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My Days of Adventure

E >> Ernest Alfred Vizetelly >> My Days of Adventure




During the few days that we remained at Versailles, we caught glimpses of
King William and Bismarck, both of whom we had previously seen in Paris in
1867, when they were the guests of Napoleon III. I find in my diary a
memorandum, dictated perhaps by my father: "Bismarck much fatter and
bloated." We saw him one day leaving the Prefecture, where the King had
his quarters. He stood for a moment outside, chatting and laughing noisily
with some other German personages, then strode away with a companion. He
was only fifty-five years old, and was full of vigour at that time, even
though he might have put on flesh during recent years, and therefore have
renounced dancing--his last partner in the waltz having been Mme. Carette,
the Empress Eugénie's reader, whom he led out at one of the '67 balls at
the Tuileries. Very hale and hearty, too, looked the King whom Bismarck
was about to turn into an Emperor. Yet the victor of Sedan was already
seventy-three years old. I only saw him on horseback during my stay at
Versailles. My recollections of him, Bismarck, and Moltke, belong more
particularly to the year 1872, when I was in Berlin in connexion with the
famous meeting of the three Emperors.

My father and myself had kept in touch with Mr. Wodehouse, from whom we
learnt that we should have to apply to the German General commanding
at Versailles with respect to any further safe-conducts. At first we were
informed that there could be no departure from the plan of sending us out
of France by way of Epernay, Reims, and Sedan, and this by no means
coincided with the desires of most of the Englishmen who had come out of
Paris, they wishing to proceed westward, and secure a passage across the
Channel from Le Hâvre or Dieppe. My father and myself also wanted to go
westward, but in order to make our way into Brittany, my stepmother and
her children being at Saint Servan, near Saint Malo. At last the German
authorities decided to give us the alternative routes of Mantes and Dreux,
the first-named being the preferable one for those people who were bound
for England. It was chosen also by my father, as the Dreux route would
have led us into a region where hostilities were in progress, and where we
might suddenly have found ourselves "held up."

The entire party of British refugees was now limited to fifteen or sixteen
persons, some, tired of waiting, having taken themselves off by the Sedan
route, whilst a few others--such as coachmen and grooms--on securing
employment from German princes and generals, resolved to stay at
Versailles. Mr. Wodehouse also remained there for a short time. Previously
in poor health, he had further contracted a chill during our three days'
drive in an open vehicle. As most of those who were going on to England at
once now found themselves almost insolvent, it was arranged to pay their
expenses through the German lines, and to give each of them a sum of fifty
shillings, so that they might make their way Channelwards when they had
reached an uninvaded part of France. Colonel Walker, of course, parted
with as little money as possible.

At Versailles it was absolutely impossible to hire vehicles to take us as
far as Mantes, but we were assured that conveyances might be procured at
Saint Germain-en-Laye; and it was thus that Dr. Russell lent my father his
little omnibus for the journey to the last-named town, at the same time
sending his courier to assist in making further arrangements. I do not
recollect that courier's nationality, but he spoke English, French, and
German, and his services were extremely useful. We drove to Saint Germain
by way of Rocquencourt, where we found a number of country-folk gathered
by the roadside with little stalls, at which they sold wine and fruit to
the German soldiers. This part of the environs of Paris seemed to have
suffered less than the eastern and southern districts. So far, there had
been only one sortie on this side--that made by Ducrot in the direction of
La Malmaison. It had, however, momentarily alarmed the investing forces,
and whilst we were at Versailles I learnt that, on the day in question,
everything had been got ready for King William's removal to Saint Germain
in the event of the French achieving a real success. But it proved to be a
small affair, Ducrot's force being altogether incommensurate with the
effort required of it.

At Saint Germain, Dr. Russell's courier assisted in obtaining conveyances
for the whole of our party, and we were soon rolling away in the direction
of Mantes-la-Jolie, famous as the town where William the Conqueror, whilst
bent on pillage and destruction, received the injuries which caused his
death. Here we had to report ourselves to the German Commander, who, to
the general consternation, began by refusing its permission to proceed. He
did so because most of the safe-conducts delivered to us at Versailles,
had, in the first instance, only stated that we were to travel by way of
Sedan; the words "or Mantes or Dreux" being afterwards added between the
lines. That interlineation was irregular, said the General at Mantes; it
might even be a forgery; at all events, he could not recognize it, so we
must go back whence we had come, and quickly, too--indeed, he gave us just
half an hour to quit the town! But it fortunately happened that in a few
of the safe-conducts there was no interlineation whatever, the words
"Sedan or Mantes or Dreux" being duly set down in the body of the
document, and on this being pointed out, the General came to the
conclusion that we were not trying to impose on him. He thereupon
cancelled his previous order, and decided that, as dusk was already
falling, we might remain at Mantes that night, and resume our journey on
the morrow at 5.45 a.m., in the charge of a cavalry escort.

Having secured a couple of beds, and ordered some dinner at one of the
inns, my father and I strolled about the town, which was full of Uhlans
and Hussars. The old stone bridge across the Seine had been blown up by
the French before their evacuation of the town, and a part of the railway
line had also been destroyed by them. But the Germans were responsible for
the awful appearance of the railway-station. Never since have I seen
anything resembling it. A thousand panes of glass belonging to windows or
roofing had been shivered to atoms. Every mirror in either waiting or
refreshment-rooms had been pounded to pieces; every gilt frame broken into
little bits. The clocks lay about in small fragments; account-books and
printed forms had been torn to scraps; partitions, chairs, tables,
benches, boxes, nests of drawers, had been hacked, split, broken, reduced
to mere strips of wood. The large stoves were overturned and broken, and
the marble refreshment counter--some thirty feet long, and previously one
of the features of the station--now strewed the floor in particles,
suggesting gravel. It was, indeed, an amazing sight, the more amazing as
no such work of destruction could have been accomplished without extreme
labour. When we returned to the inn for dinner, I asked some questions.
"Who did it?" "The first German troops that came here," was the answer.
"Why did they do it?--was it because your men had cut the telegraph wires
and destroyed some of the permanent way?" "Oh no! They expected to find
something to drink in the refreshment-room, and when they discovered that
everything had been taken away, they set about breaking the fixtures!"
Dear, nice, placid German soldiers, baulked, for a few minutes, of some of
the wine of France!

In the morning we left Mantes by moonlight at the appointed hour,
unaccompanied, however, by any escort. Either the Commandant had forgotten
the matter, or his men had overslept themselves. In the outskirts, we were
stopped by a sentry, who carried our pass to a guard-house, where a
noncommissioned officer inspected it by the light of a lantern. Then on we
went again for another furlong or so, when we were once more challenged,
this time by the German advanced-post. As we resumed our journey, we
perceived, in the rear, a small party of Hussars, who did not follow us,
but wheeled suddenly to the left, bent, no doubt, on some reconnoitering
expedition. We were now beyond the German lines, and the dawn was
breaking. Yonder was the Seine, with several islands lying on its bosom,
and some wooded heights rising beyond it. Drawing nearer to the river, we
passed through the village of Rolleboise, which gives its name to the
chief tunnel on the Western Line, and drove across the debatable ground
where French Francstireurs were constantly on the prowl for venturesome
Uhlans. At last we got to Bonnières, a little place of some seven or eight
hundred inhabitants, on the limits of Seine-et-Oise; and there we had to
alight, for the vehicles, which had brought us from Saint Germain, could
proceed no further.

Fortunately, we secured others, and went on towards the village of
Jeufosse, where the nearest French outposts were established. We were
displaying the white flag, but the first French sentries we met, young
fellows of the Mobile Guard, refused for a little while to let us pass.
Eventually they referred the matter to an officer, who, on discovering
that we were English and had come from Paris, began to chat with us in a
very friendly manner, asking all the usual questions about the state of
affairs in the capital, and expressing the usual satisfaction that the
city could still hold out. When we took leave, he cordially wished us _bon
voyage_, and on we hastened, still following the course of the Seine, to
the little town of Vernon. Its inquisitive inhabitants at once surrounded
us, eager to know who we were, whence we had come, and whither we were
going. But we did not tarry many minutes, for we suddenly learnt that the
railway communication with Rouen only began at Gaillon, several leagues
further on, and that there was only one train a day. The question which
immediately arose was--could we catch it?

On we went, then, once more, this time up, over, and down a succession of
steep hills, until at last we reached Gaillon station, and found to our
delight that the train would not start for another twenty minutes. All our
companions took tickets for Rouen, whence they intended to proceed to
Dieppe or Le Hâvre. But my father and I branched off before reaching the
Norman capital, and, after, arriving at Elbeuf, travelled through the
departments of the Eure and the Orne, passing Alençon on our way to Le
Mans. On two or three occasions we had to change from one train to
another. The travelling was extremely slow, and there were innumerable
stoppages. The lines were constantly encumbered with vans laden with
military supplies, and the stations were full of troops going in one and
another direction. In the waiting-rooms one found crowds of officers lying
on the couches, the chairs, and the tables, and striving to snatch a few
hours' sleep; whilst all over the floors and the platforms soldiers had
stretched themselves for the same purpose. Very seldom could any food be
obtained, but I luckily secured a loaf, some cheese, and a bottle of wine
at Alençon. It must have been about one o'clock in the morning when we at
last reached Le Mans, and found that there would be no train going to
Rennes for another four or five hours.

The big railway-station of Le Mans was full of reinforcements for the Army
of the Loire. After strolling about for a few minutes, my father and I
sat down on the platform with our backs against a wall, for not a bench or
a stool was available. Every now and again some train prepared to start,
men were hastily mustered, and then climbed into all sorts of carriages
and vans. A belated general rushed along, accompanied by eager
_aides-de-camp_. Now and again a rifle slipped from the hand of some
Mobile Guard who had been imbibing too freely, and fell with a clatter on
the platform. Then stores were bundled into trucks, whistles sounded,
engines puffed, and meanwhile, although men were constantly departing, the
station seemed to be as crowded as ever. When at last I got up to stretch
myself, I noticed, affixed to the wall against which I had been leaning, a
proclamation of Gambetta's respecting D'Aurelle de Paladines' victory over
Von der Tann at Orleans. In another part of the station were lithographed
notices emanating from the Prefect of the department, and reciting a
variety of recent Government decrees and items of war news, skirmishes,
reconnaissances, and so forth. At last, however, our train came in. It was
composed almost entirely of third-class carriages with wooden seats, and
we had to be content with that accommodation.

Another long and wearisome journey then began. Again we travelled slowly,
again there were innumerable stoppages, again we passed trains crowded
with soldiers, or crammed full of military stores. At some place where we
stopped there was a train conveying some scores of horses, mostly poor,
miserable old creatures. I looked and wondered at the sight of them. "They
have come from England," said a fellow-passenger; "every boat from
Southampton to Saint Malo brings over quite a number." It was unpleasant
to think that such sorry-looking beasts had been shipped by one's own
countrymen. However, we reached Rennes at last, and were there able to get
a good square meal, and also to send a telegram to my stepmother,
notifying her of our early arrival. It was, however, at a late hour that
we arrived at Saint Malo, whence we drove to La Petite Amelia at Saint
Servan.

The latter town then contained a considerable colony of English people,
among whom the military element predominated. Quite a number of half-pay
or retired officers had come to live there with their families, finding
Jersey overcrowded and desiring to practise economy. The colony also
included several Irish landlords in reduced circumstances, who had quitted
the restless isle to escape assassination at the hands of "Rory of the
Hills" and folk of his stamp. In addition, there were several maiden
ladies of divers ages, but all of slender means; one or two courtesy lords
of high descent, but burdened with numerous offspring; together with a
riding-master who wrote novels, and an elderly clergyman appointed by the
Bishop of Gibraltar. I dare say there may have been a few black sheep in
the colony; but the picture which Mrs. Annie Edwardes gave of it in her
novel, "Susan Fielding," was exaggerated, though there was truth in the
incidents which she introduced into another of her works, "Ought We to
Visit Her?" On the whole, the Saint Servan colony was a very respectable
one, even if it was not possessed of any great means. Going there during
my holidays, I met many young fellows of my own age or thereabouts, and
mostly belonging to military families. There were also several charming
girls, both English and Irish. With the young fellows I boated, with the
young ladies I played croquet.

Now, whilst my father and I had been shut up in Paris, we had frequently
written to my stepmother by balloon-post, and on some of our letters being
shown to the clergyman of the colony, he requested permission to read them
to his congregation--which he frequently did, omitting, of course, the
more private passages, but giving all the items of news and comments on
the situation which the letters contained. As a matter of fact, this
helped the reverend gentleman out of a difficulty. He was an excellent
man, but, like many others of his cloth, he did not know how to preach. In
fact, a year or two later, I myself wrote one or two sermons for him,
working into them certain matters of interest to the colony. During the
earlier part of the siege of Paris, however, the reading of my father's
letters and my own from the pulpit at the close of the usual service saved
the colony's pastor from the trouble of composing a bad sermon, or of
picking out an indifferent one from some forgotten theological work. My
father, on arriving at Saint Servan, secluded himself as far as possible,
so as to rest awhile before proceeding to England; but I went about much
as usual; and my letters read from the pulpit, and sundry other matters,
having made me a kind of "public character," I was at once pounced upon in
the streets, carried off to the club and to private houses, and there
questioned and cross-questioned by a dozen or twenty Crimean and Indian
veteran officers who were following the progress of the war with a
passionate interest.

A year or two previously, moreover, my stepmother had formed a close
friendship with one of the chief French families of the town. The father,
a retired officer of the French naval service, was to have commanded a
local Marching Battalion, but he unfortunately sickened and died, leaving
his wife with one daughter, a beautiful girl who was of about my own age.
Now, this family had been joined by the wife's parents, an elderly couple,
who, on the approach of the Germans to Paris, had quitted the suburb where
they resided. I was often with these friends at Saint Servan, and on
arriving there from Paris, our conversation naturally turned on the war.
As the old gentleman's house in the environs of the capital was well
within the French lines, he had not much reason to fear for its safety,
and, moreover, he had taken the precaution to remove his valuables into
the city. But he was sorely perturbed by all the conflicting news
respecting the military operations in the provinces, the reported
victories which turned out to be defeats, the adverse rumours concerning
the condition of the French forces, the alleged scandal of the Camp of
Conlie, where the more recent Breton levies were said to be dying off like
rotten sheep, and many other matters besides. Every evening when I called
on these friends the conversation was the same. The ladies, the
grandmother, the daughter, and the granddaughter, sat there making
garments for the soldiers or preparing lint for the wounded--those being
the constant occupations of the women of Brittany during all the hours
they could spare from their household duties--and meanwhile the old
gentleman discussed with me both the true and the spurious news of the
day. The result of those conversations was that, as soon as my father
had betaken himself to England, I resolved to go to the front myself,
ascertain as much of the truth as I could, and become, indeed, a
war-correspondent on "my own." In forming that decision I was influenced,
moreover, by one of those youthful dreams which life seldom, if ever,
fulfils.



IX

THE WAR IN THE PROVINCES

First Efforts of the National Defence Delegates--La Motte-Rouge and his
Dyed Hair--The German Advance South of Paris--Moltke and King William--
Bourges, the German Objective--Characteristics of Beauce, Perche, and
Sologne--French Evacuation of Orleans--Gambetta arrives at Tours--His
Coadjutor, Charles Louis de Saulces de Freycinet--Total Forces of the
National Defence on Gambetta's Arrival--D'Aurelle de Paladines supersedes
La Motte-Rouge--The Affair of Châteaudun--Cambriels--Garibaldi--Jessie
White Mario--Edward Vizetelly--Catholic Hatred of Garibaldi--The Germans
at Dijon--The projected Relief of Paris--Trochu's Errors and Ducrot's
Schemes--The French Victory of Coulmiers--Change of Plan in Paris--My
Newspaper Work--My Brother Adrian Vizetelly--The General Position.


When I reached Brittany, coming from Paris, early in the second fortnight
of November, the Provincial Delegation of the Government of National
Defence was able to meet the Germans with very considerable forces. But
such had not been the case immediately after Sedan. As I pointed out
previously--quite apart from the flower of the old Imperial Army, which
was beleaguered around Metz--a force far too large for mere purposes of
defence was confined within the lines with which the Germans invested
Paris. In the provinces, the number of troops ready to take the field was
very small indeed. Old Crémieux, the Minister of Justice, was sent out of
Paris already on September 12, and took with him a certain General Lefort,
who was to attend to matters of military organization in the provinces.
But little or no confidence was placed in the resources there. The
military members of the National Defence Government--General Trochu, its
President, and General Le Flò, its Minister of War, had not the slightest
idea that provincial France might be capable of a great effort. They
relied chiefly on the imprisoned army of Paris, as is shown by all their
despatches and subsequent apologies. However, Glais-Bizoin followed
Crémieux to Tours, where it had been arranged that the Government
Delegation should instal itself, and he was accompanied by Admiral
Fourichon, the Minister of Marine. On reaching the Loire region, the new
authorities found a few battalions of Mobile Guards, ill-armed and
ill-equipped, a battalion of sharpshooters previously brought from
Algeria, one or two batteries of artillery, and a cavalry division of four
regiments commanded by General Reyau. This division had been gathered
together in the final days of the Empire, and was to have been sent to
Mezieres, to assist MacMahon in his effort to succour Bazaine; but on
failing to get there, it had made just a few vain attempts to check the
Germans in their advance on Paris, and had then fallen back to the south
of the capital.

General Lefort's first task was to collect the necessary elements for an
additional army corps--the 15th--and he summoned to his assistance the
veteran General de la Motte-Rouge, previously a very capable officer, but
now almost a septuagenarian, whose particular fad it was to dye his hair,
and thereby endeavour to make himself look no more than fifty. No doubt,
hi the seventeenth century, the famous Prince de Condé with the eagle
glance took a score of wigs with him when he started on a campaign; but
even such a practice as that is not suited to modern conditions of
warfare, though be it admitted that it takes less time to change one's wig
than to have one's hair dyed. The latter practice may, of course, help a
man to cut a fine figure on parade, but it is of no utility in the field.
In a controversy which arose after the publication of Zola's novel "La
Débâole," there was a conflict of evidence as to whether the cheeks of
Napoleon III were or were not rouged in order to conceal his ghastly
pallor on the fatal day of Sedan. That may always remain a moot point; but
it is, I think, certain that during the last two years of his rule his
moustache and "imperial" were dyed.

But let me return to the National Defence. Paris, as I formerly mentioned,
was invested on September 19. On the 22nd a Bavarian force occupied the
village of Longjumeau, referred to in my account of my journey to
Versailles. A couple of days later, the Fourth Division of German cavalry,
commanded by Prince Albert (the elder) of Prussia, started southward
through the departments of Eure-et-Loir and Loiret, going towards Artenay
in the direction of Orleans. This division, which met at first with little
opposition, belonged to a force which was detached from the main army
of the Crown Prince of Prussia, and placed under the command of the
Grand-Duke Frederick Francis of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Near this
"Armée-Abtheilung," as the Germans called it, was the first Bavarian army
corps, which had fought at Bazeilles on the day of Sedan. It was commanded
by General von und zu der Tann-Rathsamhausen, commonly called Von der
Tann, _tout court_.

As Prince Albert of Prussia, on drawing near to Artenay, found a good many
French soldiers, both regulars and irregulars, that is Francs-tireurs,
located in the district, he deemed it best to retire on Toury and
Pithiviers. But his appearance so far south had sufficed to alarm the
French commander at Orleans, General de Polhès, who at once, ordered his
men to evacuate the city and retire, partly on Blois, and partly on La
Motte-Beuvron. This pusillanimity incensed the Delegates of the National
Defence, and Polhès was momentarily superseded by General Reyau, and later
(October 5) by La Motte-Rouge.

It is known, nowadays, that the Germans were at first perplexed as to the
best course to pursue after they had completed the investment of Paris.
Moltke had not anticipated a long siege of the French capital. He had
imagined that the city would speedily surrender, and that the war would
then come to an end. Fully acquainted with the tract of country lying
between the Rhine and Paris, he had much less knowledge of other parts of
France; and, moreover, although he had long known how many men could be
placed in the field by the military organisation of the Empire, he
undoubtedly underestimated the further resources of the French, and did
not anticipate any vigorous provincial resistance. His sovereign, King
William, formed a more correct estimate respecting the prolongation of the
struggle, and, as was mentioned by me in my previous book--"Republican
France"--he more than once rectified the mistakes which were made by the
great German strategist.

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