Were your colleagues all agreed with you as to running the ship ashore?

At what period of the watch had you made up your mind to do it?

Had you frequently boasted that the efforts the ships of the fleet must subsequently make to haul the ship off would strain their tackle and distress their crews, and that public opinion would unquestionably comment severely on their efforts, and almost question their general utility?

With a full knowledge of the current and its strength, did you purposely expose the ship to its influence, and only affect astonishment when you heard whither it was carrying you?

you reverse the engines, and put stern-way on your vessel?

Was the order to this effect partly given from a sudden suspicion that you had acted erroneously, or was it, as has been asserted, to take the ground more firmly and immovably?

Did you really say, in a fit of momentary impatience, that they might put up their sextants, and smash their compasses, for you would have her "hard and fast" in half an hour?

And lastly, in congratulating yourself that the vessel has sustained but slight damage and little injury to her floor-timbers, can you conscientiously assert that this happy result is not wholly to be attributed to the sailors who came to your aid, and whose loyalty to the service overcame all their censure of your seamanship?

If I were on such a court of in

any sea

:

On the morning of the 14th November last, a wild rumour spread through Versailles; the lazy inhabitants of that lazy town grew almost excited, and, probably for the first time in their lives, actually ran to tell each other the great news, "The Prussians are going away.' By twelve o'clock a crowd-at least what is called a crowd in the metropolis of Seine-et-Oise had assembled near the Prefecture, waiting eagerly and patriotically for the announced departure of the hated conqueror. The enthusiasm of its members grew from hour to hour as details of the royal packingup began to circulate the mayor told his private friends that King William's boxes were loaded in the fourgons, spies came breathless from the Ombrages to say that the Crown Prince's baggage was being brought out on to the carriage-drive, while old ladies from the Rue de Provence and the Rue Neuve hurried up with the intelligence that out of their fifthfloor windows they had seen Count Bismark and Generals Moltke and Roon clearing out their papers. And all this was true; headquarters were positively going to a safer place-to Ferrières or Lagny, or perhaps further still. The prudent Germans did not like the look of things out westwards, and, though they told no one the reason why, they had decided to evacuate Versailles. The day wore on, however, and they did not go; the patient mob which had lined the pavement of the Rue des Chantiers, waiting to see the Royal Staff disappear, went home to dine. Night came and the sun rose again, but the black and white flag still waved over the Prefecture. The 15th was another anxious day; the

Prussians themselves did not know what was going to happen, beyond the fact that all the staffs were ordered to be in readiness to leave, and that the baggage was loaded in the vans. No officer could give one word of information: they said gloomily, "There must be something wrong with Von der Tann," and then, like the people in the streets outside, they waited. The 16th brought desolation to the French and joy to Germany; before nine o'clock out came the order to unpack; boxes went up-stairs again, and the wearers of spiked helmets assured their acquaintances that it was all right once more.

Lookers-on at Versailles or elsewhere did not suspect that the issue of the war was virtually decided during these two days, and that what seemed, at the moment, to be only a question of the position of the Prussian King's headquarters, involved in reality the failure or success of the siege of Paris. This fact began to clearly show itself during the three ensuing weeks, but it was then only provable by results; its causes could not be distinctly traced. The coming publication of two French histories of the Loire campaign, the proofs of which have been most obligingly communicated for the purposes of this article, enables us at last to see exactly why King William was so nervous at Versailles on the 14th and 15th of November, and why the fate of Paris may be said to have then been settled. One of these histories is by General Chanzy, who, after commanding the 16th Corps on the Loire, became Commander-in-Chief in succession to General d'Aurelles de Paladines ; the other, by far the most interesting of the two, is by M. de Freycinet,

from the general to the last campfollower, would inevitably have been taken prisoner. Having marched all night to come into action, they had to march all the next night to get away from it; and it was with stupefaction that the exhausted Bavarians discovered on the 10th that General d'Aurelles was not attempting to come after them. And this was not their only surprise. On the 11th the Duke of Mecklenburg met Von der Tann at Toury; and the latter was proposing arrangements to unite their two armies, so as to make a stand against the victorious French and cover Paris, when, to his bewilderment, instructions were telegraphed from Versailles to abandon the direct line of defence, and to immediately march north-west to Dreux (leaving D'Aurelles to do what he liked), in order to stop another French army which was said to be marching straight on Versailles from Argentan and Laigle. Looking back at all this by the light of history, it seems incredible that the clever Prussians should have been so utterly taken in by the fear of an army which did not exist, that they left the road to Paris wide open before D'Aurelles; and more incredible still, that the Tours Government should have failed to profit by the prodigious opportunity which was offered to them by this mistake of General Moltke. As the Prussians keep their own secrets, no one knew at Versailles, and no one knows now, why another imaginary French army was expected to appear at Dreux; but, thanks to General Chanzy and M. de Freycinet, we can see why the Bavarians were not pursued, and why the opportunity of raising the siege of Paris which was offered by their defeat was not utilised. It appears that when the fight began on the morning of the 9th, General Reyau, with

ten regiments of cavalry and some batteries of horse - artillery, was ordered to cover the French left wing and to turn the German right; but that, "instead of doing so, he opened his guns on the German batteries," and reported "at two o'clock that his artillery had lost heavily in men and horses, and had no more ammunition, and that his cavalry had met with serious resistance everywhere. He seemed to expect that the enemy would outflank him, and said he thought he should have to fall back." These are General Chanzy's own words. He goes on to say: "At five o'clock General Reyau again sent word that a column of infantry was appearing before him at Villamblain, and that he considered it indispensable to return to his encampment of the previous night. It was soon discovered that the column in question was composed of our own francstireurs; but, unfortunately, the cavalry had already fallen back, night was coming on, and it was impossible to get the regiments forward again." So that, when the battle was won by the centre and right, no cavalry was up to pursue the victory, or to ascertain the movements of the retreating Germans. The French slept

on the field, but it began to rain and snow: the night was bad, there was no wood for fires, and the supplies of food and ammunition were got to the front with much difficulty. When day broke, Admiral Jauréguiberry sent his own escort, forty-five men, in pursuit of the Bavarians, and they took two guns, 130 prisoners, and quantities of baggage and ammunition. If forty-five hussars could do this, what would General Reyau's ten regiments have effected? General d'Aurelles does not seem, however, to have even thought of following up his victory, though he must have had 90,000 men still in