Sunday, August 16
Fifteenth day of mobilization. Gray, cloudy day with occasional showers and westerly wind. Thermometer at five P.M. 17 degrees centigrade.
I drove out in the Bois de Boulogne after lunch with the Duc de Loubat. The Bois was rather deserted; only a few couples were strolling about or seated on benches reading newspapers. Went to the Cercle des Patineurs, where fences were being put up on the lawns to enclose sheep and oxen to provision Paris. In the tennis court we saw about two hundred Kabyles from Algeria, who had been found astray in Paris. They sleep on straw beds in the tennis court and are provided with rations. They are all men, and will be drafted into the Algerian reserves.
Madame Waddington, formerly Miss King of New York, and widow of the late William Henry Waddington, senator, and member of several French Cabinets, and one of the French delegates to the Berlin Conference in 1878, remains in Paris, and is stopping with her sister, Miss King, at her apartment in the Rue de La Tremouille. Madame Waddington was a great friend of the late King Edward VII, who never passed through Paris without calling to see her and lunching with her and her family. Madame Waddington, who is in excellent health and spirits, told me that the feeling was so strong against the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador, Count Szecsen de Temerin, during the last few days of his stay here after hostilities had begun with Germany, that one evening, as he was about to sit down to dinner with his fellow diplomatist, M. Alexandre Lahovary, the Roumanian Minister, at the Cercle de l’Union, which is one of the most select and restricted clubs of Paris, the secretary of the club requested M. Lahovary to announce to the Austrian Ambassador that the committee of the club expressed the wish that he should no longer take his meals at the club nor appear on the premises, because his presence under prevailing political conditions rendered the Austrian Ambassador an “undesirable personage.” The Austrian Ambassador, who had just ordered an excellent bottle of Mouton Rothschild claret for his dinner, at once left the club.
Parisians flocked in thousands to-day to the basilica of the Sacre Coeur of Montmartre, where special services were held. This church was planned and built in expiation of the war of 1870. It was finished only a few months ago, and was to have been definitely “inaugurated” next month.
A detachment of about four thousand men of the Naval Reserve, most of whom are Bretons, is encamped to the north of Paris at Le Bourget, and there have been stirring scenes in the little church there. It has been crowded with sailors and soldiers at every service, for Bretons are among the most religious of all peoples of France.
Abbé Marcadé, the curé of Le Bourget, has had magnificent congregations. On the Feast of the Assumption the Abbé decided to hold Mass in the open air. An altar was accordingly set up in a large field beside a haystack. Thirty-five hundred soldiers attended. At the end, the Abbé, standing on a table, preached a sermon in the falling rain.
These military services at Le Bourget have been strikingly picturesque. The Abbé’s sermons are interrupted from time to time by cheers, as if he were making a political speech. His words on patriotism and soldiers’ duty have been greeted with shouts of “Vive la France.” Loudest of all was the applause when he declared that feelings of party were now drowned in love for the country. In the evening, after the service at which this sermon was preached, the Abbé dined with the officers of the regiment and with the socialist mayor of the commune, a thing which would have been impossible in ordinary times. The war has made Frenchmen stand together in closer unity than they have ever done before.
One of the strangest changes brought about by the war is that of the fashionable race-courses of Auteuil and Longchamp. These have been turned into large grazing farms for sheep and cattle requisitioned by the military authorities. Another curious requisition is that of all French military uniforms in the wardrobes of the Paris theaters.
Mobilization orders to rejoin his regiment at Rheims on August 7 have been found in the possession of a wounded German soldier in hospital at Brussels. The man stated that several of his comrades had received orders to join the colors at other French towns on specified dates. This shows how the German plans were upset by the resistance at Liége.
Field-marshal Sir John French slept at the British Embassy last night, and after a rousing reception left Paris at seven o’clock this morning in an automobile for an “unknown destination.”
Every man in France is envying the young dragoon officer, Lieutenant Bruyant, who has been given the first Cross of the Legion of Honor in the war. The lieutenant with six men was scouting near the frontier, when suddenly he saw a number of horsemen moving a good way off, and made them out to be a patrol of twenty-seven Uhlans. Shots were exchanged and a German fell. Then the Uhlans cantered away. They were four to one, but did not care to fight.
The French followed up resolutely, but the Germans kept their distance. When the dragoons trotted, the Uhlans trotted too. Now the former would gallop across a bit of open country, and the Germans would gallop away just as quickly. Evidently they were making for shelter.
Soon Lieutenant Bruyant saw that they were trying to reach a wood, where they could take cover. No time was to be lost. He knew that if they got there they would escape him. Now was the moment to unchain the ardor of his men. He gave the orders “Draw swords!” “Charge!”
The seven spurred their horses and fell upon the twenty-seven with shouts of defiance. The shock demoralized the Germans, who made no stand at all. One was killed by a lance thrust. The officer in command was drawing his revolver when Lieutenant Bruyant cut him down with his sabre. Six more were wounded and knocked off their horses. The rest fled in disorder.