OUR AMBULANCE RETURNS.--ENTRY OF THE FRENCH.--THEIR DISHEVELLED
APPEARANCE AND DISARRAY.--WE ARE SENT OUT OF THE RAILWAY STATION.
Now that I have given a rough sketch of some of the experiences of Drs.
Parker and Warren, to whom I am indebted for the foregoing particulars,
I must return to our Ambulance cortège, which I left in the moonlight
making its way back to Orleans at the dead of the night.
About an hour after our interview with the General we found ourselves in
the open country, whence we could see the glare in the sky thrown up by
the numerous fires in the French camp which we had just quitted. The
early part of the night had been bright and fine, but ere long we had to
encounter a storm of wind, hail, and rain. For some time we had much
difficulty in picking our way, as the roads were narrow and winding, as
well as rugged. Calling at the few peasants' houses which we passed, in
order to get directions, we found the inhabitants in a frenzy of fear,
and either unwilling or incapable of assisting us. We learned,
subsequently, from the owner of Château Renardier, that they took us for
Prussians, and our French _infirmiers_ for spies. When we had gone past
these scattered dwellings, we came at length on the broad _route
Impériale_, which we needed only to pursue in order to arrive at our
journey's end. Frequent were our surmises as to whether the French or
the Germans, or either, were in occupation of Orleans. After what had
happened that day, and especially as the Army of the Loire seemed to be
making no effort to advance, we could none of us tell what the case
within the city might be. We drew near anxiously, but observed that no
pickets had been set, nor were we challenged by outposts or sentries.
This led us to imagine that the place was no longer in the occupation of
the Germans; for otherwise we never should have come thus far without
being halted by their numerous sentinels. Outposts, we knew, would have
been planted along the roads for miles outside the town by them; whereas
experience told us that the present state of things was not in the least
incompatible with a French occupation, and with French military tactics.
We passed on unmolested until we got to the same gates by which we had
come out that morning. Then, at last, as we entered, the challenge came,
and we were brought to a standstill. We all now tried to catch a
glimpse of the sentry in the darkness; we advanced slowly, and our lamps
revealed a slight, well-built man, in a grey tweed uniform and tan
leather leggings, with a Tyrolese, or kind of wide-awake hat, surmounted
by a feather, set on the side of his head. Clearly this was no German.
With his rifle slung across his shoulder in the most nonchalant manner,
he put his questions to us. Who were we, whence had we come, and whither
were we going? Having satisfied himself upon these points, he leisurely
blew his whistle, and quickly brought to his side about half a dozen men
similarly clad, accoutred and armed. One of these turned out to be an
Englishman, who conversed freely with us, and was most polite, giving
our chief the password. He informed us that they were a body of
Francs-Tireurs, who had come from the country across the Loire, and had
occupied the town a few hours before nightfall. They numbered only a
hundred, and with the exception of a company of Gardes Mobiles, there
were no regulars in the town. On the way to our quarters we were several
times challenged by pickets patrolling the streets, but giving the
password we were allowed to go forward, and so reached our quarters,
thoroughly worn out, at three in the morning.
Dr. Sherwell and Mr. Adams were immediately sent to the Hospital to
relieve Parker and Warren, who came back to the Quai du Châtelet and
reported the thrilling incidents which had happened while we were away,
some of which I have endeavoured to set down above. We were given only a
brief interval for sleep. At an early hour we had to be up and about the
Hospital, dressing and attending to the wounded, who had suffered
considerably in our absence, not so much from lack of surgical aid, as
from want of food and drink. For all the military nurses had been drawn
away; and the onerous task of giving them food and looking after them
had devolved on Parker and Warren, a duty which, in spite of all
difficulties, they did their utmost to fulfil. Much credit is due to
these gentlemen for their brave and noble conduct upon that memorable
day. By their coolness and determination they made all safe for their
helpless patients, and protected them from the violence, which might
easily have gone to great excess, of the rabble of Orleans.
About ten o'clock on the morning of the 10th, Mackellar, Wallace, and
our acting chief, Dr. Tilghman, went out with their waggons to the
battlefield about Coulmiers and Baccon, and picking up some thirty-three
badly-wounded men brought them into the city. We were much distressed to
hear from them, how, on going over the battlefield, one of the first
bodies which met their gaze was that of a young Bavarian surgeon, who
used to work with us at the railway terminus when we first came. The
poor fellow lay on his back, his face turned up, stripped of his boots
and trousers, which no doubt had been appropriated by some plundering
Frenchman, who was in need of both. It is incidents like this which
bring home to one the horror and the waste of war.
That same morning, when business required me to go through the town, I
was astonished to see the motley collection of French soldiery which had
flocked in from all quarters. It was not their numbers which surprised
me,--I had set eyes on the Grande Armée of Sedan,--but the variety of
uniforms, and the quaint unmilitary get-up of the individuals who
composed this array of M. Gambetta's. Many in the first regiment that
passed along seemed to be half in German and half in French costume. One
fellow had put on a pair of Bavarian trousers and boots, another had a
complete French costume all but his helmet, another German sidearms and
belt, or a French uniform and a Bavarian plume. The trousers and boots
of the enemy appeared, however, to be in greatest demand. Fully one
third of the new-comers were raw recruits, and little more than boys. To
complete the incongruity of the scene a large _American_ flag was borne
upon a staff as the standard of this regiment, having the words
"Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité" stamped on pennants which hung from each
corner.
One could not help smiling as one watched this miscellaneous rag-tag
collection marching past. We asked one fellow where they were going; he
answered gravely, "To Paris, in order to crush (_écraser_) the Germans".
After these came a regiment of poorly clad boys, looking cold and weary,
as well as homesick. Some of the latter had wooden shoes, in which they
clogged lamely along the pavements, in a slouching style that was by no
means soldierlike. Then followed, by way of a redeeming feature, one of
the regiments of the Line, in which every man bore himself splendidly.
After these, we remarked companies of Francs-Tireurs, and detachments of
the Garde Mobile, who marched along in the haphazard manner of civilians
during a public procession. One youth, possibly a half-witted fellow, or
a volunteer who had joined _en route_, made me laugh heartily. He was
dressed in full Bavarian costume, plume and all, and marched along
bearing a most impassive countenance, quite unaware of the ridiculous
figure he was cutting, in a uniform that was much too big for him, and
in a helmet and plume which no doubt became their original broad-faced
owner, but certainly never were meant to adorn the head of a thin and
sharp-featured Frenchman. How it came about that these fellows were
permitted by their officers, for very shame, to make such a spectacle of
themselves, I did not understand, until an intelligent townsman let me
into the secret of the soldiers' wardrobe, by assuring me that the
men's boots and clothes were made for sale rather than use, and were
all thoroughly rotten.
The excitement and enthusiasm of the townspeople were, as I need hardly
say, beyond description. They rushed about shaking each other by the
hands, and swearing to do terrible things on the Prussians, when their
troops had once got into Germany.
Early in the afternoon, during the entry of the French divisions, no
less amusement than bustle was created at our quarters on the Quai du
Châtelet, by our Turco Jean rushing wildly up the town, in his white
apron and cap, with a rifle in his hand, to meet the regiment of his
fellow-Turcos, which, as some one had told him, was among the arrivals.
He went as on wings to the Place Martroi, and finding that such was
indeed the case, threw himself into the embraces of his companions.
These were also in a fever of excitement. They crowded round the statue
of Joan of Arc, and waving turbans on the points of their bayonets,
yelled as loudly as their throats would suffer them: "Vive l'Empereur! A
bas la République!" Had they been natives they might have been shot for
sedition. In this little episode Jean cut the most ludicrous figure,
entering into the demonstration heart and soul; for like every Turco, he
dearly loved his Imperial master. Even now, when all was over, the Turco
was still his devotedly attached friend, and scorned to conceal his
loyalty towards the man for whom he had fought with such valour and
desperation. It may perhaps be asked whether to introduce these Algerian
barbarians into civilised warfare was not as great a crime as the
employment, during the last century, of Red Indians by the English and
French in North America. Their appearance at the statue of the Maid was
certainly in a high degree picturesque.
I am, of course, incapable of describing the varied scenes of excitement
which greeted the soldiers on every side. How long would such an army
keep its hold on Orleans, I asked myself as I moved about, bewildered by
the seething crowds. Not long, it seemed to me. When later in the day,
every café was crowded with soldiers, they appeared to be feasting
freely in order to make up for past short commons. All seemed
thoughtless, gay, and oblivious of danger. Nor did they care one jot,
apparently, what had become of the Germans. Truly, these French are an
astonishing people!
In my short walk from the Quai du Châtelet I could not have seen less
than ten thousand men, and again I was struck by the contrast between
the soldiers of the two nations. In the stunted and undeveloped make of
these youthful French levies, any observant spectator, though not a
physician, might have beheld the offspring of parents who had overtaxed
their vital energies by dissipation and luxury. Physical degeneration
had set in among the inhabitants, not of the large towns only,--such as
Marseilles, Lyons, and Paris, or Roubaix and St. Étienne,--but in the
rural parts of the country likewise, ever since the days of the
Revolution. Napoléon's wars had consumed the men of France during his
twenty campaigns. But that was not all. I have spoken of the decay of
religion; it was a patent fact; and, with religion, morality had seen
its own influence decline. Legal restrictions on the disposal of
property had given strength to the system, whereby married persons
limited their families according to their means and social position.
That is the undoubted cause of the estrangement between the average
layman and the Catholic clergy that has so long prevailed; for against
this system the clergy have set their faces, as they were bound to do.
With such parents, and especially when their fathers set them the
example, it was not to be wondered at if the growing lads had put away
religion at an early age, and so lost the moral restraint which would
have enabled them to turn out valiant men, sound in mind as in body, and
a match for any Germans. Their sunken eyes and pinched faces, their
whole bearing, indeed, told a very different tale. We were looking on,
in those unhappy days, at the wreck of a population which, in shame and
defeat, was paying the penalty of laws not to be broken with impunity.
So much for the rank and file. As regards the singular want of courage
no less than competency among their officers, it may with truth be
affirmed that one of the main factors, in addition to those already
mentioned, was the total neglect of early training, and the absence of
that physical education which tends to a manly development. This system,
which characterises public school life in England and Germany, and which
results for the most part in a straightforward character, and an
undaunted temper, had not then been introduced into France. It is now
not unknown there, and will perhaps change the disposition of the coming
generations. Many tokens there are to prove that such a change is
greatly needed.
Towards evening equal confusion and consternation was caused by our
receiving an order from the French Commandant to evacuate the railway
station in two days. We were told that we must by that time have all our
wounded taken away. Dr. Tilghman protested that we could not complete
the evacuation of the buildings in less than four days, and we were
allowed the time required, but informed that as traffic would recommence
immediately, our business was at once to clear out of the
stationmaster's and superintendent's offices, which we did forthwith.
On the next morning, the 11th, a long train full of people arrived on
the platform. They were the first passengers we had seen since our
coming to the place. The change now suddenly wrought was wonderful.
Where up to this we had been masters, and where the profound silence had
for a long time been broken only by the chat of the medical staff, or by
the groans and cries of the wounded, we were now jostled about on a
densely crowded platform, and could hardly hear our own voices, so great
were the din and clamour of passengers endeavouring to secure seats in
an outgoing train, or to get their luggage from the one which had just
arrived. I enjoyed the novelty of the thing much, although the shrieking
of railway whistles, and the hissing of the steam-engines were no
pleasant sounds to have continuously in one's ears.
While we remained, I saw numbers of French soldiers going round to the
beds of our wounded Germans and shaking hands with them. These friendly
enemies tried to convey their meaning by signs and gesticulations; they
gave away their tobacco; arranged the beds; and did many other little
acts of kindness, which were received with no less good will by the
Germans. It was a pretty sight. On one matter French and Bavarians
seemed of one opinion, which the latter expressed in their quaint phrase
of "Bismarck Caput". "Caput," that strong man armed undoubtedly had
proved himself to be.
It was whilst standing on the platform awaiting the arrival of a train
when I had finished my Hospital work, that I saw the new Dictator, M.
Léon Gambetta. I knew him at once from the description that had been
given me. He was speaking in low, earnest tones to an elderly gentleman,
a member of the Provisional Government, and when I had surveyed his by
no means elegant form, and caught from beneath a pair of prominent and
bushy eyebrows several glances of his dark piercing eyes, I came to the
conclusion that his appearance was not at all prepossessing. His
military discernment on the day of Coulmiers, which had saved the
Bavarian army from total ruin, I have mentioned in its place. I never
saw him again.
Our chief was now busily engaged looking out for a building, public or
private, in which we could establish our Hospital. After much
difficulty, a large and spacious mansion, belonging to a gentleman named
D'Allaine, was placed by him at our disposal, and thither we determined
to transport our wounded as soon as practicable. The house was situated
off the Place du Grand Marché, behind the Quai du Châtelet;--that being
the old market-place, and one of the most ancient parts of the town. It
had one great advantage; it was only a few minutes' walk from our
quarters. The authorities also put at our disposal the Caserne St.
Charles, a large building across the river. We despatched the greater
part of our invalids into that caserne at once.
The first man to be sent out of the railway station in order to make
room for the traffic was Martin Dilger, the surviving tenant of the
goods-shed, to whose successful battle for life I have already alluded.
His almost miraculous recovery made him better known to my colleagues
than all the rest; and though I had upwards of twenty at that time under
my charge, he commonly went by the name of "Ryan's man". I had taken
particular care of his food, getting him meat, wine, and fruit as I
could, and even that great rarity, a chicken, which latter was not easy
to come at, especially if there happened to be Turcos about, for at
stealing poultry these Africans are worse than foxes. Dilger was quite
strong and merry when I removed him to D'Allaine's house. He showed his
delight and gratitude in every possible way, often alluding to his
condition when in the shed at the railway station; and he had a somewhat
German habit of making me laugh by hiccoughing in order to recall to me
that painful symptom from which he had suffered. He has since written to
me several times, and I will give a specimen of his letters in due
course. The poor fellow had left at home a wife and children, which was
no slight addition to his other troubles.
As great numbers of wounded were being brought into the town, and it was
difficult to find accommodation for them, we hastened to get the Caserne
St. Charles ready, and received into it a large batch of them. These
were principally Germans, sent to us by reason of our previous
association with their armies. When we had got everything here into
working order, conceive our amazement and wrath on hearing that Dr.
Tilghman had been told immediately to evacuate the Barracks! Room was to
be made for the Foreign Legion. There was no alternative; remonstrance
would have been waste of time; and we put our hand to this fresh and
most provoking move. While it was being carried out, as the wounded must
be taken to our Hospital at D'Allaine's, Dr. Parker and I were busily
employed in transporting them across the town, using for this purpose
every available conveyance. Thus we were compelled by the French
authorities to take out of their beds, as best we could, men in dire
agony, some even at the door of death, and all severely wounded.
I could not recall without pain the details of the scenes which
accompanied their transportation. As I have said, their wounds were all
of the gravest character; some were mortal, the majority were
amputations, and the remainder compound fractures, or severe lacerated
shell wounds. To shake the bed of many of these patients, or even to
move them gently, was to cause them acute suffering. One may imagine the
agony of these brave fellows when they were hauled out on their
mattresses and put, two or three together, into a cart or waggon, which,
no matter how carefully driven, had to jostle them along the weary
streets to their place of destination.
I went successively into several of the waggons where some of the worst
cases were, and did all in my power to mitigate their dreadful pains;
but, in spite of everything I could do, they moaned most piteously as
the wheels bumped over any roughness in the pavement. I thought a bullet
through the heart was preferable to such agony as they endured. Even to
look on at it was too much.
About 18th November, we had completely evacuated the Station. The last
batch consisted of those who had been lying in the refreshment rooms,
and, as these apartments were not required by the railway officials,
they did not oblige us to remove our wounded in such precipitous haste.
Every day fresh supplies of wounded were being brought in; and not only
every available nook and corner in our Hospital was occupied, but also
many of the neighbouring houses. It was, however, expressly forbidden by
the public authorities that any house should harbour the military,
whether wounded or not, unless a declaration of their presence had been
made, and leave obtained.
Our work was now very heavy and our energies tasked to the utmost.
Besides the evil of overcrowding, we had to contend against the
innumerable difficulties consequent on our having been ordered about
from one place to another without notice, or sufficient time to make
preparations for departure. Then upon getting into our new quarters we
had to re-establish our culinary and commissariat departments, on which
everything depended, as well as to re-organise the system of Hospital
management, and put the whole into working order. Until this was
effected (which would take about a week) our whole day's work was
nothing but a scramble from morning till night. Our chief was completely
distracted from constantly receiving orders to have certain things done,
and then (as in the case of the Caserne St. Charles) just when he had
accomplished them, and was settled down, getting fresh orders
countermanding the first. All this was thoroughly French,--at least, it
was quite in accordance with our experience of their system.
For the first few days after the return of the French, the revelry and
rejoicings of the townspeople were excessive. From the appearance of the
streets, the bustle, and the dense crowds, one would have thought that
some great festival was being celebrated. It was astonishing to hear
these people talk and boast of their glorious victory of Coulmiers--the
first they had gained, and, as it was to prove, also the last. But it
would sadden the heart of any lover of France to witness these
frivolities, these humiliating follies of her vain-glorious and
light-hearted citizens, who never seemed to think seriously of anything,
no matter how grave the issue.
Soon, however, the bustle in the streets subsided, and the military
became comparatively few in number; many had gone to the front. But
there was an evident intention of making a stand at Orleans, should the
main body of the army be compelled to fall back again. I saw hundreds of
men hard at work erecting barricades and earthworks across the
faubourgs; while trenches and rifle pits were cut in all directions
through the vineyards which lay about the suburbs of the town. An order
was issued by the Commandant to leave the tall vine stakes standing, so
that they might hinder the progress of the enemy, should they re-invest
the place. If I may be allowed to anticipate, these very stakes were a
most serious impediment to their own retreat before the Germans during
the following month. Wherever they are abundant in vine-growing
districts they make the country impervious both to cavalry and
artillery, and form a splendid ambuscade for infantry troops in action.
But the disadvantages of them from another point of view seem to have
been overlooked.
It was a source of deep regret to me, during this campaign, that I was
not better posted on military matters; for, had I been acquainted even
with the rudiments of war tactics, the numerous and important military
operations which were carried on immediately under my observation would
have been intelligible to me without the aid of an expert, and that
blank which now must be left in this slight record might have been
filled up with many most interesting details.
The few convalescents who had acted as our _infirmiers_ and attendants,
and with whom we had been working the Hospital since the evening of the
8th,--at which time, as the reader will not have forgotten, all our
regular nurses and _infirmiers_ were drawn away for active service--were
now sent off to Pau as prisoners of war. This we thought unwise and
intolerable; but it was done in spite of remonstrances on our part that
such dealing was nothing less than a violation of the Geneva Convention.
What did we get in their place? Simply a scratch company of French
_infirmiers_, whom we had much difficulty in knocking into shape, and
whom we found by no means so ready to submit to discipline as had been
their German predecessors. One of the new arrivals was a little fellow
named Jack, by birth a native of Flanders, but who had been all his life
on board a ship in the British Merchant Service, and who had had the
top of a finger shot off. He had joined the Foreign Legion, not, as he
told us, from any liking for war or for France, but in order to be with
an old companion who had joined that corps. He was quite a little dwarf,
and unsuited to hospital work; but his superiors, deeming him, I
daresay, no great ornament to his regiment, had handed him over to us as
an _infirmier_. Besides his native language, he spoke English, French,
and German fluently, and professed to be able to converse in Spanish and
Italian. This might have been of service to us in an emergency; but the
following anecdote will show what a treasure we had got in our Fleming.
One night Dr. Mackellar and I were on duty with Jack when a case of
extensive contusion (with compound fracture of the leg) began to bleed;
and Mackellar came to the conclusion that immediate amputation was the
only course possible. We therefore set about removing the limb. Dr.
Mackellar operated, and I assisted and gave chloroform, while Jack was
to hand the sponges, carbolised water and other requisites. In the
middle of the operation, our good dwarf, getting nervous at a sight to
which he was so little accustomed, lost his self-control and while
endeavouring to effect a retreat, fell on his head to the ground in a
swoon. I am afraid we both laughed at the prostrate brave, who was a
regular lion in his own opinion. Left to ourselves to do the work, we
had some difficulty in finishing the operation satisfactorily. But that
was the last occasion on which Jack figured as an assistant in the
operation room.