The Sun.
London, England, 1870-10-24 00:00:00

lIE MISERIES OF INVASION.

A French paper publishes the following letter from an
inhabitant of a small town• in the department of Seine-et-
Oise :—" I take advantage of an opportunity of inform-
ing you that we ere still alive, but you should see how
fatigued, emaciated, worn out. We do not eat meat
every day. No more butchers here, no more bakers; all
the establishments are occupied by Prussians, whose
prisoners we are. One cannot go into a
neighbouring village without a pass from the
general, which is often refused. No more
cows, consequently no milk or butter ; the
fields are all ravaged. In houses abandoned by their
inhabitants the pillage is complete ; not an article of
furniture is unbroken, the looking-glasses smashed, the'
tables and chairs in pieces. All the best linen taken
away ; the clocks, the mattresses, the most precious
objects. I have about fifty horses at my
house, men in proportion, and this has now
lasted ten days. I have had my two yards separated.
I give the largest, with stables, coach-houses, barns, &c.,
to the enemy. I swagger about like a gendarme to defend
my principal house. On Sunday afternoon, for a begin-
ning, there arrived more than 6,000 men. They invaded
the house and even the room of my poor sick wife. You
will remember that some months ago, finding your braces
too long, you cnt them and amused yourself by fastening
up the ends on each side of the nursery chimney-piece.
Well, you will not find them . there now ; they have dis-
appeared with the rest. They have taken all my boots
and shoes, leaving me only the shoes I had on my feet.
Nothing comes amiss to them ; they have carried off the
jams and preserves, a hundred eggs that had been stored,
the shirts that fitted them ; the sugar, coffee, sugar-plums,
chocolate, varnish, &c. ; a complete devastation. They cut
up the cows into joints, and distributed the wine in my
courtyard. They took all the bread and all the provisions,
established themselves in the kitchen, brought straw into
the dining-room, and at last towards midnight they re-
tired to rest. Then only were we able to eat some
remains of a fricasee of rabbit, without bread, or any-
thing to drink. About two o'clock an alarm was given,
and they left for Paris where the cannon were growling.
They went off so quickly that they did not take time to
put out the candles, which they had cut in pieces and
stuck all over the place. The damage done in our poor
little town is incalculable. Each day we, see
numerous droves of 'cows and sheep pass by, and carts
loaded with forage and sacks of oats. My heart bleeds
when I reflect that all this comes from my poor country
of Beauce held to ransom. Notice has just been given
that any person found in the wood will be shot; the
poachers will get into trouble this time. It is true that the
Prussians take as many as 200 inhabitants at a time
for beaters, and shoot like comfortable townsmen. I
have established an ambulance at my house, which secures
me some degree of quiet ; I also get a little broth for my
poor wife and some allowance of meat. But if this state
of things continues we shall soon have famine among us.
It is hoped that the Prussians will consent to sell us the
bread and meat they have stolen from us. It sounds odd,
but so it will be."