Part 19

I met here Mr. Robert Dunn, war correspondent of the New York Evening Post, who is the only newspaper man I have talked with who really saw the fighting near La Câteau and Saint Quentin. Mr. Dunn went on a train with his bicycle last week, provided only with a laisser-passer for Aulnay in the Department of the North. The train was brought to a stop near Aulnay, and the passengers were informed that German cavalry occupied the line a couple of kilometers further on. Every one got out. Mr. Dunn jumped on his bicycle and wheeled off to La Câteau. Here he met the British retreating in good order. He remained with them as they retired toward Saint Quentin. He saw them spread out in thin lines and pick off the German gunners by their splendid marksmanship. Most of the British were wounded by shells. Very few of them had bullet wounds. At Saint Quentin a few Highlanders came limping along, thoroughly exhausted with their five days' continuous fighting. But although pale and hungry, their jaws were set with determined grit. Their superb pluck impressed Mr. Dunn immensely. As they were sitting at a café, some French soldiers led away a German spy, with a towel wrapped around his eyes. The man was executed.

I met a British staff officer at Brentano's bookstore, as he was buying maps of the environs of Paris. I told him that Lord Kitchener had been to Paris and had conferred with M. Millerand, the French Minister of War. The officer said: "I am glad to hear of that, because at a certain phase of the fighting in the north, the French completely failed to support us."

I called upon Mr. William G. Sharp, the newly appointed United States Ambassador, and upon Mr. Robert Bacon, the former United States Ambassador. Both are stopping at the Hôtel de Crillon. The Paris newspapers seem highly pleased at this "strong diplomatic manifestation"--the American Ambassador of yesterday, the American Ambassador of today, and the American Ambassador of tomorrow --constituting a delegation from the United States to see that the rights of universal humanity are respected. Parisians salute the Star Spangled Banner as it floats over the American Embassy as the symbol of the "World's Vigilance against Barbarity,"--such are the words of La Liberté. M. Gabriel Hanotaux, writing in the Figaro, attaches equal importance to the attitude of the United States as interpreted by its three representatives, saying: "Mr. Herrick is very happily not leaving us. He has followed the whole course of events which led to this fatal war, watching with a just and noble spirit. He has kept his Government accurately informed of all, and he will continue at the head of the Embassy."

The Matin says, "that of all the diplomatists accredited to France, it was Mr. Herrick who took the gallant initiative to remain in Paris, and Parisians deeply appreciate this. In making this choice, Mr. Herrick said that he regarded Paris not only as the capital of France, but as that 'Metropolis of the World' spoken of by Marcus Aurelius. He feels that he is the American Ambassador to both these cities. In his eyes this 'Metropolis of the World' possesses a Government, invisible doubtless, but perpetually present, and one with which he wishes to remain in touch. It is at one and the same time to Paris, in its period of trial, and to the fatherland of the human race, that Mr. Herrick wishes to give the pledge of his affection. Thus he is remaining as a link between those of his compatriots who are residing among us and the citizens of the free Republic across the sea that has more than once declared itself the sister Republic and which professes as much love for our 'traditions' as we ourselves esteem the passion for 'progress', of which it gives the example."

Saturday, September 5.

Thirty-fourth day of the war. Hazy autumnal morning, clear and hot in the afternoon, with light northerly breeze. Thermometer at five P.M. 26 degrees centigrade.

Germans appear to have evacuated the Compiègne-Senlis region, and are apparently moving towards the southeast, thus continuing a movement that began on Friday. General Cherfils, the military critic of the Gaulois, taking a very optimistic view of the situation, thinks the movement may be to assure a retreat by some route other than by a return through Belgium. General Cherfils says: "This rush of the German right wing upon Paris is the last bluff of terrorism of the last German Emperor! The Kaiser thought that he could frighten us and induce France to make peace. After which he would be free to return with his armies against Russia."

Mr. d'Arcy Morel, the financial correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph, came to see me to-day. He lives at Reuil, in the military zone northwest of Fort Mount-Valérian. He had been up all night, getting his belongings to Paris, and had just sent his little daughter to Dieppe on her way to England. Mr. Morel said that the night trains out of Paris at the Gare Saint-Lazare were filled to overflowing. No lights were permitted in the cars, and a dozen soldiers with loaded rifles were placed in a car just behind the locomotive, and a dozen more soldiers at the rear end of the train. These trains stop at every station and take about ten hours to reach Dieppe, instead of four hours as usual. Precautions of guarding the trains are made because several German armored motor-cars had been signalled dashing about near Marly and Pontoise. The gardener of my little place at Vernon, which is on the western line of the Seine, at a point where it is intersected by a strategic line between Chartres in the south and Gisors and Beauvais in the north, seems to be confident that Vernon will not be occupied by the Germans, for he managed to send me today a big basket full of peaches, pears, string beans, and green corn.

To-day the first oysters make their appearance! This event, trivial in itself, is significant as showing that the Paris central markets are able to supply Parisians not only with necessities but with luxuries. The mute oyster that comes in with the months having the letter "R" in their names bears eloquent testimony to uninterrupted communications.

I looked in for a few moments this afternoon at the National Library in the Rue de Richelieu. No signs of war here! A score of inveterate bookworms were pondering over dusty volumes, inquisitive writers were exploring literature bearing upon the war of 1870, seeking precedents and parallels for coming events; a few ladies were looking up files of old newspapers and fashion plates. The National Library seemed exactly as in the most peaceful days.

I lunched to-day at the restaurant Beaugé, in the Rue Saint-Marc, a favorite resort of journalists. The manager told me that it would be closed that evening. It seems that he had received a "third warning" not to keep open after half-past nine. As he could never pluck up courage to eject his customers while enjoying succulent repasts, he decided to shut up his place altogether. The suggestion made by an Irishman, Mr. Sullivan of Reuter's Agency, to employ a London "chucker-out" did not at all appeal to his notions of the traditions of Parisian gastronomic hospitality.

I met to-day another British officer buying books at Brentano's. He gave me a picturesque description of the German method of advance. "It is the scientific development of the wild, fanatic, life-regardless, condensed rush of the Soudan dervishes," he said. "The Germans mass together all their big field guns. They close in around them serried infantry, goaded on by their wonderful, machine-made, non-commissioned officers, who prick them with sword bayonets, and whenever, from wounds or from sheer exhaustion, men fall out, they are shoved aside, to die by the roadside, or to be trampled under foot, like mechanical tools that have become useless. The German officers and non-commissioned officers are utterly regardless of life. The German flanks are protected by quantities of machine guns placed so close together that their gunners jostle one another. This strange engine of modern warfare creeps on like a monster of the apocalypse, carrying all before it. Aeroplanes hovering over the fronts of the columns direct movements by signalling. The dense, serried mass of infantry offers a splendid target. The losses must have been frightful--exceeding anything recorded in modern war. The German infantry are poor marksmen. They don't know how to shoot. Scarcely any of our men were wounded by bullets. Nearly all the wounds were inflicted by shells."

The Marquis de Valtierra has been appointed Spanish Ambassador to the French Republic, in place of the Marquis de Villa Urrutia, who has resigned. The new Ambassador, who has presented his credentials to President Poincaré at Bordeaux, and who is expected to arrive in Paris to-morrow, has not followed a diplomatic career. He is a captain-general --a title corresponding with that of an army corps commander in France--and until a few days ago was in command of the military region of Burgos.

News that the representatives of France, Great Britain, and Russia have signed an agreement in London not to make peace without previous understanding with the others, meets with popular approval here, and is taken as further evidence that the allies are determined to fight the war to a finish.

Sunday, September 6.

Thirty-fifth day of the war. Ideal September weather, with light easterly wind. Temperature at five P.M. 24 degrees centigrade. The moon is now full.

Instead of making a ferocious attaque brusquée on Paris, the four army corps composing the German right wing are moving southeastward, in a supreme effort to crush the left flank of the French center, which is reported to be engaged with the main German forces near Rethel, striving to cut off and surround the French center, and thus achieve a second, but far more gigantic, Sedan. In any event, the Germans are certainly moving away from Paris to the southeast.

Paris assumes a holiday aspect. Thousands of people made excursions to the suburbs of the city, and particularly to the Bois de Boulogne, to see something of the preparations for the defence. Boys and girls from boarding-schools, under care of their teachers, were among those who watched gangs of men digging wide and deep trenches, while trees that obstructed the ground in the vicinity were being cut down.

The daily crop of Paris newspapers is becoming beautifully less. The Temps published its last Paris issue on Friday and has transferred its headquarters to Bordeaux. M. Georges Clemençeau's Homme Libre has ceased to appear. So also have the Gil Blas and Autorité. The Daily Mail has migrated to Bordeaux. Most of the newspapers that remain are published on a single sheet. The veteran Journal des Débats announces that for one hundred and twenty-five years it has appeared in Paris, being interrupted only at rare and brief intervals when provisional governments, resulting from violence, by brute force prevented publication. Le Journal des Débats will continue to be printed and published in Paris "so long as it is materially possible to do so." M. Arthur Meyer, editor and proprietor of Le Gaulois, announces that he will "remain in Paris in 1914 as he did in 1870." He will continue to edit and publish the Gaulois in Paris, having around him "a small family of editors and reporters, who replace my own family, now, Alas! far away!" The Echo de Paris continues to publish each day an edition of four pages. So also does Le Figaro. The Matin and Liberté appear on single sheets.

The European edition of the New York Herald appears every day on its nice white glazed papier de luxe, in a four-page edition Sundays, and on a single sheet on week days. The Paris Herald, as it is familiarly called, is printed half in English and half in French. The war has not frightened away the venerable "Old Philadelphia Lady," who daily continues, as she has done since Christmas eve, 1899, to put the following question:

TO THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD:--

I am anxious to find out the way to figure the temperature from Centigrade to Fahrenheit and vice-versâ. In other words, I want to know, whenever I see the temperature designated on Centigrade thermometer, how to find out what it would be on Fahrenheit's thermometer.

OLD PHILADELPHIA LADY.

Paris, December 24, 1899.

Monday, September 7.

Thirty-sixth day of the war. Hot September weather, with brisk east wind. Temperature at five P.M. 24 degrees centigrade.

The great battle begun Sunday morning continues with slight advantages obtained by the allies and extends over a front of one hundred and thirty miles, from Nanteuil le Haudoin, on the allied left, to Verdun. The allies occupy very strong positions. Their left is supported by Paris, their right by the fortresses of Verdun, and their center by the entrenched camps of Mailly, just south of Vitry-le-François.

About thirty American and English newspaper men met at lunch to-day at the restaurant Hubin, Number 22 Rue Brouot. Among those present were Fullerton, Grundy, MacAlpin, Williams, Knox, Reeves, O'Niel, Sims, and others. Every one was in fine spirits, the trend of feeling being that Paris was the most interesting place to be in just now, and that perhaps the best story of the war may yet be written in Paris.