chambery, all resolved to 
 accompany me. At eight M. Maxime G — arrived with a nice closed 
 carriage, drawn by only one horse. Alas! the Prussians had stolen the other 
 the night before. It was no time for lengthened adieux; difficulty and 
 danger had to be faced, Prussian guards, French outposts, and camp- 
 followers, so with a gay wave of the hand we started. 
 
 The 14th of December was a bright morning, all looked cheerful; it 
 was a good omen for our expedition. As we drove along the quay by the 
 Loire, M. Emanuel Dupoux and M. S — gave me their loaded revolvers, 
 which I put one in each pocket of my dress. It was necessary to have 
 them, yet to have been found with arms might have drawn suspicion on 
 the gentlemen. The little Union-Jack on the carriage blew out in the fresh 
 morning air as we drove over the bridge and past the guard. Not a 
 question was asked, the sentinels there paced up and down, and only 
 gave a glance at the carriage, then down the other bank, and past the 
 sentinels at the outpost. They did not even look at us; we breathed again, 
 and drove merrily on through the lonely, desolate Sologne. We had fairly 
 left Orleans behind us, and were on our way to Vierzon, from whence a 
 line of railroad branches either to Bourges or Tours. 
 
 tAU- 
 
 out war.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 227 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES.* 
 
 The Sologne is a dreary waste of country,t scattered stunted shrubs 
 breaking the monotony of a barren, sandy heath. There is marsh land, too, 
 upon it, where lonely pools look like oases in the desert. A few villages 
 and farms are scattered about it; and the railway from Orleans to Vierzon 
 runs through it, while that from Orleans to Gien runs on the other side of 
 the Loire, which bounds this melancholy region to the east. At La Mothe 
 Beauvroni: is a farm that did belong to the Emperor; he bought land about 
 that place to try if it could not be reclaimed, and the experiment answered; 
 but all the rest is left in its primitive state of desolation. We avoided both 
 the high road by the river and the Imperial Route by the side of the 
 railway, and struck our course right through the heart of the Sologne, 
 midway between the two. I do not suppose English travellers ever went 
 that way; I know no reason why they should. There is nothing to see, and 
 no possible object to be gained by so doing; but, in our case, according to 
 good information sent to us from Vierzon, we should keep clear of 
 Prussian outposts. We might meet a few Uhlans, but they would be 
 simply on a foraging excursion, and have no authority to stop travellers 
 with an English flag. 
 
 We went quietly along, every now and then meeting a peasant, who 
 invariably informed our coachman that a camp of at least ten thousand 
 Prussians lay only five miles off, and my friends were slightly nervous. I 
 had no fear for myself, and all went well till we arrived near Vannes. As 
 we were drawing near, Henri, our coachman, turned round, and made 
 
 * Its official title was I'* Army of the Loire. General Qiarles Bourbaki, (1816-97), who had fought 
 bravely in the Crimean War, took command after the Army of the Loire was split in two following 
 the capture of Orleans. Several armies that took the field against the Prussians after the fall of the 
 empire. The 2"^ Army of the Loire, largely consisting of newly recruited civilians, was commanded 
 by General Antoine Qianzy (1823-83). He opposed the Prussians with great skill, and was made a 
 senator for life in 1875. Napoleon HI had distrusted Chanzy and refused him a major command. 
 
 t On the other hand three Departmental Committees of Tourism have united to insist that Solonge 
 "attracts enthusiasts interested in nature, hunting and fishing due to the extraordinary wealth of the 
 landscapes and the wildlife that abounds." 
 
 t Lamotte-Beuvron is the birthplace of Tarte Tatin — a crusty, caramelised, melt-in-the-mouth 
 apple tart.
 
 228 THEARMYOFTHEVOSGES. 
 
 most frightful and ui-iintelligible faces, which M. Maxime G — translated 
 into 'Uhlans,' and looking out, sure enough there they were, at least eight 
 or nine, clustered round a forge, where the smith was shoeing one of their 
 horses. Henri said, 'We are lost.' The gentlemen were fidgetty, to say the 
 least of it; but it was arranged that I should answer all questions, and, 
 pulling out my safe-conduct, I prepared for the encounter. 'Drive on 
 slowly and steadily, Henri,' I said, ' and take no notice of the Prussians.' 
 Henri did so; my heart beat a little fast; we neared them, were up to there, 
 passed them, and drove up the street. We were about to rejoice, when I 
 saw two in full array, lance in rest* and little flags fluttering in the wind, 
 one on each side of the road, keeping watch on the entrance from the 
 Vierzon side. Henri grew pale. 'Drive on,' I said, 'don't stop,' and on we 
 went. The Uhlans smiled and saluted us, but asked no questions; and we 
 were a couple of miles away before we could realise we had passed the 
 last outpost and were free. It was evident, by the watch they kept on the 
 road before them, that they expected the enemy from that side. 
 
 In a couple of hours we reached a small village called 'Isdes,' and 
 halted to rest our poor old horse. We drove into the yard of a small village 
 inn — how clearly even now the scene rises before me. I can see the low 
 shed opposite the house, with a couple of carts standing in it, the straw 
 heaped about the place, and the group of peasants who came around to 
 ask news of Orleans. One amongst them, an intelligent-looking man of 
 thirty, in a blue blouse, was presented as the Mayor. 
 
 M. Maxime G — was well known in the district, having a nice estate 
 near Orleans, and he invited the Mayor to take a glass of wine with us in 
 the long, dark kitchen of the auberge. The Mayor told us that Uhlans had 
 paid a visit to the village about a week before. Their coming had been 
 preceded by the arrival of a man, calling himself 'George,' driving a fine 
 pair of horses in a light country waggon, and proclaiming himself to be in 
 search of two carriage horses, stolen from his master's property, near 
 Gien, by the Prussians. This strange tale seems to have excited no 
 suspicion, and the simple peasants asked what news he brought from his 
 part of the country. He said he had met Uhlans everywhere; they would 
 shortly come there. How much hay and corn was there stored in the 
 village? It had better be hidden. Some, still unsuspecting, answered him; 
 several, however, kept silence, and the result proved their wisdom. Next 
 day came a troop of Uhlans, and 'required' the hay and corn that had 
 been pointed out exactly from those people who had spoken of their 
 
 Each rider's lance, with pennant attached, rested in the support on the side of his breastplate.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 229 
 
 Stores. The same had happened in a neighbouring village. M. Maxime 
 G — instantly exclaimed, 'That man is a spy; we shall have him on our 
 track; he will be here to-day. Be sure he is just ahead of those Uhlans we 
 saw at Vannes, and if he find the coast clear here he'll bring them on.' 
 
 The words were hardly spoken before the Mayor sprang up. 'Le 
 voila!' and, sure enough, a man drove into the yard with the fine horses 
 and light waggon they had been describing to us, and, flinging tlie rope 
 reins to a stable-boy, jumped down and began to bluster about, asking if 
 there were Prussians there. M. Maxime G — , M. Emanuel Dupoux, and M. 
 S — withdrew witli the Mayor, and a consultation was held. It ended in M. 
 Emanuel going to order out our weary horse, and requesting me to be 
 ready for a start. Then they went into the yard and confronted the new- 
 comer. I saw him through the window, a fine man, about forty years of 
 age, six feet high, with dark, curly hair and a rosy complexion. He wore a 
 dark blue woollen guernsey* and fustian trousers, and a crimson 
 handkerchief twisted round his throat. He seemed very excited, and was 
 pulling out more papers and passports and certificates than ever any 
 honest man travelled with. His last passport was only a conditional one. 
 A request from the Mayor of some commune in Alsace addressed to the 
 Mayor of the first town still in French possession to furnish George (I 
 forget his other name) with a passport, if he thought proper so to do. The 
 rest were certificates of character from various masters he had served. He 
 spoke German very well. This he accounted for by being a native of 
 Alsace, but his story about his master's horses was very vague, and whilst 
 fumbling with his papers one fell out. M. Emanuel seized it. It was a 
 German cheque on a banker at Hamburg. 
 
 That settled the matter. The Mayor took M. Maxime G — aside, and I 
 caught the words, 'Keep him safe, or he'll bring the Uhlans upon you and 
 us.' Two strong peasants placed themselves on either side of George, and 
 the gentlemen and the Mayor withdrew with some dozen peasants, and 
 held conference in the long shed. George saw that his fate himg in the 
 balance, and, catching sight of me, suddenly dashed up the steps down 
 which I was coming to get into the carriage, and began with trembling 
 hands to show me his papers. M. Emanuel ran forward, and called me to 
 get in quick. I did so; the coachman mounted, and the carriage was driven 
 out of the yard. I looked back as we halted in the lane. I saw the crowd 
 close round George; I heard loud voices. I saw our friends disengage 
 
 * A close-fitting woollen sweater, especially one worn by sailors and gold-miners. Fustian refers 
 to coarse twilled cotton cloths, including corduroy.
 
 230 THEARMYOFTHEVOSGES. 
 
 themselves, followed by the Mayor, who shook hands with M. Maxime 
 G — saying, 'Yes, it must be, for the safety of all.' 
 
 The gentlemen got in, and we drove up a cross lane leading to 
 Cerdon, tlius leaving the road we had been traversing before, so that, 
 supposing tlie villagers were true and silent, all trace of our way would be 
 lost. Tlie road was a short, steep ascent to a sandy down. As we reached 
 tlie top I heard the ring of half-a-dozen rifles, and I saw the gentlemen 
 look at each other, but no remark was made. But I knew what it was, and 
 that George would give no more information to tlie Uhlans waiting at 
 Vannes. 
 
 It was a dreary drive to Cerdon. The road in one place had been cut, 
 but a lad who accompanied us from Isdes showed us a path cunningly 
 hidden by bending down brushwood where, if we got out and walked, 
 our carriage could pass. It rained hard, but there was no help for it, and as 
 we were getting out we saw a strange sight in such a journey. Tliere came 
 along the road a neatly-dressed woman with a Red-Cross brassard on her 
 arm, driving a very good horse in a light covered cart. She was evidently 
 much frightened at us, and M. Maxime G — , going up, politely saluted 
 her, and asked her what she was doing there all alone, and what 
 assistance we could be. She, too, pulled out a paper; but this time it was 
 correct. She was servant in a very large farm about ten miles off. The 
 Prussians were hourly expected, and her master had told her to take his 
 best horse and his cart to Bourges, to save them from the Uhlans. She 
 wanted to pass on, and was most grateful for being shown the side-path 
 round the obstruction. Her horse was young and fresh, ours old, lame, 
 and tired, so that when we rejoined the high road we soon lost sight of 
 her. 
 
 We had intended to sleep at Aubigny, but at Cerdon our horse was so 
 done up we could get no farther. Cerdon was another miserable village. 
 The Mayor; an old friend of M. Maxime G — 's father, arrived to call upon 
 us, with two or three of his acquaintances. They heard the tale of George's 
 arrival at Vannes, and expressed themselves delighted that he was not 
 likely to pay them another visit. So wild and lonely was this Sologne 
 village, that I was not sorry to find two of our party were to sleep in the 
 room adjoining mine, and M. Maxime G — and his coachman in a little 
 room at the foot of the staircase. The loaded revolvers were placed vmder 
 my pillow, ready to be handed out if required, and, forgetting danger and 
 hardship, I slept soundly. 
 
 We found next morning we were only an hour from Aubigny, a pretty 
 little town, entered by a bridge over a narrow, clear stream. Here Henri,
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 231 
 
 the coachman, insisted upon stopping for half an hour, in spite of our 
 remonstrances. We strolled through the town, and saw several mediaeval 
 houses and an interesting old castle, now an Ambulance, with a 
 picturesque entrance gateway. I know nothing of its history. Murray does 
 not even name the town; yet it is well worth a visit.* The only direction I 
 can give is that it is in the midst of the Sologne. We halted again at a 
 village on the high road, where M. Emanuel and myself agreed it would 
 be better that the party should sleep. We were not far from Bourges, and 
 by an early start should be there in good time next day. But Henri was 
 obstinate; it would be impossible; the inn at Henrichemont was the best 
 about there; it was a little farther on, and would shorten the stage next 
 day. We were over-persuaded, and went on. We found we were taken a 
 good way to the left, and, therefore, a little further from Bourges, which 
 was straight before us; and, as we guessed, the circumstance of our 
 quitting the direct road and coming round by Henrichemont, for no 
 apparent purpose, brought suspicion upon us. 
 
 Henrichemontt is a pretty town, with a handsome central market- 
 place. But we were no sooner in the hotel than I found we were taken for 
 Prussian spies. Henri, too, was stupidly mysterious. He had been told, on 
 the best authority, that Prussians were between us and Bourges; and he 
 made matters worse by refusing to tell his master's name. Whilst we were 
 at dinner the Mayor was annoimced. His manner was very peculiar; he 
 said he came to inform us that a sortie had been made from Paris; that 
 Versailles was occupied by the French, and King William flying for his life 
 to Rheims. How did we like that? My companions said truthfully, very 
 much indeed if it were true; but it seemed too good news to be credible. 
 The Mayor looked sulky, and walked out, saying the sous-prefet would be 
 there in the morning. 
 
 Very early next day M. Emanuel went to see the sous-prefet, and came 
 back indignant at his insulting manner. However, the authorities could 
 find no pretext for detaining us, myself especially, in consequence of my 
 English passport, and we started. I begged Henri to go straight to 
 Bourges, and he promised he would. We had not left Henrichemont an 
 hour before we saw, in the dip of the road, a large body of cavalry. My 
 friends grew very nervous. It would be too hard to be so near freedom 
 and fail at the eleventh hour. I looked out. I caught a gleam of scarlet. 
 
 * This village of 2,385 inhabitants with a most attractive Romanesque church is now chiefly proud 
 of its museum of 50 giant objects including a coffee grinder, spinning wheel, and weighing scales. 
 t Some 7 km west of Henrichemont is the viUage of La Borne, renowned for its pottery since the 
 16* cenmry. Its black clay fires a toasty brown. Fifty potters fi-om around the world work there.
 
 232 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 
 
 'French Cuirassiers!' I cried. M. S— looked out, ar\d gave a shout of 
 ecstasy. 'Nous sommes libres!' was all he could say. We drove on; we 
 passed the troops, and it was a comfortable feeling that five hundred good 
 sabres were between us and the Prussian lines. Henri, imagining all safe, 
 insisted on halhng for luncheon at a small town crowded with troops; and 
 here again the gentlemen were taken for Prussian spies, and were in a 
 very bad temper at their reception by their country men. But the truth 
 was, the whole affair was considered so extraordinary — how we could 
 possibly get out of Prussian lines unquestioned and unchallenged, and 
 come in safety through the lonely district of the Sologne; that it was 
 difficult for them to believe in our tale of having quietly driven out of 
 Orleans to go to Bourges as if it were a summer day's excursion. 
 
 We reached Bourges at last. The high road was blocked by artillery 
 going to join General Bourbaki's* head-quarters at La Charite, near 
 Nevers. Infantry, cavalry, artillery, waggons of ammunition and 
 provision, Mobiles, Francs-tireurs, all were there. We asked what corps 
 d'armee'f it was. 'The 18th,' was the answer; 'part of the Army of the 
 Vosges.' Bourges was crowded with troops; but, fortunately, owing to the 
 lucky chance of my being recognised by the mistress of the hotel, I 
 obtained a small room. Having taken possession of it, I went out to try 
 and cash my unlucky cheque. In vain. I was assured by two bankers that 
 under present circumstances it was impossible; I might get it done at 
 Poitiers. Lord Lyons was at Bordeaux, there I should be sure to succeed; 
 but to go to Bordeaux to find thirty-three pounds was absurd. I bestowed 
 a hearty grumble on the British Committee and their utter want of 
 forethought, and gave it up. 
 
 Had this been my only business my expedition would have been a 
 failure; but it was not. Just the day before Orleans was closed in, I had 
 received a letter informing me of 500/. worth of stores sent out by an agent 
 to be confided to us, to form an Ambulance for the Army of the Vosges. 
 They were to come to Tours. Since then we had heard nothing of them, 
 and it was clearly our duty to see they were not lost. At Bourges I heard 
 English stores had passed through and gone to 'head-quarters' at Autun. 
 General Garibaldi was still there, and there I could hear where the stores 
 were, and if we were wanted. I found I could get by Nevers to Aution, and 
 resolved to go on next day. My three friends begged me to dine with them 
 
 The group of France's brightest mathematicians who, around 1930, took Bourbaki as their collective 
 pen name did so to commemorate the dim-witted World War 1 general Nicholas Bourbaki. 
 
 t Component of an army, a corps consists of two or more divisions.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 233 
 
 at the table d'hote, a farewell dinner, and I did so. Their joy and gratitude 
 were most touching, and when next morning early I started for Autun 
 they all escorted me to the railway station. 
 
 We got to Nevers at noon, and here we had to make a long stop. I 
 engaged a commissionnaire* to show me the town, which he did by going 
 full speed up and down the streets, saying as he went, 'Tliat's a church, 
 that's the Hotel de Ville, that's an hotel,' and not proposing going inside 
 any of them. Hie Cathedral was remarkably dirty and not very beautiful, 
 and the town not much worth a visit. There were very few soldiers in it, 
 only National Guards being drilled. All the troops were being sent to La 
 Charite. 
 
 When I returned to the hotel I found a young Englishman there who 
 had come out with a few bales from the British National Society, which, as 
 there were no woimded at Nevers, was a superfluous proceeding. He could 
 not give me change for my cheque, to my great disappoiiitment. He talked 
 of going back to England via Poitiers. It is rather a round-about way, but 
 doubtless he arrived safe at last. In the evening I started for Autun. The 
 scenery was lovely, and the mountains of the Vosges showed themselves in 
 the distance. It was quite dark, however, before we reached our 
 destination. I could find neither fiacret nor porter, so, asking my way to the 
 best hotel, I set off to find it. But under General Garibaldi's rule early hours 
 prevailed. It was barely ten o'clock, yet not a soul was in the streets, not a 
 sound to be heard. The hotel was closed, but when I knocked the door was 
 opened. To my dismay, they had not a vacant room. I tried two others with 
 the same ill success, and, tired and weary, I sat down on a bench in tlie 
 kitchen of the last one, and begged them to let me stay there till morning. 
 
 The good woman was about to consent, when an Italian Franc-tireur, 
 who, seeing the light, came in, insisted that I was a spyl: and must go to 
 the guard-house till the Prefet could be found. There was only one 
 resource. I said, 'Very well, take me to the General.' At first he refused, 
 but I persisted, and we set off. How weary and dispirited I felt! and how 
 
 * In France a commissionaire is an agent who undertakes responsibility for the transportation of 
 goods, but here the context indicates a man who undertook the guiding commission for a fee. 
 Lovely though Nevers is, she would have had better sightseeing at Bourges with its Saint-Etienne 
 Cathedral (included in UNESCO's World Heritage list), etc. 
 
 t Small carriage used as a taxi. 
 
 t Such an accusation could lead to summary execution by ignorant soldiery, as evidenced by a British 
 war correspondent's personal experience recorded in The World's Story: A History of the World in 
 Story, Song and Art. Eva March Tappan ed, 14 Vols. Boston, 1914, Vol. VII, pp. 237-248. 
 (bttp://www. fordham.edu/halsall/mod/ 1 870war 1 Jitml)
 
 234 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 
 
 utterly disgusted when, entering a small cabaret, my captor told me to 
 come in and wait while he and a companion who had joined him drank 
 absinthe. This I positively declined, and a boy Garde Mobile who was 
 passing stopped and asked me what it was all about. I explained; he was 
 most indignant, and told the Francs-tireurs, if I was a spy, I ought to be 
 taken directly to the Prefecture, and he should go with me l-iimself as far. 
 Poor lad! he had to march to La Charite at tliree in the morning, but he 
 came with us to the gate of the Prefectxire, where, to my relief, I saw a 
 sentinel. My captor began to look very foolish, and the sentinel told us to 
 go into the hall. We entered a brightly-lighted vestibule. An officer dozing 
 on a bench sprang up, I instantly addressed him, and begging me to sit 
 down, he ran upstairs and brought back a most elegant, courteous old man 
 in a fine crimson tlannel shirt and gold sword-belt arotmd his waist. I never 
 heard his name, but his fatherly kindness I cannot easily forget. I told him 
 my errand, showed him my letters of introduction, and he turned quickly 
 round to the Franc-tireur, demanding by what right he had dared to arrest 
 a lady with a letter to the General and an English passport. Tlie man 
 shuffled and tried to explain, but the officer ordered him out, assuring him 
 that in the morning he should be taught a lesson in the difference between 
 an English lady and a Prussian spy, and so dismissed him. 
 
 What I was to do was now the question. It appears that after the 
 retreat was sounded* at nine P.M. all pleasure and business ceased, and 
 the inhabitants of the Prefectvire were in their first sleep, though it was not 
 eleven o'clock. The General allowed neither drinking nor gambling, his 
 own habits, so singularly quiet and even Spartan in their simplicity, were 
 copied by his officers, and the discipline of his corps d'armee was far 
 superior to that of the new French levies. A few words of consultation 
 between the two officers resulted in the elder one offering me his bed- 
 room, a dark closet opening off the first-floor corridor. The bed was a 
 heap of straw; no light was possible, it would have been dangerous in so 
 small a space,t but weary as I was it was most inviting. I laid down on the 
 straw, the kind old officer covered me up with a huge military cloak, and 
 saying, 'Rest quietly, Madame; under the General's roof you are perfectly 
 safe,' bade me a kind good night, and withdrew. 
 
 Dawn was just breaking when the opening of the door aroused me. It 
 was my old friend. He took me into a room opposite, where was the 
 officer on guard, reading by a table, with his revolver in front of him; and 
 
 The military bugle call or drumbeat signalling the lowering of the flag at sunset. 
 t Edison did not introduce the light bulb until 1 879.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 235 
 
 my kind friend, who, I fouiid, had passed the night on a chair in the 
 corridor, retired for an hour's sleep on the straw in the closet. The officer 
 begged me to sit awhile by the blazing fire and tell him all the news. 
 There was not much that he did not know, except the difficulty of gethng 
 provisions and wood in Orleans. About seven he summoned a young 
 officer and told him to take me to the best hotel, 'La Poste.' I should there 
 find an English lady who could give me all the information I sought about 
 the stores and the Ambulance work, and with my young escort I again 
 sallied forth. 
 
 Madame M. W — was not up. I arranged to return to the Prefecture 
 and see the General, and then the kind landlady found me a recently 
 vacated room, where I made myself look as respectable as possible mider 
 the circumstances, and enjoyed some hot coffee. 1 then went back to the 
 Prefecti.ire, and on my way bought a pair of gloves, for the purpose of a 
 chat with some inhabitants. I spoke with several tradespeople and heard 
 but one account, how very orderly the General's troops were. It was 
 utterly untrue that the Eveche at Avitim had been invaded by the soldiers. 
 No annoyance of any sort had been suffered by the Bishop, or priests. The 
 churches had not been desecrated, the daily services continued as usual, 
 and the Prefecture had been offered to the General by the sous-prefet. All 
 this I saw and ascertained for myself, and I cannot too much reprehend 
 the practice of those who, from personal prejudice against General 
 Garibaldi, accuse him of acts which never took place, and which 
 accusations they know themselves to be wholly and wilfully false. His 
 own personal character needs no defence from me. His purity of life, his 
 kindness of heart, his generous, unselfish disposition, are acknowledged 
 even by his bitterest enemies, and that they believe him to be mistaken in 
 his course of action is no excuse for cruel and wilful slander. No town that 
 I saw in military occupation was one half so well organised as Autun, and 
 there were no complaints of depredations committed in the villages 
 around. 
 
 It is not my place to enter into any disquisition as to the rights or 
 wrongs of his fighting for France; but it is well to remember, he alone of 
 all the generals during the war never lost a French gvin, and that he alone 
 took a Prussian standard and saved his whole corps d'armee. He carried 
 out his charge of blocking the road to Lyons, and whether the Germans 
 meant to go or not, we all know that they never did get there. I was not 
 surprised at what I heard. In 1867, at Rome, I had been told of the ravages 
 and sacrilege committed by the Garibaldini. I visited every place. I found 
 it utterly imtrue, except at Monte Rotundo, which had been taken by
 
 236 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 
 
 Storm. Nor can I conceive how those who, on the scantiest evidence, call 
 out against the Garibaldini as mere brigands, can reconcile their virtuous 
 horror at such things with the quiet way in which they find excuses for the 
 massacre at Bazeilles and the cruelties of the German troops in the 
 occupied provinces. War is very terrible, but General Garibaldi never 
 made it unnecessarily so, and the next generation, coolly looking back on 
 the events of tliis, will do full justice to 'II Generale.' 
 
 I found at the Prefecture that he was ill in bed, but I saw General 
 Canzio. 1 was received in a salon, in which the furniture remained in its 
 proper place, a noteworthy fact, as contrasted with a Prussian occupation! 
 Several aides-de-camp were sitting reading round a central table. Their 
 dress was soldier-like and simple: a fine scarlet shirt fastened with gold 
 buttons, open at the throat, to show a white shirt and cravat, grey trousers 
 with a crimson stripe, and half boots,* a patent leather sword-belt and 
 slings; gauntlet gloves, a large grey cloak, and a fur cap completed the 
 costvime. They were quiet, gentlemanly men, and General Canzio looked 
 so very English that his face seemed familiar to me. He said the stores had 
 arrived safe, and in our absence had been transferred to Madame M. W — 
 for the use of the Ambulances. Our help would be most welcome, if we 
 could give it. Would I go and consult with her? This was very 
 satisfactory. The loss of so many valuable stores would have been very 
 provoking, and would have entailed a long hunt for them. So that they 
 were safe and in use, it mattered little who gave them away or what corps 
 d'armee had them. 
 
 Another aide-de-camp escorted me to Madame M. W — . Her 
 reception was most warm and cordial; she only regretted 1 had not 
 knocked her upt the night before, and insisted on giving me some 
 luncheon. She most kindly asked me to stay with her till the next day, but, 
 having discovered the stores, I was anxious to return. I found that she was 
 managing the Ambulance work, and perfectly competent to do so. They 
 had very few wounded at present, and it must depend on circumstances 
 whether our assistance would be needed. We arranged that at all events, 
 till further events occurred, there was more work to be done at Orleans. 
 Her kindness and my luncheon quite refreshed me. We lavighed over my 
 miseries of the night before, and at noon she drove me down to the 
 station, and I started for Nevers. I slept there that night. It was most 
 lovely weather — quite warm and spring-like. I sat with the windows 
 
 Reaching halfway up to the knee 
 t Awoken her.
 
 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 237 
 
 Open, enjoying it, and hoped to find it the same at Orleans; but I was 
 cruelly undeceived. 
 
 I reached Bourges next day. At Sanscaize, the junction from La 
 Charite, some French officers got into the train, and one greeted me as a 
 friend. He had been in our Ambulance at Sedan, and preserved a most 
 grateful recollection of the skill and kindness of Dr. Tilghman, and the 
 good nursing he had had there. He had been sent to Mezieres and the 
 north of France as a hopeless invalid, but he had wonderfully recovered, 
 and though the wound in his thigh was yet unhealed, he was able to 
 rejoin, not his regiment — they were all dead or in Prussia — but the 
 depot,* as the nucleus of a new one. He had some fifty men with him, and 
 was especially annoyed at their want of order. They would get out of the 
 train at every stop, and he had to descend and order them in. 
 
 Close by Bourges we had a two hours' delay. The railroad runs on an 
 embankment above the level of the road, which was on the right hand. 
 Beyond that road, on the crest of a rising slope, was another road, and on 
 our left hand another, all. leading towards Nevers. These three roads were 
 a mass of troops going to La Charite, of every kind and sort. Even the 
 Spahist of Africa were there, with their broad stirrups, their red morocco 
 boots, their curved sabres and white burnous. It was reported that they 
 carried a terrible weapon — a lasso with a steel hook at the end, with 
 which to catch unwary Prussians, and drag them from their horses 
 through the dirt. I never heard of its being used. Thousands and 
 thovisands of men passed us, some already foot-sore from being badly 
 shod, and lagging behind. Those bad boots and shoes were the ruin of 
 France.1: One lot was found with brown paper soles. Soldiers could not 
 march and fight lame and crippled from want of proper boots. If ever 
 England goes to war, which God forbid, let there be special care taken that 
 the boots and shoes of our brave fellows are well-made, strong-soled, and 
 easy fitting, and we shall avoid one cause of French defeats. 
 
 We got weary of waiting. The gate across the railway was kept closed, 
 but we saw a break in one of the long columns, and, escorted by my 
 military friends, I availed myself of that, and walked iiito Bourges. Tlie 
 first man I met in the streets was M. S — , gorgeously costumed as 
 
 * A station for assembling military recruits and forwarding them to active units. 
 
 t French cavalrymen from Algeria. They were named after the spahis who were the Ottoman 
 Empire's equivalent of mediaeval European knights, providing the bulk of its army until about the 
 mid-sixteenth century in return for grants of land to which serfs were attached. 
 
 t The boots had been made of spongy, poorly tanned leather which could not withstand marches 
 in snow and mud and were generally too tight.
 
 238 THE ARMY OF THE VOSGES. 
 
 Commandant of Gardes Mobiles. How changed he was from the shabby, 
 depressed man who had travelled with us from Orleans. His good- 
 natured countenance was beaming with smiles as he presented me to his 
 General, who said in his graceful French way, 'I thank you, Madame, for 
 having given back a sword to France.'* He looked so happy that it was 
 quite a pleasure to see him. M. Emanuel, too, was there; he was going 
 back to his home; and M. Maxime G — had already left, to rejoin his wife. 
 
 I found, however, he had left his carriage and Henri, and next 
 morning I started on my return to Orleans. A poor coachman begged for a 
 lift. His well-autlienticated story was a straiige one. A countess from 
 Alsace had borrowed tlie carriage and horses of this poor man's master to 
 take her to Bourges. Tlie Prussian Commandant had sent them all round 
 by Nevers; however, they got there at last, and here my lady presented the 
 carriage and horses to a French Geiieral on receiving a consideration of 
 two-thirds of their value, and gave the coachman a napoleon to get back 
 with. He would have had to walk, but I gladly consented to his occupying 
 the other seat on the box. He was obliged to get back to Orleans to explain 
 what had happened as soon as possible, and brought with him all the 
 necessary papers to enable his master to prosecute the said countess. 
 
 Before leaving Bourges I went to the Prefecture to ask for a safe- 
 conduct, and was referred to the Commandant de Place. Finding that I 
 should have been detained too late, I resolved to start without it. Henri's 
 parents lived at Romorantin, half-way to Orleans. He was well known on 
 the road, and my German safe-conduct secured us from all danger from 
 Prussian picquets. It was, however, nearly noon before we drove out of 
 Bourges, and still on every street, on every road around the town, we saw 
 the apparently countless thousands of the Army of the Vosges. 
 
 The emperor had handed over his sword during the surrender ceremony.
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 We passed out of Bourges unchallenged, and drove away by the road to 
 Vierzon. We reached that place before sunset, and found it had been 
 occupied by the Prussians, but evacuated, and the belief was, there was 
 none of the enemy nearer than the outposts round Orleans. There was a 
 very small garrison of French troops in the town, but a great many 
 trainards or lingerers from the battalions which had passed through on 
 their way to Bourges and Nevers. We made no halt here, but pushed on to 
 a village some miles beyond, called Mennetou, where we stayed while the 
 horse was shod. The auberge, though humble, was very respectable, and I 
 advised sleeping there, thinking it better to remain where evidently no 
 suspicion was entertained of our being Prussian spies, rather than go 
 farther, to encounter, perhaps, all the trouble and delay of such an 
 accusation; but Henri was sure that he could reach his father's house at 
 Romorantin that night, and there we should be quite safe from annoyance. 
 
 So on we went; it was dark when we entered another small village, 
 full of lingerers from the main body of the army. I told Henri to drive 
 straight through, but he would stop to find intelligence, as he said, and to 
 take a glass of cognac, as I saw; and while the carriage was standing in the 
 street, a man, looking like a miller or baker, came up to the window, and 
 began to cross-question me. I answered him frankly, and thought 1 had 
 got rid of him. I saw him go-into the auberge, and a few minutes after 
 Henri came out and said they would not allow our carriage to go on; we 
 must go to the Maire. I was very much disgusted, and told Henri it was 
 all his fault; had we driven quietly tlirough we should have attracted no 
 attention, and this would not have occurred. I found our accuser did not 
 accompany us, only an energetic patriot, who, on being asked what 
 authority he had to interfere, vanished in the darkness. 
 
 We found the Mayor at supper with his wife. He was very nervous, 
 especially when I showed my English passport, with the royal arms 
 flourishing upon it. He caught sight, however, of the Prussian vise, and 
 remarked it was German; what was it about, and I had to explain that the
 
 240 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 passport was vised tor all countries, including Russia, Turkey, Italy, and 
 Spain, as he might see, English being free to travel anywhere, and, taking 
 the offensive upon myself, I demanded by what right any Frenchman, 
 seeing, as the miller had done, my passport, and knowing the coachman 
 who was driving me to be an inhabitant of a town five miles off, dare stop 
 me on my way. The Mayor made many humble apologies, and ordered a 
 servant to go back with us to the carriage and see us off, and to seek for 
 the miller, to punish his unauthorised interference. The miller, how ever, 
 was nowhere visible. The indignant eloquence of the other coachman who 
 had remained with the carriage had convinced the crowd of our not being 
 Prvissian spies, and we drove on again without further hindrance. All this 
 made it very late before we entered Romorantin. 
 
 Henri's father was knocked up, and, astonished as he was, gave us a 
 most cordial reception. He was delighted to see his son, and thanked me 
 much for coming round by Romorantin, to give the family that pleasure. 
 Under their hospitable roof I slept honoured and secure, and before 
 awoke next morning they had seen the sous-prefet, and obtained a safe- 
 conduct from him to go, if possible, to Orleans. I did hope our troubles 
 were ended; but not so. 
 
 We left Romorantin at eleven A.M. It was a quiet-looking town. About 
 three hundred Prussian dragoons had passed through, and demanded 
 food for themselves and forage for their horses, which was given, and 
 they departed, and no others had, up to that time, arrived. We were going 
 steadily along the road, hoping to reach Caumont-sur-Tharonne by 
 dinner-time, for there the other coachman was well known, and we 
 should probably be free from annoyance; but as we came near 
 Chateauvieux we met an old farmer and his wife jogging along in a cart, 
 and they told us that a bridge just ahead had been blown up, and we must 
 turn off the high road into the marshes below, cross the stream, which was 
 very shallow, and so arrive on the other side of the bridge to rejoin the 
 road. Our poor old horse was so lame and tired, and his shoulder so sore, 
 that I felt convinced he never could drag the carriage through the boggy 
 ground, and so the farmer thought, and then he most kindly offered, if we 
 would wait till he had deposited his wife, to send his man back with his 
 horse, to help ours through. So steep was the bank, I preferred to get out 
 and walk — the carriage coming after, drawn by the two horses, tandem 
 fashion, and plunging about in a most uncomfortable way. I should have 
 continued my march on foot, but the water grew too deep, and, with 
 many misgivings, I got into the carriage. Every moment I thought we
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 241 
 
 should be over, but the drivers urged on the horses, and we got safely 
 over the stream and marsh. I offered a trifling recompense, but it was 
 refused. The farmer would take nothing for helping an English lady who 
 was nursing Ws countrymen. 
 
 When we reached Chateauvieux, our poor horse was half dead. We 
 must sleep there, and we pulled up at the inn. But hardly had I sat down 
 by the kitchen fire to wait till a room was ready for me, when Henri 
 entered to say the landlord would not allow us to remain as being 
 suspicious, characters. I spoke to him, and trying to convince him 1 was 
 not a Prussian spy, I pulled out the English brassard, which, though I did 
 not wear, I had in my pocket. He flew into a fury. He had had gentlemen 
 there with that band — they were Ambulance men, they had come with 
 the Prussians. They had dined, had forage for their horses and beds for 
 themselves, and next day, when he presented his bill, refvised to pay, 
 saying they had a right to requisitions. By the description of the waggons, 
 I knew they could not be Anglo-Americans, nor do I know to what 
 Ambulance they belonged. However, their conduct was our misfortune. 
 All remonstrance was vain; out we must go. The horse must be led at 
 foot-pace to Caumont, and we must walk; it was only four miles, but the 
 sleet was falling fast. 
 
 At this juncture I remembered that in the chateau from which the 
 village took its name, and which was just opposite the inn, lived two 
 French nobles — the Laselles* — brothers in-law of Marshal MacMahon, 
 and sons of an English mother, and I resolved to ask them if they could 
 not send me on to Caumont. I went accordingly to the chateau. Madame 
 de Laselles was absent, but the Vicomte and his brotlier were only in the 
 groimds, and would be back directly. The servants — pretty-looking, 
 active girls — were most sympathising, and placed me close to the wood 
 
 * There seems to be no noble family named de Laselles. There could not have been two brothers- 
 in-law of Marshal MacMahon, because his wife, Sophie Elisabeth Charlotte de La Croix de 
 Castries (1834-1900), had only one brother and one sister, respectively Edouard (who in 1864 
 married Iphigenie , daughter of Baron Sina de Hados, an Austrian banker), and Jeanne (who, a 
 week later, was married to comte Robert de Beaumont). Furthermore, none of MacMahon' s blood 
 brothers fit the other data given. 
 
 One can only speculate... The youngest son of Henry Lascelles, the 2nd Earl of Harewood, was 
 Major Arthur Lascelles (1807-1880), whose eldest brother was Viscount Lascelles. As all four of 
 Arthur's elder brothers were dead by 1870, he may well have succeeded to the title. Arthur and 
 his wife Caroline Frances (died 1895), the only child of Sir Richard Brooke, 6"* bart., could have 
 had a chateau in France in addition to their seat at Norley Bank. Cheshire. Caroline's absence 
 might have been due to her returning to England for Christmas with their first-bom child, Ernest, 
 aged seven months. The identity of the unnamed self-proclaimed brother remains a mystery.
 
 242 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 fire blazing in the huge kitchen fireplace. Presently a tall, gentlemanly 
 man entered, bringing some fish he had caught. I rose and explained my 
 tale: he said his brotlier, M. Arthur de Laselles, was Mayor of the 
 commune and the man in authority, but he himself would go with me to 
 the auberge, to try to bring the man to reason. We found the poor horse 
 harnessed, and Henri and the coachman ready for our walk. Hie Vicomte 
 spoke very severely to the landlord, who persisted in his refusal to take us 
 in. if your brother makes a requisition to me to lodge these people here, 
 good; I must. If not, I refuse altogether.' The Vicomte turned to me, 
 saying, it is certain, Madame, that you cai-inot remain here to be subject to 
 this insolence. I recjuest you will accept a dinner and bed at my chateau.' 
 I thanked him most sincerely, apologised for the trouble I was giving, and 
 accepted his hospitality as frankly as it was offered. He ordered the 
 coachman to bring the carriage and horse to the stables of tlie chateau, and 
 there we all proceeded. The Vicomte and myself re entered by the great 
 kitchen, for the upper part of the house was kept closely barred. 
 
 There we found his brother, the Mayor of the commune. I showed 
 him my papers. He said they were as correct as possible. The innkeeper 
 was a surly, drunken fellow, and must be punished. In opening my bag to 
 get the papers out I pulled out a parcel of French newspapers only two 
 days old. 'Can it be possible,' said the Vicomte; 'are these new 
 newspapers?' I was very glad to hand them all over to my kind hosts, 
 only asking to have them back in the momiitg, as I had promised the 
 Bishop of Orleans to bring him some. The gentlemen took them, saying 
 they had seen none for three weeks, nor heard one word of news outside 
 their village, and became instantly immersed in their contents, whilst I 
 was taken upstairs to a splendid room, where a bright wood fire was 
 blazing. Dii\ner was soon announced, and my hosts' kindness made me 
 feel quite at home. 
 
 I left the chateau at eight the next morning, the Vicomte coming down 
 to the carriage with me, and his brother giving me a fresh safe-conduct. I 
 never had an opportvmity to thank the Vicomte de Laselles for his 
 courtesy and kindness, but I have not, nor ever shall forget it. All this 
 trouble, however, depressed me much. It is so miserable to be an object of 
 distrust, especially to those whose interests lie close at heart. 
 
 It froze hard, it snowed. I felt thoroughly cold, but I wrapped myself 
 up as well as I could, and was half dozing, when a call from my coachman 
 startled me. The carriage stopped, and looking up I saw an Uhlan, lance
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 243 
 
 in hand, close to the window. I instantly began to get out the Prussian 
 safe-conduct, but the trooper shook his head, and two or three others 
 coming up behind him jabbered away at a fvirious rate. 'What do you 
 want,' said I, 'if you will not look at Colonel Leuthold's safe-conduct? 
 'Ah, Madame speaks German,' said the first Uhlan-a fair, mild-looking 
 young man. Then came a short consultation between them all, and the 
 first, riding up still closer, said mysteriously, pointing to the little Union- 
 Jack I had flying from the carriage, 'Madame is English?' 'Certainly,' I 
 replied. ' That is good,' he went on; 'the English speak the truth. You will 
 tell us the truth, will you not?' Yes,' I answered, very much puzzled, T 
 will tell you the truth, or not answer at all. What is it you wish to know?' 
 'Ah! most worthy and gracious lady!' continued my friend, 'you see I am 
 young, I want to go back to Stettin to my mother; we none of us wish to be 
 killed. Will yovi tell us truly, are there any Francs-tireurs on the road to 
 Vierzon? 'I will tell you truly, my friend,' I replied, infinitely amused. 
 'There are none as far as Romorantin. Beyond, I think there are, and you 
 will not be safe.' 'We all thank you,' they shouted in chorus. 'A good 
 voyage to you; we shall not leave La Ferte St.-Aubin.' 'Will you be so 
 kind as to see,' I called out, 'that we are not taken for Prussian spies? We 
 have been much troubled by that.' 'Leave it to us,' said my first friend. 
 'You will have no more trouble now we are here;' and sure enough we 
 had no more. 
 
 At La Ferte St.-Aubin we halted for breakfast, and heard a ludicrous 
 story of a Prussian General who arrived, ordered a superb dinner, good 
 wine, and beds for himself and his staff, and when the bill was presented 
 next day gave the poor woman an order on a banker in Berlin! Her 
 husband, however, vowed that when peace came he would go to Berlin 
 and cash the cheque. I do hope it will not be retvirned marked 'no effects.' 
 I should think it very likely. 
 
 At last Orleans came in sight. How 1 longed for the quiet convent and 
 the warm welcome. It was really like going home. We drove over the 
 bridge, which we heard had been blown up, and speculated how to cross 
 the Loire if it were, down the Quai du Chatelet, across the railway bridge, 
 and there was the English flag, floating bravely out over the convent gate, 
 the Tricolor on one side, the Red Cross on the other, and in a few 
 moments more I was enthusiastically welcomed by Sisters, patients, 
 Infirmiers, and last, not least, Louise. She told me all that occurred since I 
 left. Our Spanish noble had left, and was to be replaced as secretary by an 
 invalid sous-lieutenant of Zouaves, who was to have his permission from
 
 244 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 the Prussians. Dr. Bertier was still there, assisted by a Dr. Bock, a 
 Prussian, from the Hospital La Charite at Berlin, who was so kind, so 
 clever, and so pleasant, tliat he was as popular with the French as the 
 Germans. Some few men had got much better and been sent away 
 prisoners, they had been replaced by others, and a great evacuation of 
 some twenty from St. Marc and twenty from Ste. Marie was to take place 
 the Monday or Tuesday after Christmas Day. Beyond this there was no 
 
 news.* 
 
 One of the grand vicars, who had seen the carriage, came to call, and 
 brought a message from the Bishop to go and see him next day, if I could, 
 and to him I lent two newspapers, which I heard of three weeks 
 afterwards as having made the circuit of the town, and having been 
 looked upon as great curiosities. Can we fancy such a state of things in a 
 town of 50,000 inhabitants, and only seventy-five miles from Paris? — such 
 an utter being cut off from the world outside, confined within the narrow 
 circuit of the city, no letters, no newspapers, no railways, no diligences, no 
 means of communication with the rest of France. We could come and go, 
 we could send and get letters by the Feld-post (not that we got more than 
 one or two at that time, and most of ours to home missed). We were 
 English, but for the poor French there were no means of receiving 
 intelligence or of leaving or entering the town. It was well for us that hard 
 work and much kindness from all around made us as happy as it was 
 possible to be amidst sad scenes and some hardship, felt all the more 
 keenly, perhaps, just at this Christmas time. It was so bitterly cold, and 
 the house was warmed by hot-air pipes, and the furnaces would not burn 
 wood. There was no coal or coke to be had. It required two Sisters to feed 
 the kitchen stove with fuel, small pieces of brvishwood, cut short, being 
 the only ones that could be got into it, and they burnt up quickly. For us 
 there were no Christmas chimes, the Germans did not allow any church 
 bells to be rung; all were silenced, and the effect was very strange, 
 especially on a Sunday. 
 
 On Christmas Eve we expended some of our remaining gold in the 
 purchase of tobacco for the French wounded. The Germans had it from 
 
 * On 21 December the French thrust out at the siege lines in the Le Bourget region in the 
 northeast. The French were forced back after losing more than 2,000 troops, compared with the 
 500 f*russian losses. 
 
 The Prussian guns ringing Paris began a general bombardment of the city on 27 December. 
 Approximately 12,000 shells fell on the city during the next three weeks killing 27 people and 
 injuring another 278.
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 245 
 
 the stores of the Johanniter Ritter. Great preparations were made for the 
 midnight Mass. We helped to decorate the chapel, and with difficulty 
 found in the city two large pots of white heaths, and a huge bouquet of 
 camellias, azaleas, and ferns. The chaplains went round the wards to see 
 and converse with every man, and the Protestant Germans expressing a 
 great wish to be present, special seats were reserved for them. When at 11 
 P.M. the service commenced, the chapel was crowded. Tlie music was 
 conducted by the Sisters, and the 'Adeste Fideles' was beautifully simg, 
 all joining in it. Tlie lights, the flowers, the incense, the dark robes of the 
 Sisters, tlie uniforms of the soldiers, all made up a scene never to be 
 forgotten. Several of the wounded were carried in on chairs, and when the 
 administration of the Holy Communion commenced, it was a most 
 toucWng sight. There French and Germans, everything of struggle and 
 contest forgotten, enmity and hatred put away for the time, victor and 
 vanquished, knelt side by side before their Lord. A wounded Uhlan was 
 assisted up to the Altar by a Turco and a Chasseur d' Afrique,* and a 
 Garde Mobile leant on the strong arm of a German dragoon. Such a 
 realisation of 'Peace on earth, good will to men,' we shall never see again 
 in this stormy, weary world. 
 
 The service over, mutual greetings in the corridor followed. The good 
 Mother Superior had ordered a basin of warm strong soup to be served to 
 every man. It was quickly carried into the wards by the Infirmiers, and at 1 
 A.M. the whole house was quiet. It was the only place in Orleans where the 
 midnight Mass was celebrated, and here it was done by special permission 
 of the authorities and the Bishop. The Germans kept Christmas Day gaily. 
 There were banquets at the Prefecture, where were the head-quarters of 
 Prince Frederick Charles, and at the houses of various other Prussian 
 officials, causing an enormous consumption of firewood and champagne, 
 and a cutting down of all the tops of the fir-trees in the neighbourhood for 
 Christmas trees. The Anglo-Americans had a dinner party, and the few 
 English in Orleans tried to make believe it was Christmas Day in an attempt 
 at English festivity and roast hirkey and plum pudding. We passed it 
 quietly enough. It is not a French /^e, except in a religious point of view. 
 They keep New Year's Day instead as a day of rejoicing. 
 
 On the 26th the proposed evacuation took place. About forty men went 
 from our two houses, and ten from the Pomme-du-Pin. The journey was a 
 most disastrous one; the poor men were placed in open waggons without 
 
 * Algerians in the French army, a sharpshooter and a cavalryman respectively.
 
 246 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 seats. The snow fell fast, till it was up to their waists. Many died, and dead 
 and living were wedged in side by side. It was sixteen days before they 
 arrived at Stettin. It was found impossible to take them on farther, as 
 originally designed, and they were taken out of the train and placed in 
 hospitals and private houses there. There were about one thousand seven 
 hundred in all. One poor fellow from Ste. Marie, a Turco, who could only 
 speak Arabic, and who had been the amusement of all the patients, slipped 
 in getting out, and, half-frozen as he was, was unable to help himself, fell 
 under the wheels of the carriages, and was crushed to death. 
 
 After tl\is orders were given for no more trai\sport of prisoners in such 
 severe weatlier. This week was cruelly cold. No coal was to be had; it was all 
 kept for gas, as the Germans feared disturbances if the streets were left in the 
 dark at night; but the worst of it was the scarcity of wood. The townspeople 
 could not go out to get it, nor the country people bring it in. Tlie first had no 
 horses, they had all been taken, and the latter dare not run the risk of losing 
 theirs. I paid eighty francs for wood enough for our one small bed room, to 
 last ten days. Provisions, too, were very scarce. The butcher often declared 
 he had no meat; the tradesmen would always, if possible, avoid giving it on 
 requisition. They had to pay ready money for the meat, and wait an 
 uncertain time for repayment. The Germans have enormous appetites, and, 
 of course, helped themselves first, and there was little left for the rest. If I had 
 had money instead of a useless cheque I could have bought many things to 
 eke out the scanty rations; but we had very little gold, and though at this 
 time, through the kindness of Count Bemstorff, I received 30/. in Bank of 
 England notes instead of the Committee's cheque, they were just as useless; I 
 could not get them changed. 
 
 Every day things got scarcer and scarcer. Tobacco could not be had 
 for love or money, and the cold grew worse and worse. We tried our best 
 to keep up the spirits of the men. Dominoes, draughts, cards, and games 
 of different sorts were produced to pass away the weary day, and the 
 chapel services, with their sweet music, were an unfailing source of 
 interest. We heard no news, received no letters. Books and newspapers 
 were strangers to us. Occasionally a visit from some of the English in 
 Orleans enlivened us. To tell the truth, we were all very badly off; yet our 
 little money really seemed to last like the widow's cruise of oil. The men 
 in our own two wards and all the Infirmiers were always well dressed — 
 the 'beaux messieurs,' as they called themselves, of the establishment, and 
 it was a great object to get transferred from the other halls to the Salle 
 Anglaise — the 'Salle St.-George,' as the Sisters had named it. Our lives
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 247 
 
 were certainly very quiet, but not dull. Every day had its new object of 
 interest and anxiety in the matter of clothes and food for our patients. We 
 had such a splendid store that we pretty well supplied all the wards. 
 
 The Sisters were indefatigable; one in especial we must not forget, 
 good Sister St.-Antoine, the head nurse. Every man in the Ambulance 
 loved her rosy, kindly face, and welcomed her with smiles as she trotted 
 into the wards with her basket of materials on her arm, her robe tucked 
 up, and her merry greeting: 'Now then, mes enfants, 1 am ready for you.' 
 She always had two or three pets, usually boys, who became of course the 
 enfants gates of the place, and when remonstrated with on spoiling them as 
 she did with bread and jam, and begging little extras of shirts and tobacco 
 for their special benefit, her reply was, looking sunnier than ever, 'But 
 they are such babies, chere demoiselle, such little babies, and they like it 
 so!' Her German pets were a difficulty; they used to impose upon her in 
 every way, and one young rascal of a trooper declared that he would not 
 go back to Berlin without her, which being translated, she only laughed, 
 and begged me to assure him she meant to come to Berlin some day with 
 the French army, and would be sure to look out for him. 
 
 The most perfect harmony subsisted. We had put the Germans in one 
 of the long halls all together, thinking they would prefer it; but the 
 Hessians and Bavarians refused to sleep in the same room with the 
 Prussians,* so French wounded were mixed with them, and no single 
 quarrel or dispute ever occurred. As for ourselves, the most perfect 
 understanding existed between us and the Sisters. We all worked 
 together, shared hardship and danger alike, and an affection and esteem 
 sprang up which we trust will be life-long. They were so unaffectedly 
 good, so truly religious, and full of faith, and trust, and resignahon, in the 
 darkest days, always cheerful and hopeful amidst all the terrible anxiety 
 as to the fate of their Sisters, scattered over the Department of the Loiret in 
 thirty dependent houses, that we could not help learning to sympathise in 
 their joys and sorrows as if they had been our own and we had really 
 belonged to the Sisterhood of St. Aignan. And one remark more I must 
 make: they were aware we were not members of their Church, but no 
 attempt was ever made to 'convert' us. They saw that we showed every 
 possible respect to their religious observances, that we urged upon the 
 Catholic soldiers the performance of their duties, and they were content to 
 
 * Late in World War I it would still be risking his life for a North German to attend a mass 
 meeting in Bavaria's capital, Munich, so Hitler wrote in Mein Kampf. Vol. 2, Ch. 10.
 
 248 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 accept us as we were, without enquiring narrowly into the differences in 
 our creed. War does away with bigotry. It tries the stuff of which men's 
 religion is made — whether it will bear the test of calmness in danger, 
 cheerfulness in hardship, and self-sacrifice in a great and holy cause. 
 Those qualities once proved, members of all faiths think of each other in a 
 wide and noble spirit of gentle judgment. 'Tliey are not far from the 
 Kingdom of Heaven.'* 
 
 The week passed away quietly and sadly. We heard rumours of a 
 large army under General Chanzy coming down on Orleans by the way of 
 Vendome; again, that Bourbaki was moving rapidly across the Sologne by 
 Tigy and Ferte St.-Aubin, and every hour we expected to hear 'the 
 opening cannons roar.'t We suffered much from cold, not personally, but 
 the wards could not be made warm. An English officer then in Orleans, 
 who had friends at head-quarters, made every effort to get us an order for 
 coals. Prince Frederick Charles gave one, but in vain. The Commandant 
 refused; he dare not do it; he had superior orders from head-quarters at 
 Versailles. We, however, got an additional grant of wood, which, when 
 there was any in Orleans, was of great use. Money got scarcer and scarcer 
 with all of us. The poor Sisters had literally none. One day we saw the 
 Sister who acted as porteress making shoes with serge soles. We 
 remonstrated that on a damp day these soles would be like a sponge. 
 'Very true,' she said; 'but there is no money to buy leather with. The 
 Sisters who wear tliese must stay within doors.' 
 
 We had a great loss, too. Cocotte, the white pony, died of cold and 
 starvation, and we should not have been able to send into the town for the 
 bread and meat, but that, luckily, Pierre, the convent coachman and 
 gardener, had met a man a few days before with a wounded artillery 
 horse. Pierre directly asked the man if he would part with his horse. He 
 answered, 'Yes, for five francs.' The horse was brought home, cured, and 
 took poor Cocotte's place. He was a singular creatvire; he objected to leave 
 the city, except by the road he had entered, and if once he had stopped at 
 a house or shop always insisted on stopping there again. Cocotte was 
 buried in the paddock, and on my announcing the fact to some of the 
 
 * "And the scribe said unto him. Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there is one God; and 
 there is none other but he: And to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and 
 with all the soul, and with all the strength, and to love [his] neighbour as himself, is more than all 
 whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto 
 him. Thou art not far fi-om the kingdom of God. . ." — Mark 12:32-34 
 
 t "It is - it is - the cannon's opening roar!" — Lord Byron's Beppo. Canto HI, Stanza 23.
 
 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 249 
 
 wounded men they exclaimed, 'What a pity it was! He would have 
 stewed down so well with onions!'* 
 
 Matthias, our Bavarian hifirmier, and Paul, a French one, who cirove 
 'M. Cinq-Francs,' as the new black horse was called, were two characters, 
 especially Paul, who by sheer impudence established such friendly 
 relations with the Prussian Commandant de Place, that he got extra 
 rations of everything for the Ambulance. Matthias aided him by praising 
 the kindness shown to the German wounded, and his round, rosy, happy 
 face bore evidence tliat he at least had no cause of complaint. He was a 
 sharp boy, too. On one occasion an order was given for a sack of rice. On 
 presenting it, this precious pair were informed there was no rice, on which 
 Matthias, who could make Paul understand, requested his colleague to 
 inform the grocer that he should take a sack of vermicelli instead, which 
 he did, regardless of the difference in price, and for some days after the 
 whole Ambulance feasted on soup well thickened with vermicelli. 
 
 On the Wednesday in ihe Christmas week we were called downstairs 
 to receive a Hessian general, who announced himself as come to see the 
 English ladies and the Ambulance on the part of Prince Louis.t He went 
 over every part of it, even the kitchen and laundry, spoke to all the 
 
 * During the siege of Metz about 145 horses a day were slaughtered for food. (This luxury soon 
 
 ran out during the seige of Paris, where, after consuming the elephants and other zoo animals, 
 
 people had to eat cats and rats.) Horsemeat. which tastes like lean, slightly sweet beef, has been 
 
 more popular than ever in France since the outbreak of mad cow disease. This recipe for stew is 
 
 from Italy, where it is called Pastissada de Caval: 
 
 2 pounds horsemeat, cut from the rump 2 ounces lard or pork back fat 1 large onion 
 
 1 dozen coriander seeds 1 clove garlic 2 sticks celery 3 carrots 
 
 salt and pepper to taste 4 cloves 1 bay leaf flour 
 
 1/4 cup olive oil 1 bottle fiill-bodied red wine (e.g. Valpolicella) 
 
 1 tablespoon butter kneaded in flour paprika to taste 
 
 Lardoon the meat with the lard and slivers of carrots. Dice the other vegetables and put them with 
 
 the meat and the spices, except the paprika, in a bowl; pour the wine over everything, cover and 
 
 marinate in the refrigerator for three days, turning the meat occasionally. 
 
 Pat the meat dry (reserve the vegetables and the marinade), flour it, and brown it in the oil, in a pot 
 
 over a brisk flame. Add the vegetables, and when they have cooked for a few minutes, pour the 
 
 marinade over the meat. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for about three hours. 
 
 Once the meat is done, remove it to a platter and blend the sauce. Return the sauce to the fire, 
 
 thicken it with the butter-flour ball, and season it to taste with paprika. Pour the sauce over the 
 
 meat and serve. 
 
 t Prince Louis of Hesse-Darmstadt (1837-92) was married to Alice, Queen Victoria's third child. 
 
 The couple were the great-grandparents of Queen Elizabeth Q's husband. Prince Philip. 
 
 Both of the English Princesses married to German nobility ( the Princess Royal and Princess 
 
 Alice) superintended and nursed in various hospitals. — SUM.
 
 250 CONVENT LIFE AT ORLEANS. 
 
 patients, and on lea\'ing turned to the tluee officers who accompanied him 
 and said how delighted he was with everything. He then thanked the 
 Mother Superior and ourselves for the great kindness shown to the 
 German wounded, and said they seemed so very happy and contented, 
 and in bidding us good-bye most courteously added, 'I shall tell the 
 Prince, ladies, and he will be pleased to write to his wife that her 
 countrywomen have the best Ambulance in Orleans.' I mention this here 
 simply to show the kind friends who assisted us that their gifts were not 
 wasted nor their trust misplaced. 
 
 We had a cheerful New Year's Day. I had actually bought a turkey 
 and some good wine, hidden from German eyes in the deep recesses of a 
 wine-merchant's cellar. It was a farewell banquet (?), too, to ovir kind 
 friend Dr. Bertier, who was summoned to rejoin his regiment, and from 
 whom we parted with sincere regret, and with this week we bade 
 farewell, too, to quiet days in our convent life at Orleans.
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 
 On the Tuesday after New Year's Day Dr. Bertier left us. We found it 
 impossible to replace liim by any French surgeon; all those attaclied to 
 Ambulances had vanished one bv one into French lines; the last of all being 
 Dr. Francois, a surgeon of the Ambulance Lyonnaise, who had been left with 
 the wounded at Pomme-du-Pin. The Ambulance had requested permission 
 to return to Lyons. Most of its surgeons belonged to the great Hospital there 
 — La Charite; and their time of leave was up. Tlie German officials, regardless 
 of the fact that Lyons, by way of Bourges, was but a three days' journey, even 
 now, from Orleans, sent them round by Saarbruck arid Basle; an eighteen 
 days' journey, arid even poor Dr. Franqois had to make the same tour to get 
 home. We could find no dvilian doctor. All were too fully occupied, and we 
 were, besides, quite satisfied with Dr. Bock. 
 
 On Wednesday, Prince Frederick Charles left with his head-quarters 
 to meet and, if possible, defeat the army of General Chanzy, which was 
 advancing on Paris by Vendome. The weather was terrible that week and 
 the next, the snow fell heavily, and tlie sufferings of the soldiers on both 
 sides must have been dreadful. Camping out under such circumstances 
 must have been the death of many a brave man whom shot and shell had 
 spared, and as for the wounded, unless foimd and taken off the field at 
 once, there was not a hope for them. They would be hidden in the snow 
 long before they were frozen to death. On the Friday, to our deep regret, 
 Dr. Bock received orders to take charge of tlie Caserne Place d'Etapes, and 
 was superseded by Dr. Kroner, a gentlemanly little German, with whom 
 we all got on perfectly. He did his best for everyone, and was very kind 
 and considerate. So far so good. But the next week we were hastily 
 summoned downstairs one morning and informed that a Civil Inspector 
 and a Physician Inspector had been appointed, and that the Ambulance 
 was to be attached to the 9th corps d'armee; in short, we were to be turned 
 into Germans altogether, and it was darkly hinted that one or both of us 
 would be attached to this new-formed Ambulance for service at the front 
 with the Prussians. 
 
 Louise, the good Mother Superior, Mother St.-Joseph at Ste.-Marie, 
 and myself were all equally determined that we would not be 'required'
 
 252 A SAD NEW YEAR. 
 
 in this way; and whilst I went to get a copy of the safe-conduct which 
 granted the two convents to myself alone, to be used as Ambulances, 
 Louise faced the new 'Ober Arzt,' or head physician. That he had very 
 properly been ordered to do service in the Ambulance was probable - one 
 surgeon was not enough for so many wounded — but that he had any 
 right to take possession of our Ambulance and ourselves was not so clear. 
 Louise found him, as she said, 'bullying everybody! No other words 
 could express it.' He was a Jew of most pronounced type, spoke very bad 
 English and worse French, but fancied himself a splendid scholar in both, 
 and Louise instantly attacked him. 
 
 By the time I arrived as a reinforcement the battle was won. Dr. 
 Kroner was in roars of laughter, the Mother Superior mildly triumphant, 
 and Dr. C— retreating, quoting as he went, in tlie worst of pronunciations, 
 'Rule, Britannia! Britaimia rules the waves,' to which Louise emphatically 
 rejoined, 'Yes; and "Britons never shall be slaves!'" 
 
 It was settled that we should remain as the Ambulance Anglaise, that 
 our two halls should be always reserved for French wounded, and that 
 both parties should render to each other all the assistance in their power. 
 One thing he said to Louise she very soon put down, 'You two women 
 cannot come here and make an Ambulance;' to which she replied, 'That I 
 don't care the least about; we have formed one, and we shall keep it.' But 
 from that day, though Dr. C— was a horrible fidget, he never attempted to 
 interfere. If he only would have spoken German he would have been 
 intelligible; but, no! he would show off his learning, and under the 
 delusion that the louder he spoke the better he should be understood, he 
 roared out the worst compound of European langviages I ever heard, and 
 thereby gained a character for ferocity of which, I do believe, he was 
 utterly undeserving. Our first trouble with the little man was about 
 counterpanes. Tliere were about four green ones in the Salle St.-George to 
 seventeen beds, and nothing would satisfy him but that all the coverlets 
 should be green. Five or six more were found in other halls, and the 
 Inspector discovered some 'couvertures vertes,' or, as he called them, 
 'goufertures fertes,' at the Convent of the Bon Pasteur opposite, after 
 having spent two hours searching for them iii town. He had formed this 
 convent into an Ambulance of his own, for only Germans, and thereby 
 much annoyed the Mother Superior, who could not see why her poor 
 French wounded were sent off to dreary barracks to be replaced by 
 Prussian sick; and when Dr. C— blundered in, and demanded her green 
 coverlets, which had been piled in the entrance-hall, ready for
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 253 
 
 transportation to our establishment, she ordered them to be taken back 
 into the wards, and defied Mm to remove them without her sanction. 
 
 Dr. C— came back considerably crest fallen. 'Mein Himmel!' he groaned 
 to me, 'what for are you Englander so intractable?' for the Mother of the Bon 
 Pasteur was English, too. I advised him to take a civil message from us 
 requesting the loan of the green coimterpanes in exchange for some of our 
 brown ones. It had its due effect, and this mighty affair was arranged after 
 two days' constant worry, during which Dr. C— came and went so often that 
 he gained for himself the name of 'the Wandering Jew,'* wliich he retained to 
 the last. He was at once the plague and the amusement of his subordinates, 
 and Dr. Kroner's assistant, an intelligent German student, was especially 
 delighted with the counterpane affair, and proposed suggesting to 'Le Juif 
 errant' to turf the halls, that the green grass might match the counterpanes. 
 We, however, finding Dr. C— 's weak side was to have everything, as he 
 called it, 'aspect,' placed a bed at one end of the ward, the Salle St. -George, in 
 which was a Frenchman seriously wounded in the arm, the worst arm case, 
 and faced him at the other end with the worst wound in the leg. We dressed 
 all the men who could not leave their beds in scarlet flaniiel jackets, and all 
 who could hobble about in brown cloth ones, and when next Dr. C— arrived 
 he went into a state of ecstasy, exclaiming, 'See now how beautiful! we are 
 aspect now,' and from that day became quite good-tempered and very proud 
 of the Ambulance, which he praised in private and public with an absurd 
 idea — it was all his formation and his management that had attained such 
 brilliant results — an idea at which Dr. Bock and all the medical men who 
 had been in it and seen it, long before Dr. C— left Saarbruck, laughed 
 heartily. 
 
 Three German Infirmiers came to reside in the house; they were very 
 good-nattired and very idle. They went round the wards with the doctor in 
 the morning to take down names for evacuation; the Germans to rqoin their 
 regiments — a process they particularly objected to (and no wonder in such 
 weather) — and the French ready for the next transport of prisoners to 
 Gennany. They ate and drank and smoked, required the best of food and 
 wine, and were particular as to having coffee, good bread, and honey at three 
 P.M., to sustain fainting nature between dinner at twelve and supper at six. 
 
 * According to the Chronicle of St. Alban's Abbey (122%), n porter struck Jesus as he was carrying 
 his cross, saying "go faster," and was answered, "I ann going, but thou shall tarry till I come again" 
 (words which echo those Jesus addressed to a disciple, according to John 21:3). The Chronicle 
 adds that the porter falls into a trance at the end of every hundred years and wakes up a young man 
 of thirty. In Germany the Wandering Jew is associated with John Buttadaeus (meaning hit God), 
 seen at Antwerp in the thirteenth century, again in the fifteenth, and a third time in the sixteenth. 
 His last appearance was in 1774 at Brussels.
 
 254 A SAD NEW YEAR. 
 
 Tliey li\'ed a great deal better than any of us, and had far less to do; and they 
 had each a sc:»ldier ser\'ant to wait upon them and clean their boots. They 
 were not above begging, though, aiid whenever they saw me bringing down 
 socks and shirts for the wounded asked for some for themselves, and I 
 sometimes complied with the request, as I found that, whenever I did so, the 
 result was a distribution of cigars, good wine, fresh eggs, and stewed prunes 
 to the French wounded. Tliese stores were sent in by the German 
 Intendance* for \he use of the Germai-is; but we kept the Infirmiers in good 
 temper by giving them all we could and asking them to do noticing, and by 
 this means procured a few extra luxuries for our poor Frenchmen. On the 
 whole, we had no complaint whatever to make of them. They were quiet, 
 respectful, and never interfered with us; very stem with their own men, but 
 did not order the French about; and when they left, after the peace, spoke 
 most higlily of tlie way in which they had been treated at St. Marc. 
 
 Dr. C — insisted on having twenty more beds, and the good Mother 
 Superior gave up the pretty private chapel of the community, which was on 
 the floor above the public chapel, and it was devoted entirely to German 
 wounded. It was a sad pity to dismantle it altogether, and the cost of 
 restoring it to its original condition will be considerable. The Altar was left. 
 The German Infirmiers enforced upon all comers the necessity of not in any 
 way profaning it, and, moreover. Dr. C— ordered that no man should arise 
 and walk about the room till after the seven o'clock Mass below was over, 
 and during Vespers that they should sit quiet and make no noise by singing 
 or talking, and so great is German discipline that the orders once given 
 were never infringed. There were not beds, mattresses, and sheets enough 
 for so many extra men, and Dr. C— sent in an application to the Knights of 
 St. John, who had immense stores in the railway station. 
 
 It has been said that the English money, so much of which was given to 
 the Knights of St. John, was equally distributed by them bet\\'een Germans 
 and French. It was not so; nor could it be expected. The 'Johanitter Ritter' 
 are the great Hospitaller Order of Prussia. They are attaclned in that 
 capacity to the German army. They do not profess to be neutral or 
 international. Nothing could be had from tlieir stores in Orleans unless 
 upon the order of a German physician, countersigned by Count Stolberg, 
 one of their chiefs, and this was not given, naturally, to any Ambulances 
 that had not a German head, and was given for the use of the German 
 wounded. t 
 
 * Quartermaster (military supply system). 
 
 t The Knights also gave clothing, food, wine and cigars to the fighting men. — SUM
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 255 
 
 We were English; we had brought our owr\ stores; we always gave to 
 the Germans if, as it very rarely happened, they were not supplied from 
 their own ample resources; and Dr. C— told us to take all he got and use it 
 indifferently. But that was his personal kindness, not official orders. Our 
 Civil Inspector was a very good-natured man, whom we called Bon-bon;* 
 first, because we never got comfortably at his unpronounceable German 
 name, and secondly, because he was quartered at a celebrated bon-bon 
 shop, where he distinguished himself by his quiet, regular habits and his 
 kind, cheerful manner. His entertainers were violently French, and never 
 attempted to conceal their feelings; but Herr Bon-bon took it all in good 
 part, lived on terms of the greatest friendship with the whole family, 
 breakfasting and dining with them every day, and when he departed was 
 universally respected and lamented. 
 
 Whether it was that we were peculiarly fortunate in the officers we 
 had to deal with, or whether it was the fact of our neutrality, I caiinot 
 say, but from all, with very few exceptions — one at Balan, one at 
 Versailles, and one at Orleans — we received the greatest courtesy and 
 kindness. Still, we were more quiet before Dr. C— arrived. His little 
 worrying ways annoyed us, and we felt, besides, how heavy a burden 
 was the support of his staff on the already impoverished resources of the 
 Sisters. At St. Marc lived one doctor and three or four clerks, with us 
 three Infirmiers and three servants, and they could not, or would not, 
 rough it as we did. Besides, men were sent in only fatigued and foot- 
 sore, not wounded or really sick, and, being continually changed, 
 imposed much additional labour and expense. The Sisters would never 
 allow the sheets to be used a second time. This may seem an 
 urmecessary piece of dandyism; but it was only a part of a system of 
 exquisite cleanliness to which must be attributed the fact that we never 
 had an epidemic in the Ambulance of St. Marc, and our death-rate was 
 far the lowest in Orleans — not four per cent. 
 
 Every Saturday the wards and corridors were well scrubbed down. 
 Sister St.-Antoine led the charge at the head of a band of French 
 Infirmiers, and the Germans, whose habits are of the dirtiest kind, looked 
 on in wonder at the buckets of water thrown about, at the displacement of 
 every bed and table, and at the carbolic acid mixed with the water. We 
 had taken out carbolic acid in crystals; these were dissolved and mixed 
 with water. Each bottle made twenty-five quart bottles strong enough for 
 
 * Sweet (US: Candy).
 
 256 A SAD NEW YEAR. 
 
 the dressings, and we used it much diluted to wash down the floors.* 
 Every fever case was placed, as soon as discovered, in a separate building. 
 Every case of wounds bad enough to be unpleasant was placed apart, and 
 there was no Ambulance smell in the house. The patients were never left, 
 day or night. They had regular meals, and nothing between, except by 
 special order, and then only a little good wine or a slice of bread and 
 preserve. The Germaiis had news papers. No French ones were allowed in 
 Orleans, and we supplied the French with books, most kindly lent, without 
 fee or reward, from the library of M. and Madame Blanchard, Rue Banniere. 
 In all ways the citizens rendered us every possible assistance, furnishing us 
 with many things concealed from German eyes, and we only regretted that 
 our poverty prevented us availing ourselves more largely of their kindness, 
 for rations often ran very short. We had about 500 men to feed, and that is 
 no trifle with such a scarcity of provisions as existed. 
 
 But the French were so grateful and good tempered. 'What can we ask 
 more?' they said. 'We have all you have. We have a good roof over our 
 heads, good beds, clean shirts, kind words. What matter weak soup and 
 small pieces of meat? we are happy here.'t The Germans grumbled, and I 
 had a process of reasoning to go through to convince them that out of 
 nothing comes nothing; no bullocks, no beef; no flour, no bread; that we all 
 fared alike, aiid we ought to be thankful we were not out in the snow, like 
 the other poor creatures. After which exertion of eloquence they usually 
 agreed in my view of the case. Indeed, in no single instance had we to 
 complain of the conduct of any one of them. Once one of the German 
 servants got very tipsy and fell down in the garden, but the head Infirmier 
 came and kicked him so dreadfully, telling him he disgraced his great 
 nation before the English ladies, tliat I should say he never did it again. 
 
 No difficulties ever arose as regarded difference of religious opinion, 
 though we literally had in the Ambulance Jews, Turks, heretics, and infidels 
 — the Turcos being Mahometans, and, sad to say, many of the Germans utter 
 unbelievers, while two of the officials were Jews. The Mother Superior 
 
 Many soldiers' lives were saved by these antiseptic methods introduced by the British surgeon 
 Joseph Lister (1827-1912). When, in 1865, Louis Pasteur suggested that decay was caused by 
 living organisms in the air. Lister made the connection that airborne microbes were probably 
 causing putrefaction in wounds, and had to be destroyed before they entered. Lister had heard that 
 in Carlisle carbolic acid was being used to treat sewage, and that fields fertilised with the effluent 
 were freed of a parasite causing disease in cattle. Lister therefore began to clean wounds and dress 
 them using a solution of carbolic acid. 
 
 t The authors claim that the constitutions and habits differed so much that the wine, beef and beer 
 necessary to sustain a German patient would trigger a fever in a French one, for whom it was 
 sufficient to provide weak potage, vin ordinaire, and beef stewed to rags with vegetables. — SUM
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 257 
 
 herself offered every facility if a Protestant cliaplain were appointed for the 
 Prussians; and no objection whatever would have been made to his holding a 
 service in the Salle Jeanne d' Arc, which was entirely for the Germans. One 
 did come, saw and conversed with the Protestants, and indeed went over the 
 Ambulance. He paid a second visit, but that was all; and on my asking Herr 
 Bon-bon why he did not come agaiii, the Herr replied that \he men did not 
 care to have him tliere; when they were well enough they went to service by 
 order on Sunday morning, but it was holiday when they were in Hospital. A 
 Prussian Commandant on one occasion asked one of tlie Sisters who had 
 gone with an Infirmier to get some requisition order signed, 'Do you try to 
 convert the Protestants? Do you treat them just as you do the Catholics? 
 'Certainly,' she aiiswered. 'Catholic or Protestant, they must eat, poor 
 creatures; their religion is no business of mine. I do tlie cooking, not the 
 conversions!' But it was an extraordinary fact, that if ever there was any extra 
 business, such as evacuating men, changing them from one ward to another, 
 or making any fresh arrangements, it was always on a Sunday morning; so 
 that it became a common saying amongst us, 'Tlie pious Kiiig may look after 
 his own soul; he does not give anybody else time to look after theirs.' And I 
 must say that the needless work thus imposed upon all on the Sunday, the 
 utter want of regard shewed for the day, set a very bad example to Catholics 
 and Protestants alike, and certainly gave the French an odd idea of the 
 Protestant religion. Nor was it caused by the fact of a Jew being chief with us, 
 for the orders came from the General in command as regarded the 
 evacuation of prisoners; and he cotild certainly have issued a general order, 
 or caused the Physician-in-chief to do so, that in large Ambulances, where 
 there were forty or fifty Protestants, service should be performed for them on 
 Sunday, and some respect for the sacred day enforced. But in this, as in 
 many other thitigs, we found Prussian piety a very 'whited sepulchre.'* 
 
 That second week of January was indeed a dreary one. Every day distant 
 sounds of cannonade were heard and prisoners arrived, taken in the battles 
 which resulted in \he occupation of Le Mans by the Germaiis.t On one of 
 
 * "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which 
 indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness." 
 
 — Matthew 23:7. 
 
 t A well-trained Prussian army under Prince Fredrick Charles moved against General Chanzy at 
 Le Mans, 117 miles southwest of the siege of Paris, early in 1871. Although the French had many 
 more men, they were no match for the Prussians. In a three-day battle beginning on 10 January, 
 the German regulars inflicted 10,000 casualties and virtually destroyed the French army as an 
 effective fighting unit. General Bourbaki attempted suicide after his exhausted troops were 
 routed. Now, except for the Paris garrison, only one patriot force, in northern France, remained to 
 contest the Prussian armies of occupation.
 
 258 A SAD NEW YEAR. 
 
 these days an order was received for one thousand coffins for the use of the 
 Prussian army, aiid I myself several times saw upwards of twenty large 
 waggons in a line full of wounded, coming through the streets. The snow lay 
 thick on the ground, a dense frost fog filled the air. Wood and provisions 
 were scarcer than ever. Tlie Prussians prevented all ingress to or egress from 
 the towns. They had an idea that Bourbaki's army was coming on, and 
 several times we were told of the French Lancers being seen only three or 
 four miles from the bridge over the Loire. Had the French come, there was 
 not force enough to resist them, for even before the departure of Prince 
 Frederick Charles the Germans were by no means easy as to their position. 
 
 So far back as New Year's Eve an alarm was given, which showed 
 their consciousness of the likelihood of a surprise. At midnight the 
 soldiers began to fire off their rifles, to salute the New Year. The Prince 
 and his staff were carousing at the Prefecture, and hearing the sound, 
 which indeed was exactly like the firing of the outposts when an attack 
 commences, they decided that it must be the French, and hasty orders 
 were given to saddle the horses. An enquiry, however, proved that it was 
 only their own men; but we ascertained afterwards, in various places 
 where the soldiers were quartered, that so deep were the potations tliey 
 drank that night in honour of the New Year and 'Vaterland,' that 
 Bourbaki would have had a walk over the course 'if he had dashed in 
 with some thirty thousand determined men.'l: 
 
 It was a very sad sight to see prisoners brought in. On the Thursday of 
 that week there came through the Rue Banniere a strange procession — old 
 men and women, little children, carried in their mothers' arms, or toddling, 
 wondering, by their sides, a priest in his soutane, a lady well dressed leading 
 a child, several gentlemen, many artisans, labourers and domestic servants, 
 male and female. Weary, foot-sore, half frozen, they had walked over twenty 
 miles in the snow, their guards on either side urging them forward, and even 
 in the street, as they lingered, lookiiig wildly around for help or pity, blows 
 and harsh words roused them to stuinble on a little faster. The poor lady, her 
 rich black silk dress all draggled with mud, stopped to soothe her little 
 daughter, who was crying with cold arid pain, aiid a German guard roughly 
 ordered her 'Vorwarts!' A murmur of disgust rose from the bystanders, and 
 a Hessian officer who was looking at the scene from a balcony rushed down 
 into the street, put the soldier aside, and offering the lady his arm led her into 
 his own rooms. 'They are prisoners!' shouted the Captain of the gviard.' '/ 
 
 ? The walkover would presumably follow the dashing in. The allusion was probably intended to 
 be to a character in Sir Walter Scott's A Legend of Montrose, "who found himself at the head of 
 three thousand determined men."
 
 A SAD NEW YEAR. 259 
 
 will be responsible for them,' was the brave young fellow's reply; you will 
 find them here, in my care.' 
 
 Several old German officers standing by applauded his conduct. 
 'Mein Gott!' said one, 'what have these poor people done?' a question 
 echoed around. It appeared that they were all the remaining inhabitants 
 of a village where opposition had been offered to the advance of the 
 troops, probably successful opposition; for this was sure to draw down 
 summary punishment on such audacity. Tliese poor people were 
 therefore brought prisoners into Orleans, to be sent to Germany; but we 
 heard that the feeling of the higher officials was so much against the 
 proceedings of the Colonel by whose orders the atrocity was committed, 
 that they were shortly afterwards released. It was surely enough to have 
 their homes entirely destroyed, to lose everything they had in the world, 
 to be houseless in such cruel weather. Whatever lesson was needed by 
 upstart little villages that tried to bar the invaders' way, utter ruin might 
 seem sufficient to teach non-combatants the doctrine of non-resistance. It 
 is a splendid thing to fight for 'Vaterland,' it is a noble deed to keep 'Die 
 Wacht am Rhein,' to guard that sacred stream against all foreign foes; but 
 it is an act pvmishable with death in those who take up arms to watch 
 beside the Loire — death to themselves, destruction to tlieir homes. Blot 
 out that daring town or village from the map of France, burn down every 
 humble homestead, bring out the petroleum* casks to do the work more 
 svirely, drive old and young, weak women, little children, the priests of 
 God and the helpless ones of their flock, through twenty miles of deep 
 snow, at the bayonet's point, and then sit round the blazing fires piled 
 high up with the remains of costly chairs and choice furnih-ire, and sing 
 'Die Wacht am Rhein! When next English men and women hear that 
 song, let them remember scenes like this, and ask, What is German 
 consistency, and what her laws of war? 
 
 * At this period petroleum was mainly used for lighting and heating. It was not until 1942 that 
 Harvard University scientists and the U.S. army chemical warfare service found that mixing 
 gasoline with napthenic and palmitic acids (hence na-palm) produced a sticky syrup that burned 
 slowly, and hence was much more effective in burning people and other targets.
 
 260 PEACE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 As the hope of relief from the arrival of the French grew fainter and 
 fainter, the distress all around deepened; the inhabitants of the Faubourg 
 Olivet, just across the river, were driven out of their houses, which were 
 required to be pulled down for the fortifications being constructed there, 
 to prevent any sudden surprise by the French. There were large fruit 
 gardens and orchards in this suburb the trees of which were cut down for 
 firewood and military purposes, and the loss amounted to a couple of 
 million of francs. Botli bridges were miiied afresh, and rumours were 
 abroad every day that they were positively to be blown up that very 
 afternoon. The reports brought in by stray villagers, who occasionally got 
 through the lines, ostensibly for the purpose of bringing fowls and 
 vegetables for the hotels where were Prussian generals, spoke of the 
 defeat of Chanzy's army and the march of Bourbaki into Germany. If so, 
 he certainly was not coming our way, and Orleans was to be left in the 
 hands of her conquerors. 
 
 On Thursday, the 12th, I was crossing the Place Martroi, laden with 
 oranges and biscuits for the Ambulance, when I was stopped by the 
 passing of a crowd of French prisoners, some 1,500 in number. A scuffle 
 took place just at the entrance of the Rue Bamiiere. A girl, looking out at a 
 shop-door, recognised her brother in that miserable crowd, and darting 
 out threw herself into his arms. The surprise was too much for the poor 
 lad, worn out with his march from near Le Mans, and he fainted on the 
 pavement. The guard kicked him to, make him get up, the crowd of 
 lookers-on interfered, and an officer passing on horseback struck the 
 brutal sentinel with his sword. The prisoner was carried into the shop, 
 and probably transferred to an Ambulance, as he was evidently much too 
 ill to go farther. 
 
 As I was turning away to return home, I caught the words, 
 'Ambulance Anglaise! allez tout de suite.'* I stopped and saw several 
 women, one of whom had a slip of paper in her hand, crowding round a 
 
 "Go right away to the English Ambulance!'
 
 PEACE. 261 
 
 Stall on which were butter, allumettes,* and biscuits. 'Did you want the 
 Ambulance Anglaise?' I asked. 'Do you know where it is?' 'Yes,' said one 
 woman; 'do you want to know? It is in the Faubourg St.-Marc' 'Thank 
 you, 'I answered; 'but I live there. Is there anytliing I can do?' One 
 woman seemed inclined to speak, the others checked her, thanked me, but 
 said it was 'nothing.' 
 
 An hour or two after I reached home, one of the Sisters came up to 
 our room with the Mother Superior, and showed a little note which had 
 been brought by a stranger woman. During the passing of the prisoners 
 up the Rue Banniere, this woman said, there had been a stop, owing to a 
 confusion on the other side, and one of the prisoners had taken 
 advantage of this to scribble half a dozen words on the leaf of his pocket- 
 book. Calling to the woman, who kept the stall at the corner, he begged 
 them to take it to his aunt, at the Ambulance Anglaise, directly. This was 
 the mystery I had come upon, and it was most unfortunate that the 
 woman was prevented telling me, for thus valuable time was lost. The 
 note was to the Mother Superior, from her nephew; he was amongst the 
 prisoners, very ill, and about to be sent to Germany. He begged her to 
 find him out, and to get leave for him to remain in Orleans as a prisoner. 
 First, where to find this poor boy? Had I known of it when I was in the 
 Rue Banniere, I should have followed the troop of captives, and watched 
 into which churches they were put. Three churches were full of them, I 
 knew — St.—Paterne, St.-Laurent, and St.-Paul — and probably others; but 
 now it was dark, and the difficulty would be great. We must get an order 
 from some chief to enable us to reclaim this poor boy. We remembered 
 then the kind message of Prince Louis of Hesse, to apply to him in any 
 case of difficulty. Cinq Francs was harnessed to the cart, and Louise being 
 ill in bed with rheumatism, I started with La Mere Tlierese to the Prince's 
 head quarters on the Quai Cypierre. 
 
 We arrived. All was so lonely and quiet, I feared the Prince was 
 absent; but the porter, a civil old Frenchman, said he was at dinner. I told 
 him I had a note I much wished the Prince to get, and also to have a word 
 of answer; but of course I would wait to send it in till he had dined. 'My 
 orders are,' said the porter, 'to take to the Prince himself every letter as 
 soon as it arrives. Ah heavens! how good and kind he is. No stealing 
 
 * Matches. The most popular matches in 1870 were lucifers, lighted by being struck against any 
 rough surface. They were sold by children (like Hans Andersen's Little Match Girl) on the street 
 for a halfpenny a box. .They stank when burning because they contained sulphur. The other 
 ingredient, phosphorus, made the women and children who manufactured them glow in the dark, 
 before it eventually killed them,.
 
 262 PEACE. 
 
 here, no breaking up furniture; all quiet and respectable, like himself. But 
 then he has an English Princess for his wife. Madame is of that country. 
 Ah, he will be delighted!!' And off he trotted. We had not waited a 
 moment, as it seemed, before an Aide-de-camp came out, his dinner 
 napkin in his hand, and most courteously led us into the salon behind the 
 dining-room, which, apparently, was the Prince's bed-room. His sword 
 was hanging up, and some few coats and cloaks were lying about, a bright 
 fire blazing, writing materials scattered about tine table, and a large map 
 open and thrown over a chair; but we remarked how neat and clean 
 everything was, and, though the dining-room was only just beyond the 
 folding-doors, how quiet; not the loud noise and shouting usually to be 
 heard where Germaiis are congregated together. All bore the stamp of an 
 orderly and gentlemanly establishment. 
 
 As we were looking round us and admiring the simplicity of the 
 quarters, the door opened, and a fair, tall, pleasant-looking man came in, 
 dressed in a plain dark blue uniform coat, with only the Iron Cross 
 hanging from the button-hole. It was indeed Prince Louis. I apologised 
 for thus disturbing his dinner, to which he replied he had quite finished, 
 and we then discussed the business which had brought us there, and 
 which I had explained in my note. Tlie Prince took the kindest interest in 
 the case; he said he only regretted these prisoners belonged to Prince 
 Frederick Charles, so that he had no power. Had they been his, he would 
 have given the order directly consigning the lad to our guardianship, 
 especially as he was not a regular soldier, had not even volunteered, but 
 had been drawn three months before in the levy. We thanked him, and 
 regretted it, too, and were about to leave, when he said, 'Stay; let me see. I 
 will tell you what I think will do. Go to the Chief Inspector of your 
 Ambulance, and ask him to claim this young man as Infirmier. Tell him 
 Prince Louis of Hesse advised you to do this, and I think, but I am not 
 sure, that this will answer.' He then added, 'Do you know I passed you in 
 the street the other day and bowed to you, but you did not see me?' I 
 replied that really I had not recognised His Highness. To which he 
 answered, 'No, of course not; but I recognised you. I saw you before at 
 Ste.-Marie-aux-Chenes. You had another lady with you; she had a grey 
 hat like yours' (touching the brim of the one I wore). 'It is an English hat; I 
 have seen my wife wear one.' After receiving a few more kindly 
 assurances of his desire to assist us we took our leave, and la Mere 
 Therese was full of delight at the Prince's cordial, cheerful way of 
 speaking and the graceful simplicity of his manner. 'He is good,' she said 
 emphatically, 'and he looks so.' The Queen ought to be very proud and
 
 PEACE. 263 
 
 pleased of the golden opinions won by her two German sons-in-law, in 
 the midst of a savage war, and in the heart of an invaded country. Most 
 fully were they at least acquitted from any share in, or even any 
 knowledge of, the hardships and cruelties inflicted on the miserable 
 people by some of their subordinates. Both the Prince Imperiale of 
 Germany and Prince Louis of Hesse bore the highest character, and were 
 welcomed in the towns they entered as protectors rather than oppressors. 
 If the enemy must occupy a city, it was well, the poor inhabitants thought, 
 tliat their chiefs should be brave and good men, who would deal justly 
 with them, and who had the will and the power to prevent unauthorised 
 acts of plunder and wrong, and the laurels of the two Princes are the 
 proudest of all, for they are untarnished by the acts that too often 
 disgraced the victors at this sad time. 
 
 When we left the Prince it was far too late to find our Inspector. We 
 called, but he was out, where no one knew, and it was only in early 
 morning that the Mere sallied out again to find him. Then it was too late. 
 The prisoners had started at daybreak on their way, but the poor lad did 
 not long remain a prisoner, for, as we know, seven weeks after came the 
 peace. 
 
 There was a large evacuation of French in the following week. We 
 were very grieved to part with our men, but the weather was better, and 
 no man was sent away who was really unfit to travel. Even rheumatism 
 was accepted as an excuse, and several men went to bed and groaned 
 piteously. One of them, when Dr. Kroner asked him if he was able to 
 travel, said, 'Oh no; he was very ill with rheumatism.' 'Where?' asked the 
 doctor. 'In my stomach, monsieur,' answered the pattent. 'My friend,' 
 said Dr. Kroner, ' if you had said anywhere else I would have believed 
 you; but it is impossible to accept this. Really you must go.' The poor 
 fellow had to get up and go, amidst the laughter of his companions, who 
 called him 'pig' and 'wooden-head,' for not having 'put his rheumatism 
 into his knees.' It was a sad sight to see the men who had been nursed 
 and petted in warm, comfortable wards drawn up in line in the long 
 corridor, with their knapsacks on their backs, ready to march away. Every 
 man sent from the Convent was duly provided with a flannel shirt and 
 belt and a warm undervest, a good wrapper round his throat, and a thick 
 pair of socks, a large loaf of bread, and a flask of wine and water. No men, 
 it was said, were turned out so well as ours. Their coats and trousers had 
 all been washed and repaired, their boots mended, their belts and buckles 
 cleaned, and they presented a neat, smart appearance, very different from 
 the poor fellows who had been in the military hospitals.
 
 264 PEACE. 
 
 The French Intendance had quite broken down; no attention was ever 
 paid to the soldiers in Ambulance. On the contrary, the very morning 
 after a German came in, the chief clerk, 'Schwarzer Johann,' as he was 
 called, from his black beard and gruff voice, came round and looked at 
 every article of the man's dress, examining the soles of his boots and the 
 buckles of his straps. Anything lost or worn out was replaced, ready by 
 the time he left, so that he went out, as it were, repaired in health and 
 equipment. The French had notliing but what we gave them, and the 
 Sisters w^orked hard to patch their well-worn clothes. We had many little 
 things to buy, buttons, buckles, tapes, and various odds and ends, and all 
 trenched* on our diminisliing stock of gold, whilst we received daily 
 appeals for assistance to the poor, who were actvially starving. We wrote a 
 letter which was published in tlie 'Times,' and the kind response to the 
 appeal for help enabled us, as soon as the peace was declared, to gladden 
 many a heart. 
 
 Day after day passed on, and at last we heard that Paris had 
 capitulated, t and an armistice was arranged. After the first burst of anger 
 and despair at the surrender of the capital, it was a relief to all to breathe 
 tranquilly, as it were, for a time; but the relief came too late to heal one 
 broken heart, that of M. Pereira, the Prefet of the Loiret. Despairing of 
 being able to alleviate the sufferings of the population from the ravages of 
 war, he fell into a bad state of health, and indeed it was this which saved 
 him from being sent prisoner into Germany. He was a marked man, from 
 his proclamations and speeches, in which he had always encouraged the 
 sternest resistance to the invader. He was detained a prisoner in his own 
 house in Orleans, but, contrary to the report in the city, he was not treated 
 with harshness, and was attended by one of the first German physicians 
 with all possible care and skill. 
 
 His funeral was a most imposing sight. The Mass for the dead was 
 celebrated in the Cathedral, the Bishop officiating. So tmiverally respected 
 and beloved was M. Pereira, that when the coffin was taken out and 
 placed in the open hearse prepared to receive it, it was followed to the 
 cemetery by more than 3,000 of his fellow-citizens, nobles, gentlemen. 
 
 * Cut into. 
 
 t By mid-January French resistance in the provinces had been crushed. With only an eight-day 
 supply of food remaining in the city, Paris surrendered on 28 January 1871. The siege had cost 
 the French over 28,450 military casualties, of whom less than 4,000 were killed. The provisional 
 government accepted peace terms on 1 March. 
 
 Wilhelm 1 had been proclaimed Emperor of Germany on 18 January, in the Hall of Mirrors at 
 Versailles.
 
 PEACE. 265 
 
 bovirgeois, and artisans, all in mourning. As the coffin was carried out of 
 the Cathedral a German band was playing on the Place Ste.-Croix for the 
 parade of some troops, but when it appeared. Prince Louis of Hesse 
 ordered the music to cease, whilst himself and his staff stood bareheaded 
 as the cortege passed down the Rue Jeanne d' Arc, amidst the mourning of 
 all around; but there were many who felt as we did, that it was in mercy 
 the dead man had been taken, that God Himself in His infinite love had 
 broken the chain and set the prisoner free. 
 
 We had seen the good Bishop several times during this sad month. 
 Though no longer a prisoner, his Palace was occupied as quarters by a 
 Prussian General, and he himself had but two or three small rooms in 
 which to live. Even his kitchen was taken possession of by the General's 
 cooks, and his meals were prepared in a smaller one. On one occasion a 
 German valet saw the Bishop's dinner-tray ready prepared to be taken to 
 him. There was a basin of soup, a little roast bird, and a decanter of 
 Bordeaux. 'Stop!' he cried to the Bishop's servant; TU take that. My 
 master has just come in, and is hungry; it will be a nice refreshment before 
 his dinner;' and he actually walked off with it, tlie servant not daring to 
 interfere. But the noble old Bishop bore all his sorrows and annoyances so 
 gently, so patiently, so uncomplainingly, that even his oppressors learned 
 to be ashamed of themselves, and owned that to be unkind to such a man 
 was a hard service. Of one thing he could not complain, and that was any 
 inequality in the disrespect with which religious edifices were treated; for 
 if the Cathedral and churches had been made into prisons, the Protestant 
 'Temple,' as it was called, had been turned into a Bavarian barrack. When 
 we told the Bishop of this he looked sadder than ever, but simply said, 
 'What do these men respect? not even their own faith!' 
 
 The armistice was truly a relief to all, not that it made any difference 
 with the Germans, except that there was no fighting. We had an old- 
 fashioned idea, and so had several military friends, that during an 
 armistice all things remained in statu qiw* but now troops were moved in 
 all directions, prisoners were sent off to Germany, and heavy requisihons 
 made as before it began. We exchaiiged some prisoners; about fifteen 
 French out of our houses were sent to Vierzon, the first French post, to 
 form part of the number exchanged for Bavarian and Prussian prisoners at 
 Pau. But on the French side the management was infamous. The poor 
 fellows arrived at Vierzon, to wait for military passes to rejoin their 
 depots; and there they were, no one to receive them, houseless and 
 
 ' In statu quo (ante) = in the same state (as before).
 
 266 PEACE. 
 
 dinnerless, sleeping in barns and stables, and begging their daily bread, 
 for several days, till at last they were sent on to their depots. Several of 
 our men refused to go under such conditions and preferred taking their 
 chance of peace setting them free. 
 
 After the surrender of Paris the corps d'armee of the Prince Imperiale 
 came to Orleans, ready to be sent on to the front if the war continued. The 
 entrance was a sad sight for the Orleanais: for an hour and a half regiment 
 after regiment poured down the street, amidst the triumphant music of 
 their bands. There always was an idea that the Germans magnified their 
 force, by marching tlieir men out of one faubourg and in by another, and 
 really we half believed that they had done so on this occasion, for there 
 was a strange similarity between some of those who passed first and some 
 who came last. The people stood by in stern silence, but oaths of 
 vengeance were sworn that day which may yet have a dark fulfilment. 
 'Dogs! canaille!'* were the muttered words around. 'See if we spare old or 
 young, woman or child, when we ride through Berlin.' Many wept bitter 
 tears, and surely in this hour of, at all events, temporary peace, this public 
 entry was an unnecessary addition to their humiliation. 
 
 Some of the new Generals, too, gave themselves great airs. One day 
 we heard that two of our Infirmiers, Zouaves, had been arrested for not 
 saluting a certain gallant General, who shall be nameless, as he rode down 
 the Rue Jeanne d'Arc. We started off directly to the city, found our two 
 friends prisoners for twenty-four hours in the Mairie, and looking 
 piteously out of an attic window. From the third Infirmier, who was with 
 them (not a Zouave), we heard that really they had not seen the great 
 gentleman, and also they did not know they were compelled to salute 
 him, as they themselves were all sons-officiers, and the German privates 
 did not salute them. On enquiry of the Commandant de Place it appeared 
 tliat the General had been hissed on the Quai du Chatelet by some 
 Zouaves, and he had resolved not only to arrest them, but also every 
 Zouave whom he could catch. The affair made a great deal of excitement 
 and ill feeling, and as the Commandant's secretary told me that an order 
 from the General would obtain their release, I resolved to ask him for one. 
 He was out. I waited an hour. On his arrival he went to his own room, 
 and an aide de-camp asked me my business. I explained; said that my 
 Infirmiers begged to apologise, would not do so any more, had not seen 
 the illustrious General, and were absolutely required for the service of the 
 wards that night. He quite agreed, went in and spoke to the General, and 
 
 Crooks.
 
 PEACE. 267 
 
 coming back requested me to go in myself to see him. Of that interview 
 tlie less said the better. There was champagne on the table, and the 
 General was very red in the face. He told me I might have two of his 
 servants, and if they did not do the work properly, I might flog them! In 
 short, he refused to release the men, and I left utterly disgusted with his 
 conduct. They were released next day; but I should advise any office to 
 decline taking an insurance on that General's life when next he meets the 
 Third Zouaves, and I really must say he would be no loss to the German 
 army. 
 
 The armistice drew to its end, and there was no certain news of peace. 
 On the morning of Sunday, 26th February, the 'Wandering Jew' arrived, 
 and ordered every Frenchman in the Ambulance to be ready to leave at 
 three P.M. We found the Infirmiers were included, and Dr. Kroner 
 declared they should not and could not go. We should still have fifty sick 
 and womided left, and not a man to do the service of the wards; besides, 
 several of them held Prussian commissions as Infirmiers, and clearly had 
 no right to be sent away as prisoners. All we could obtain, however, was 
 that a list of ten should be taken, that the men named on it might be 
 returned. Dr. Kroner was very vexed; but Dr. C— was imperative. Dinner 
 was ordered for noon precisely, but it had hardly been served up before 
 orders came for every man except the Infirmiers to go in marching order* 
 to Ste. Marie. We hurried them off, and went with them ourselves. 
 Arrived there. Dr. C— asked, 'Where are the Infirmiers? They must come, 
 too.' Dr. Kroner said to me, ' Send them over; it is only to take down their 
 names.' I ran back and sent them. Tlien came fresh orders. They were to 
 go with the rest to the Bureau of the Commandant de Place; they must 
 have their cloaks and knapsacks. We all ran about to collect them, and a 
 most amusing scene it was to see the Sisters struggling across the garden, 
 one with a knapsack, another with a great coat, another with a bundle. 
 
 About three all were assembled; the names of the Infirmiers were 
 taken down, and Dr. Kroner sent back every man he covild on any excuse. 
 I asked him what all this was for, and he told me the armistice ended at 
 midnight. There were no tidings of peace, and a long train of prisoners 
 was to start next day unless fresh news came; but what grieved him was 
 that, the men were to be put in the Church of St. Euverte. This was the 
 church which the Anglo-Americans had occupied. As predicted, both 
 ventilation and means of warming it were deficient. The cold was intense, 
 and the mortality very large. They had been obliged to evacuate it, by 
 
 * Carrying a rifle, bayonet, ammunition, haversack, blanket roll.water bottle and mess kit.
 
 268 PEACE. 
 
 order, and it had been pronounced terribly infected. Some prisoners had 
 been put in, and several had been seized with fever. It was infested with 
 vermin, which had made their appearance after the Ambulance left, and 
 the whole place was in a filthy state — most unfit for quarters for men 
 fresh out of hospital. But there was no help for it, and our hearts were 
 very heavy as we saw patients and Infirmiers ranged in line, ready to 
 start. Everyone had something to say. We had shared their joys and 
 sorrows, had watched by their bedsides, and heard their tales of home. 
 We had looked over their games of dominoes and ecarte,* and 
 sympathised in their want of news and short commons,! and they had 
 given us all the help they could; some by content and patience in most 
 trying circumstances, some by active service. They were friends now, each 
 with his own individuality. 
 
 It was very sad to bid them thus good-bye, for ever, most probably; 
 and, to add to the sadness, down came all the Germans who could walk, 
 from St. Marc's, to shake hands with their French comrades, and give 
 them addresses in far-away German towns of friends who would be kind 
 to the prisoners. The guard had not arrived, and there they stood waiting, 
 when one of them remembered a book he had left. I ran back to fetch it, 
 and at the door of St. Marc's was nearly knocked over by a breathless 
 Hessian, calling to me to stop. 'Peace! peace! the peace is signed! 'he 
 gasped out. 'They need not go; if they do, they'll all come back to- 
 morrow.' 'Can it be true?' I asked; 'how do you know it?' 'Madame, I 
 was lunching with my cousin, a Protestant pastor; I went with him to the 
 General's; he was to say the service there; the General had just had the 
 despatch from Versailles. It is true, but the official news is not here; that 
 is, it will not be published till late to-night.' He gave me the names so 
 truthfully I could not doubt, and I ran back into the yard of Ste. Marie. 
 The guard were there, the men from Pomme-du-Pin and the Bon Pasteur 
 outside. 'The peace is signed!' I cried. My Hessian friend had followed, 
 and we explained how the news had come to us. 
 
 A wild scene of joy occurred. The Germans shouted and embraced the 
 French, the French screamed and hugged the Germans, and everybody 
 cried for joy. But the 'Wandering Jew' was inexorable. He had been 
 ordered to send in his prisoners that night, and go they should. Dr. 
 Kroner subtracted several quietly, and at last the rest were marched off; 
 
 A two-person card game played with a pack of 32 cards. A trick is won by the higher trump or 
 by the higher card of the suit led. The objective is to win three tricks. 
 
 t Scanty meals.
 
 PEACE. 269 
 
 but they went very gaily, for there was hope now. The Salles looked very 
 dreary that night. The Germans who could walk helped us to serve the 
 dinners, but what with anxiety and fatigue, and uncertainty if the good 
 news was really true, we had little or no sleep that night. Our poor boys, 
 too, were in that miserable, infected church. 
 
 It was barely daylight before Sister Ste. Marthe brought our coffee and 
 a message. 'The boys at St. Euverte were all waiting for "Les dames 
 anglaises." They had seen a little girl passing, and had sent her to say so.' 
 We dressed directly, and, accompanied by the Sister, we started. Tlie 
 church was just over the railway-bridge, and in the yard around it we 
 caught sight of 'our boys' looking out for us. They saw us, and a rush to 
 the front gate ensued. Of course we were let in, and were svirrounded by a 
 mob of soldiery, all friends of ours, and all exclaiming they were so tired 
 and so hungry they had not slept, and they had said in the middle of the 
 night they were sure we had not. An officer had most kindly come at 
 midnight and told them of the peace. Why were they kept prisoners 
 there? We promised then to go and see about it, and first of all went and 
 bought bread, wine, and tobacco. We called at the French Intendance; 
 they were utterly helpless. If we could get the men let out before next day, 
 when the orders from Versailles would be there, well and good; they could 
 not. 
 
 It was so evident tliere was no hope there that we resolved to go to the 
 Commandant de Place; but first we took our stores to the church, and 
 catching hold of the head Iiifirmiers from St. Marc, Ste. Marie, and Pomme 
 du-Pin, gave the wine and bread into their charge. The Infirmiers called 
 out for the men of their own Ambulances to assemble by three pillars, and 
 began to distribute provisions. A cry was raised, 'Vive Ste. Marie! Vive 
 1' Ambulance Anglaise!' and the poor creatures from other houses 
 crowded round. We were glad to see that our men gave liberally to all 
 who asked, and presently after, the Little Sisters of the Poor brought some 
 coffee and bread for their patients; and bread and coffee also came down 
 from our Convent, in charge of Sister Ste.-Helene, who, hearing of the 
 distress of the men, had hastily made what coffee she could, and brought 
 it to the church. 
 
 I went off and met our chief German Infirmier, a very gentlemanly 
 sous-off icier, with warm French sympathies, looking for me. He said, 
 'Come with me. This will not do; the men will get furious. Come to the 
 Commandant de Place.' We arrived, and the Commandant quite agreed 
 that, if we would be responsible for the men, till he gave them over to the 
 French Commandant, it would be better that they should go home to their
 
 270 PEACE. 
 
 various Ambulances, but referred us to the Chief Director of Ambulances. 
 To him we went, and 1 begged for the men of the Ambulance Anglaise to 
 be allowed to come back and remain with us till final orders were received 
 transferring them once more to French rule. He smiled and said, 'I v^ould 
 most willingly, for that Ambulance has been very kind to our men; but if I 
 give you all your men (you have about 200) I must let all the others go.' 
 'Then let them go,' I said; 'it is only the difference of half a dozen hours — 
 \-ery much to them, nothing to you. Please sign a little bit of paper, and let 
 them all go back to their Ambulances.' 
 
 The good old doctor laughed, signed a bit of paper, and gave it to my 
 German attendant; he touched his cap and ran off. I began to thank the 
 doctor; but he said, 'Run off, make haste, or you will miss a scene.' I did 
 run, and arrived opposite the churchyard gate just as the German sons- 
 officier riished in telling the sentinels to stand aside. He ran into the 
 church waving the paper, and before I could enter I was all but carried 
 away by the crowd as the French poured out of the gates in ecstasies of 
 joy. I ckmg to the gate way, calling out, 'Men of St. Marc and Ste Marie, 
 home to breakfast!' and every man obeyed. But it was a race; the German 
 and myself headed it over the bridge, but were overtaken by a feather- 
 weight Chasseur d' Afrique and a couple of Gardes Mobiles, who, arriving 
 first at the convent door, thundered upon it. Good Sister Ste-Marthe 
 opened the wicket by the cord, as usual, and looked out, and when she 
 saw the scene up the road she called out, 'They are all coming back!' and 
 ran into the halls to summon everybody to welcome 'the boys.'. The 
 Chasseur helped to throw open the large doors, and in trooped the 
 returning soldiers, met by a rush of the French and Germans still left, 
 while good Sister St.-Antoine, standing in the middle of tlie road, 
 extended her arms wide to receive her 'children,' crying out, 'Ah, mes 
 enfants, mes enfants, you are here! it is true!' Such a scene of honest, 
 heartfelt joy I never saw; everybody had tears in their eyes. It was indeed 
 the blessing of peace. 
 
 The days that followed were qviiet and tranquil, and it now became 
 our duty to try and relieve the sufferings of the peasantry around.. We 
 resolved, before the Ambulance broke up, to revisit the places we had 
 seen on those sad December days, and decided that our first excursion 
 should be to Cercottes and Chevilly.* The men in Ambulance were 
 allowed perfect liberty to walk about the city. We applied to the French 
 
 Several British and American tour operators specialise in battlefield tours, but for the Franco- 
 Prussian war they generally concentrate on the area between Metz and Paris, ignoring battlefields 
 around Orleans.
 
 PEACE. 271 
 
 Intendant for boots, and with success; and now that the weary war was 
 over, we gave every man as he left such clothes as he needed, the 
 Germans too, but they were so well supplied that they rarely required 
 anything. We had still many severely wounded, and to leave for a month 
 or six weeks was impossible; but everything seemed changed and 
 cheerful. Pretty things were to be seen once more in the shop windows, 
 provisions and fuel were brought freely into the town, everybody was gay 
 and good humoured. All around we saw and felt that it was PEACE.
 
 272 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 The welcome help we had so earnestly prayed for had come. Kind 
 hearts in England had responded to our appeals, and we resolved to 
 commence our tour round the desolated villages of the Loiret by going to 
 Cercottes and Chevilly on the direct road to Paris. The three days' battle 
 had commenced at Artenay on the 1st of December, on the 2nd advanced 
 to Chevilly, and on the 3rd to Cercottes, and all these villages had suffered 
 fearfully. But things were very much changed on that sunny 4th of March 
 from the sad winter day when we had gone out to seek the wounded 
 there. It was peace now. Though German soldiers occupied the villages, 
 and though the houses showed the ravages of war, the fields were 
 cultivated, the little gardens being repaired, and women and children 
 visible once more. We took with us the young Zouave we had found in 
 the farm at Cercottes, who was delighted to be our attendant, and with his 
 crimson fez and embroidered jacket was quite a picturesque object. We 
 drove slowly through the long faubourg and on the straight road leading 
 from Les Aydes to Cercottes. 
 
 We did not stop there, but went straight on to Chevilly, and halted at 
 the little house of the Sisters of St. Charles. There an English lady of a 
 good Norfolk family, the friend I had met on the 6th of December, was 
 still Superior of the Sisters. She was out, seeing some sick people in the 
 village, but was sent for; and meantime one of the Sisters received us with 
 most graceful cordiality, and showed us the ruin effected in their house by 
 the Prussian soldiery. It was but a small building, with outhouses: added 
 to it; a school for poor children; where the absolutely destitute are lodged, 
 boarded, and clothed for nothing, and others for what they can pay, the 
 average being about two pounds a year. The good Superior had laid in 
 her little winter stock. Butter being cheap in autumn, she had bought 
 some and salted it down.* She had made her store of preserves, and 
 begged blankets and clothes for her little ones. Then came first the 
 
 To preserve it, butter was salted (one pound of salt to ten of butter). Before the butter was used 
 the salt was removed by washing it. The butter was put in a chilled earthen bowl and squeezed 
 with the hands until it was soft and waxy, then the bowl was placed under running cold water.
 
 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 occupation of October. That was not so terrible. They had some sick in the 
 house, and it was respected; besides, the Bavarians, who at that time took 
 Orleans, were far gentler and kinder to the Sisterhoods than the Prussians. 
 This may be accounted for by their being mostly Catholics, and naturally 
 having a sympathy with the good works of their co-religionists. 
 
 On the 3rd of December the battle was close around them. Shot and 
 shell passed over tliem, and one shell burst in a class-room, scattering 
 some hundred bullets through the room. Forti.mately, no one was tliere; 
 the little children had fled with their parents into Orleans, and not a soul 
 was hurt. But when the battle was over, and the French had retreated into 
 the last trenches close by the city, the Germans occupied the village and 
 took possession of the house. They cut down the doorways with their 
 swords, to make them large enough for their horses to enter, and occupied 
 the lower floor as stables. In vain the Sisters pleaded that something 
 might be spared them; every single thing was taken, even the spectacles of 
 the Superior, the scissors, boxes of cottons, and tatting materials* of the 
 Sisters. All the blankets and counterpanes were stolen, and the black serge 
 gowns of the nuns cut up for wrappers for the soldiers' throats. In one 
 night they consumed forty pounds of butter and nearly all the preserves. 
 They tore off the leaves of the school desks and the doors for fuel, and 
 burnt up the school benches. Tliey even took the children's clothes, and 
 when the Sisters begged them to spare these useless things they would not 
 hear a word, and actually took away the tiny socks and shoes. 'Spare 
 these,' said the Sisters; 'these belong to the poor.' 'We are poor, too,' was 
 the reply. The Superior went to the Mairie, where the commanding officer 
 was installed, and prayed him to restrain his men. She was only met by a 
 rough denial, and returned to her ruined home hopeless of redress or 
 help. Tlte windows were broken, the closets and drawers forced open 
 with bayonets, and wanton and cruel damage committed, whilst the 
 Sisters pleaded in vain that they would spare what was really the 
 property of the poor of the village. For three days they had nothing to eat, 
 except the broken bits of bread they picked up, and scraps of meat thrown 
 away by the soldiers, which they washed and made soup of. 
 
 And now, though the worst was passed, poverty and destitution were 
 their lot for many a long weary month. The children had come back to 
 their home — for such it was — and it was a hard struggle to keep them, 
 and surely the moderate assistance we could give was never more needed 
 than here. To replace some of their bedding and children's clothes was 
 
 ■ Tatting: making lace by looping and knotting a single strand of strong thread on a hand shuttle.
 
 274 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 indeed a great boon to them, and many a heart was gladdened by the 
 assistance sent from England in time of need. The Sister produced some 
 bread, wine, and preserve, and we did not like to refuse the hospitality so 
 freely offered. We promised to return when we had visited the Mairie, 
 and there we accordingly went. It looked far brighter and more cheerful 
 than on that terrible day in December when it was crowded with 
 wounded. The rooms were still disarranged, the furniture strewed about 
 here and there, and some few invalid soldiers had their beds in a salon. 
 They had not forgotten us, nor how the Ambulance Anglaise brought 
 them the first bread and wine after three days' living on rice. 
 
 From thence we walked with Madame H— through a pretty little 
 wood, or rather shrubbery, where, as she told us, at this time last year, 
 snowdrops, violets, and primroses carpeted the ground; but all were gone, 
 and tramp of men and horse had trodden the earth into a hard, rough 
 mass, like a dry ploughed field. We called at the house of Madame D' A— . 
 It was still full of Prussians, and the family, fifteen in number, had only 
 one sitting room. Though peace was signed and reqviisitions done away 
 with, two German surgeons quartered there were most disagreeable, and 
 claimed all kinds of provisions, whilst a major, also in quarter there, was 
 very kind and considerate. All through the sad times at Orleans it seemed 
 to depend entirely on the private character of the officers, rather than any 
 settled rule, what the poor, wretched inhabitants had to supply to their 
 conquerors. The house had had a narrow escape, and a beautiful creeper 
 in front had its stem severed by a ball. They spoke of the awful trial the 
 last six months had been, and of the 2nd and 3rd of December, of the dead 
 strewed about their garden and in the little wood, where the violets 
 should be blooming now, and the dying who crawled into the village for 
 shelter, from the bitter night and the falling snow. Tliey told us how many 
 a poor soldier, they feared, still lay unburied amongst the brushwood in 
 the forest of Orleans, which extended behind and around the village. 
 Hidden amongst the grass and shrubs many, doubtless, perished from 
 cold; and they told us, too, how the wolves scented their prey, and, 
 leaving the forest, prowled even almost into the village, adding to the 
 terrors of the scene by their howls. God grant that hunger and frost had 
 ended the agonies of the poor wounded in the forest before that savage 
 pack tracked them in the recesses of the wood-paths. 
 
 When we returned to the house of the Sisters of St. Charles we found 
 the Superior there, and having given the small sum intended for the repair 
 of the school-room and the purchase of a few blankets and clothes, we 
 were about to take leave, when she begged us not to go without having
 
 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 seen the farm of Andeglou. We walked with her up the village street. 
 There were Prussians in every house, and all trade and employment was 
 at a stand-still; but very few, if any, wounded were left there. We turned 
 off to the right and came on the open country. The forest was close by in 
 the background, and a level, open space before us, of what had once been 
 cultivated fields. To our left, the groimd rose gently, and on it stood a 
 roofless, lonely building, tlie gables clearly drawn out against the blue sky. 
 It formed one side of a square enclosure. The central court, in the midst of 
 which was a well, was entered by a large doorway, where once had been 
 gates; to the left, the farm house, with stone steps up to it, and beyond it, 
 forming the other side of the square, the stables. Facing us was a large 
 barn, and the square was completed by another large barn, the buildings 
 on our immediate right being also storehouses or barns. All was in ruins, 
 and we picked up a bit of shell just by the entrance. Unfortimately, the 
 farm stood on the highest level of the plateau, directly, in the line of fire 
 between the French and Prussian batteries, and the loss of men around it 
 had been great on both sides. It had suffered much in October, but its 
 utter ruin was or\ly completed in December. The. ravage and destruction 
 in the house were frightful. Besides the shot which had entered, leaving 
 gaps in the wall, pillage had done its worst. Not a single article of 
 furniture was left; torn papers strewn about everywhere, the stair cases 
 were nearly destroyed, not a window, cmd the marks of violence plainly to 
 be seen all around. 
 
 The Germans had an idea that French soldiers were hidden in the 
 farm, and they dashed open the doors to seek for them. Several shells had 
 fallen on the house, and set fire to it here and there, but the flames had 
 been extinguished by the farmer, who, with one or two of his men, had 
 remained on the spot. The Germans, however, took entire possession of 
 the buildings, and then came the saddest scene of all. Throughout the war 
 we had always found how anxious the Germans were to conceal their 
 enormous losses. Their published telegrams will prove this, as they 
 always far understated the real loss both of killed and wounded. They 
 always buried their dead instantly, and sent back their wounded to the 
 ground in their own occupation, if not beyond the Rhine. On this occasion 
 there was no time to dig graves for the dead, and no means of sending 
 large numbers of very badly or mortally wounded to the rear. The battle 
 was not ended. It had gone forward, so to speak, sweeping over the 
 country towards Orleans like an advancing wave, and every man was, 
 pressed on to the front. The dead were therefore collected and placed in 
 heaps in two of the barns, in which were still one thousand sacks of
 
 276 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 wheat, besides quantities of corn, hay, and mangoldwurzel* Many 
 wounded had been placed tinere, and they were hurriedly removed, and 
 tlie soldiers set fire to the barns. They did not burn quickly enough, and 
 some casks of petroleum which they had with them, were broken open 
 and poured upon those sad remains of hmnanity. The flames roared 
 fiercely, like a furnace; no one could approach the burning buildings that 
 shot up columns of fire to the dark night sky; and that was a German 
 funeral pyre! — that the dishonoured, unknown grave of upwards of three 
 hundred of Germany's best and bravest soldiers. No word of prayer 
 spoken above them, no stone to mark the spot. The roof that crashed in 
 upon the dead was the substitute for the earth that should have been 
 lightly and reverently piled over the remains of gallant men, who had 
 fought and fallen for the glory of 'Vaterland.' Notliing left but a huge 
 mass of calcined ashes, showing too plainly the traces of human bones, 
 mixed with fused metal, cloth, and grease. But a darker horror still is 
 spoken of in hushed tones. As the soldiers left the burning farm and went 
 on their way, the farmer and his men crept out from their hiding-place. 
 Something might yet be saved, but the flames beat them back, and they 
 ti-irned and fled in terror, for groans and shrieks were heard, and they 
 knew that dead and dying were mingled together in that fiery furnace. 
 Not all the wounded had been carried off. Many were doubtless 
 insensible from loss of blood, and there was no time to look closely into all 
 such cases. Would that we could hope that this was but an idle tale. It is a 
 dark reality. We brought home with us some of the charred remains. 
 There were many things in the war, hearing of which and seeing which 
 one could but feel that temporary success might follow; but no blessing 
 could ever rest on Emperor or King or nation, German or French, by 
 whose soldiers such things were done. And surely the farm of Andeglou 
 may be placed in the dark catalogue of such deeds. After this, all minor 
 horrors seemed as nothing. The corpse of the sheep-dog, wantonly shot in 
 the stable, the stealing of thirty cows and six horses, these were merely 
 accidents of war; but as we turned back and looked at the ruined farm, it 
 seemed haunted by a hideous remembrance of wordless agony and crime, 
 and to stand gaunt and blackened in the bright spring afternoon — a place 
 stamped with a dark shadow that no sunshine can ever brighten. 
 
 We left Chevilly saddened and depressed, and drove back to 
 Cercottes. The Cure gave us a sad history of the sufferings of his little 
 village since we had been tl-iere. The quartering of soldiery, and the 
 
 Mangelwurzel. a variety of beet grown to feed livestock.
 
 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 constant requisitions, had crushed the poor to the earth. The love of the 
 Germans for huge fires had brought about the burning of all palings, 
 doors, even agricultural implements, of which 384 were destroyed in this 
 village alone; and after three months of the misery entailed by an already 
 impoverished Commune having to feed and support many hundred 
 soldiers, there arrived one day a commanding officer, with a demand for 
 12,000 francs (480/.), when certainly there were not 12,000 pence in the 
 village. The Mayor was in Orleans, and had left his affairs in the hands of 
 the Cure, who was very busy preparing for the services of next day, wWch 
 was Ash Wednesday. The Cure was horrified, and told the officer it was 
 utterly impossible to pay that sum. The officer said that something must 
 be given to satisfy the Prefet. What was the highest sum that Cercottes 
 could pay? The Cure said there were about a hundred houses. If, on an 
 average, each family would pay ten francs, it was quite as much or more 
 than they could do. That would be 1,000 francs. The officer said it was not 
 enough; more must be given. If not, there were three ways of compelling 
 payment — firstly, pillage of the commune; secondly, the quartering of an 
 additional number of soldiers; and thirdly, the taking the principal people 
 of the village prisoners into Orleans as hostages for the whole sum. The 
 Cure remonstrated against any of these agreeable alternatives, and said 
 that ever since October the village had been reduced to the greatest 
 poverty. First, the French soldiers had been quartered there, then the 
 Bavarians, then the French again, then the Prussians, but no one had ever 
 been so hard before; and when the French were there they ate and drank 
 much less than the others. On this the officer was furiously angry, and 
 proclaimed the Cure his prisoner. The Cure replied he was ready; but 
 might he eat a morsel first? It was already prepared; and would tlie 
 captain share it with him? It was indignantly refused, and the poor Cure, 
 hungry and tired, had to tramp three miles to Orleans by the side of the 
 troopers' horses, and was shut up in the Mairie. There he passed twenty- 
 six hours. The Commandant de Place, before whom he was brought, said 
 that probably there had been too much vivacity on both sides; however, 
 he was not liberated till next day, when the captain himself came to let 
 him out, saying that it was only a misunderstanding arising from too 
 much vivacity. The payment of the money was never enforced on 
 Cercottes, and it is probable the vivacious captain had received a 
 reprimand for a proceeding that looks exceedingly like buccaneering or 
 highway robbery, and was perhaps a lively idea of his own, unauthorised 
 by the Prefet or any high military authority.
 
 278 A GERMAN FUNERAL PYRE. 
 
 Cercottes was, perhaps, one of the most oppressed of all villages; 
 always crowded with troops, on tlie high road to Paris, and in the midst of 
 three or four battles. The list of destroyed blankets, clothes, sheets, and 
 household goods is something almost incredible. A little assistance 
 towards purchasing bread for the poor actually starving was most 
 gratefully received, and we were assured that the Cure and his flock 
 would not forget to pray for the welfare of England. 
 
 We then drove on towards Orleans; we passed the lonely grave 
 around which I had seen the bodies lying on the 6th December. No one 
 had ever claimed that of the captain of the Foreign Legion, which the Cure 
 had placed so carefully on the top. Perhaps he is being waited for now in 
 some far away country, and his near and dear ones do not know of his 
 grave on the battle-ground of Orleans. We stopped at the farmhouse 
 where Pere Guerin and myself had found the yoimg Zouave. How glad 
 the good old couple were to see him, and how warmly they received us 
 all! the farmer's wife saying in her graceful French way, 'Remember me 
 well to thy mother, my boy, though I do not know her.' They were 
 astonished to see how stout and rosy he had grown, and how actively the 
 lad who had left them hardly able to crawl to the carriage, could help us 
 in, shut the door, and jump upon the box, gaily waving his cap as we 
 drove down the lane. 
 
 It was dark when we re-entered Orleans, but there was no being 
 stopped by sentinels and asked all sorts of questions, no fear of gates 
 being shut and our being left to pass the night in some miserable cabaret 
 in the Faubourg. No fear, on our return, of finding that some of our poor 
 fellows had been hurried away as prisoners. In every little detail it was 
 Peace, not War; and what a difference that makes no one who has not 
 lived amongst such scenes can tell. All was cheerful and quiet. Lights 
 blazing from every window of the long corridors, the soldiers passing up 
 and down, carrying the supper into the halls, and our own cheerful little 
 room ready to receive us.
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 If Bazeilles was the saddest scene of the war, in its entire destruction, 
 the fate of Chateaudun will excite even warmer sympathy. Place that 
 brave little town in the midst of our English land, picture to yourselves 
 Englislimen defending wife and child, hearth and home, against a foreign 
 invader, and the name of Chateaudun would never be heard in any public 
 assembly ungreeted by those ringing cheers that meet the recital of acts of 
 heroism and self-devotion whenever they are told to our countrymen and 
 women. It was early in the autvunn when this sad scene occurred. 
 Bazeilles was burned on the 1st of September, Chateaudun on the 18tli of 
 October; yet in a letter, signed R. Loyd Lindsay, dated January 2, and 
 published in the 'Standard' January 3, 1871, we read as follows: — 
 
 'A nvimber of English gentlemen of high character, some of them 
 soldiers, are acting as reporters to the English press at tlie seat of war, and, 
 like their brethren at home, are not only keen to mark anything that may 
 be done amiss, but also prompt and ready to place on record the good 
 deeds which may come under their notice. Thus, like the bards of the 
 Middle Ages, who, while they incited the knights to do their utmost, gave 
 them a place and a name to be remembered in history. Wfiile the keenest 
 eyes that can be found have been watching the war, there has not been detected 
 any act of wanton barbarity or premeditated cruelty during the whole of this 
 invasion of France by the Germans. But though England has not had cause to 
 cry shame upon anything which the writers at the seat of war have made 
 public, she has been called upon to point out that much which ought to be 
 done in civilised warfare remains on both sides undone.' 
 
 But let us see how, in reality, the bards of the nineteenth century write 
 of the Colonel's German friends. They time their minstrel harps, and 
 chant the following lay to the glory of the Teuton knights. Mr. W. H. 
 Bullock, writing to the 'Daily News' on the 9th of November, 1870, says: 
 'The burning of Bazeilles was an act of vengeance wreaked on victims of 
 whose innocence I have been at the utmost pains to convince myself.' He 
 goes on to speak of Beaurepaire, a little hamlet burnt by the German 
 troops: 'that women and little children were unhoused at the beginning of
 
 280 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 winter, besides losing the bulk of their linen, clothes, and bed furniture, 
 which is, as a rule, plundered first by the German soldiers, and then sold 
 by them to the Jews and others who are reported to follow the camp.' An 
 admirable article in the 'Quarterly'* of January, 1871, gives also extracts 
 from the letter of a French pastor, for whose credibility the writer can 
 vouch, first published in the 'Times,' whose sickening details of cruelty 
 and barbarity in the neighbourhood of Dreux can be well corroborated by 
 our own researches in and around Orleans. In one sentence he says, 'So 
 great is the terror they inspire, that we hear on all sides of suicides.' 
 
 But to return to Chateaudun — and we here by beg Colonel Loyd- 
 Lindsay and all who may read this work to take notice that we relate no 
 single occurrence that cannot be vouched for on official authority, and we 
 give our authors' names for all details of the October massacre. 
 'Chateaudun,' saith Murray,' is a town of 6,781 inhabitants, on the banks 
 of the Loire.' It is a station on the line from Paris to Tours, via Vendome, 
 and, with its old castle crowning it, stands picturesquely, where the 
 gradual rise of the flat land around it slopes perpendicularly down on the 
 north side to the river, beyond which is the Faubourg of St. Jean. The 
 Prussian attack was from the south and east sides, where they took 
 advantage of rising gromid to plant their batteries. 
 
 The history of the defence, written by L. D. Coudray,t of Chateaudun, 
 from his own personal experience and official documents, gives many 
 interesting details, and commences by showing the unblushing falsehood 
 of the account given in the 'Times' by its Berlin correspondent. From the 
 first incursions of the invader over the fertile plains of the Beauce 
 Chateaudun prepared to give them a warm reception. The National 
 Guard was organised and armed, and a body of Francs-tireurs arrived 
 from Tours. One word as to these Francs tireurs, so detested by the 
 Prussians. They were men recruited from all ranks and classes, nobles and 
 their servants, farmers and their labourers, gamekeepers, soldiers, 'en 
 retraite,'^: country gentlemen, clerks, mechanics, and artisans. Most of 
 them were splendid shots, and the guerilla system of warfare they 
 adopted is the very one so often pointed out as the way in which our Rifle 
 Volunteers, sheltered behind the numerous hedges of Old England, could 
 hold a foreign foe in check, and carried out exactly tlie orders given by the 
 
 The Quarterly Review. London: J. Murray. 
 
 t Histoire du chdteau de Chdteaudun. Louis Desire. Coudray. Deuxieme edition, revue et 
 augmentee. Illustree de gravures et d'une photographie. pp. 206. Paris, 187L 
 ? Retired persons.
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 281 
 
 'Landsturm-Ordnung' of 1813, as published in Prussia. This orders them 
 to shoot at their enemies from beliind houses and hedges, and inflict every 
 possible injury on them; but the French did not go as far as these orders 
 authorise the Prussians to do, for they always retained their uniform, and 
 did not, as the Landstvirm are ordered to do, lay aside their distinctive 
 caps and belts; when the enemy appears in force, and -assume to be 
 simple inhabitants.' These orders are still in force in Prussia, yet the 
 Germans on all occasions treated the Francs-tireurs as brigands, and a 
 general order was published forbidding the German army to take them 
 prisoners, but to shoot there down whenever tliey showed themselves. 
 
 However, a small body of this dreaded force, about 900 men, under a 
 Polish Colonel named Lipowski, arrived in Chateaudun on the 29th of 
 September. On the 10th of October the first Uhlans were seen, and on this 
 day a small detachment of Prussian cavalry was attacked at Varize, a 
 small village near Chateaudun, and put to flight. On the 14th 200 Prussian 
 troops returned and were again defeated, and whilst retreating through 
 Civry, a neighbouring village, were attacked, and left many men dead. 
 Next day 800 Prussian cavalry arrived at Varize by the only road which 
 traverses the marshes around it. They prevented all escape, and the 
 frightened women and children hid amongst the tall grass of the marshes 
 whilst the few National Guards still held bravely out, and fifty Prussians 
 were put hors de combat. The Prussians forced their way in, pillaged every 
 house in the town, and then set fire to them, aided by petroleum, which 
 they seem always to have carried about with them, and, having thus 
 punished Varize, proceeded to Civry, and did the same there. Of the 
 sixty-two houses which composed the little town of Varize only two 
 houses and the church remain, and these are damaged by fire. 
 
 Unwarned by the fate of these villages, Chateavidun resolved to 
 defend itself, in spite of the decision of the commanders of the hussars. 
 Gardes Mobiles, and Francs-tireurs quartered there, that defence was 
 impossible; but the inhabitants and the National Guard considered this 
 declaration as unnecessary, and Colonel Lipowski submitted a 
 proposition to the sous-prefet to defend the town to the last extremity. The 
 municipality would have declined the proposal, to save the town from 
 pillage; but it was otherwise settled, and the preparations for defence 
 were commenced. Barricades were erected at the entrance of the streets 
 and walls pierced for musketry, and 1,300 National Guards and Francs- 
 tireurs, with no cannon, prepared to hold Chateaudun to the death against 
 General Von Wittich with 12,000 men and numerous arhllery.
 
 282 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 This General's name should be well remembered. He bore the 
 reputation, and not unjustly, of one of the fiercest and most merciless of 
 the Prussian commanders, and went in France by the name of the 'Butcher 
 of Chateaudun.' It is this very General whose enthusiastic thanks to 
 Surgeon Manley, of the War Office Ambulance, are quoted by Colonel 
 Loyd-Lindsay in his letter of the 3rd January. He says 'The work during 
 all this period was most severe, and Surgeon Manley gives great credit to 
 all tliere, both officers and men, who worked under him. The message 
 which he received on one occasion from General Von Wittich shows that 
 the services rendered by his Ambulance were tliankfuUy accepted and 
 appreciated by the Prussian commanders. "Receive," said the General, "our 
 heartfelt thanks for your most valuable aid, given to us in the moment of our 
 great need, when our own ambulances were not forthcoming!"' 
 
 Thank God that when tlie bloody scene was over there was another 
 Ambulance who came with help and protection to the poor citizens to 
 work amidst the smouldering ruins 'to feed the hungry, and clothe the 
 naked, to visit the sick and the prisoner'*; and though no Prussian thanks 
 record its noble service, the little children of Chateaudun have learned to 
 lisp a prayer for the Irish Ambulance and the good Dr. Baxter and Arthur 
 Picard. We shall speak of them by and by. 
 
 To resume the sad story- At noon on the 18th of October the cry was 
 raised, 'The Prussians, the Prussians!' and whilst the little garrison flew to 
 arms the German army appeared on the south side of the town. The attack 
 commenced at one o'clock by the firing of a shell, which struck the Town- 
 hall, and immediately afterwards a hail of shot and shell fell around it, 
 and in the very heart of the place. The noise of falling chimneys and 
 crashing roofs, the roar of cannon, the rattle of musketry, and the shrieks 
 of women filled the air, whilst clouds of smoke and dust arose. The 
 bombardment from that time never ceased till darkness closed in, arid the 
 Prussians meantime tried to force their way past the barricades. About 
 two in the afternoon the Prussian batteries were firing on the Convent of 
 the Dames Blanches, the Sous Prefecture, the Church of the Madeleine, 
 and even the hospital, though the Geneva flag, displayed from its highest 
 roof, was visible to every battery. About three P.M. a shell fell on the roof 
 and penetrated to a hall full of wounded. One of these, who had suffered 
 amputation only a quarter of an hour before, was so terrified that he fled, 
 dragging himself down the staircase to the cellars, his wound bleeding 
 afresh. Several of the shells were filled with petroleum and other 
 explosive matters, and set fire to the houses as they fell. 
 
 * Matthew 25: 42-45
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 283 
 
 About four o'clock nearly twenty houses were blazing, yet it was 
 seven o'clock in the evening before the Prussians entered the town. A 
 strong column forced their way up the Rue de Chartres, on their way to 
 the Grande Place, and at eight o'clock the whole division marched in. 
 Then began the deplorable scene that must for ever tarnish the laurels of 
 the Emperor of Germany. All resistance had ceased, they were masters of 
 Chateaudun, but the gallant little town had dared to resist, and its 
 punisliment must be such as to be a warning to other impertinent little 
 places, tliat would not throw open their gates and welcome their cruel foe. 
 Over some scenes it is well to pass lightly. The shooting of Gardes 
 Nationaux and Francs-tireurs taken red-handed in the fight was, perhaps, 
 a natural consequence of war. They claimed no immunity as 'simple 
 inhabitants,' and met the fate of soldiers, but petroleum and pine-torches 
 did the work of destruction too surely in the private houses of 
 unoffending women and old men. One Andre Martin, aged and 
 bedridden, could not rise when the Prussian soldiers entered the room, 
 ordering him to get up and leave the house, as they intended to burn it. 
 His wife pleaded in vain that, being paralysed from head to foot, he could 
 have taken no part in the battle. She was torn away from his bedside, fire 
 was brought and piled under the bed, and the miserable victim expired in 
 the midst of frightful torture; his charred remains were found, and bear 
 witness to a deed the very savages would blush to own. Close by lived an 
 old officer who in youth had fought in the Grande Armee of the First 
 Napoleon. Still suffering from a wound which had crippled Wm, he too 
 had taken no share in the defence. Tlie Prussians entered his house, 
 ordered him to leave it, as it must be burnt, and he remonstrated with 
 them that this was not war; in all his campaigns he had never seen such 
 things done. The answer was a blow from the butt end of a musket. He 
 was shot down on the threshold of his home, unarmed and unoffending, 
 and his bleeding corpse thrown into the flames of his house. The 'Echo 
 Dunois,' in the first number published after the peace dated the 9th of 
 May, thus gives their deaths amongst a list of those who perished on the 
 18th and 19th of October, 1870: * 
 
 'Andre Martin, rentier, veuf, brule vif dans son lit par la main des 
 Prussians, 69 ans. 
 
 'Casimir-Etierme Michau, capitaine de cavalerie en retraite, chevalier 
 de la Legion d'honneur, veuf, 73 ans: tue sur le seuil de sa maison.' 
 
 * Andre Martin, widower of private means, burned alive in his bed at the hand of the Prussians, 69 
 years. 
 Casimir-Etienne Michau, retired cavalry captain. Knight of the Legion of Honour [France's 
 highest decoration], widower, 73 years: killed on the threshold of his house.
 
 284 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 Can these things be read, attested as they are by those who saw them 
 done, and vet nnen talk of 'no act of wanton barbarity or premeditated 
 cruelty during the war!' The Hotel of the Grand Monarque was fired, the 
 Prussians setting fire first to the long dining-room; in short, that night two 
 hundred houses were blazing, whilst the wretched inhabitants fled across 
 the river, and took refuge in the suburb of St. Jean. The victory cost the 
 Prussians dear; they lost from 2,000 to 2,500 killed and wounded, as 
 acknowledged by their own officers, wWlst the defenders amounted only 
 to 1,300, and the town was held for eight hours against such enormous 
 odds. 
 
 At break of day a few of the most courageous citizens crept back. 
 Their return was unopposed, but what a sight met them! From every 
 house that had been spared all its contents had been taken: wine, liqueur, 
 linen, furniture, all were gone. Soldiers were quartered in the empty 
 rooms, and demanded dinner and wine when there were none to give. 
 Meantime General von Wittich was resolved that prisoners should grace 
 his triumph, and about one hundred citizens were made captive and 
 taken away to Germany. A list of their names is given in the 'Echo 
 Dunois,' and not one is a soldier or Franc-tireur. They were brought to 
 Orleans, where the citizens, seeing them faint and weary, prepared some 
 refreshment for them. It was immediately consumed by the German 
 soldiery, who threw the broken pieces to tlieir prisoners, and when the 
 indignant Orleanais brought a fresh supply, they were met with threats 
 and menaces. The inhabitants who remained were treated with insult and 
 oppression. The halls of the College were turned into stables, the officer 
 remarking to one of the Professors, 'Don't you feel very humiliated at 
 seeing horses in your class-rooms?' 
 
 The Jews who accompanied the division stabled tlieir heavy waggons 
 in the factory Rainville, where they were loaded with the booty bought 
 from the soldiery, and were then sent away to Germany. After the pillage 
 came the demand for a money contribution. General von Wittich fixed it 
 at 200,000 francs (8,000/.), an enormous sum for a half-burned and wholly 
 ruined town, 1,500 blankets, 200 pounds of salt, 200 pounds of coffee, 400 
 litres of brandy, and 20,000 litres of hay. The poor people got together 
 30,000 francs, 110 blankets, the coffee and salt, and, finding it impossible 
 to screw out more, the General was obliged to be contented with this. 
 
 The day after the battle, amidst smoking ruins and unburied bodies, 
 the German bands played one of Strauss' s valses, an air by Weber, and an 
 overture by Wagner! How bitterly must the mourners have felt this 
 mockery of their sorrow and desolation! Tlie greater part of the German
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 285 
 
 troops left on the 20th, but the town remained occupied by a small 
 garrison. Several houses were tired just before they left, and one instance 
 more may be given of wanton mischief. A German surgeon quartered in 
 the house of a French resident medical man not only carried off the best of 
 the surgical instruments of his unfortunate host, but broke those he did 
 not care to take away. On the 20th also thanks were voted to the town of 
 Chateaudim by the Government at Tours, and 100,000 francs were 
 granted to aid in repairing the damages, whilst nine of the heroic 
 defenders, including Colonel Lipowski, received the Legion of Honour, 
 and a street in Paris had its name changed from Rue Cardinal Fesch to 
 Rue Chateaudun. 285 houses were completely destroyed; twelve only by 
 shell, 193 were fired by hand, and the rest caught fire from the proximity 
 of burning buildings. Tlie entire loss of house property and furniture 
 amounted to 5,000,000 francs. 
 
 The list of innocent victims amounts to twenty-eight civilians, five of 
 whom were men in the prime of life, who perished in the burning 
 buildings. One was a blacksmith, shot the day after tlie battle in the street 
 because he did not answer a sentinel's challenge given in German, and 
 one paragraph from the death list will tell its own tale how father, mother, 
 and children died together: — 
 
 'Saillard, carrossier, marie, 42 ans: asphyxie. 
 
 'Estelle-Uranie Menant, femme Saillard, 38 ans environ: asphyxie. 
 
 'Marie-Lucie Saillard, 13 ans 4 mois asphyxie. 
 
 'Louise-Uranie Saillard, 2 ans 4 mois asphyxie.' 
 
 Three servant-girls of one family were smothered in a cellar. 
 
 We had always had a great desire to visit this place, and one fine 
 bright morning in March, the 8th, Louise and myself started for 
 Chateaudun. It is about twelve leagues* from Orleans; the country, a flat 
 level, gave the exact impression of a brown sea with islets rising out of it, 
 in the shape of small villages and isolated farms. Nothing could be 
 drearier. We left Orleans by the long suburb leading to Les Ormes. Tlie 
 Germans had attacked on this side, and manv houses were much 
 damaged, especially at Les Ormes, which had suffered heavily from 
 pillage and requisition. Traces of earthworks! were still visible, and it 
 seemed to us, as we journeyed around Orleans and looked at the lines of 
 defence, that a far more desperate resistance might have been made. 
 
 * 36 miles (58 km). 
 
 t Embankments used as a fortification.
 
 286 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 Beyond Les Ormes we came on the open country, leaving about a mile on 
 our left the village of Ingres, which, being imable to pay a heavy money 
 requisition, had been given up to pillage, and where many acts of cruelty 
 had been perpetrated. 
 
 We halted at Tournoisie, a little village half-way, to rest the horses, 
 and entering the principal auberge, we asked for some dejeuner. The poor 
 woman assured us that German troops had passed the night in the village, 
 and eaten and taken everything away. Not a truss of hay was left, all had 
 been carried off, and not one farthing* paid for it; and this was after the 
 peace was signed, when it had been specially arranged that no 
 requisitions were to be made without payment. But resistance was useless 
 against armed and unscrupulous men, and the system was carried on to 
 the last. Even the knives and forks had been stolen, and all we could have 
 was some eggs and bread. We had some wine with us, and there was a 
 little coffee. We gave something to replace the knives, and the poor 
 woman said she hoped their troubles were nearly over now. The corps 
 expected every moment to arrive in the village would be the last to pass 
 through, and as they were Hessians, she hoped they would behave more 
 mercifully than the Prussians. Everywhere we foimd it the same. The 
 Prussians proper were considered by the French as the most cruel and the 
 most detested of all the 'people and tribes' t who made up the German 
 army. Each of these 'tribes' disliked the others, and only agreed in one 
 thing, jealousy of their head, Prussia; but this jealousy and dislike were far 
 stronger on the part of the Bavarians than on that of any of the others. 
 
 We left Tournoisie after a rest of an hour and at four o'clock entered 
 Chateaudun. It had changed masters twice since the day of its first 
 capture, but on the 28th of November had been finally reoccupied by the 
 Germans, and, to our surprise, was still in their hands, the evacuation not 
 having been yet carried out. As this meant the occupation of every 
 available quarter by soldiers, it was far from an agreeable discovery. It is 
 a luckless little town. It was burned by the Orleanais in the sixth century, 
 by the Normans in the ninth, was the centre of a war against robber 
 hordes in the twelfth, was nearly destroyed by fire in 1783, and again, as 
 we know, in 1870. Its old castle escaped tlirough all these troubles; it was 
 built in the tenth century, and was the residence of the Comtes de Dunois. 
 It is now the property of the Due de Luynes, and was being restored when 
 the war broke out. It presents no appearance of decay, and as it stands, 
 
 * Quarter of a penny 
 
 t "...the people and the tribes of Israel were gathered together." — Deuteronomy 33:5
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 287 
 
 with its huge pile overlooking the town, is the very picture of a feudal 
 castle.* 
 
 As we drove slowly up the slope, we passed the railway station; it had 
 been much injured, and a very large white building close by had been 
 destroyed by fire, and was a mere empty shell. We proceeded up the Rue 
 d'Orleans, and here burnt houses were visible on every side, and piles of 
 ruins still encumbered the streets. We made our way to the Place Royale, 
 or central square, and to the hotel whose sign-board anriounced it as Hotel 
 de la Place. It had been Hotel Imperiale, but that word was erased, and the 
 host was waiting a permanent change of Government, or dynasty, to 
 replace it. Will it be 'Republique,' or 'Royale,' or 'Imperiale' again? The 
 hostess came out to greet us, and one word — that we were friends of M. 
 Arthur Picard — secured us a warm reception. She had no room for us; 
 but the head groom had a nice little house, not burned down, and we 
 could have a room there. Meantime she would prepare our dinner. We 
 should have it quietly before those noisy Germans came in. 
 
 One word as to M. Picard, and the great service he rendered to 
 Chateaudun, as our kind landlady told us the tale, whilst waiting on us at 
 dinner. He was the 'comptable' or manager of the Irish Ambulance, 
 which he had joined in company with Dr. Ryan shortly after our being at 
 Tours where we met them. This Irish Ambulance was formed in Dublin 
 and sent out to aid the French. It had no connection whatever with the so- 
 called Irish Ambulance formed in London and dissolved at Havre, but it 
 originally consisted of far too many dressers and Infirmiers, and its chief. 
 Dr. Baxter, sent back two-thirds of them when he joined at Havre, where 
 they had arrived from Cork. They entered Chateaudun when the 
 Germans evacuated it, at the time the French retook Orleans, and were 
 there on the re-entrance of the Germans, having some of their surgeons at 
 Patay and other villages. 
 
 During this time a very strange event occurred. The Church of the 
 Madeleine was once more used for Divine worship. The Host was in the 
 shrine, one solitary French National Guard kneeling in the aisle, and a few 
 hvimble inhabitants. A German soldier — let us charitably hope, the worse 
 for wine or brandy — mounted the Altar steps, and was in the act of 
 climbing upon the Altar itself, to desecrate most shamefully the sacred 
 place, when the revolver in his belt caught some projection, turned 
 
 * Chateaudun castle is now open daily. It is sparsely furnished but has a richly decorated chapel, 
 fine tapestries and two carved staircases. In summer medieval fairs are held there. Recently there 
 began medieval banquets of utmost elegance, prepared by a chef speaking Old French, each course 
 preceded by singing troubadours playing lute, bagpipes, tambour and hurdy-gurdy.
 
 288 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 upwards, one of the barrels was discharged, and the ball lodged so close 
 to his heart, that his death followed instantaneously. General Von Wittich 
 immediately demanded 20,000 fraiics fine. He could not prove the 
 murderer was that National Guard, nor could he identify him; but he was 
 convinced a French hand had done the deed, and he threatened to 
 bombard the town afresh if the fine was not paid. It could not be raised, 
 and things were looking desperate, when Arthur Picard, accompanied by 
 one of the Sisters of Mercy nursing in the Irish Ambulance, sought out the 
 General at his quarters, about a mile out of town, to plead for mercy. M. 
 Picard offered to pay down at once 5;000 francs on condition that the body 
 of the dead German was given up to him for examination, that two 
 German surgeons should be present, and that on the result of this 
 examination future proceedings should depend. The General consented; 
 the examination took place. The ball was found; it was the ball of the 
 soldier's own revolver. The General was convinced and the fine remitted; 
 but the 5,000 francs were retained. Such is the tale that has made Arthur 
 Picard's name known in Chateaudun; but of one and all we heard high 
 praise. Their skill, their courage, their unselfish devotion, their kindly 
 sympathy, not only witli the sick but the sorrowing, were the theme of 
 every tongue, and that we were friends of theirs was our sufficient 
 passport. They did splendid service, though no official thanks have ever 
 been given to them. However, two days before we arrived they had left, 
 and only a waggon with 'Ambulance Irlandaise' painted on it, and 
 standing in the yard of a factory, remained to testify of their presence 
 there. 
 
 Before diiiner we strolled about the town. It was a sad sight of wreck 
 and ruin. The back of our hotel was entirely destroyed, and next door a 
 range of buildings, once a splendid shop, was in ruins. Tlie other side of 
 the Place Royale had escaped better, but the windows were starred with 
 bullet holes. When the Prussians stormed the barricades and entered the 
 town a great deal of random firing took place in the streets, to the 
 destruction of the windows. We heard sad tales from one and all of the 
 terror and distress in the town on that October night; how when the 
 Prussians entered - 'comme des sauvages'* — women and children fled 
 down the steep path that led to the river banks, and so escaped by the 
 Faubourg. The shops were broken open and their contents strewed about 
 the street; sugar, rice, coffee, pieces of silk, muslin, and linen, books, 
 furniture, bacon, butter, cheese, very conceivable article, were heaped 
 
 "Like savages.'
 
 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 289 
 
 together in the streets and trodden under foot. Many inhabitants were 
 utterly ruined, and it will be years, if ever, before Chateaudun recovers 
 the effect of that day's work. Tlie hundred citizens sent away as prisoners 
 passed several months in Germany, and tlie entire suspension of trade 
 and business had been the consequence. 
 
 The next morning, after a walk about the town, we ordered breakfast, 
 and prepared to leave on our return to Orleans. When we went down to 
 the salle-a-manger, we found a very fat, red-faced officer there, who was 
 giving directions for his breakfast in bad French. After him entered two or 
 three others,, and they began to eat their cutlets and salad with good 
 appetites. Just as they had finished the landlady came in, and, addressing 
 the first officer, asked him if he were the General who had sent to 
 command a dejeimer. 'J^^.' answered the individual in question. 'Then, 
 Monsieur,' said the good woman, 'your dejeuner is prepared in the small 
 salle. I apologise that I did not recognise your Excellency.' 'Bring the 
 breakfast here,' replied his Excellency; 'I can eat a second, but I shall not 
 stir from here.' All persuasions were vain, so the second breakfast was 
 brought, and devoured with equal appetite; and the General began to 
 converse. He spoke in German, and was telling the others how, where he 
 had been quartered, he had been called a tyrant; but he only wished he 
 could do twice as much to crush the 'canaille* of France.' As for sparing 
 men, women, and children, it was all nonsense. The Germans should have 
 rule over all, to do as they pleased with them. The rest of the chivalrous 
 warrior's ideas, as regarded his captives, had best be omitted. 
 
 I suppose our faces showed the disgust we felt, for one of the officers 
 tried to silence him, and he said, still in German, looking at us, 'They are 
 brave women to travel about in this country just now.' We resolved to 
 show him that we were not unguarded, and, calling the landlady, I 
 whispered to her to send in Louis, our chief Infirmier, who had 
 accompanied us, telling her why. Louis came in, the very picture of a 
 bright, intelligent French soldier, in the neat dress of the Marine Infantry. 
 He was nearly six feet high, with a bright, blue eye, fair hair, and neatly- 
 trimmed moustache. He stood beliind our chairs as Louise and I turned 
 and spoke to him, giving him some directions about the carriage, whilst a 
 sudden silence fell on the noisy group of Germans, and the General let fall 
 his knife and fork, and sat as if thtmderstruck. To have a French private, 
 free and happy, travelling about in their lines, and actually introduced 
 into his august presence, was a fact he could not realise. Louis left, 
 
 * Rabble.
 
 290 A GALLANT LITTLE TOWN. 
 
 touching his kepi as he went; and the General, drawing a long breath, said 
 emphatically, 'Ach Himmel! but they are brave indeed to dare to do thisV 
 The rest of his party thoroughly enjoyed the scene, and as for the landlady 
 and the various inhabitants who were lounging about, their delight was 
 excessive, and if it had been possible to give us a French guard of honour 
 out of the town's precincts, I really believe it would have been done, they 
 were so pleased at what they considered the compliment paid to their 
 nation, and in speaking in a friendly manner, before the General, to a 
 French soldier, and showing that we had confidence in his fidelity and 
 good-will to act as our guard. Trifles like these go very far in war time. 
 There are two Generals we met whose lives are not worth an hour's 
 purchase when the next war comes between Prussia and France, and this 
 blustering bully is one of them. 
 
 We reached Orleans in safety, and the story, as related by Louis, was 
 the amusement of tlie Ambulance. One of the Germans told me the 
 General was a well-known man, very harsh to his own men, and probably 
 very cruel to his enemies. Characters vary in all men, but the difference in 
 German officers was extraordinary. I never could account for it, on any 
 settled principle, except that they differed much in themselves at various 
 times, and that often champagne had a great deal more to do with it than 
 natural character. It was an invariable rule with us never to have any 
 conversation with them after 7 P.M.; and though I do not go so far as some 
 people do who say that three parts of the officers in the German army 
 were drunk all day, except during a few hours in the morning, I am quite 
 sure that very many drank very hard, and many things were done in 
 consequence which could not be recalled, and which were bitterly 
 regretted in the cooler judgment of the early morning. This fact is another 
 proof of the terrible demoralisation of war. These gentlemen were not 
 habitual drunkards, were not wild boys, were, at least many of them, 
 steady-going citizens, fathers of families, and respectable members of 
 society. It may be feared that the habits acquired in this miserable war 
 will cling to them through life, and be handed down to their children; and 
 this fear should be a strong motive to promote peace by every honourable 
 means, so that our own land may, in God's mercy, be spared from the 
 awful scourge of War.
 
 THE LOIRET. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE LOIRET. 
 
 Our last expedition before we left Orleans was to tlie villages of 
 Artenay, Beaune-le-Rolande, and Lorcy, all the sites of fierce contest. 
 Artenay especially had suffered. It was on the high road to Paris, and 
 round it and in it several conflicts had taken place. Like all other towns in 
 the neighbourhood, it had been full of wounded, and had been heavily 
 oppressed by requisitions. The Cure showed us where a shell had 
 exploded in his garden, and the church had been struck by several. We 
 heard one strange and true thing there. A Tricolor flag was displayed side 
 by side with a Red Cross one, from the window of a respectable house 
 which was pointed out to us in the main street, and this had been stolen 
 by some German soldiers, a gilt eagle was fitted upon it, and it was taken 
 away to figure in the triumphal entry to Berlin as a regimental standard.* 
 A second instance of this occurred in the same town. So, if a vast number 
 of captured flags are borne through the streets of Berlin, we may fairly 
 entertain some doubt as to their authenticity. 
 
 Artenay must always be a very dull little place, and was of course 
 now a very depressed one. We visited the branch house of the St. Aignan 
 Sisterhood. The poor things had but little left. Their bedding was spoiled 
 by the use of the wounded, and their chairs had been burnt for firewood; 
 but they had reassembled their poor children, and the school was going 
 on as usual. Relief was sadly needed, and some was given by the kindness 
 of two gentlemen we met in the inn, agents for the distribution of the 
 American fund,t to whom we mentioned their case, and we cannot speak 
 too highly of the thorough manner in which these gentlemen discharged 
 
 * A French regimental standard consisted of a flag (which was considered of secondary 
 importance) mounted on a staff topped by a gilded bronze eagle with spread wings. The standards 
 were therefore known as Eagles (nicknamed 'cuckoos'by the soldiers). Eagles were often carried 
 in action with no colours. 
 
 t This fimd was perhaps one set up by the Quakers to help impoverished peasants in the battle 
 areas, because they did not want their aid going to the belligerents as it would help them to carry 
 on the war. The fund could not have been run by the American Red Cross because it was not 
 created imtil 1881. Its founder, Clara Barton, did independent relief work during the Franco- 
 Prussian War, helping to distribute suppUes to the destitute, mainly in Strasbourg. The 
 International Society of the Red Cross had refused her services because she was a woman.
 
 292 THE LOIRET. 
 
 their duty, examining personally into the cases, and using their own good 
 judgment, not trusting to the reports ot others, or leaving their work to be 
 done second-hand. 
 
 The road to Beaune-le-Rolande ran through the forest. We passed 
 over several huge trenches with stakes at the bottom, very nasty if man or 
 horse fell into them. They were bridged now witli planks, and it was 
 rather nervous work passing over in a carriage. Various earthbanks had 
 been thrown up amidst tlie brushwood for riflemen to hide behind; and 
 certainly it would have been impossible for an enemy to pass in face of an 
 opposing force; but unluckily the enemy, in this instance, did not come 
 tliat way. We stayed at a way side inn to lunch, and early in the afternoon 
 reached Beaune-le-Rolande. The battle here had been a very severe one; 
 several houses were destroyed by shell, and several more had been bvirnt. 
 
 We went to the Cure to enquire into tlie state of the poor, and were 
 surprised, on announcing ourselves as English, to be received with the 
 greatest coldness and suspicion. 'English, are you?' said the Cure; 'then 
 why did you not accompany your Ambulance? Tliey went to Beaugency 
 with the Prussians, they came here with them in the first instance, stayed 
 here a little while, and then went to rejoin them.' 'Very likely,' we said. 
 'But we do not belong to that Ambulance. They are with the Prussians; 
 but they never worked in Orleans. Tliey sent a messenger to us to know if 
 we had any work for them; but we did not want them, and said No. We 
 are of the Ambulance Anglaise in the Convent of St. Marc, Orleans, imder 
 Monseigneur Dupanloup.' This simple explanation changed all. We were 
 requested to sit down and share what dinner there was. We complained 
 of having been followed and unkindly spoken to as we came, and the 
 Cure said he would explain to the people that we did not belong to the 
 great English Ambulance that had gone with the Prussians. Justly or 
 unjustly, I know not, as we never came across them; but from first to last 
 the War Office Ambulance was considered by the French as merely 
 supplementing the regimental Ambulances of the German army, and they 
 had the same idea that I had been told of in England as being the boast of 
 a Prussian officer — that the assistance given to the Germans enabled them 
 to send 20,000 more men to the frorit than could otherwise have been 
 spared. 
 
 We left Beaune-le-Rolande next day, and by that time the news had 
 been spread that we were not English like the English who had been there, 
 who had lived hand-in-glove with the German officers. They had nursed 
 the wounded certainly, but the fact of intimate acquaintanceship with the 
 invaders, could not be forgiven by the people. In any future war this rock
 
 THE LOIRET. 293 
 
 must be avoided; neutrals should be really neutral. The great Ambulances 
 occupied a prominent place, but their help would have been gladly 
 dispensed with by the French because they were distrusted. It was the case 
 with the Anglo-American at Orleans, popular as it had been at Sedan, and 
 more particularly so during the whole career of the War Office Ambulance; 
 but the experience we gained of practical Ambulance work will be better 
 given hereafter in a separate form. 
 
 We drove to Lorcy to see the branch house of our convent there. The 
 Sisters told us of the day when the fighting was near them, and the balls 
 were whistling up the street. The children they taught were all in class, but, 
 as the Sister Superior remarked, 'they could not attend to their lessons,' so 
 the shutters were closed to prevent the balls coming in, and they tried to 
 amuse the poor little things. Imagine the difficulty of playing a children's 
 game, with shot and shell falling around Tliey told us a sad tale, too, which 
 we heard confirmed in the villages named. The combat commenced around 
 Ledon on the 24th October, but neither party seems to have gained a 
 decided advantage, and the Prussians encamped at a little distance from 
 Lorcy, which is four miles from Ledon and four miles farther from Orleans. 
 
 On the 25th a peasant went to the French commandant at Ledon and 
 told him that there were only a couple of hundred Prussians at Lorcy. 
 Seventeen moimted Chasseurs d'Afrique and three himdred infantry 
 instantly started for that place. The Prussians were there; not two hundred, 
 as the peasant said, but between two and three thousand. The poor French 
 fought with all the courage of despair, fifteen German officers were killed 
 and nearly five hundred men, but at last the French were obliged to 
 surrender. They were summoned to do so, and to throw down their arms; 
 resistance was hopeless, and they did lay down their arms, and gave 
 themselves up prisoners. Then came a scene which surely is a disgrace to 
 the German name: helpless and disarmed, they were made to kneel down, 
 the poor wounded remnants of that gallant band, a file of Prussian soldiers 
 was marched in front of them, a volley was fired, and all was over. They 
 had dared to fight as brave men should, in an unequal contest, and they 
 paid the penalty with their lives. But the story will never be forgotten by 
 those who saw the execution, and before long the place of their burial will 
 be marked by some memorial of their sad fate. 
 
 We drove back through several villages, all showing traces of war, to 
 Chateauneuf. Here we found a very good hotel but lately evacuated by the 
 Germans; and the landlady showed us into a room, apologising for its 
 being not yet in order, for a mechamc was repairing the locks of the 
 drawers, which had been forced open with tlieir swords by the Prussian
 
 294 THE LOIRET. 
 
 officers who had lodged in that room, and everything had been plundered. 
 There had been no resistance in Chateauneuf, and this had been done since 
 the Armistice. W Wist our dinner was prepariiig we tried to get the workman 
 into a chat, but he was exceptionally silent and, as it seemed, sulky. At last 
 he unbent. Our sympathy with the poor people of the district was too 
 evident not to win his confidence, and he told us his tale. It came out in 
 short sentences, with long iiitervals of silence between. He had been a 
 soldier in early life, and when his time of service expired, became a 
 wl-iitesmith* in a village hard by; being married, with one yOLing cliild, he 
 had not been drawn in the first levies. Many Prussians were quartered on 
 him at one time. They ate and drank all he had. He had not even bread to 
 give liis wife and child; but a sergeant, who saw the state to which they 
 were reduced, insisted on his men sharing their rations with tlie family. 
 'We lived like brothers,' said the poor fellow; 'he was a good man, Prussian 
 though he was. I pray God to bless him. It was tlirough him we did not die 
 of starvation.' 
 
 He went on to say that he was drawn in the last levy; but before he 
 joined, the second taking of Orleaiis occurred, and he went back to his 
 ruined home. He found liis wife there, and his only child dying. There was 
 nothing to give them; no food, no medicine, no help, for the enemy were all 
 around, and 'at even the child died.' They laid the body decently on the 
 only mattress left them, and covered it with the poor fellow's coat. But that 
 night more Prussians came by, and demanded food, and fire, and lodging. 
 Of the first two there was none, the last was there, but no beds, only that 
 one mattress with its sacred burden. But even this was not respected; the 
 body of the child was tlung out into the roadway, and a Prussian soldier 
 threw himself down upon tlie mattress. The father took up the corpse of his 
 child, and as he carried it in his arms to the woods hard by, where at least 
 its bed of dry leaves would not attract a Prussian soldier, he swore a deep 
 oath of vengeance, and when the French cross the Rhine (and the day may 
 come, for none can tell what is in the future), that oath will be fearfully 
 kept. 
 
 As he took up his basket of tools with a stern, sad, absent air, we looked 
 at his white, fixed face and the pitiless expression round his set lips, and 
 said to each other, 'God forbid we should be Germans in a German village 
 when that man comes by, on his way to Berlin!' He touched his cap gravely, 
 'Good evening, Mesdames; you are kind, you can feel for us. It was my 
 ortly child,' and so left the room. Many such a tale can be told. The 
 
 * Tinsmith.
 
 THE LOIRET. 295 
 
 Germans have sown the wind, they will reap the whirlwind; and none 
 know this better than their leaders. France must be utterly crushed, that the 
 day of vengeance for 1870-71 may never dawn; but she has a power of 
 elasticity left that may defy them yet. 
 
 We returned next day to Orleaiis. A visit to Coulmiers concluded our 
 work in the Loiret. We saw the battle-field where the only real French 
 victory of the war was won which had any important results, for it was 
 after this battle that Orleans was evacuated by the Germans, and the 
 chateau which had been the head-quarters of Von der Tann. Like all others 
 it had been completely pillaged. We heard here from the peasants who had 
 buried the dead, that the German killed and wounded were that day six to 
 one of the French. Wherever we went this was the case, and during our 
 excursion to Artenay and Beaune we were shown a farm near Artenay, 
 called 'Arblay,' where the Germans had burned their dead, as at Andeglou. 
 We saw where a huge pile of wheat-straw and human remains had been; 
 the charred relics were still left there. It was in the midst of a courtyard 
 surrounded by farm buildings. It burned for two days, and when the 
 farmer, who had gone into Orleans, returned to his farm to see what he 
 could save, he found smoke and flames ascending from the courtyard, but 
 was prevented from entering it by German sentinels. We heard of several 
 similar cases in various villages. That it was not done from sanitary motives 
 is evident by the fact that very few French were missing; most of those 
 absent from their regiments were accounted for. They were buried on the 
 field, taken into Ambulance, or sent away prisoners; besides, the buttons 
 and scraps of singed clothing found were all German. There is no doubt it 
 was done to conceal their losses, especially as the fact is not recorded, I 
 believe, in any of their medical or military reports, and was indignantly 
 denied by those in our Ambulance, till we produced convincing evidence in 
 portions of the charred remains, buckles, buttons, and other little proofs of 
 our statement. We have these things still. 
 
 Our work was now done, and we prepared to leave; but before 
 concluding this simple relation of our experiences in the war, I will add a 
 few words as to the domestic state of Orleans in that sad time. The 
 inhabitants were well aware that to have soldiers quartered upon them was 
 the fate of war; but they did feel it hard that there were no rules as to what 
 quantity of meat and wine they must be furnished with, and that no 
 complaints of excess ever met with any redress. How hopeless complaint 
 was, may be seen from the fact that a lady presented herself before the 
 Commandant de Place, to request that some orders might be given to the 
 soldiers in her house to conduct themselves with common decency. His
 
 296 THE LOIRET. 
 
 answer was, 'Madame, you appear to forget that you are lodging with the 
 Prussians, not the Prussians witli you. If you do not like your hosts, you 
 can leave.' The requisitions for forage made on the villagers were ruinous; 
 not only was sufficient taken to supply the daily wants of the cavalry and 
 train horses, but the demaiid was only limited by the supply, and all was 
 carried off for future use. Tlie same with stores of wine, flour, potatoes, rice, 
 and groceries. Notliing was left, and too often clothes useless to the 
 soldiery, were cut into ribands, whilst every little ornament was taken to 
 send as a present to some German fair oiie, and furniture was recklessly 
 burned for firewood. 
 
 It was not only the soldiers but the officers who acted with positive 
 ciishonesty. There seemed to be an utter demoralisation amongst them. 
 Two instances may here be given. A colonel was quartered in the house of 
 a retired officer of good family in Orleans. He lived with the gentleman and 
 his daughter on the most friendly terms; they gave him up tlie salon for his 
 sleepiiig apartment, and treated him as an honoured guest. In the salon was 
 a secretaire,* locked, and the key in the possession of the old officer. This 
 secretaire contained family papers and some jewels of value. After the 
 departure of the German colonel tlie officer iiispected the secretaire; it was 
 apparently untouched. He opened it; it was empty! The mystery was soon 
 explained; for, by a strange mischance, the colonel had omitted to search his 
 room for anything he had forgotten to pack up, and there, imder his 
 mattress, was an instrument for picking locks. A German Catholic chaplain 
 was quartered Lri the humble presbytery of the Cure of Les Aydes, a suburb 
 of Orleans. Will it be credited, yet it is strictly true, that the reverend 
 gentleman actually robbed l"iis poor host, his brother priest, of all his linen 
 and clothes, and carried away sundry small articles which he found about! 
 
 It is a well-known fact that many officers, as well as privates, had with 
 them complete sets of housebreaking instruments, whilst a number of Jews 
 followed the army, imder pretext of selling tobacco, and bought the 
 plunder from the thieves. I doubt if Frenchmen would have condescended 
 to this meanness. The loss of the papers and jewels will form the subject of 
 a suit at Berliii for tl^eir restitution, as well as tlie little bill of 8,000 francs for 
 extras which Prince Frederick Charles ran up at Montargis, and forgot to 
 pay. Story after story of this kind could be related. The dishonest 
 propensities of the Germans, their enormous appetites, their love of 
 comfort, and their entire disregard of decency in their habits, will remain 
 impressed on the minds of the French as the leading characteristics of their 
 invaders. 
 
 Writing desk with drawers.
 
 THE LOIRET. 297 
 
 With the coming of peace our Ambulance was broken up — the still 
 uncured men being sent to the hospitals of their depots, whilst the rest and 
 the Infirmiers rejoined their regiments. The German doctors and Infirmiers 
 left early in March, and Matthias returned to his convent. The 'Wandering 
 Jew' said he should close the Ambulance. To this we demurred. It had been 
 opened before his coming; it should be continued after his departure. Tliey 
 had all been there on sufferance, and because we were glad of their 
 services; but they could neitlier open nor close an English Ambulance. M. 
 de Capes sent us in some fresh French wounded from private houses, now 
 cleared of their patients, and tlie Ambulance remained open till late in 
 April, though we left on the 28th of March. Tlie good Bishop, who in 
 February had been elected a Deputy,* was at Versailles, but sent us a warm 
 letter of tlianks... Wliat the state of Orleans was during that wretched 
 winter may be judged from a few statistics. It is a town of 50,000 
 inhabitants. Over 50,000 troops were quartered there at intervals, for two or 
 three days at a time, whilst the permanent garrison was 10,000 men; but the 
 passing and repassing of large bodies of soldiers often swelled this number, 
 and during the months of December and January there were more than 
 30,000 wouitded in the city, the majority Germans. There were 360 
 Ambulances in private houses, none with less than six men in them, many 
 with 20 or 30, and besides these, every barrack and public building, every 
 convent and manufactory, were converted into hospitals. Four hundred 
 Sisters of various orders were employed nursing the wounded, besides a 
 staff of ladies of Orleans, and some Protestant Deaconesses with the 
 Hessian corps d'armee. In the large buildings from 200 to 400 wounded were 
 received at one time. The Eveche, three churches, the college, the seminary, 
 were all Ambulances. The Hotel-Dieu and the Caserne St. -Charles were 
 reserved for small-pox cases, of which there were 4,000 at one time during 
 the winter, including civilians. Typhus and scarlet fever were also terribly 
 prevalent. 
 
 Several German papers unblushingly propagated the falsehood that the 
 German wounded were ill treated, even mutilated, in the Ambulances of 
 Orleans. This was positively and indignantly denied in a letter from the 
 German General in command. The chief medical Inspector bore witness 
 that 'in no place were the German woimded so well treated.' One German 
 officer told the Bishop that he felt such false assertions dishonoured his 
 country. Another wrote to Monseigneur Dupanloup, 'We cannot go on 
 making war as we are doing now.' A most emphatic denial was given in a 
 
 * A member of the National Assembly, the lower house of the French parliament. He was elected 
 for a five-year term by male suffrage, introduced in 1848: women did not get the vote until 1944.
 
 298 THE LOIRET. 
 
 letter published by the Bishop. Hardly treated as were the people of 
 Orleans, no single act of imkindness, far less cruelty, has been proved 
 against any one of them. And yet they were hardly treated. It was said by 
 the Commandant de Place that a quarrel had taken place in a very low 
 house, between a German soldier and a citizen of Orleans, and that the 
 soldier had been stabbed. Prince Frederick Charles imposed a fine of 
 600,000 francs on the city for this murder. The authorities offered to prove 
 that no such event had taken place, and requested an inquest on the body. 
 The body was never produced, and all enquiry into the matter refused. 
 There was not one word of truth in the statement, but the fine had to be 
 paid, and the transaction left a feeling of uncertainty as to the probability of 
 the proceeding being repeated whenever Prince Frederick Charles fell short 
 of readv money. He was the most unpopular of all tlie German 
 commanders, and women used the name of the Red Prince to frighten their 
 rebellious children. He was decidedly the Ogre of the War, but as we never 
 received from himself and his staff any thing but kindness and good-will, it 
 would be a very imgracious act on our parts to repeat the many tales we 
 heard to his disadvantage. 
 
 Besides money, perpetual requisitions were made in kind. Once, 
 leather enough for 100,000 pair of half-boots!* or money to the same value. 
 Nothing could be more crushed and miserable than the population of this 
 town under the Prussian rule, and the harshness had its usual recoil — the 
 victims had resort to a system of deceit, for self-preservation, in itself 
 destructive of all fair dealing. To cheat a German was a justifiable, nay, 
 further, a praiseworthy act, and the old example of 'spoiling the 
 Egyptians' t was quoted in proof of its having the sanction of Scripture; but 
 here and there a singular trait of honesty cropped up. 1 met a peasant 
 woman in a bookseller's shop, buying a German grammar of the most 
 puzzling description. 'Why do you buy that?' I asked; 'why not have one 
 of these simple phrase-books? They give you all necessary to know when 
 soldiers are quartered in your house.' 'Madame' she replied gravely, 'that 
 is not what I want. I have a little boy of eight years old. I must teach him 
 German.' 'But why?' I asked. "Because, Madame, the Prussians have stolen 
 everything I had in the world, and when our soldiers go to Berlin, my boy 
 may be old enough to go with them, and then (as I am honest) I should 
 wish him to take from some poor place like ours, only just what they took 
 from us; so he must know German well.' 
 
 * Reaching half-way to the knee. 
 
 t "Ye shall spoil the Egyptians" — Exodus 3:22
 
 THE LOIRET. 299 
 
 This cool, determined spirit of revenge will be more dangerous to the 
 peace of Europe, in futtire years, cultivated as it is in the rising generation, 
 than all the passionate threats of the present one. The French of twenty 
 years hence may be a sadder and a wiser people. Taught by the follies, the 
 madness, and the misfortunes, of the France of the Second Empire, they 
 may avoid the errors which brought about the ruin of their country; but one 
 thing they will never learn — to forgive the Germans. One of the Grand 
 Vicars said to us, 'Yes, it is true we hated the English nation as a nation, 
 though we loved and esteemed individuals; but we, have changed our 
 hatred now, and Waterloo is forgotten in Sedan.' It has become a sacred 
 duty to detest the Prussians, and to train up the young in this spirit. Even 
 the priests share in this feeling, and look forward, and lead their flocks to 
 do so too, to the time when victory on tlie other shore of the Rhine shall 
 efface the disgrace and humiliation of this war. 
 
 It must be confessed, too, that the insolent manner of the Germans, 
 their boasts and threats, stimulated this evil feeling. The noblest and the 
 gentlest natures were stung by it into deep resentment. One of the Abbes in 
 Orleans is a man renowned for the sanctity of his life and the eloquence of 
 his preaching. He is the head of a college for junior boys, intended for the 
 Grand Seminaire. He himself told me that on one occasion, accompanied 
 by a servant, he went to the forest, to cut wood for the fires in his house, 
 which he had made into an Ambulance. At the entrance of the wood he 
 met a young German officer, who stopped and insulted him in the grossest 
 way. The Abbe turned to him, saying in German, 'You ought to be more 
 courteous, sir, to a fallen foe. You are the victors now; but tlie day may 
 come when we, in our tvim, shall stand in the position you hold now, lords 
 of an invaded country. You have taught us lessons we shall not forget. 
 From tl^e seed you have sown, a bitter harvest shall be reaped. Yes, sir, in 
 ten years' time, I shall accompany our army across the Rhine. 1 myself — 
 and why? To plead with the avengers, for your wives and your children, to 
 save your homes from fire and pillage, to tell our soldiers that the noblest 
 revenge will then be to show how victories caii be won, and yet the laws of 
 God and man be respected.' The German ttirned sulkily away, saying, 
 'Don't trouble yourself, old gentleman; I shall never live to see that.' 'No, 
 you will not,' answered the Abbe; 'you will leave your bones here in 
 France, to fertilise the soil you have invaded. I shall go to tell your 
 countrymen how the graves of those who sleep in France are respected, 
 even by their enemies!' and raising his hat, he walked off. The officer died, 
 and was buried in Orleans about a month afterwards.
 
 300 THE LOIRET. 
 
 Many a time it has been difficult for us to suppress our feelings of 
 indignation, at being told by Prussian officers, that they all looked forward 
 to the day when they should invade and conquer England; that it was a 
 thing arranged already, when Holland and Belgium were added to the 
 German Empire, and that the quarrel would begin about Heligoland* They 
 did not speak of our nation with the insolent contempt with which they 
 treated the French, but with an amount of jealousy and hatred that they 
 could not conceal. They told us, too, tiiat the wonderful system of 
 espionage which had been carried on for years in France was being 
 practised in England.t It is a fact that they had plans of every house and 
 garden in Orleans, even of the convent where we were, and knew the way 
 up the path and through the paddock to Ste. -Marie, before they had seen it 
 in reality. A party of Uhlans entered a brewer's office in Orleans. He gave 
 them beer; but one, raising his helmet, said, 'Don't you know me. 
 Monsieur? Give us some of tlie good beer in cellar five.' It was his head 
 clerk, who had left about two years ago! 
 
 For five years a shepherd lived in a small farmhouse close by one of the 
 great forts near Paris. There he kept the sheep, and led the hard life of a 
 peasant. It was an engineer officer who in this disguise took maps of the 
 fort and the country around. Instance after instance could be adduced of 
 men who had passed years as clerks, servants, and tutors in various 
 families, coming back to the places where they had resided at the head of 
 the Uhlans, sent on before the main body of the army. No wonder the 
 French desire to expel every German from their land.^ If would be well if 
 England would make sure, that in her peaceful homes, in her busy 
 warehouses, in farmhouse or lordly hall, she is not nursing vipers tliat may 
 turn round and sting her. We heard and knew so much of this system and 
 its terrible results that we never hear of German servants, or even 
 governesses, without a fear that their master's secrets are being recorded at 
 Berlin — the amount of his property and the value of his plate. 
 
 * Helgoland, a tiny island at the mouth of the Kiel Canal. Since 1807 it had been occupied by the 
 British. In 1890 they ceded Helgoland to Germany in return for Zanzibar. 
 
 t The great communist thinker Frederick Engels twice fled to England, but he frequently had to 
 move from house to house in Manchester to evade Prussian spies, until he had success as a 
 businessman, enabling him to support Karl Marx. 
 
 ? The German Government had, for both political and military purposes, an organisation of over 
 20,000 paid informers in France, all controlled by one Wilhelm Stieber. A valet was assigned to 
 French Vice-President Jules Favre when he came to Versailles to negotiate the surrender of Paris. 
 The valet, who went through his master's pockets and despatch cases daily to collect valuable 
 information for Bismarck, was Stieber himself.
 
 THE LOIRET. 301 
 
 But it is time to conclude this simple sketch of our life in an invaded 
 country. A few passing remarks I would make as regards ourselves 
 personally. We had to lament the death in our Ambulance at Ste.-Marie of 
 the young German student I named as Dr. Kroner's assistant. He caught 
 the small-pox, and died of it, after an illness of four days. He received from 
 Mere St. -Joseph and her Sisters the kindest and tenderest of nursing, and 
 was buried with military honours only a few days before the peace was 
 signed. With the coming in of peace we received our letters and papers, 
 and found Dr. Pratt had not sent his promised apology to the 'Times.' He 
 called at our request, and promised to do it. He left next day for Paris, and 
 it has remained undone; but the full and truthful statement we have made 
 will quite explain the state of the case as it stands between ourselves and 
 the National Committee, and we leave the verdict to the justice of our 
 countrymen and women. If only the National Society had aided us out of 
 their ample resources, we might, indeed, have done in Orleans a work tliat 
 would have made their names honoured not only in the city, but 
 throughout France itself. As it is, the deep gratitude and the public thanks 
 which have been bestowed upon us are given to ourselves alone; but as 
 Englishwomen we feel that we share those thanks with all who bear the 
 English name. Many gave us substantial aid, many more, true sympathy 
 and hearty prayers for our welfare; and much of our safety and success 
 was, under Providence, owing to the Union-Jack that floated bravely over 
 our Convent home. 
 
 Our tale has been a sad yet a true one We saw the domestic horrors of 
 war, and turned in sadness from its so-called glories. We looked on happy 
 homes, ruined and desolated, on the fair land of France laid waste, and we 
 heard the mourning and lamentation for the dear ones fallen in fight, or led 
 away captives to a strange land. But we sorrowed most of all, over the 
 demoralisation of character in two great nations — a demoralisation which 
 has stamped its ineffaceable brand on the men who fought in the 
 campaigns of 1870-71, and which will be handed down to the next 
 generation: the brand of licentiousness, brutality, dishonesty, 
 imtruthfulness, hatred, and revenge. May God in His mercy save England 
 from things like these, for He alone can guard us in the hour of danger, 
 national or personal. We trust and believe that when the storm-clouds are 
 gathering as now around us, "The Lord shall give strength to His people: 
 the Lord shall give His people the blessing of peace.' 
 
 '* 
 
 * Psalm 29: 11.
 
 Principal Places Mentioned 
 
 Luxemboun 
 Sedanl+la^ 
 
 ^Wasserbillig 
 
 Saar- 
 
 Grandpr^A '^""AMetz brQcken 
 Paris ReimsG Qp^ve-oO ^CLwissem- 
 
 ChateaudunTFo '-"-^« ^^^^^ ganif -"'^ 
 CoulmiersQ|chevilly ^ancy 
 
 _ o'orl^ans 
 
 TOUrS_ ^Beaugenc; ' 
 
 Crosses mark the location of the two main Ambulances in which the 
 authors served. The map is not to scale. Because it is small many of 
 the villages that they passed through cannot be included. Places in 
 the south of France are named as an aid to orientation.
 
 Timeline 
 
 Page 
 
 Adventures 
 
 1 The National Society is formed. [It will 
 become the British Red Cross in 1905] 
 
 It sends the authors to France for nursing 
 duty; Prince Pless will give them orders at 
 the Prussian King Wilhem's headquarters. 
 
 2 After crossing the Channel to Ostend... 
 8 and through Luxembourg to Saarbruck. . . 
 32 they reach Ste. Marie-aux-Chenes. . . 
 
 where they nurse Gravelotte's wounded. 
 55 They head for the King's HQ in Chalons. 
 63 But the King speeds off to the battlefield. 
 68 From Grandpre the authors' party follow. . . 
 76 the Prussian army, passing Beaumont and . . . 
 94 burned corpses at Bazeilles, 2 miles SE of. . . 
 110 Sedan, ending 3 miles W, at Donchery. 
 112 They need to replace stores and cash. 
 1 14 So Emma goes to the Society in London. 
 121 Louisa works with Dr. Marion Sims' 
 
 Anglo-American Ambulance in Sedan. 
 124 Emma returns seriously ill and is nursed 
 
 back to health by Louisa. 
 141 They are ordered to Paris with Dr. Pratt, 
 
 the Ambulance having been divided in two. 
 153 At the King's headquarters in Versailles, 
 
 the Ambulance is forbidden to enter Paris. 
 
 Prince Pless orders it to Orleans. 
 165 They go to London for stores for Dr. Pratt. 
 
 167 The British Society refuses to support him. 
 
 168 The ladies get contributions independently. 
 171 They return to France and got to Orleans. 
 184 They join the Bishop of Orleans' ambulance. 
 189 Orleans prepares for defence. 
 
 194 French walking wounded are evacuated. 
 
 207 Battle casualties begin to flood in. 
 
 226 Emma goes for supplies to Garibaldi's HO. 
 
 244 Friend and foe attend midnight mass. 
 
 245 Many evacuated patients freeze to death. 
 249 The Ambulance impresses Louis' general. 
 
 262 The authors meet Prince Louis of Hesse. 
 
 266 Two of their Zouave Infirmiers are arrested. 
 
 267 The Ambulance starts to empty. 
 
 272 The authors visit battlefields in Chevilly... 
 
 285 Chateaudun... 
 
 291 andArtenay. 
 
 297 The ladies leave the Orleans Ambulance. 
 
 Date Franco-Prussian War 
 
 1870 
 
 Aug 4-6 After France's declaration of war on Prussia on July 19, and French Marshal 
 Bazaine's victory at Saarbruck, Gemiany invades. At Wissembourg Crown Prince 
 Frederick, commanding one of three German armies, defeats Marshal MacMahon, 
 pushes him out of Alsace, then surrounds Bazaine's Army of the Rhine in Metz. 
 MacMahon forms the new Army of Chalons and takes command. 
 
 Aug 16 To break through German lines, Bazaine takes a position between St. Pnvat... 
 
 Aug 18 and Gravelotte. He is bloodily defeated. The Germans advance on Chalons. 
 
 Aug 23 Emperor Napoleon III takes MacMahon's army to relieve Bazaine at Metz. 
 
 Aug 27 The Germans move to deflect MacMahon north, to prevent him reaching Metz. 
 Aug 30 The move pays off: Some French troops are caught and defeated at Beaumont. 
 Aug 31 MacMahon obeys orders to shift his army into the fortress city of Sedan. 
 Sep 1 MacMahon is defeated in the Battle of Sedan: 21 ,000 of his men are prisoners. 
 Sep 2 The remaining 83,000 soldiers, together with the Emperor, capitulate at Sedan. 
 Sep 4 Paris mobs force the Legislative Assembly to proclaim the fall of the Empire. 
 Sep 6 As the Third Republic dawns, a Government of National Defence is set up with 
 Sep 7 General Louis Trochu as President and Leon Gambetta as Interior Minister. 
 Sep 1 1 France wants peace, but Prussia demands Alsace-Lorraine, so war continues. 
 
 Sep 19 Two German armies besiege Paris. A government delegation goes to Tours to 
 
 organize provincial resistance. 
 Oct 8 Gambetta escapes Paris by balloon to join the delegation in Tours. 
 
 Oct 1 3 General d'Aurelle de Paladines takes command of the Army of the Loire. He plans 
 to chase General von der Tann's Bavarian Corps back out of Orleans, which was 
 captured on 1 1 October. On 9 November he succeeds. 
 
 Oct 1 9 Chateaudun is ablaze after a full-scale attack on 1 ,200 defenders. 
 
 Oct 27 With Bazaine wounded, his French army of 173,000 men surrenders at Metz. 
 
 Nov 3 
 Nov 12 
 Nov 27 
 Decl 
 Dec 4 
 Dec 14 
 Dec 24 
 Dec 26 
 Dec 28 
 1870 
 Jan 12 
 Jan 28 
 Feb 26 
 Mar 4 
 Mar 8 
 March 
 Mar 28 
 
 All Frenchmen aged 21 to 40 become liable for military service. 
 
 The Army of the Loire is victorious at Coulmiers. 
 
 The French advance, but are forced back at Beaune-la-Rolande. 
 
 The Army of the Loire scores its second, and last, victory at Artenay. 
 
 Orleans is finally taken by the Germans. The Army of the Loire is split m two. 
 
 General Chanzy commands the 1^' Army, mainly civilian. General Bourbaki the 2"^. 
 
 Under bombardment, Parisians verge on stan/ation, eating dogs, cats and rats. 
 
 The Germans rout Chanzy's army at Le Mans, and Bourbaki's at Villersexel. 
 Paris capitulates to the Germans. An armistice is declared. 
 France signs a peace treaty with the newly-proclaimed German Empire. 
 France must pay a huge indemnity and cede Alsace plus a third of Lorraine. 
 
 Paris forms a left-wing Commune. The govemment suppresses it bojtally m May.
 
 000 949 395 
 
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