In Peronne. 355 



came to our assistance. They brought us a^reat quantity of 

 good things, especially potted meat, which was highly welcome 

 and much needed. Poinding in the kitchen of a barrack three 

 large boilers, I had them filled with water, put in the meat and 

 every crust of bread we could find, and with this I made a good 

 soup with whicu Prince Alfred and Miss Runkel fed the poor 

 wounded. Prince Alfred was untiring in his merciful duties as 

 a knigTit of Malta ; he was always on the spot day and night, 

 and doing the most menial services, in nursing, not only the 

 w^ounded, but especially those ill with typhus or small-pox, of 

 whom there were a great number amongst the French. All the 

 patients we found in Peronne were placed in carts and con- 

 veyed to Amier 



People reading at home in the papers of battles and of the 

 number of dead and wounded, cannot easily imagine the sights 

 we saw, the heartrending scenes through which we had to pass, 

 and the immense deal of work we had to do. When evening 

 came we were often utterly exhausted. One night, when Prince 

 Alfred by mere chance passed a yard, he saw in the snow a 

 dark human form, and coming near he found Miss Runkel 

 senseless on the ground. Having worked all day, she was sitting 

 at the bedside of a wounded man, when the smell, added to her 

 exhausted state, became too much for her ; she went out to have 

 some fresh air and fainted. 



Jimmy the dog had a better life than we had. In Amiens 

 he did not hear any firing and was happy ; but I suppose he 

 was ashamed at being so idle, or the war-fever raging around 

 seized him, — he wanted to fight the French on his part also. 

 One day, when coming with me out of the ho~pital, he met a 

 large Fr nch dog, of the Newfoundland breed, carrying a basket 

 in his mouth. Jimmy scarcely saw him bef ^ he charged. 

 The large Frenchman, quietly putting down his basket, caught 

 poor Jimmy by one of his ears, and having t^rn out a piece, he 

 took up his basket again and trotted off, leaving Jimmy pro- 

 fusely bleeding in my arms. Though I sympathized greatly 

 with my favourite's defeat, I could not but admire his big enemy, 

 which was the most dignified Frenchman I ever saw. 



On J nuary 19, 1871, General von Goeben beat the French 

 in the battle of St. Quentin, in the most decided and glorious 

 manner. They were commanded by General Faidherbe, re- 

 placing General Bourbaki, who was left to be beaten somewhere 

 else. 



