FROM PARIS TO LONDON.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 154, 19 January 1871, Page 7

FROM PARIS TO LONDON.

A gentleman who had been " caught in Paris " at the commencement of the siege determined, in company with three friends, to make his way out of the city and return home. He succeeded in his attempt, and wrote a narrative of his proceeding for the " Times." We cannot afford space for the whole, but in the extracts we give will be found the most graphic and life-like description, of the state of France a month or six weeks ago that has yet been published. We leave the traveller 'to tell his own tale. The party having secured a vehicle proposed to start on the 22nd September. They secured an Englishman as a driver : — " Thomas, otherwise 'Tommy ' — Webb is an old English jockey, who had gone over to France with Charles X., and, now, in his declining years, is reduced to driving Parisians about in a hach cab. Tommy never hesitated about the journey. We tell him he may have to drive us to Mantes. ' All right, Sir,' says Tommy. We tell him he may have to drive us to Eouen. ' All right, Sir,' says Tommy. We mention that possibly he may have to take coach, horses, and travellers all the way to the sea-coast — to Dieppe or Havre. ' All right, Sir.' still says

Tommy ; ' feed horses well and man well, and they'll take you anywheres.' Then we hinted at the risk of a stray bullet perforating Tommy's tall hat ; but Tommy only winked at us from his box, and said, ' Never you be afeard of them hollarin' Frenchmen, gen'J'men ; and, as for the Proosians, Lor' bless you, they wouldn'thurt au En<>lisher.' "

The writer continues: — "We started and drove along the Champs Elysees, where hundreds of. the G-arde Mobile, encamped there for the night, were now roasting their morning coffee. Past the barricades, across, the drawbridge, aud away towards the country, we soon reach the outpost which barred our progress yesterday. Confident in the omnipotence of General Trochu's name we present our pass. But here the officials, after consultation, know no authority in the matter of permits but G-enoral Ducrot, and to General Ducrot we must return. A long drive back, and at last we have the required endorsement. Noon brought us fairly beyond the French lines, a bright sky overhead, a lovely landscape stretching before us in marvellous clearness, and an air so soft and still that it was hard to believe in the discord around. Reaching Nanterre, the first village outside Paris, we found ifc lon<r since deserted. So it was at llueil, save for some half-dozen ancient peasants too old to remove and too weak to resist. These implore us not to go further ; but our object is to reach the Prussian lines, and we drive on. Passing along a very__guiet country road, and looking "eagerly out for the Prussians, we suddenly hear an emphatic ' Halt ! ' Looking out and getting out, we see, some fifty yards in front, two soldiers, unmistakably Prussians, each with his rifle levelled straight at us. Conversing at this distance of fifty yards, we just manage German enough to say that we are Englishmen on our way to England, and that we wish to be taken to head-quarters. ' G-o to Versailles — go instantly, or I fire !' is the only and angry reply. We lose no time in wheeling about, and seeking another entrance to the Prussian lines. Trotting quietly by winding country ways towards Versailles, and just where the road was verged by wood on either side we are startled by another sudden ' Halt ! ' Tommy, who has no notion of pulling up at the bidding of every man who shows a gun, drives quietly on. In a moment a young fellow, little more than a boy, head and breast uncovered, trembling with excitement, holds a revolver within half a foot of the head of my friend opposite, and again cries ' Halt, Halt ! ' By some means Tommy does halt, and now we have twelve or fourteen Franc-tireurs howling round us. One surly bandit declares that, English or no English, we shall not go free. But the captain, having read Trochu's pass and lit one of our cigars, is satisfied ; he warns us at the same time that on the other side of the rising ground before us is a troop of Prussians, which he is about to attack with his band of 200 men. Presently we enter St. Cloud. Not a sound, not a sign of life anywhere. The clang of our horses' hoofs echoes dismally along the empty streets. Tired and hungry, we break open our hampers and breakfast on the delicacies of the Grand Hotel, among which are sis fat chickens at 16 francs each, and three patties for 65 fanes — seeming to speak already of famine prices in Paris. Our rude meal over, we pass the night in the adjoining stable, with faggots for mai tress and hay for our coverlet. All night long brisk firing is going on about us, and an officer is cent from the neighbouring camp to extinguish our fire, lest its light should attract the enemy. A brilliant sun and the rattle of rifle-shots exchanged between the Prussian outpost and the Francstireurs awake us betimes, and after more coffee boiled on a blazing dogkennel we start for Versailles via Sevres, the sergeant of our guard having received orders to this effect during the night. Ominous orders they eecm, for the officers last night showed us King William's laconic order that any one making the Prussians lines shall be immediately turned back by ,tbis route. We pass- little hamlets where hundreds of troops are

cooking their morning meal on the village common, lovely country lanes, and quiet chateaux, in front of one of which stands a rough deal table still covered with champagne bottles and surrounded by three or four couches of gorgeous gold and satin, and reach Sevres. We are not allowed to enter the town. A troop of cavalry meets us at the entrance, and our escort receives instructions to take us by a byway to Versailles. Half way to Versailles we are stopped by a general at the head of his staff On learning who we are and whence we have come the captain of our guard is furiously scolded by this officer, our carriage is wheeled about, and we, who have been enjoying a walk in the pleasant morning air, are ordered to get in instantly and blindfold ourselves. Care is taken that this operation is effected, and with our coachman seated blindfold on the top of the carriage, and replaced on the box by a soldier, we are driven we don't know where. For an hour — it may only have been ten minutes, but it seemed an hour — we pass rapidly along with an escort of cavalry clattering about us, when the carriage suddenly stops. Our captain (wo recognise his voice) asks for our letter to the Kron Prinz. With revived hope we fumble for the missive and hand it him. On again more rapidly than ever, till after another long hour we pull up and are allowed to alight and un-blind. We find ourselves in a narrow lane, between two high walls, and with so sudden a bend that on neither side can we see further than five yards. Here wo wait for three hours, when an officer returns with an answer to our appeal to the Prince. We are to be taken to Versailles. Blindfolded again, we are driven — so we suppose — by the way we came. When next allowed tho use of our eyes we feel we would almost rather have shut them for ever than have seen the sight before us. A fine sturdy young peasant in a blue blouse is being tightly pinioned and tied to a trooper's charger, and, asking his f:ite, he is told that to-morrow ho is to make ' laf/mnJe tour — i.e., to be shot through the head. Poor wretch ! He had shot a Prussian the day before, and had just been captured. Blinded again, we at last know we are entering Versailles by the clatter of the hoi'ses hoofs and the hum oi voices about us. We are amazed here by a hearty English voice calling out, ' Good morning, gentlemen ; I am sorry to see you in such a plight. My name is Colonel Walker. I have to ride on with part of the Prince's staff to the outposts, but will be back at five, when I shall see you and do what I can to help you.' Presently we arrive at the Commandant's quarters, and are finally i*estored to sight. .Here we are introduced to a young lieutenant, under whose charge wo are to remain until further orders. From this we are driven under a guard of cavalry, with drawn swords, to the Mairie, while the hapless townspeople crowd the way and look and speak their sympathy. At the Mairie we are ushered into two fair-sized rooms, in

• • :h of which is placed a sentinel with loaded musket ; and here witja the strictest orders that we neither read nor write, nor communicate in any way with any one, our lieutenant leaves us, taking our written parole that we make no attempt to escape. A furious Frenchman was sent to wait on us, but the sentinel, sticking literally to orders, considered this a breach of discipline, and it was many hours before our lieutenant returned, and dinner with him. Meanwhile our gloom had been relieved by the startling vision of three English ladies, burning with indignation at the sight of their imprisoned countrymen. ' You here ! Englishmen ! and with sentries too ! Such insolence ! We will go to Colonel Walker — to the Crown Prince.' Anything or everything rather than we should stay there. They did go for Colonel Walker, and we never saw them again. Heaven bless them ! They were nursing the wounded in the Mairie ; and if by any chance they see this paper, and aid be wanted for the sick, they need but give one hint to the address on the card left for them. In the middle of our meal Colonel Walker came in on his way to a grand banquet at the Palace, and, after wondering how we had got through the lines without being shot, promised, as British Attache, to say what he could for us to the Crown Prince. The two rooms boasted one bed, which we gave to the Italian. The friendly matron of the Mairie (now used as an hospital) supplied the rest of us with bedding on the floor. Sunday in the Mairie at Versailles, with church bell ringing and townsfolk cunning themselves without, but for us only these four dismal walls all day long ! Nothing broke the monotony of the day but a visit from Colonel Walker. The Prince had got our letter, and had left the matter to General Von Blumenthal. Next morning, with two oflicers in a carriage, and three troopers on horseback as our escort, away we went. What magnificent roads French highways are! always smooth and always going straight at the mark, always bordered by trim and beautiful foliage, and often by luxuriant fruit trees, Our guards leap the ditch to pluck the ripened fruit, and we lunch on delicious peara and plums instead of stale chicken. But the smoothest roads will try a crazy vehicle, and at a lonely spot ours broke down. Some nut had worn away, according to

Tommy, and no human power could replace it, except the smith in Paris — anyhow, no power on this road could do it. At the next village, however, our officer soon laid hands on another carriage. It was late at night when we reached Corbeil, where a magnificent bridge had been blown up by the French on the approach of the Prussians only three weeks before. Already this was replaced by a pontoon and a wooden bridge, by which we crossed the river to Corbeil. Here a surly .commandant, not wishing to have the trouble of lodging us, gave us a fresh escoi-t, and before we knew where we were, we were again on the way. Ou? horses were done up when, after midnight, we reached a small and dirty village called Moesse, where we slept in a row on the bakery floor. A long journey next day brought us through a lovely country, every inch of which was cultivated, to the chateau of M. Chausson, the champagne grower. This pretty country house was occupied a week before by Prussian officers, who committed no further outrage than that of breaking open the wine-cellar. 13einc: English we were treated by M. Chausson's servants, who exhumed for us their master's table linen from fie pit in which it had been hid, and for onoe we slept luxuriously. Next morning we started early and reached Meaux by noon, where the misguided French had broken down two massive bridges crossing the Marne. Misguided, for the town was covered with prolainations ordering the inhabitants to replace them within three days, under tremendous penalties. A fine old town is Meaux, with a magnificent old church, and it was sad to see the townspeople standing listlessly about the streets, completely cowed by the presence of their enemies. A long day brought ua to the liille village of Buzancy, where the Mayor found us comfortable quarters enough. Poor man! he had live oflicers billeted at his own house, and they, not liking the dinner supplied by his good wife, had departed in dudgeon, and sent thirty soldiers instead. Here we could get nothing but hot milk for bieakfast. On entering these luckless villages the Prussians, it seemed, immediately seized upon all the coffee, tea, brandy, and cigars. Many a time did we offer bribes both to Prussians arid French in our efforts to get cigars, and ofte-i) without success. Near Chateau Thierry the Prussians, with forced labour from t^ie TYem-li, were* busy repairing a railway tunnrl whi -h had been blown up sonic weeks before. Here we expected to go on by rail to G-ermany. With no official of any description at the station, it was not easy to ascertain when trains would or would not go ; but we were assured there would be in the morning at, B o'clock, going by Chalons to Strasbourg. At 8, then, we duly appeared. The line was crowded witn vast trains of military supplies of all kinds, largoly contributed by private persons ' for the use of the army.' Six lonjj hours did we wait for the train, and then in four more we reached Epernay, a distance of twenty-five miles. Here we met Baron de Katte, who had just left the King at Ferrieres, on receiving his appointment as Prefect of the Ardennes, and with him we travelled, escort and all, in five carriages to Eheims, where surely is the roblest cathedral in the world. We slept at Rethel that night, where, as in many other towns and villages, there seemed to be a wonderfully small number of troops. True, wo passed great bodies of infantry, cavalry, and artillery pushing on to what was supposed to be the chief point of attack ; but one could not help thinking that if some real man were to arises and lead wisely the patriotism and power which were ready to his hand in the beleagured city, he might, at the least, break through and drive back for a time the thin circle which confined him. Sunday brought us to Sedan, where life already had resumed its wonted flow. Shops were open, and the town so crowded that it was only after a whole hour's search, we found one room, for liberty to sleep on the floor of which we were charged only 30 francs! Already, as we crossed the battle-field, a peasant was busy with his plough, and few traces of the strife remained. At one place two huge gun-carriages were overturned, and strewn along the sideway were hundreds of soldiers' knapsacks and broken helmets. Huge mounds marked the spot where thousands of brave men lie buried. We stopped at the little cottage where Napoleon and Bismarck had their famous interview. The old cottager took great pains to point out the precise spot on which their two chairs were placed outside, which two chairs were immediately bought and removed by an Englishman. Soon we passed through that scene of desolation, the village, or what was the village, of Bazeilies, burnt down house by house, because a mad patriot shot at the Prussian soldiers after Sedan had capitulated. The sight was hideous and appalling, and surely charity could find no more befitting object than those poor villagers. At noon on Monday, the 2nd of October, we crossed the Belgian frontier, and soon readied the Bouillon. Then we came to Libramcnt, where we parted with faithful Tommy. The railway quickly brought us to Brussels, whence we reached London, via Calais, on the thirteenth day out from Paris. The sun's first light was dimming the stars

as I drove across Hampstead-heath on my way home that gray morning, and I never felt so thankful for the blessing of being an Englishman, or so grateful for the eager faces that were waiting to welcome me at home."