evident that the Plateau d'Avron must be abandoned, and that night,
in the cold and the darkness, together with the slippery condition
of the ground, which was worst of all, General Trochu superintended
the removal of all the cannon. The Prussian batteries were admirably
placed and admirably served.

But tremendous as the bombardment was (sometimes a shell every two
minutes), it is astonishing how little real damage it did to the
city. The streets were wide, the open spaces numerous, the houses
solidly built, with large courtyards. In the middle of January,
when the extreme cold moderated, hundreds of people would assemble
in the Place de la Concorde, looking skyward. A black object would
appear, with a small bright spot in it, and making a graceful curve
in the air, with a whizzing, humming sound, would drop suddenly,
with a resounding boom, in some distant quarter in the city. Then
the spectators, greatly interested in the sight, waited for another.
The shells, which the Parisians called "obus," were like an
old-fashioned sugar-loaf, and weighed sometimes one hundred and
fifty pounds. But though, by reason of the great distance of the
Prussian batteries, the damage was by no means in proportion to
the number of shells sent into the city, many of them struck public
buildings, hospitals, and orphan asylums, in spite of the Red Cross
flags displayed above them.

By January 19, when the siege had lasted four months, and the
bombardment three weeks, the end seemed to be drawing near. Another
sortie was attempted; but there was a dense fog, the usual accompaniment
of a January thaw, and its only result was the loss of some very
valuable lives.