_November 29th._
From morning to evening cannon were rolling and troops were marching
through the streets. Since Saturday night the gates of the town had been
rigidly closed to all civilians, and even those provided with passes
from headquarters were refused egress. It was known that the grand
effort which is to make or mar us was to be made the next morning, and
it was hoped that the Prussians would be taken unawares. The plan, in
its main details, was confided to me by half a dozen persons, and,
therefore, I very much question whether it is a secret to the enemy.
Most of those who take an interest in the war have, I presume, a map of
Paris. If they consult it, they will see that the Marne from the east,
and the Seine from the south, unite about a mile from the south-eastern
corner of the enceinte. Two miles before the junction of the two rivers
the Marne makes a loop to the south, in this way running parallel with
the Seine for about three miles. On the north of the Marne towards Paris
lies the wood of Vincennes, and beyond the loop there are the villages
of Joinville, Nogent, and Brie. The line is defended by the forts of
Vincennes and Nogent and the redoubt of La Faisanderie. To the south,
between the loop and the Seine, is the fort of Charenton; a little
farther on the village of Creteil; beyond it, just outside the loop, is
Montmesly, where the Prussians have heavy batteries. On the north side
of the loop is the village of Champigny, which is situated on a plateau
that extends from there to Brie. On the south of Paris, between the
Seine and Meudon, are first a line of forts, then a line of redoubts,
except where Chatillon cuts in close by the Fort of Vanves. Beyond this
line of redoubts is a plain, that slopes down towards the villages of
L'Hay, Chevilly, Thiais, and Choisy-le-Roi, which is situated on the
Seine about five miles from Paris. By Monday evening about 100,000 men
and 400 cannon were massed under General Ducrot in the Bois de Vincennes
and in the adjacent villages. About 15,000 men, under General Vinoy,
were behind the southern line of redoubts close by the village of
Villejuif. Troops were also placed near St. Denis and in the peninsula
of Genevilliers to distract the attention of the enemy. It was arranged
that early in the morning General Vinoy should push forward in the
direction of L'Hay and Choisy, and then, when the Prussian reserves had
been attracted to the south by this demonstration, Ducrot should throw
bridges over the Marne and endeavour to force his way through the lines
of investment by the old high road of Bâle. At one in the morning a
tremendous cannonade from all the forts and redoubts round Paris
commenced. It was so loud that I imagined that the Prussians were
attempting an assault, and I went off to the southern ramparts to see
what was happening. The sight there was a striking one. The heavy
booming of the great guns, the bright flash each time they fired, and
the shells with their lighted fusees rushing through the air, and
bursting over the Prussian lines, realised what the French call a "feu
d'enfer." At about three o'clock the firing slackened, and I went home,
but at four it recommenced. At six o'clock General Vinoy's troops
advanced in two columns, one against L'Hay, and the other against La
Gare aux Boeufs, a fortified enclosure, about a mile above Choisy-le-Roi.
The latter was speedily occupied, a body of sailors rushing into it,
and carrying all before them, the Prussians falling back on Choisy. At
L'Hay the attacking column met with a strenuous resistance. As soon as
it had passed the barricade at the entrance of the village, a heavy fire
was poured into it from the houses at both sides of the main street. A
hand-to-hand encounter then took place with the Prussian Guard, which
had been brought up as a reinforcement. While the fight was progressing
an order arrived from General Trochu to retreat. The same order was sent
to the Gare aux Boeufs, and by ten o'clock the troops to the south of
Paris had fallen back to the positions they occupied the previous
evening. General Vinoy, during the engagement, was with his staff on the
bridge which crosses the Seine near Charenton. A battalion of National
Guards were drawn up near him. A chance shell took off the legs of one
of these heroes, his comrades fled in dismay--they were rallied and
brought back with difficulty. A little later they were engaged in
cooking their food, when some tin pans fell against each other. Thinking
it was a bomb, they again scattered, and the General was obliged to ride
along the line shouting "Courage, courage; it is the soup, my children."
In the meantime a terrible mishap had occurred on the north of the
Marne. On Monday evening, General Trochu and General Ducrot slept at
Vincennes. The latter had issued an address, in which he informed his
troops that he meant either to conquer or die. During the night an
exchange of shots had taken place across the river between the French
and Prussian sharp-shooters. Towards morning the latter had withdrawn.
At break of day the troops were drawn up ready to cross the river as
soon as the engagement on the southern lines had diverted the attention
of the enemy. The bridges were there ready to be thrown across, when it
was discovered that the Marne had overflown its bed, and could not be
crossed. Whether it be true or not that the Prussians had cut a dam, or
whether, as sometimes occurs with literary generals, the pontoons were
too few in number, is not yet clear. Whatever the cause, the effect was
to render it impossible to carry out to-day the plan which was to take
General Ducrot and his troops down to Orleans, and at the present moment
he and they are still at Vincennes, waiting for the river to go down. At
twelve o'clock I managed to get through the gate of Vanves. Outside the
walls everything was quiet. Troops were massed in all sheltered places
to resist any attack which might be made from the plateau of Chatillon.
None of the officers seemed to know what had occurred. Some thought that
Choisy had been taken, others that Ducrot had got clear away. I was
walking along the outposts in advance of Vanves, when a cantankerous
officer, one of those beings overflowing with ill-regulated zeal, asked
me what I was doing. I showed my pass. My zealous friend insisted that I
had come in from the Prussian lines, and that I probably was a spy. I
said I had left Paris an hour ago. He replied that this was impossible,
as no civilian was allowed to pass through the gate. Things began to
look uncomfortable. The zealot talked of shooting me, as a simple and
expeditious mode of solving the question. To this I objected, and so at
length it was agreed that I should be marched off to the fort of Vanves.
We found the Commandant seated before his fort with a big stick in his
hand, like a farmer before his farm yard. In vain the zealot endeavoured
to excite his ire against me. The Commandant and I got into conversation
and became excellent friends. He, too, knew nothing of what had
occurred. He had been bombarding Chatillon, he said, and he supposed he
should soon receive orders to recommence. What seemed to surprise him
was that the Prussians during the whole night had not replied either
from Chatillon, Sèvres, or Meudon to the French guns. From Vanves I went
to Villejuif, where a temporary ambulance had been erected, and the
surgeons were busy with the wounded. As soon as their wounds were
dressed, they were taken in ambulance carts inside the town. The
officers and soldiers, who had not yet learnt that General Ducrot had
failed to cross the Marne, were in a very bad humour at having been
ordered to withdraw at the very moment when they were carrying
everything before them. They represented the Prussians as having fought
like devils, and declared that they appeared to take a fiendish pleasure
in killing even the wounded. Within the town the excitement to know what
had passed is intense. The Government has posted up a notice saying that
everything is happening as General Trochu wished it. Not a word is said
about Ducrot's failure. The _Liberté_, which gives a guarded account of
what really took place, has been torn to pieces on the Boulevards. I
have just been talking with an officer on the headquarters staff. He
tells me that Trochu is still outside, very much cast down, but
determined to make a desperate effort to retrieve matters to-morrow.
We have received to-day some English newspapers, and you may imagine how
far behind the age we are from the fact that we learn for the first time
that Prince Gortschakoff has put his finger into the pie. Good heavens!
I have invested my savings in Turkish Five per cents., and it gives me a
cold shiver to think at what figure I shall find these Oriental
securities quoted on the Stock Exchange when I emerge from my enforced
seclusion and again find myself in communication with the outer
world.[1]
_December 2nd._
For the last three days the public within the walls of Paris has been
kept in profound ignorance of what has been passing outside. General
Trochu has once or twice each day published a despatch saying that
everything is happening as he anticipated, and the majority of those
who read these oracular utterances religiously believe in them as though
they had never been deceived. On the Boulevards there are crowds who
question any soldier who is seen passing. "Tout va bien" is the only
answer which they get; but they seem to be under the impression that the
siege is already over, and that the Prussian lines have been forced.
Along the road inside the ramparts, and at the gates, there are dense
masses listening to the cannon, and on every mound from which a distant
view of the smoke can be obtained men, women, and children are
congregated. I have managed to get every day into the horse-shoe at the
mouth of which the fighting was going on, and yesterday afternoon, when
there was a semi-suspension of arms to bury the dead, I went with the
ambulances on the debateable land between the two armies. The whole
horse-shoe is full of artillery. The bombs and shells from the forts and
batteries pass over the French, and explode within the Prussian lines. A
little behind, every house is filled with wounded, who are taken, as
soon as their wounds are dressed, inside the town. One or two batteries
occasionally open fire, and occasionally those of the Prussians respond.
Trochu and Ducrot ride about, and, as far as I can see, the latter
commands, while the former makes speeches. Yesterday afternoon we had
slightly gained ground, beyond however an occasional discharge from our
forts and batteries, there was no fighting. Before our lines a very
large number of Prussian dead were lying. There were burying parties out
on both sides, but they were getting on very slowly with their work, and
were perpetually fired on. At 4 A.M. this morning the Prussians made a
rush at our lines from Champigny to Brie, and the Mobiles and line,
taken by surprise, hastily fell back. One or two regiments of Mobiles
were literally charged by squadrons of gendarmerie, to force them back.
Reinforcements came up, and by nine o'clock the positions had been
regained--the Prussians being unable to withstand the fire of our forts,
redoubts, and siege-guns. The battle then went on till about three
o'clock, when it died out. Towards Villiers, I should say we had gained
about three-quarters of a mile, and at Champigny we had lost about a
third of the village. At about five o'clock I got back to my hotel,
which is the headquarters of the Ambulance Internationale. Until eleven
o'clock wounded were being brought in. It is quite full now. About 460
French, and 30 Germans--almost all Saxons. Many died during the night.
In the room, next to mine, Franchetti, the commander of the Eclaireurs
of the Seine, is lying--a portion of his hip has been blown away by a
shell, and the doctor has just told me that he fears that he will not
recover, as the wound is too high up for an operation. In the room
beyond him is a young lieutenant of Mobiles, who has had his leg
amputated, and his right arm cut open to extract a portion of the bone,
and who still has a ball in his shoulder. Most of the soldiers in here
are wounded either in the leg or in the arm. There is a great dearth of
doctors, and many wounded who were brought here last night had to wait
until this morning before their turn came to be examined. The American
Ambulance and several others are also, I hear, full. I go in
occasionally to see the Germans, as I can talk their language, and it
cheers them to hear it. I see in the newspapers that wounded Bavarians
and Saxons are perpetually crying "Vive la France!" I can only say that
those here do nothing of the kind. They do not seem to be particularly
downcast at finding themselves in the hands of their enemies. They are
treated precisely as the French are, and they are grateful for this.
It is said this evening that the troops will be withdrawn and return to
the Bois de Vincennes. Some say that we have left 20,000 men at Villiers
and Champigny; but I take it that our loss does not exceed 6,000 men.
The general idea seems to be, that to-morrow we are to try to get out in
another direction, either by Chatillon or Malmaison. A pigeon came in
this morning from Bourbaki, with a despatch dated Nov. 30, stating that
he is advancing, and among the soldiers this despatch has already become
an official notice that he is at Meaux. All I know for certain is that
the ambulances are ordered out for eight o'clock to-morrow morning, and
that I am now going to bed, so as to be ready to start with them. I hear
that there has been fighting both yesterday and to-day near Bondy; but
not being able to be in two places at once, I cannot tell what really
occurred. To my civilian judgment it appears that as our object was to
force the line of heights on the south-east of Paris, which constitute
the Prussian lines of investment in that direction, and as we have not
done so, we can hardly be said to be in a better position than we were
last Monday. At a heavy cost of life we have purchased the knowledge
that our new artillery is better than was expected, and that Line and
Mobiles will stand under fire with tolerable steadiness until their
officers are bowled over, when they break. The National Guards were not
engaged. General Trochu and General Pisani tried to get some of their
battalions over the Marne, but found it impossible. After a long speech
from Trochu, Pisani shouted, "Vive la France!" To this they responded;
but when he added, "Vive Trochu!" they remained silent, and their
commanders declared that this involved political considerations with
regard to which they and their men "make certain reservations." They
are, however, very proud of having been within two miles of a battle
field, and Trochu congratulates them, in an order of the day, upon
giving a "moral support" to the army. This is precisely what every one
is willing to do. Moral support will not, however, get the Prussians
away from Paris.
Food is becoming more scarce every day. Yesterday all our sausages were
requisitioned. We have still got the cows to fall back on, but they are
kept to the last for the sake of their milk. They are fed on oats, as
hay is scarce. So you see the mother of a calf has many advantages over
its uncle. All the animals in the Zoological Gardens have been killed
except the monkeys; these are kept alive from a vague and Darwinian
notion that they are our relatives, or at least the relatives of some of
the members of the Government, to whom in the matter of beauty nature
has not been bountiful. In the cellar of the English Embassy there are
three sheep. Never did the rich man lust more after the poor man's ewe
lamb than I lust after these sheep. I go and look at them frequently,
much as a London Arab goes to have a smell at a cookshop. They console
me for the absence of my ambassador. Some one has discovered that an
excellent jelly can be made out of old bones, and we are called upon by
the mayors to give up all our bones, in order that they may be submitted
to the process. Mr. Powell is, I believe, a contractor in London. I do
not know him; but yesterday I dined with a friend who produced from a
tin some Australian mutton, which he had bought of Mr. Powell before the
commencement of the siege. Better I never tasted, and out of gratitude I
give the worthy Powell the benefit of a gratis advertisement. If we only
had a stock of his meat here, we could defy the Prussians. As it is, I
am very much afraid that in a very few weeks William will date his
telegrams to Augusta from the Tuileries.
_December 3rd._
I wrote to you in a great hurry last night in order to catch a balloon
which was to have gone this morning, but whose departure has been
deferred as the wind was not favourable. I am now able to give some more
accurate details respecting the affair of Friday, as I have had an
opportunity of talking with several of the officers who were on the
staffs of the different generals engaged. After the Prussians at 4 A.M.
had surprised the whole of the French line from Brie to Champigny, they
pushed forward a heavy column between, the latter place and the Marne,
thus outflanking their opponents. The column advanced about half-way up
the horse-shoe formed by the bend in the river, and would have got as
far as the bridges at Joinville, had not General Favé opened fire upon
it from a small redoubt which he had built in advance of Joinville, with
forty field guns which he rapidly placed in position. Reinforcements
were then brought up under General Blanchard, and the column was at
length forced back, fighting hard to Champigny. To-day most of the
troops in the horse-shoe crossed over the river, and are now either in
the wood of Vincennes or in other portions of the line between the forts
and the enceinte. General Trochu has returned to the Louvre, and General
Ducrot, I hear, yesterday evening expressed his regret that he had
published that foolish manifesto, in which he declared that if he did
not conquer he would die; for, not having done either, he felt the
awkwardness of re-entering the city. Both Ducrot and Trochu freely
exposed themselves; the latter received a slight wound in the back of
the head from a piece of a shell which struck him. All the officers were
obliged to keep well in advance of their soldiers in order to encourage
them. The brunt of the fighting fell to the Line; the Mobiles, as a
rule, only behaved tolerably well; the Vendeans, of whom much was
expected, badly. The only battalion of the National Guards engaged was
that from Belleville, and it very speedily fell back. I have always had
my doubts about the valour of the Parisians. I found it difficult to
believe in men who hunt for pretexts to avoid military service--who are
so very fond of marching behind drums and vivandières inside a town, and
who, in some way or other, manage either to avoid going out of it, or
when forced out, avoid all danger.
The population is in profound ignorance of the real state of affairs
outside. It still believes that the Prussian lines have been forced, and
that the siege will be over in a few days. I presume that Trochu will
make a second sortie in force. Unless, however, his operations are
powerfully aided by the armies of the provinces, it is difficult to
believe that the result will be anything beyond a useless sacrifice of
life. On Friday, it is estimated that our loss amounted to 4,500
wounded, and 600 killed. That of the Prussians must have been very
heavy, to judge from the number of dead bodies that were lying about in
the fields and woods.
The ambulances were ordered out this morning, and at seven o'clock some
300 victims rendezvoused with the carriages on the Quai, near the Place
de la Concorde. After freezing there for about two hours, it was
suggested that a messenger should be sent to General Trochu, to ask him
whether we were really wanted. The reply was that no attack would be
made to-day, and consequently we went off home to thaw. If wars really
must be made, I do hope that we shall fall back upon the old system of
carrying on military operations in summer. When the thermometer is below
zero, I feel like Bob Acres--all my valour oozing out at my fingers'
ends. The doctors tell me that many slight wounds have gangrened owing
to the cold. When a battle lasts until evening the mass of the wounded
cannot be picked up until the next morning, and their sufferings during
the night must be terrible. I saw several poor fellows picked up who
appeared literally frozen.
The _Journal Officiel_ of to-day contains a letter from Monseigneur
Bauer, protesting against the Prussians having shot at him when he went
forward with a flag of truce and a trompette. The fact is vouched for
by, among others, a journalist who remained during the night of Friday
outside the walls. I can easily believe it, for the Prussians are not a
chivalrous enemy. They are perpetually firing on ambulances: and, when
it suits their own purposes, raising the white flag. If, indeed,
one-tenth part of the stories which I hear of their treacheries be true,
they ought to be exterminated like wolves. This Monseigneur Bauer is a
character. He began life as a German Jew, and he is now a Frenchman and
a Christian Bishop. During the Empire he was chaplain to the court, and
confessor of the Empress. He is now chaplain of the Ambulances de la
Presse, and has under his orders 800 "Frères Chrétiens," who dress as
priests, but are not in holy orders. Both he and they display the
greatest courage. The Frères Chrétiens are the foremost in picking up
the wounded; going forward long before the firing is over. The Bishop
prances about on his horse, dressed in a soutane and long boots, the
Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour on his breast, a golden crucifix
hanging from his neck, and a huge episcopal ring on his finger, outside
his gloves. Sometimes he appears in a red cloak, which, I presume, is a
part of his sacerdotal gear. I am told, by those who know him, that
"Monseigneur" is a consummate humbug, but he is very popular with the
soldiers, as he talks to them in their own language, and there certainly
is no humbug about his pluck. He is as steady under fire as if he were
in a pulpit. He was by the side of Ducrot when the general's horse was
killed under him.
The events of the past week prove that General Trochu's sole available
force for resisting the enemy consists of the Line and the Mobiles. As
for the population of Paris, they are more than useless. They eat up the
provisions; they are endowed with a mixture of obstinacy and conceit,
which will very probably enable them to endure considerable hardships
rather than surrender; fight, however, they will not, although I am
convinced that, to the end of their lives, they will boast of their
heroic valour, and in the legend which will pass muster as history of
the siege of Paris, our grandchildren will be taught that in 1870, when
the French troops were all prisoners of war, the citizens of the French
capital "covered themselves with honour," and for nearly three months
held their town against the furious onslaughts of the victorious German
armies. The poor soldiers and the Mobiles, who do all the real fighting,
will experience the eternal truth of Virgil's _Sic vos non vobis_. But
there is no use being angry at what will happen in one hundred years,
for what does it signify to any who are now alive either in Paris or out
of Paris?
_December 5th._
A proclamation has been issued by the Government, announcing that the
troops have retired across the Marne, as the enemy has had time to
collect such a force in front of Villiers and Champigny, that further
efforts in this direction would be sterile. "The loss of the enemy
during the glorious days of the 29th and 30th November, and December
2nd, has been so great that, struck down in its pride of power, it has
allowed an army which it attacked the day before, to cross a river under
its eyes, and in the light of day," continues this manifesto. Now,
considering that the crossing took place at Joinville, and that the
river at that point is under the fire of three forts and two redoubts,
it appears to me that General Trochu might as well take credit to
himself for crossing the Seine opposite the Place de la Concorde. I will
say for the Government of to-day, that in any attempt to beat its
predecessor in mendacity it had a hard task, but it has worked with a
will, and completely succeeded. The military attachés who are still
here, consider that the French loss during the three days cannot be less
than 10,000 in killed and wounded. It is very unlikely that the
Government will admit a loss of above 2,000 or 3,000. That of the
Prussians is, we are told, far larger than ours. Without accepting this
assertion as gospel, it must have been very heavy. A friend of mine
himself counted 500 dead bodies in one wood. We have a certain number of
prisoners. With respect to the wounded Germans in our hands, I find that
there are about 30 in my hotel, as against above 400 French. In the
American ambulance, out of 130 only two are Germans. Colonel Claremont,
who had put off his departure, witnessed the fight in the redoubt which
General Favé had built opposite Joinville. He was nearly killed several
times by bombs from La Faisanderie, which was behind him, bursting
short.
The Parisians are somewhat taken aback at the victory resulting in a
retreat. They appear, however, to be as ignorant of the environs of
their own capital as they are of foreign countries, and they never
condescend to consult a map. While some of them shake their heads in
despair of success, the majority are under the impression that Villiers
and Champigny are far beyond the range of the guns of our forts, and
that as the ground near them is still occupied by our troops, something
which will lead to the speedy retreat of the Prussians has been done. We
are two millions, they say; we will all die rather than surrender: and
they appear to be under the impression that if they only say this often
enough, Paris never will be taken. The Ultra-Democrats in the clubs have
a new theory to account for their refusal to fight. "We are," observed
an orator, a few nights ago, "the children of Paris, she has need of us;
can we leave her at such a moment?" Some of these heroes, indeed, assert
that the best plan would be to allow the Prussians to enter and then
convert them to the doctrines of Republicanism. I think it was St.
Augustine who did not despair of the devil eventually turning over a new
leaf; in the same way I heard an ardent patriot express the hope of
being able to convert "William" himself to the creed of the Universal
Republic. At the club where these fraternal sentiments were expressed
there is a lady who sits on the platform. When anyone makes what she
considers a good speech she embraces him on both cheeks. She is by no
means ugly, and I had serious thoughts of making a few observations
myself in view of the reward. That bashfulness, however, which has been
my bane through life, prevented me. The lady occasionally speaks
herself, and is fond of giving her own experiences. "I was on my way to
this club," she said, "the other evening, when I observed a man
following me. 'What dost thou want?' I asked, sternly eyeing him. 'I
love you,' replied the vile aristocrat. 'I am the wife of a citizen,' I
answered, 'and the mother of the Gracchi.' The wretch sneaked away,
abashed to seek other prey. If he addresses himself to some princess or
duchess he will probably find a victim." The loudest applause greeted
this "experience," and several very unclean-looking patriots rushed
forward to embrace the mother of the Gracchi, in order to show her how
highly they appreciated her noble conduct.
The newspapers are already beginning to dread that possibly some doubts
may be cast upon the heroism of everyone during the last week. The
_Figaro_ contains the following:--"No matter what certain
correspondents--better known than they suppose--may say, and although
they are preparing to infect foreign countries with their
correspondence, our Bretons did not run away on Thursday. It is true
that when they saw the Saxons emerging from their holes and shouting
hurrah, our Bretons were a little troubled by this abrupt and savage
joke, but"--then follows the statement of several of the heroes
themselves that they fought like lions. The fact is, as I have already
stated in my letter of yesterday, the Mobiles fought only tolerably
well, and some of their battalions rather the reverse of well. The Line,
for young troops, behaved very fairly; and the reckless courage of the
officers, both of the Line and Mobile, was above all praise. It is,
however, a military axiom that when an undue proportion of officers are
killed in a battle their troops have hung back. Good soldiers cannot be
made in two months, and it is absurd to expect that raw lads, who were
taken from the plough a few weeks ago, would fight as well as trained
and hardened warriors. This however, we are called upon, in defiance of
facts, to believe, because "the soil of France produces soldiers."
It is difficult to guess what will happen now. The generals must be
aware that unless one of the armies of the provinces takes the Prussians
in the rear, a fresh sortie will only result in a fresh butchery; but
then, on the other hand, the Parisians will not be satisfied until all
the Line and the Mobiles outside the walls have been killed, in order
that it may be said that the resistance of Paris was heroic. If I were
Trochu, I should organize a sortie exclusively of National Guards, in
order to show these gentry what a very different thing real fighting is
to parading about the streets of the capital and wearing a uniform.
The following is a list of the prices of "luxuries:"--Terrines of
chicken, 16f; of rabbit, 13f; a fowl, 26f; a rabbit, 18f; a turkey, 60f;
a goose, 45f; one cauliflower, 3f; one cabbage, 4f; dog is 2f. a lb.; a
cat skinned costs 5f.; a rat, 1f., if fat from the drains, 1f. 50c.
Almost all the animals in the Jardin d'Acclimatation have been eaten.
They have averaged about 7f. a lb. Kangaroo, however, has been sold for
12f. the lb. Yesterday I dined with the correspondent of a London paper.
He had managed to get a large piece of mufflon, an animal which is, I
believe, only found in Corsica. I can only describe it by saying that it
tasted of mufflon, and nothing else. Without being absolutely bad, I do
not think that I shall take up my residence in Corsica, in order
habitually to feed upon it.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: A balloon letter, dated November 30, giving, it is
presumed, an account of the military operations on that day, suffered so
much _in transitu_, that it is illegible.]