Recollections of Thirty-nine Years in the Army

The descent proved more difficult than the ascent. After a short rest we proceeded to explore the interior of the huge pile. From the entrance we descended, by a narrow passage not more than four feet in height, a distance of 106 feet, then ascended by another passage, at an angle of 27°, to “the Queen’s Chamber.” Returning to the point from which branches upward the great gallery, we ascended by it to “the King’s Chamber,” passing in our progress through the supposed position of four ancient portcullises. Returning to, and glad to be in, the open air, we passed on to Campbell’s Tomb,268 in which, at a depth of sixty feet from the surface, lies exposed the sarcophagus of porphyry described in books of travel. Thence to the Sphynx, now mutilated, yet whose intensely grave, placid expression struck us with awe, as it has affected other travellers who have visited it during the thousands of years included in its history.

Near the Sphynx is a temple excavated in the solid rock. Huge blocks, some seventeen feet long, of red granite are in it so arranged as to form passages and doorways; others of alabaster, of scarcely smaller dimensions, being interspersed among them. So far, information is wanting with regard to the history of this temple; but to us it is no less wonderful in its way than any of the other objects and buildings we visited.

At last the time came for the troops on board the Euphrates to resume their homeward voyage. It was with regret that we took leave of Captain Dunn and officers, and proceeded to the train by which the transit across the desert was to be made. It was now late in December; the sensation of cold experienced by us during the night of our journey very severe, far beyond what readings of the thermometer indicated.

By afternoon of 28th we were on board the Crocodile, and away from Alexandria. On New Year’s Day anchored in the Grand Harbour of Malta, in which as companions our transport had British ironclads, and vessels of all sorts belonging to various nationalities. Resuming our voyage on the 3rd, we passed Gibraltar on the 6th; thence homeward the passage was short but boisterous. On the 12th we landed at Portsmouth, our leave-taking very different in kind from that on quitting the Euphrates.

CHAPTER XXV

1868–1870. PORTSMOUTH

Duties – Geology – Societies formed – Portland prison – Parkhurst – Garrison prisons – Gymnastics – Arrival of 33rd and 101st Regiments – Man of 3rd Light Dragoons – Sale of decorations – Illness – Discharging soldiers – Comments.

Appointed to the Southern District,269 the duties connected with departmental administration were entered upon without delay. Within the garrison of Portsmouth, headquarters of the district, they included work relating to embarking and disembarking troops, in addition to ordinary routine; through the district, inspections of military establishments and places with which I was already familiar.

In visiting establishments on the Isle of Wight some pleasant excursions were taken in company with a kindred spirit270 in regard to natural things. With geological map in hand,271 we walked from point to point comparing the strata as we proceeded with the several illustrative sketches there presented. So also official visits to the Isle of Portland gave opportunity of studying the history presented by its rocks and strata, with regard to its alternating elevations and submergences in geological periods. The operations in progress at Spithead in connection with forts intended to be built there supplied with ample material in different shapes those among us whose tastes led us to take interest in them.

Among our numbers were several men devoted to different branches of natural history; others whose tastes and pursuits were in more purely professional subjects. By means of a happy combination between the two a society272 was set on foot, a room with fuel and light assigned to its use by the War Office, and an excellent library collected. Papers were read at its meetings, abstracts being published in the London professional journals. So great was the success which attended our efforts that a society of allied kind was established by scientific and professional residents of Portsmouth and its vicinity.

The then governor of Portland convict prison had previously held a similar position at Norfolk Island, to which at that time the worst and most desperate criminals were sent from New South Wales. The men he had there to deal with were the most desperate and reckless of their class; but some of the accounts Mr. Clifton gave regarding his method towards them were most interesting, some even pathetic, the keynote of his system having been, on suitable occasions, to appeal to their human nature. With evident gusto we were invited to enter what he called his museum of implements with which from time to time attempts on his life had been made by convicts under his charge; and very miscellaneous were they as they lay upon their shelves, duly labelled and arranged. Among the convicts were some who had in their day occupied high social position, one of them in particular. Passing them as we did, our gaze was averted as we did so, but it was not in us to withhold from them a thought of pity.

At Parkhurst the “governor” of the convict prison was a lady, the convicts being women. It was the boast of Mrs. Gibson that, in maintaining discipline and administering justice for offences, no barrier of any kind separated her from the offender brought before her, and yet, unlike the experience already mentioned, with the exception of one occasion, violence had never been offered her. “Unless,” said she, “I have sufficient moral power to maintain order, my influence would be gone.” Her daughter had been carefully tended from infancy to womanhood by a life convict. But among her prisoners were some whose disposition was most desperate; there were others who, when they “felt a fit of passion coming on,” made request to their “governor” that, as a favour, she would allow them to “go to the pump,” so that by the violent exertion there required of them they might “work it off.” A short time previous there had been under her charge as life convict a young lady, the story of whose “crime” and conviction occupied public attention to a more than usual degree, the question of her guilt being no less discussed than were the circumstances under which her confession had been obtained, the reality of that confession, and the relation of “confessors” to the individual on the one hand, and to law on the other.

The periodical inspection of Garrison prisoners came within the ordinary routine of duty. As a matter of information, inquiries on such occasions were directed to the effect, if any, of punishments undergone by soldiers in deterring them from subsequent crime, the usual reply received being that “the same men come here over and over again.” Past experience in regiments had been to the same effect in regard to offences, and to a considerable extent also to men coming “on the sick report” to hospital, the numbers of the latter depending greatly upon the kind of duty, parades, drills, and so on, that was about to take place. Regimental surgeons understood all such moves on the part of the men, and for the most part were able to estimate at its approximate value the statements made by individuals.

While visiting a military gymnasium, attention was drawn to performances by the non-commissioned officer in charge, a noted gymnast, some of whose feats on the trapeze and otherwise were remarkable as showing high proficiency in his art. At the time of their performance his appearance indicated advanced phthisis, and within a month thereafter he succumbed to that condition. Other instances more or less similar to his have come under notice, indicating that the ability to perform feats of “strength” and agility is not a constant indication of robust health, although it may be of “knack” acquired by practice.

Duty brought me in contact from time to time with regiments with which on previous occasions I had been associated; for example, the 34th at Azimghur, 35th at Dinapore, 97th at Sooltanpore, and 67th at Tientsin. The arrival of the 33rd from Abyssinia was made an occasion to do honour to the gallant “West Ridings” for its services in that campaign. That of the 101st on its first tour of home service was attended by various incidents, some amusing in their way, showing how new to the men were the conditions in which they found themselves. Fortunately for them “comrades” in garrison gave them willing help in landing baggage, carrying coals, filling straw beds, and so on.

Visiting the barracks at Chichester, I learned some particulars with reference to the sequel of the incident connected with a soldier of the 3rd Light Dragoons at Wuzzeerabad in 1853. That regiment now occupied those barracks preparatory to going on foreign service, but so numerous had been the changes during the interval that with difficulty was one man found who remembered it. According to his account the particulars given by the man then alluded to, in regard to his part in the murder on Wandsworth Common, the disposal of watch and chain of his victim, were confirmed by subsequent inquiries. The man himself was condemned to a lunatic asylum, and there he died.

While walking along High Street on one occasion, attention was attracted to two medals exposed for sale in the window of a well-known silversmith of that day. To them was attached a short printed notice relating that they were the identical decorations presented to the two men most distinguished for gallantry in the battle of Waterloo. In default of heirs they had come to be among the contents of an old curiosity shop. They had respectively been bestowed upon Colonel Macdonell and Sergeant Graham, both of the Coldstream Guards, for their defence of Hougomont against the combined forces under Jerome Bonaparte, Foy, and Bachelu. On subsequent occasions, orders and decorations for the Mutiny campaign were, for lack of heirs, sold by public auction; a commentary on the passing value of such things, highly prized though they are by those on whom, for services rendered, they were conferred in the first instance.

In the spring of 1870 I experienced in person what in many other instances is a sequence of continued attacks of malarious illness, in that they seemed to culminate in one of great severity, even after nearly a year and a half of English climate. To the great care and skill of two army surgeons273 I owe my recovery – indeed, my life.

Restoration to full activity was slow. Meantime, a duty devolved upon me the nature of which was unpleasant, as it seemed to me invidious. A scheme of Army retrenchment was to be enforced. In accordance therewith reductions in the numbers of men borne on their rolls were ordered to be carried out in regiments in our particular district as in others; the instructions under which officers concerned were obliged to act leaving to them little, if any, discretionary power.

The classes of men to be selected for discharge, and so make room for recruits to be enlisted under the short service system, comprised – (1) the sickly and weak; (2) those of bad character; (3) those who for reasons of their own were desirous of obtaining discharge. It was felt that, of the first, the greater number would be cast adrift, incapable of earning a livelihood, and so be thrown upon parish relief; that by the second, a number of incorrigible characters would be let loose on the public, to prey upon it either by begging or by crime, to be further a burthen to the taxpayer in respect to expenses of prosecution, and of maintenance in prison while undergoing punishment for crimes committed. The third class was composed of those who, having become trained soldiers, inured to discipline, were lost to the service when their individual value was at its greatest. Some of us felt strongly then that such numerical reductions as were deemed necessary, on account of public reasons, might have been carried out by the more gradual and less objectionable method of ceasing to recruit for a few weeks or months.

CHAPTER XXVI

1870. JULY-SEPTEMBER. FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR. SIEGE OF PARIS

Franco-Prussian War – Appointed to the French – German successes – Arrive in Paris – Rumours – Aspect – Ministry of War – Champ de Mars – Captured as a Prussian spy – Rumours and facts – A disturbed night – Revolution of September 4 – Escape of the Empress – Vinoy arrives from Mezières – After the Revolution – The outlook – Arming the masses – Approach of the enemy —Levée en masse– Aspect of the city – Versailles “honourably” capitulated – Provisioning – Present and prospective evils – City gates closed – Preparations for the defence – Police in abeyance – Paris encircled – Some ambassadors quit – Conditions within – Arrangements for wounded.

In the middle of July (1870) the morning papers recorded the incident at Ems, soon to become famous, between Benedetti and the King of Prussia, its effect in Paris a demand for war, and by the populace shouts of “À Berlin!” Events rapidly developed; the Powers concerned prepared for war; proffered mediation by England rejected by France. On the 21st of that month war was declared by the King of Prussia; on the 23rd by the Emperor of the French; on August 2 the young Prince Imperial received his baptême de feu;274 war had begun.

A few days thereafter I was warned for service with the French in the capacity of Medical Commissioner, to report to the War Office on certain specified points relating to military organization in the field. Aware of the importance of duties before me, preparations were quickly made for entering upon them, including the payment of heavy extra premium to an insurance office.

From that time onwards my attention was directed to the remarkable development of military events by which those declarations were followed. In the first instance there was the small success of the French at Saarbruck on August 2, followed on the 4th by their severe defeat at Weissenburg, after which one defeat after another followed in quick succession; namely, Woerth and Spicheren on the 6th; Forbachen on the 7th; St. Avold on the 9th, when the partial investment of Metz began; Strasburg invested on the 10th; the battle of Courcelles or Longville, near Penge, on the 14th; the battles of Mars la Tour, Gravelotte, and St. Privat, 16th to 18th, both inclusive, leading to the complete investment of Metz. The aspect of affairs had been so affected by those events that preparations for the defence of Paris began on the 23rd. The Germans following up their victories by that of Beaumont, near the Belgian frontier, on the 30th, forced MacMahon to fall back upon Sedan, after sustaining very severe losses in men, guns, and stores. In other directions, during the same period, one success after another continued to attend the advance of the invaders.

The 1st of September was with me a busy day; among its incidents, receiving instructions from the War Office, special passport from the Foreign Office, letter of credit and necessary cash from agents, and lastly, taking leave of my beloved wife. Leaving Charing Cross by the 8.45 p.m. train, I arrived in Paris early the following morning. Later in the day, in obedience to orders, I reported my arrival to the British Embassy, presenting at the same time my official credentials. I was informed that an application would be made to the Ministry of War for a sauf conduit, to enable me to proceed and join the “Army of the Rhine” under Marshal MacMahon, at that time “somewhere between Verdun and Mezières, on the left side of the Meuse.”

An impression was “in the air” that all was not well with that army, but beyond rumours more or less vague nothing seemed to indicate knowledge of actual events of the previous day, still in progress at, and in the vicinity of Sedan. Afternoon and evening brought more definite particulars; telegrams from Mezières announced that MacMahon was wounded, fugitives inundating that town, all communication with Sedan “interrupted”; but to inquiries made in official quarters there was silence.

We had observed that near the Gare du Nord large numbers of workmen were engaged on the fortifications in that direction. Within the walls bodies of armed men, some in uniform, many not, marched along the thoroughfares or were undergoing drill. As day advanced crowds assembled at corners; pedestrians increased in number; kiosks and windows presented caricatures, in execrable taste, of Prussians from king to peasant. The Champs Elysées was comparatively deserted; already it had an unkept appearance. Here and there a small group gazed at the performances of Punchinello; a few equipages drove along its centre way. Agencies of various Sociétés des Secours aux Blessés had taken up positions in large buildings or open spaces; from many windows and over entrances floated Red Cross flags.

At an early hour on the 3rd, Colonel Claremont, Military Secretary to the British Embassy, conducted me to the several offices, from one or other of which he expected that the necessary orders would be issued to enable me to carry out the mission assigned to me. Failing to obtain those orders at one and all so visited, he made direct application to the Minister for War, but with no other result than an intimation that “the correspondence on the subject must pass through the ordinary routine, and in the meantime I must wait.” It was evident that something very unusual had taken place or was in progress; the demeanour of the officials with whom we came in contact indicated the fact with sufficient clearness. Colonel Claremont was in all probability made acquainted with the nature of the events in question, for as we separated, each to proceed his own way, his parting remark was, “I don’t expect now that you will go much beyond Paris.”

The Champ de Mars forms a huge camp ground; tentes abri, guns, waggons, tumbrils, horses, and men crowd the space so named. Infantry of the line there are in battalions, many of them undergoing the earlier stages of military drill, their style and general aspect far from realizing the British idea of what is soldier-like. The arrangement of the camp itself, including tents, matériel, conveniences and necessities, slovenly and untidy.

In its immediate vicinity the Seine was a washtub for the troops, many of whom were occupied in beating, scrubbing, and otherwise cleansing articles of their clothing in the edge of the stream. I lean over the parapet and observe the process. I am grasped by a soldier;275 others hurry to his aid; I am captured, a prisoner. The spy mania is rampant. I am marched off as such, first to one “post,” then to another; passport and other official documents taken from me; my escort increasing as we proceeded. It comprises cavalry, infantry, and gamins, the latter becoming more and more “demonstrative” in their behaviour as we went, now shouting, “À bas le Prussien!” “À bas Bismarck!” now laying hands roughly upon me, until it looks as if in their excitement things might fare badly with me. Arrived at a police station in the Rue Grenelle, I found myself deposited in the company of a very miscellaneous assortment of prisonniers, and there spent some two or three hours as best I could. At the end of that time my credentials were flung at, rather than given back to me; the official of the place pointed to the door, and without deigning a look at me said, “Voilà! Allez,” and so we parted. Naturally enough I was indignant, and on reaching my hotel declared my intention to report to our Representative the episode through which I had passed; but was quietly informed by others better acquainted than I then was with the state of affairs, that I need not trouble myself; he would do nothing in the matter.

As evening wore on, rumours of the morning assumed the aspect of facts, terrible in their nature as they were unlooked for and unexpected: the French had been hopelessly defeated at Sedan; MacMahon wounded and a prisoner; the Emperor a prisoner; 40,000 men276 of his army prisoners; no obstacle to delay, far less prevent, the advance of the Prussians upon Paris. All was excitement along the streets and boulevards; shouts were heard of “Déchéance!” and “Vive la République!” Doubts and fears were expressed as to what on the morrow the fate of the Empress, who was still in the Tuileries, might possibly be.

All through the following night there were sounds of movement in the streets: the tread of troops on the march, the heavy roll of guns, tumbrils, and waggons. In the Chamber of Deputies transactions were in progress the nature of which did not transpire till long afterwards, though the results were to be seen within the space of a few hours. Men, who till then had been ministers and other officials of the Emperor, declared shortly after midnight the Imperial regime had ceased;277 they elected from among themselves what was intended to be a “Governing Commission,” and so discounted the events of the morrow. No wonder that such a self-chosen body failed to receive general acceptance, as indeed was scarcely to be looked for considering the many discordant political elements existing within the capital.

From early morning of Sunday, the 4th, a dense and tumultuous crowd filled the Place de la Concorde; in the Rue Royale and Faubourg St. Honoré workmen were hauling down Imperial eagles and “N’s,” by which various public buildings were distinguished and ornamented, the mob cheering them as they proceeded with their self-imposed work. The gates of the Tuileries gardens were open, the gardens of the palace filled with people; down the Rue de Rivoli, and upwards towards the Arc de Triomphe, the Champs Elysées, streams of people were in motion. Across the entrance to the bridge leading to the palace of the Corps Législatif, a body of regular troops was drawn up with bayonets fixed. Down along the Champs Elysées marched in cadence to beat of drum and note of bugle an imposing force of National Guards. Nearer and nearer they came; greater and greater was the excitement in the crowd, including the small body of foreigners who, like myself, were irresistibly drawn to, and by curiosity held in the scene. A moment more and the two sets of forces must have been in actual collision with each other – with what consequences who could predict? Then were raised upon bayonet points the képis of the regulars, as from their ranks the shout burst forth, “Vive la Garde Nationale!” The latter instantly followed suit; the shout of “Vive la Ligne!” told us that fraternization was complete. The hall of the Legislature was immediately occupied by the bourgeois; half an hour later the Government of the Defence was proclaimed in the Hôtel de Ville. Armed men in blouses took the place of sentries of the Guard at the Tuileries; the tricolour still waved above the central dome of the palace. The sympathy of us foreigners who mingled in the crowd was with the Empress, as we expressed to each other in subdued tones, our wonder as to the means by which her escape would be effected, or whether she was to fall into the hands of the masses, now wild with excitement as they yelled out “Déchéance!” “Vive la Nation!” “Vive la République!” interspersed with still more threatening ejaculations. That a Revolution had taken place, the Empire given place to the Republic, was evident; the apparent ease with which that great change had been effected was matter of surprise to onlookers, and to the people by whom it was effected. In the Place de la Concorde the sergeants de ville were roughly handled, old scores paid off, in some few instances their lives taken; the statues of Strasbourg and other cities were draped in crimson cloth; then came along the quays bodies of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, not to open fire upon the revolutionary crowds, but in progress to the outskirts of the city.

Long after the occurrence of the events just related, the circumstance transpired that arrangements had in anticipation been made to ensure the safety of the Empress. The passages of the palace and inner gates were occupied and otherwise protected by a considerable force of the Imperial Guard, so that as in their haste the crowd rushed in from the direction of the Place de la Concorde, they were moved on and on until they emerged from the palace into the Cour de Carrousel, where, finding themselves so far outmanœuvred, they stood irresolute. It was then that, taking advantage of their confusion, the escape of the Empress was effected by the aid of Prince Metternich and Madame La Breton Bourbaki; whether with that of M. F. de Lesseps or not seems to be questioned.