CHAPTER IX.

SUSPICIOUS PRUSSIANS.--THE ILLUSTRIOUS STROMEYER.--OPEN-AIR

TREATMENT.--NEUTRALITY BECOMES DIFFICULT.--DR. SIMS LEAVES US.--UNDER

ARREST.--FAREWELL TO SEDAN.

I forgot to mention a curious story told me by a French soldier, who had

a bullet wound through his arm. To account for it, he said that it had

been received from the pistol of a Prussian horseman, to whom he was in

the act of handing a piece of bread, which the fellow had asked of him.

Could this be true? It seems to me incredible, and, for the honour of

our common humanity, I hope was false.

A strange encounter which one of our new arrivals, Dr. Warren, had with

two Prussian sentinels caused some excitement, and not a little

amusement, among the rest of us. Dr. Warren was returning after dark,

with some arms that he had secured as trophies, and secreted a few days

previously. When he was passing beneath the ramparts a sentinel from

above halted him, and challenged him to give the word. Dr. Warren, who

could then neither speak nor understand French or German, shouted and

made such explanations as he could in English, which it is needless to

observe the sentinel did not comprehend. How unsatisfactory they were to

him our friend was quickly convinced, by the sentry raising his rifle

and firing at his head. He heard the bullet hit the bank close beside

him, and, as it was dusk, the flash revealed two other sentries on their

beat near by, one of whom followed suit; but luckily with no better

success.

A yet more extraordinary method of assault was now resorted to by a

third, who, being conscious, no doubt, of his incompetence as a

marksman, began to hurl large stones over the ramparts at our stranger.

Thus far, Dr. Warren had been standing petrified with astonishment, but

now realising his position he made up his mind to run, which he did at

the utmost speed, for he expected every second to feel a bullet through

him, the only doubt being where he would get hit. He escaped, and the

whole affair was reported to the Prussian commandant. This officer had

two of the sentinels mildly reproved for their excess of zeal, and the

hurler punished in that he had adopted an unsoldierly method of attack.

Dr. Scott suggested to me that this last man must have been by descent

from Tipperary.

Misadventures were in the air just then; for, a morning or two

afterwards, Drs. Parker and Marcus Beck happened to ignite some

cartridges which were lying on the ground near the Hospital, and thereby

caused an explosion. The guard turned out, arrested our two heroes, and

took them before the commandant, who, upon receiving their explanation,

set them at liberty. As time wore on, our relations with the Teutons

became more and more friendly. At first they had looked upon us with

distrust; but, when they found that our organisation was thoroughly

international, that we were independent of the French, and our staff and

management as complete and efficient as they proved, the invaders seemed

to take unusual interest in us. Their surgeons came in numbers to the

Hospital, where, of course, they met with all civility; and we, on our

side, had nothing of which to complain.

Not only so. Their surgeon-general, the great Stromeyer, condescended to

inspect our hospital, and complimenting the Chief on its details and

management, invited him to visit his own Ambulance at Floing. Dr.

MacCormac did so, and was highly pleased with all he saw. The success of

the Prussian surgical operations was very striking. It contrasted most

favourably with our results; but this depended, in great measure, on the

Floing Hospital having been a temporary structure, consisting of

improvised shanties, boarded all round in such a way that the sides

could be opened at will in louvre fashion, so that, weather permitting,

the patients were treated practically in the open air, yet without

subjecting them to chill or exposure. I conceive that this was the

explanation of their low death-rate, for the surgical methods of

procedure were identical with our own. And I may anticipate here a

remark which my experience at Orleans afterwards confirmed, _viz._, that

such open-air treatment is the only effective protection against

blood-poisoning.

This was the first introductory step to our transition from the French

to the German side, but the change was slow and gradual. Hints, indeed,

were constantly thrown out that our services would be well received, if

we followed on in the track of their army. At first we firmly asserted

our neutrality. But we were made to understand that the attitude we had

assumed was impracticable; we must make up our minds to be on one side

or the other. These warnings did much to determine the line of action

upon which we finally resolved. Our movements were also influenced by

the fact that while, as regarded the majority of our staff, our

sympathies were undoubtedly French, yet later on, when we came in

contact with the Prussians, and got to know them thoroughly, the

admiration with which we started for the other side was very much cooled

down. We looked on the belligerents with less prejudiced eyes, and, in

the long run, had no decided leaning one way or another.

In a few days from the time of which I have spoken above, Dr. May was

sufficiently well to resume duty. There was a fresh addition to our

staff in the person of Dr. Sherwell, and our duties becoming less

laborious, suffered us at length to breathe. We could now go down

frequently in the evening, for an hour, either to the Hôtel de la Croix

d'Or, or to a first-rate café in the Rue Napoléon, where it was possible

to enjoy a smoke or a drink, and a game of billiards upon a table

without pockets. This was a great recreation, and I found it did one

good after the labours of the day. There we met the French officers who

were on parole, and not a little surprise did we feel to see them smoke,

drink, and crack jokes as if the capitulation of Sedan were ancient

history. There also we came across the surgeons and assistants of the

Prussian Military Hospitals, many of whom knew French fairly well, and

not a few spoke English. We, however, had to be back again by nine

o'clock, before our drawbridge was taken up; for the standing order had

been issued that any one found in the streets after that hour was liable

to be shot.

On one occasion I happened to be returning with a fellow "Chip," who,

after the labours of the day, had partaken rather too freely of "bock"

and "cognac de café". With no small difficulty I had induced him to

start, and we found the streets dotted with sentries on night-duty.

Hence, every few minutes we were halted, and made to advance until their

bayonets almost touched our shirt-fronts. This would not have made me

nervous, had not my friend, who was a good deal more noisy since he

tasted the open air, objected to being stopped by the sentries in so

rude a fashion. He declined, in short, to account for himself. Fearing

unpleasant consequences, I came forward on the approach of every sentry

and gave the name of our corps, specifying our quarters, and adding

gently, "Mein Freund hat zu viel bock getrunken". They invariably met

the palaver with a laugh, and let us pass on, for some of them knew who

we were. One fellow, either a little more inquisitive than the rest, or

else not recognising our uniforms, put us through a regular examination,

upon which my companion began to speak roughly, and even made a clutch

at his rifle. Fortunately, the sentinel perceived what was the matter,

and was willing to let him pass; but my man wouldn't stir an inch. Here

was a predicament! As he could speak a little German, he used his

knowledge to abuse the good-natured sentry, and when he had come to the

end of his vocabulary, began again in French (of which language he was

perfect master), winding up at last in English. The soldier presented

his rifle, I daresay with the intention of frightening my comrade; and

I thought it time to seize him by the collar and get him along by main

force. Thus we arrived within regulation distance of the gates of the

Citadel.

The bridges were up, and the sentry on duty refused to let us advance

any further. By this time my friend had quieted down, and was beginning

to realise his position; for here we had to wait fully half an hour

while the sentry was hailing the others, who in their turn hailed some

more, and so on, until the officer of the watch came on the scene. His

business was to call out the guard, when, after much shouting,

shuffling, and shouldering of arms, the drawbridge was let down and we

were admitted. I was glad enough to get my obstreperous friend safely

landed within. It was a parlous incident, though my friend's drollery

and witty _sotto voce_ remarks--for he was not really overcome by the

"bock" to the extent of intoxication--have often made me laugh heartily

since.

I have thus brought my readers to the middle of our third week at Sedan;

and it was with feelings of sincere regret that we now bade adieu to Dr.

Marion Sims, who, in so short a space of time, had won the regard of

every member of our staff. He appointed in his place Drs. Frank and

MacCormac as co-surgeons in chief--Dr. Frank for the Balan and Bazeilles

division of our Ambulance, Dr. MacCormac for Sedan.

As our work was growing gradually less, we now had time for a ride

nearly every afternoon. There was one in particular which I enjoyed

much, and often took in company with my friend Hayden. It was from Sedan

to Bouillon, conveying or bringing back the post. This was the only

channel through which we could receive letters from home. Bouillon, as

is well known, is a very picturesque town, about six miles from the

frontier, and twelve from Sedan. The road thither goes through Balan,

Givet, and Givonne, over hills and dales, and through a finely wooded

country, partly lying in the Forest of Ardennes, from which there

stretches a vast succession of woods for twenty or thirty miles. As we

near our destination the road winds circuitously, and turns at last into

the Valley of Bouillon. When I saw it, the autumn colours were all

abroad, and no prospect could be more enchanting. There, beneath us,

nestling amid the foliage, now rich and golden, which clothed its hills,

lay in the noonday sun, the ancient town of Bouillon, through which a

rapid and boiling river, the Somme, flowed over a rocky bed, and was

leaping and dancing round one huge boulder, above which rose the

ivy-mantled turrets of Godfrey's once mighty fortress. The steep and

grassy slopes seemed to come down sheer to the water's edge. It was a

place of sunshine, quiet and secure; and, at first sight, one would have

thought it inaccessible.

I may mention that it was in this little expedition, when passing by

Givonne, that I espied, lying on his side and basking at full length in

the sun, a beautiful black and tan hound, identical in appearance with

the old breed of Kerry beagles. My companion was amused that I could

feel excited about Kerry beagles. But I had my reasons, and I asked the

owner of the house to whom the dog might belong. He replied that it was

the property of a Marquis in the Ardennes, who kept a pack for hunting

deer and wild boars, and he added that probably such a dog would not be

sold under 500 francs. The "Black and Tans" are an old-established pack

in my neighbourhood, with which I have long had very close associations;

and it made my blood run faster to be reminded of them in the

neighbourhood of the Forest of Ardennes, which for the world at large

has other memories, less personal, if more poetic.

Having arrived at our destination, and delivered and received our

letters, we had a good dinner and a smoke. None of my readers can know

the pleasure of a good dinner if they have not lived in a situation like

that which was then allotted to us. We went to see the old castle, with

its corridors hewn out of the solid rock, and its manhole in the parapet

leaning over the river, from which highwaymen and robbers--if not others

less guilty--were hurled into the waters beneath. Lingering about the

place for hours after we ought to have started, the evening came on so

quickly that we shirked the long journey in the dark. We thought it

better to stay the night at Bouillon, and take our chance of getting off

a reprimand by means of this explanation.

At first light next morning we started, but on arriving at the Hospital,

Dr. May, without asking why we had come after time, informed us from the

chief that we must consider ourselves as under arrest until further

notice. This was not exactly pleasant. But we had our work to do, and

there can be no doubt that the strict discipline kept in our Ambulance

was what made it so successful.

Many members of the French Hospital staff, whom I met here and

elsewhere, assured me that jealousy and want of discipline among them

were potent causes of their failure; their supply of material--which was

generally very short--in some cases outlasting the final disruption.

I had one other most interesting expedition, to the Château Bellevue and

along by the hills where the Prussians established their heavy guns on

the First. It commanded the whole valley, and as we looked down upon the

Plateau of Floing, the Bois de Garenne, the slopes of Givonne, and our

hospital standing on its huge embankment above the ramparts of Sedan

between them and us, the only wonder was that a single man of us

remained alive.

It was now time to think of a fresh field for our labours. Dr. Parker

and I were deputed to visit Arlon, a town in Belgium about thirty-five

miles distant, to consult with Capt. H. Brackenbury, who was secretary

to the English Aid Society on the Continent. We made the journey in a

two-horse open carriage by way of Bouillon in about ten hours; and with

such charming scenery, and in agreeable companionship, the journey could

not fail to prove delightful.

On the next day, Sunday, we had an interview with Brackenbury's

secretary, for he was not at home himself; and we then started off again

for Sedan before there was a soul in the streets, so that my

recollections of Arlon do not amount to a great deal.

On our return the staff held a meeting, at which Dr. MacCormac gave in

his resignation as chief in favour of Dr. Pratt (son-in-law to Marion

Sims), who succeeded him. Dr. MacCormac was engaged, as we knew, to

deliver an inaugural address at the Queen's College, Belfast, about the

middle of October; and his pupil, Scott, accompanied him on his

departure. As Dr. Nicholl also wished to return to America, it was

arranged that Wyman and Hewitt should continue with Dr. Frank for some

time before we disbanded, for the Hospital at Bazeilles had to be wound

up with our own. The following members were then selected to proceed to

the front,--our new chief, Dr. Pratt, and Drs. May, Tilghman, Mackellar,

Parker, Warren, Hayden, Sherwell, Wallace, Wombwell, Adams, and myself.

These formed the staff. With us went, of course, Nigger Charlie, and a

Turco named Jean. This Turco had received a bullet in the back at Metz,

during an effort (which proved successful) to get water from a well

which was guarded by a Prussian picket, who had already bowled over four

or five others intent on the same enterprise.

The 4th of October, which was the day appointed for starting, arrived.

We said good-bye to the few patients now remaining, who were to be taken

over by Dr. Frank. Among them was my friend Louis St. Aubin. The poor

fellow on taking leave of me, in his weak state, sobbed like a child,

and I felt equally grieved at having to part from him. We bade farewell

to Dr. MacCormac with much regret; and then the drawbridge was let down,

Dr. Pratt gave the word to start, and the Anglo-American Ambulance made

its exit from the Caserne, slowly wending its way down the rugged path,

_en route_ for Paris.

The first chapter in my experience of a military Hospital, and of the

battlefield, was closed.

With an Ambulance During the Franco-German War Personal Experiences and Adventures with Both Armies, 1870-1871 · 第 9 / 31 章