TO THE FRONT.--TURCO AND ZOUAVE ENCAMPMENTS.--SKIRMISHING.--FALSE
NEWS.--THE SHAM FIGHT AT NEUVILLE.--RETURN TO THE CITY.
On the evening of the 24th, our chief reported himself to the General
Commandant, and asked for a "_Feuille de route_," and "_Laissez
passer_," which were freely granted, together with instructions to push
on as far as Neuville at once; for no doubt our services would be
required there before many hours. Already we could hear the cannon
booming in the distance, which satisfied us that this speculation was
correct. Early next morning we started with our omnibus and train of
waggons, leaving the town by the Faubourg Bannier. Every man carried
with him all the portable necessaries, consisting of bandages,
chloroform, morphia, lint, tourniquets, and instruments. When we were
clear of the town, a good insight into the doings of the French during
the past few weeks was permitted us. We saw how they had executed their
plan for the fortification of Orleans, and had made an entrenched camp
round about it, with ninety-five naval guns manned by the seamen from
Cherbourg.
At regular intervals the road was intersected by trenches of great depth
and width, running parallel to each other, and extending for miles round
the town. They had been driven alike through the woods, the open
country, and the vineyards. The cuttings which were thus made in the
road had been filled with bundles of twigs and birch tops, packed
together and covered with sods, so as to admit of one waggon crossing
them.
It surprised me that our horses' feet did not go through; but I remarked
that the bundles on the top were made of fine slender maple tops. The
sensation experienced when crossing these elastic surfaces was very
peculiar. The omnibuses and waggons sprang up and down, and rocked from
side to side, as if they had been on india-rubber, until I thought we
should be upset; but we were perfectly safe, and the materials proved
admirably suited for their purpose. They had, of course, the advantage
of being easily removed on the shortest notice. The covering of sods was
nothing to speak of, and had by this time resolved itself into a mere
crust.
The trenches, however, were not by any means so numerous as the shallow
rifle pits and earthworks, which, taking a zigzag course, intersected
one another, and seemed to form a network in every direction. It was
clear to us that the deep trenches were intended to arrest the progress
of artillery and cavalry, while the pits and mounds were for sheltering
advancing infantry. All this pointed to the determination of the French
to make a resolute stand at Orleans; but we all agreed that we should
yet see the Germans making use of those very trenches to defeat the army
which had constructed them. And so it turned out.
On our journey we passed through the forest near Orleans, where one
portion of the French army had recently encamped. They had cut avenues
through the trees, and crossed them again at right angles by others. At
each side of these were erected little huts, made of branches set
upright in the ground, and interwoven with smaller branches and twigs,
while a rough thatch of broom and birch tops covered them. This gave the
whole the appearance of an Indian village.
Some of the huts were large and commodious, and if not perfectly strong,
made a comfortable shelter against the blast. When inhabited, one could
well imagine what a picturesque appearance they must have presented, as
seen at night by the blaze of the camp fires. We were told that here had
been the quarters of some of the troops from Algiers. The French always
kept these wild fellows as much as possible by themselves, and away from
the towns, where they are apt to become unmanageable.
Some miles further on, in the middle of an open country, we met an
encampment of Zouaves. The ground was all converted into a heavy slush,
for it had been raining; and these unlucky men, stationed here during
the past four days, were under orders to move on to the front in the
morning. As a group of them stood beside a fire near the road, I was
struck with their jaded and draggled appearance. Half famished, and up
to their ankles in mud, they gave little earnest of the spirit with
which they would go into action on the morrow. Numbers of them were
moving about, carrying wood and water, while others were cooking their
victuals. I felt much amused at the manner in which some of them
performed their morning ablutions. Two fellows whom I noticed were
kneeling on a board, washing their faces in some dirty water that had
lodged in a waggon track. There were Turcos among them;--one a dark,
fierce-looking brigand, who stalked up with an old barn-door cock in his
hand and a turkey under his arm, jabbering to each of his victims a
jargon, which they probably did not understand, though they fluttered
and screamed in answer to him. These feathered captives were, no doubt,
the result of a visit to some old dame's farmyard; for Turcos never pass
through a country without stealing all the poultry and eggs they can lay
hands on. Such is the "loot" on which they set value.
Further on, we marched through several hamlets which were almost
entirely deserted, as were, indeed, most of the farmhouses. Presently,
one of the sentinels at an outpost challenged us, and in half an hour we
found ourselves at our destination. Neuville is a tidy village situated
on the north-east of Orleans, which can boast its little square and town
hall, or Mairie, and presented the clean and neat appearance of which I
have so often spoken when describing the hamlets I came upon in my
French travels. It lies on the outskirts of the forest of Orleans, and
has a small but decent church at one end, and a fine corn market at the
other. Its central square now afforded a most lively scene, being
covered with tents from which the French soldiery were swarming out; and
by their excited manner and,--even for them,--unusual volubility, it was
not difficult to guess that some event of the gravest importance was
threatening.
We reported ourselves to the Commandant, who looked at our papers, was
made aware of our business and destination, and assigned us quarters.
This gentleman, who was most courteous and communicative, informed us
that there had been a battle on the day previously, in which the
Prussians were repulsed, and that, although the engagement had been long
and hotly contested, the losses on the French side were trivial; while
those of the Germans, if not heavy, were yet not inconsiderable. We
also learned that a few small skirmishes had taken place during the
early part of the day, and that the cannon which we heard were further
up the French lines to our right. The Commandant said that for the
wounded at Neuville he had ample provision in his military surgeons; but
added that he expected an engagement on the morrow, when our services
would probably be useful.
Such appear to have been the facts. Yet, a few days afterwards, the
French journals gave a glowing account of an engagement which had taken
place on that very day, and in which a large number of Prussians were
killed, with the loss of only one Garde Mobile and half a dozen wounded
on the French side. Well and good, if the papers had confined themselves
to the doings of the 24th, when there was really some brisk fighting,
and some cannonading too, as I can testify; for I saw where a bombshell
had entered the mayor's house, and, having passed through the roof, had
burst inside, knocking in the ceiling of the sitting-room, and riddling
the partition walls so that one could see into the adjoining chamber.
But all beyond this was exaggeration or fable.
I remarked that many of the houses in Neuville had received the like
treatment, and that, here and there, doors, windows, and sashes had been
smashed by fragments of shells. Presently, while wending our way through
the camp to our quarters, we fell in with a young corporal, who was of
English descent on the mother's side. He had known Dr. May in Paris,
spoke English fluently, and showed much refinement and intelligence. He
told us that, on the day before, some thousand and odd Frenchmen had
defeated in a pitched battle four thousand Prussians; but as the French
had had fresh reinforcements that morning, they were now on a more equal
footing with the enemy, and could muster, at least, three thousand men.
About the movements or position of the other side no one seemed to have
precise information, which rather astonished us, since they talked so
confidently.
When we had put up in a little tavern, situated in a by-lane, and as
clean and comfortable as we could expect in time of war, we went out
again to see what was going forward. On one side to the north of the
village, our friends had constructed rifle pits, mounds, and trenches
just as at Orleans, but on a smaller scale.
We directed our steps to the church, and found there several score or so
of wounded, the greater number of whom were German. These latter were in
charge of a very uncommunicative young surgeon of their own, who,
although I have no desire to misjudge him, did not seem to be very
deeply concerned about his patients. They were all gravely wounded, and
lay on the flags, with but a scanty supply of straw beneath them,
having neither blankets nor anything else to cover them, except their
overcoats. Many were in a dying condition, their limbs mangled by
fragments of shells, or traversed by bullets in some vital part. Two of
them assured me that their wounds had not been dressed since they were
brought in from the battlefield, and that the bullets were still
unextracted; but this may have happened from want of Hospital plant and
material. We had, however, the gratification of seeing the few out of
that dying multitude who could bear removal, transported to our depôt at
Orleans; while the rest were left under the charge of their German
doctor, let us hope to die in peace.
Some lay in the sanctuary of the church beside the altar; others made
use of the steps to support their aching heads; and we noticed others
again who were writhing on the ground in the agony of death.
But war had imposed its burden on us, and we took an early rest in order
to be fresh for our work next morning. Dr. May was told off to rise at
three, and ascertain when we might be expected to be up and moving. The
morning came; but no firing had as yet begun, and Dr. May let us lie
until seven. When we came down, the village presented a very different
aspect from that of yesterday. Not a civilian was to be seen in the
streets. A regiment silently drawn up was in the centre of the square.
Every man stood in his place, with his hand on his rifle, and ready to
begin at a moment's notice. Our forces at this point consisted of a
regiment of marine infantry, a couple of regiments of the Line, a few
hundred cavalry, and three batteries.
We took our position on the _route Impériale_, immediately outside the
town, from which place one could observe how the forces were disposed,
and the relation which we bore to the enemy. There was a forest in front
of Neuville, some few thousand yards away from the earthworks, and in
and beside this wood the Prussians held their ground. The French
infantry were drawn up within and in front, as well as on the left of
the town; while the artillery had taken up their position on a small
hill to the right, from which they could rake the plain before them,
should the Prussians give them battle. In the rear of the artillery, and
away from the town, were placed the cavalry.
Now, when I talk of the infantry being drawn up, be it understood that
they were not ranged in lines on the open plain, as the uninitiated
might suppose,--far from it,--for, positively, on looking over the
country, it was hard to make out their presence. The French forces were
scattered about in farmyards; behind woods, orchards, and hedges; and
close to the houses themselves.
The early part of the morning had been wet, but it was now quite fine;
and my reader can imagine with what burning anxiety we kept our eyes on
the plain before us, and with a fixed gaze waited for the moment when
the familiar rattle at the outposts should declare that hostilities had
begun.
Time passed, and no wounded were coming in. Some of us walked about
unheeded, observing all we thought of interest. The Prussians were not
visible, and we were moving along the road, when we saw the outposts
engaged at two different points, as we judged by the smoke and the
sounds of musketry.
We now retreated to our lines, feeling sure that this was the
commencement of a hot day's work. However, it turned out otherwise; for
after a considerable amount of shifting their position on the part of
the infantry, and the advancing of a few companies, there was very
little firing on either side save that which was kept up between the
outposts; and they, in the end, got tired of firing in the air in the
direction of one another. I should say, from the distance they were
apart, that they might have gone on firing till the day of judgment, and
done no execution on their respective enemies. In a little time two
companies went forward and exchanged a few volleys with the Prussians,
whereupon the latter retired altogether from the scene. Thus ended the
battle of the 25th, without a drop of blood being shed or a single man
being wounded.
Now, it may appear strange that I should have travelled into the details
of so bloodless an engagement; but my reason for doing so is simply
this, that a few days later, when perusing one of the French journals, I
lighted on a glowing report of three brilliant victories which had been
gained at Neuville by the French, on the 24th, 25th, and 26th of
November, with all particulars at length.
The comments on the battle of the 24th, as I have said, were
exaggerated; but in describing the two days subsequent, my newspaper
stated that, after a determined resistance of many hours, the Prussians
were completely routed, and had left eighty prisoners in the hands of
the French, with a quantity of baggage and waggons. I have given the
circumstances of this notable victory of the 25th, and the reader may
draw his own conclusion. So much for French journalism, which, to my
thinking, was not wholly guiltless of many of the disasters that befell
the French arms. The facts I have related speak for themselves; they
furnish, however, an example of the mania, which, at this period, seized
the French press, and led them persistently to falsify the news from the
seat of war. Not only did they strain every effort to blindfold their
own people, and screen the truth from them,--which was that they were
being hopelessly beaten,--but they did their best to persuade the world
that they were winning, and that their ultimate success was certain.
These bare-faced falsehoods, which delayed negotiations, and put off the
treaty of peace until the country was exhausted, could be matched only
by a story which I heard long afterwards. An acquaintance of ours, who
was staying at Tours in 1880, used to relate how his French host was in
the habit of saying, when they fell to talking about old times,
_"Franchement, nous avons vaincu dans cette guerre, mais les gens ne
veulent pas le reconnaître"_. No, I say, they hardly could!
We returned to Orleans on the night of Saturday, the 26th, and next day,
during a leisure half-hour, I wrote home rather a tame account of these
glorious French victories.
Wonderful (I used to think), how easy it is to revive by abundant
palaver the drooping spirits of the French! Not two months ago they had
looked upon their prospects, if not with despair, yet with the most
gloomy forebodings; but to-day, elated by a few slight successes, they
were swaggering about the streets, boasting of what France had done in
generations past, and of what she would do in the future. It was no
uncommon thing to hear them in the cafés talking of the requisitions
they would make when they had raised the siege of Paris, and were
marching through Germany, about which they knew little more than they
did of the interior of China. Nor would it have been safe to hint, at
this period, that any Germans would still remain on French territory by
that day six weeks.
It was amusing, if also, perhaps, exasperating, to hear them run on in
this fashion; for we non-combatants all expected that ere many days we
should see the German sentinels again at our Hospital gates. For
ourselves, we were still branded by public opinion as Germans, and had
nothing to protect us save our calling, and the flag which hung out all
through, over our door on the Quai du Châtelet. Hence we were careful
how we moved about after nightfall, lest we might come into collision
with the soldiery, or such of the townsfolk as might have been disposed
to interfere with us.