'clock the enemy's
fire had redoubled; some of our Mobiles, in relieving guard, were
killed; and from that hour no one ventured into the streets. 9 P.M. The
moon has risen, and shines brightly--the ground is covered with snow,
and it is almost like daylight. The Prussian positions can distinctly be
seen. The cannon cannot be distinguished, but all along the line between
Villenomble and Gagny tongues of fire appear, followed by long columns
of smoke. The fire on Rosny is increasing in violence; the village of
Noisy is being bombarded."

CHAPTER XVI.

PARIS, _January 1st, 1871._

Our forts still, like breakwaters before a coast, keep back the storm
which the Prussians are directing against us. I went out yesterday by
the Vincennes gate to see how matters were looking. In the Bois de
Vincennes there were troops of every description, and a large number of
guns. The usual scenes of camp life were going on, although, owing to
the cold, everyone seemed gloomy and depressed. I confess that if I were
called upon to camp out in this weather under a _tente d'abri_, and only
given some very smoky green wood to keep me warm, I should not be quite
so valorous as I should wish to be. Passing through the Bois, which is
rapidly becoming a treeless waste, I went forward in the direction of
Fontenay. As the Prussian bombs, however, were falling thickly into the
village, I executed a strategical movement to the left, and fell back by
a cross road into Montreuil. In this village several regiments were
installed. It is just behind Fort Rosny, and on the upper portion,
towards the fort, the Prussian shells fell. It is very singular what
little real danger there is to life and limb from a bombardment. Shells
make a hissing noise as they come through the air. Directly this warning
hiss is heard, down everyone throws himself on the ground. The shell
passes over and falls somewhere near, it sinks about two feet into the
hard ground, and then bursts, throwing up great clouds of earth, like a
small mine. The Prussians are unmasking fresh batteries every day, and
approaching nearer and nearer to the forts. Their fire now extends from
behind Le Bourget to the Marne, and at some points reaches to within a
mile of the ramparts. Bondy is little more than a heap of ruins. As for
the forts, we are told that, with the exception of their barracks having
been made untenable, no harm has been done. Standing behind and looking
at the shells falling