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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11730-0.txt b/11730-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92256bc --- /dev/null +++ b/11730-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4103 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11730 *** + +WITH THE ALLIES + +by + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + + + + + + +Preface + + +I have not seen the letter addressed by President Wilson to the +American people calling upon them to preserve toward this war the +mental attitude of neutrals. But I have seen the war. And I feel sure +had President Wilson seen my war he would not have written his +letter. + +This is not a war against Germans, as we know Germans in America, +where they are among our sanest, most industrious, and most +responsible fellow countrymen. It is a war, as Winston Churchill has +pointed out, against the military aristocracy of Germany, men who are +six hundred years behind the times; who, to preserve their class +against democracy, have perverted to the uses of warfare, to the +destruction of life, every invention of modern times. These men are +military mad. To our ideal of representative government their own +idea is as far opposed as is martial law to the free speech of our town +meetings. + +One returning from the war is astonished to find how little of the true +horror of it crosses the ocean. That this is so is due partly to the strict +censorship that suppresses the details of the war, and partly to the +fact that the mind is not accustomed to consider misery on a scale so +gigantic. The loss of hundreds of thousands of lives, the wrecking of +cities, and the laying waste of half of Europe cannot be brought home +to people who learn of it only through newspapers and moving +pictures and by sticking pins in a map. Were they nearer to it, near +enough to see the women and children fleeing from the shells and to +smell the dead on the battle-fields, there would be no talk of +neutrality. + +Such lack of understanding our remoteness from the actual seat of +war explains. But on the part of many Americans one finds another +attitude of mind which is more difficult to explain. It is the cupidity +that in the misfortunes of others sees only a chance for profit. In +an offer made to its readers a prominent American magazine +best expresses this attitude. It promises prizes for the essays +on "What the war means to me." + +To the American women Miss Ida M. Tar-bell writes: "This is her time +to learn what her own country's industries can do, and to rally with all +her influence to their support, urging them to make the things she +wants, and pledging them her allegiance." + +This appeal is used in a periodical with a circulation of over a million, +as an advertisement for silk hose. I do not agree with Miss Tarbell +that this is the time to rally to the support of home industries. I do not +agree with the advertiser that when in Belgium several million women +and children are homeless, starving, and naked that that is the time +to buy his silk hose. To urge that charity begins at home is to repeat +one of the most selfish axioms ever uttered, and in this war to urge +civilized, thinking people to remain neutral is equally selfish. + +Were the conflict in Europe a fair fight, the duty of every American +would be to keep on the side-lines and preserve an open mind. But it +is not a fair fight. To devastate a country you have sworn to protect, +to drop bombs upon unfortified cities, to lay sunken mines, to levy +blackmail by threatening hostages with death, to destroy cathedrals is +not to fight fair. + +That is the way Germany is fighting. She is defying the rules of war +and the rules of humanity. And if public opinion is to help in +preventing further outrages, and in hastening this unspeakable +conflict to an end, it should be directed against the one who offends. +If we are convinced that one opponent is fighting honestly and that +his adversary is striking below the belt, then for us to maintain a +neutral attitude of mind is unworthy and the attitude of a coward. + +When a mad dog runs amuck in a village it is the duty of every farmer +to get his gun and destroy it, not to lock himself indoors and toward +the dog and the men who face him preserve a neutral mind. + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. +NEW YORK, Dec. 1st, 1914. + + + + + +Contents + + I. The Germans In Brussels + II. "To Be Treated As A Spy" + III. The Burning Of Louvain + IV. Paris In War Time + V. The Battle Of Soissons + VI. The Bombardment Of Rheims + VII. The Spirit Of The English +VIII. Our Diplomats In The War Zone + IX. "Under Fire" + X. The Waste Of War + XI. The War Correspondents + + + + + +Chapter I +The Germans In Brussels + + + +When, on August 4, the Lusitania, with lights doused and air-ports +sealed, slipped out of New York harbor the crime of the century was +only a few days old. And for three days those on board the Lusitania +of the march of the great events were ignorant. Whether or no +between England and Germany the struggle for the supremacy of the +sea had begun we could not learn. + +But when, on the third day, we came on deck the news was written +against the sky. Swinging from the funnels, sailors were painting out +the scarlet-and-black colors of the Cunard line and substituting a +mouse-like gray. Overnight we had passed into the hands of the +admiralty, and the Lusitania had emerged a cruiser. That to possible +German war-ships she might not disclose her position, she sent no +wireless messages. But she could receive them; and at breakfast in +the ship's newspaper appeared those she had overnight snatched +from the air. Among them, without a scare-head, in the most modest +of type, we read: "England and Germany have declared war." Seldom +has news so momentous been conveyed so simply or, by the +Englishmen on board, more calmly accepted. For any exhibition they +gave of excitement or concern, the news the radio brought them +might have been the result of a by-election. + +Later in the morning they gave us another exhibition of that +repression of feeling, of that disdain of hysteria, that is a national +characteristic, and is what Mr. Kipling meant when he wrote: "But oh, +beware my country, when my country grows polite!" + +Word came that in the North Sea the English war-ships had +destroyed the German fleet. To celebrate this battle which, were the +news authentic, would rank with Trafalgar and might mean the end of +the war, one of the ship's officers exploded a detonating bomb. +Nothing else exploded. Whatever feelings of satisfaction our English +cousins experienced they concealed. + +Under like circumstances, on an American ship, we would have tied +down the siren, sung the doxology, and broken everything on the bar. +As it was, the Americans instinctively flocked to the smoking-room +and drank to the British navy. While this ceremony was going +forward, from the promenade-deck we heard tumultuous shouts and +cheers. We believed that, relieved of our presence, our English +friends had given way to rejoicings. But when we went on deck we +found them deeply engaged in cricket. The cheers we had heard +were over the retirement of a batsman who had just been given out, +leg before wicket. + +When we reached London we found no idle boasting, no vainglorious +jingoism. The war that Germany had forced upon them the English +accepted with a grim determination to see it through and, while they +were about it, to make it final. They were going ahead with no false +illusions. Fully did every one appreciate the enormous task, the +personal loss that lay before him. But each, in his or her way, went +into the fight determined to do his duty. There was no dismay, no +hysteria, no "mafficking." + +The secrecy maintained by the press and the people regarding +anything concerning the war, the knowledge of which might +embarrass the War Office, was one of the most admirable and +remarkable conspiracies of silence that modern times have known. +Officers of the same regiment even with each other would not discuss +the orders they had received. In no single newspaper, with no matter +how lurid a past record for sensationalism, was there a line to suggest +that a British army had landed in France and that Great Britain was at +war. Sooner than embarrass those who were conducting the fight, the +individual English man and woman in silence suffered the most cruel +anxiety of mind. Of that, on my return to London from Brussels, I was +given an illustration. I had written to The Daily Chronicle telling where +in Belgium I had seen a wrecked British airship, and beside it the +grave of the aviator. I gave the information in order that the family of +the dead officer might find the grave and bring the body home. The +morning the letter was published an elderly gentleman, a retired +officer of the navy, called at my rooms. His son, he said, was an +aviator, and for a month of him no word had come. His mother was +distressed. Could I describe the air-ship I had seen? + +I was not keen to play the messenger of ill tidings, so I tried to gain +time. + +"What make of aeroplane does your son drive?" I asked. + +As though preparing for a blow, the old gentleman drew himself up, +and looked me steadily in the eyes. + +"A Blériot monoplane," he said. + +I was as relieved as though his boy were one of my own kinsmen. + +"The air-ship I saw," I told him, "was an Avro biplane!" + +Of the two I appeared much the more pleased. + +The retired officer bowed. + +"I thank you," he said. "It will be good news for his mother." + +"But why didn't you go to the War Office?" I asked. + +He reproved me firmly. + +"They have asked us not to question them," he said, "and when they +are working for all I have no right to embarrass them with my personal +trouble." + +As the chance of obtaining credentials with the British army appeared +doubtful, I did not remain in London, but at once crossed to Belgium. + +Before the Germans came, Brussels was an imitation Paris-- +especially along the inner boulevards she was Paris at her best. And +her great parks, her lakes gay with pleasure-boats or choked with lily- +pads, her haunted forests, where your taxicab would startle the wild +deer, are the most beautiful I have ever seen in any city in the world. +As, in the days of the Second Empire, Louis Napoleon bedecked +Paris, so Leopold decorated Brussels. In her honor and to his own +glory he gave her new parks, filled in her moats along her ancient +fortifications, laid out boulevards shaded with trees, erected arches, +monuments, museums. That these jewels he hung upon her neck +were wrung from the slaves of the Congo does not make them the +less beautiful. And before the Germans came the life of the people of +Brussels was in keeping with the elegance, beauty, and joyousness +of their surroundings. + +At the Palace Hotel, which is the clearing-house for the social life of +Brussels, we found everybody taking his ease at a little iron table on +the sidewalk. It was night, but the city was as light as noonday-- +brilliant, elated, full of movement and color. For Liege was still held by +the Belgians, and they believed that all along the line they were +holding back the German army. It was no wonder they were jubilant. +They had a right to be proud. They had been making history. In order +to give them time to mobilize, the Allies had asked them for two days +to delay the German invader. They had held him back for fifteen. As +David went against Goliath, they had repulsed the German. And as +yet there had been no reprisals, no destruction of cities, no murdering +of non-combatants; war still was something glad and glorious. + +The signs of it were the Boy Scouts, everywhere helping every one, +carrying messages, guiding strangers, directing traffic; and Red +Cross nurses and aviators from England, smart Belgian officers +exclaiming bitterly over the delay in sending them forward, and +private automobiles upon the enamelled sides of which the transport +officer with a piece of chalk had scratched, "For His Majesty," and +piled the silk cushions high with ammunition. From table to table +young girls passed jangling tiny tin milk-cans. They were supplicants, +begging money for the wounded. There were so many of them and +so often they made their rounds that, to protect you from themselves, +if you subscribed a lump sum, you were exempt and were given a +badge to prove you were immune. + +Except for these signs of the times you would not have known +Belgium was at war. The spirit of the people was undaunted. Into their +daily lives the conflict had penetrated only like a burst of martial +music. Rather than depressing, it inspired them. Wherever you +ventured, you found them undismayed. And in those weeks during +which events moved so swiftly that now they seem months in the +past, we were as free as in our own "home town" to go where we +chose. + +For the war correspondent those were the happy days! Like every +one else, from the proudest nobleman to the boy in wooden shoes, +we were given a laissez-passer, which gave us permission to go +anywhere; this with a passport was our only credential. Proper +credentials to accompany the army in the field had been formerly +refused me by the war officers of England, France, and Belgium. So +in Brussels each morning I chartered an automobile and without +credentials joined the first army that happened to be passing. +Sometimes you stumbled upon an escarmouche, sometimes you fled +from one, sometimes you drew blank. Over our early coffee we would +study the morning papers and, as in the glad days of racing at home, +from them try to dope out the winners. If we followed La Dernière +Heure we would go to Namur; L'Etoile was strong for Tirlemont. +Would we lose if we plunged on Wavre? Again, the favorite seemed +to be Louvain. On a straight tip from the legation the English +correspondents were going to motor to Diest. From a Belgian officer +we had been given inside information that the fight would be pulled off +at Gembloux. And, unencumbered by even a sandwich, and too wise +to carry a field-glass or a camera, each would depart upon his +separate errand, at night returning to a perfectly served dinner and a +luxurious bed. For the news-gatherers it was a game of chance. The +wisest veterans would cast their nets south and see only harvesters +in the fields, the amateurs would lose their way to the north and find +themselves facing an army corps or running a gauntlet of shell-fire. It +was like throwing a handful of coins on the table hoping that one +might rest upon the winning number. Over the map of Belgium we +threw ourselves. Some days we landed on the right color, on others +we saw no more than we would see at state manoeuvres. Judging by +his questions, the lay brother seems to think that the chief trouble of +the war correspondent is dodging bullets. It is not. It consists in trying +to bribe a station-master to carry you on a troop train, or in finding +forage for your horse. What wars I have seen have taken place in +spots isolated and inaccessible, far from the haunts of men. By day +you followed the fight and tried to find the censor, and at night you sat +on a cracker-box and by the light of a candle struggled to keep awake +and to write deathless prose. In Belgium it was not like that. The +automobile which Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, and +I shared was of surpassing beauty, speed, and comfort. It was as +long as a Plant freight-car and as yellow; and from it flapped in the +breeze more English, Belgian, French, and Russian flags than fly +from the roof of the New York Hippodrome. Whenever we sighted an +army we lashed the flags of its country to our headlights, and at sixty +miles an hour bore down upon it. + +The army always first arrested us, and then, on learning our +nationality, asked if it were true that America had joined the Allies. +After I had punched his ribs a sufficient number of times Morgan +learned to reply without winking that it had. In those days the sun +shone continuously; the roads, except where we ran on the blocks +that made Belgium famous, were perfect; and overhead for miles +noble trees met and embraced. The country was smiling and +beautiful. In the fields the women (for the men were at the front) were +gathering the crops, the stacks of golden grain stretched from village +to village. The houses in these were white-washed and, the better to +advertise chocolates, liqueurs, and automobile tires, were painted a +cobalt blue; their roofs were of red tiles, and they sat in gardens of +purple cabbages or gaudy hollyhocks. In the orchards the pear-trees +were bent with fruit. We never lacked for food; always, when we lost +the trail and "checked," or burst a tire, there was an inn with fruit-trees +trained to lie flat against the wall, or to spread over arbors and +trellises. Beneath these, close by the roadside, we sat and drank red +wine, and devoured omelets and vast slabs of rye bread. At night we +raced back to the city, through twelve miles of parks, to enamelled +bathtubs, shaded electric light, and iced champagne; while before our +table passed all the night life of a great city. And for suffering these +hardships of war our papers paid us large sums. + +On such a night as this, the night of August 18, strange folk in +wooden shoes and carrying bundles, and who looked like emigrants +from Ellis Island, appeared in front of the restaurant. Instantly they +were swallowed up in a crowd and the dinner-parties, napkins in +hand, flocked into the Place Rogier and increased the throng around +them. + +"The Germans!" those in the heart of the crowd called over their +shoulders. "The Germans are at Louvain!" + +That afternoon I had conscientiously cabled my paper that there were +no Germans anywhere near Louvain. I had been west of Louvain, +and the particular column of the French army to which I had attached +myself certainly saw no Germans. + +"They say," whispered those nearest the fugitives, "the German +shells are falling in Louvain. Ten houses are on fire!" Ten houses! +How monstrous it sounded! Ten houses of innocent country folk +destroyed. In those days such a catastrophe was unbelievable. We +smiled knowingly. + +"Refugees always talk like that," we said wisely. "The Germans would +not bombard an unfortified town. And, besides, there are no Germans +south of Liege." + +The morning following in my room I heard from the Place Rogier the +warnings of many motor horns. At great speed innumerable +automobiles were approaching, all coming from the west through the +Boulevard du Regent, and without slackening speed passing +northeast toward Ghent, Bruges, and the coast. The number +increased and the warnings became insistent. At eight o'clock they +had sent out a sharp request for right of way; at nine in number they +had trebled, and the note of the sirens was raucous, harsh, and +peremptory. At ten no longer were there disconnected warnings, but +from the horns and sirens issued one long, continuous scream. It was +like the steady roar of a gale in the rigging, and it spoke in abject +panic. The voices of the cars racing past were like the voices of +human beings driven with fear. From the front of the hotel we +watched them. There were taxicabs, racing cars, limousines. They +were crowded with women and children of the rich, and of the nobility +and gentry from the great châteaux far to the west. Those who +occupied them were white-faced with the dust of the road, with +weariness and fear. In cars magnificently upholstered, padded, and +cushioned were piled trunks, hand-bags, dressing-cases. The women +had dressed at a moment's warning, as though at a cry of fire. Many +had travelled throughout the night, and in their arms the children, +snatched from the pillows, were sleeping. + +But more appealing were the peasants. We walked out along the +inner boulevards to meet them, and found the side streets blocked +with their carts. Into these they had thrown mattresses, or bundles of +grain, and heaped upon them were families of three generations. Old +men in blue smocks, white-haired and bent, old women in caps, the +daughters dressed in their one best frock and hat, and clasping in +their hands all that was left to them, all that they could stuff into a +pillow-case or flour-sack. The tears rolled down their brown, tanned +faces. To the people of Brussels who crowded around them they +spoke in hushed, broken phrases. The terror of what they had +escaped or of what they had seen was upon them. They had +harnessed the plough-horse to the dray or market-wagon and to the +invaders had left everything. What, they asked, would befall the live +stock they had abandoned, the ducks on the pond, the cattle in the +field? Who would feed them and give them water? At the question the +tears would break out afresh. Heart-broken, weary, hungry, they +passed in an unending caravan. With them, all fleeing from the same +foe, all moving in one direction, were family carriages, the servants on +the box in disordered livery, as they had served dinner, or coatless, +but still in the striped waistcoats and silver buttons of grooms or +footmen, and bicyclers with bundles strapped to their shoulders, and +men and women stumbling on foot, carrying their children. Above it all +rose the breathless scream of the racing-cars, as they rocked and +skidded, with brakes grinding and mufflers open; with their own terror +creating and spreading terror. + +Though eager in sympathy, the people of Brussels themselves were +undisturbed. Many still sat at the little iron tables and smiled pityingly +upon the strange figures of the peasants. They had had their trouble +for nothing, they said. It was a false alarm. There were no Germans +nearer than Liege. And, besides, should the Germans come, the civil +guard would meet them. + +But, better informed than they, that morning the American minister, +Brand Whitlock, and the Marquis Villalobar, the Spanish minister, had +called upon the burgomaster and advised him not to defend the city. +As Whitlock pointed out, with the force at his command, which was +the citizen soldiery, he could delay the entrance of the Germans by +only an hour, and in that hour many innocent lives would be wasted +and monuments of great beauty, works of art that belong not alone to +Brussels but to the world, would be destroyed. Burgomaster Max, +who is a splendid and worthy representative of a long line of +burgomasters, placing his hand upon his heart, said: "Honor requires +it." + +To show that in the protection of the Belgian Government he had full +confidence, Mr. Whitlock had not as yet shown his colors. But that +morning when he left the Hôtel de Ville he hung the American flag +over his legation and over that of the British. Those of us who had +elected to remain in Brussels moved our belongings to a hotel across +the street from the legation. Not taking any chances, for my own use I +reserved a green leather sofa in the legation itself. + +Except that the cafés were empty of Belgian officers, and of English +correspondents, whom, had they remained, the Germans would have +arrested, there was not, up to late in the afternoon of the 19th of +August, in the life and conduct of the citizens any perceptible change. +They could not have shown a finer spirit. They did not know the city +would not be defended; and yet with before them on the morrow the +prospect of a battle which Burgomaster Max had announced would +be contested to the very heart of the city, as usual the cafés blazed +like open fire-places and the people sat at the little iron tables. Even +when, like great buzzards, two German aeroplanes sailed slowly +across Brussels, casting shadows of events to come, the people +regarded them only with curiosity. The next morning the shops were +open, the streets were crowded. But overnight the soldier-king had +sent word that Brussels must not oppose the invaders; and at the +gendarmerie the civil guard, reluctantly and protesting, some even in +tears, turned in their rifles and uniforms. + +The change came at ten in the morning. It was as though a wand had +waved and from a fête-day on the Continent we had been wafted to +London on a rainy Sunday. The boulevards fell suddenly empty. +There was not a house that was not closely shuttered. Along the +route by which we now knew the Germans were advancing, it was as +though the plague stalked. That no one should fire from a window, +that to the conquerors no one should offer insult, Burgomaster Max +sent out as special constables men he trusted. Their badge of +authority was a walking-stick and a piece of paper fluttering from a +buttonhole. These, the police, and the servants and caretakers of the +houses that lined the boulevards alone were visible. At eleven +o'clock, unobserved but by this official audience, down the Boulevard +Waterloo came the advance-guard of the German army. It consisted +of three men, a captain and two privates on bicycles. Their rifles were +slung across their shoulders, they rode unwarily, with as little concern +as the members of a touring-club out for a holiday. Behind them, so +close upon each other that to cross from one sidewalk to the other +was not possible, came the Uhlans, infantry, and the guns. For two +hours I watched them, and then, bored with the monotony of it, +returned to the hotel. After an hour, from beneath my window, I still +could hear them; another hour and another went by. They still were +passing. + +Boredom gave way to wonder. The thing fascinated you, against your +will, dragged you back to the sidewalk and held you there open-eyed. +No longer was it regiments of men marching, but something uncanny, +inhuman, a force of nature like a landslide, a tidal wave, or lava +sweeping down a mountain. It was not of this earth, but mysterious, +ghostlike. It carried all the mystery and menace of a fog rolling toward +you across the sea. The uniform aided this impression. In it each man +moved under a cloak of invisibility. Only after the most numerous and +severe tests at all distances, with all materials and combinations of +colors that give forth no color, could this gray have been discovered. +That it was selected to clothe and disguise the German when he +fights is typical of the General Staff, in striving for efficiency, to +leave nothing to chance, to neglect no detail. + +After you have seen this service uniform under conditions entirely +opposite you are convinced that for the German soldier it is one of his +strongest weapons. Even the most expert marksman cannot hit a +target he cannot see. It is not the blue-gray of our Confederates, but +a green-gray. It is the gray of the hour just before daybreak, the gray +of unpolished steel, of mist among green trees. + +I saw it first in the Grand Place in front of the Hôtel de Ville. It was +impossible to tell if in that noble square there was a regiment or a +brigade. You saw only a fog that melted into the stones, blended with +the ancient house fronts, that shifted and drifted, but left you nothing +at which to point. + +Later, as the army passed under the trees of the Botanical Park, it +merged and was lost against the green leaves. It is no exaggeration +to say that at a few hundred yards you can see the horses on which +the Uhlans ride but cannot see the men who ride them. + +If I appear to overemphasize this disguising uniform it is because, of +all the details of the German outfit, it appealed to me as one of the +most remarkable. When I was near Namur with the rear-guard of the +French Dragoons and Cuirassiers, and they threw out pickets, we +could distinguish them against the yellow wheat or green corse at half +a mile, while these men passing in the street, when they have +reached the next crossing, become merged into the gray of the +paving-stones and the earth swallowed them. In comparison the +yellow khaki of our own American army is about as invisible as the +flag of Spain. + +Major-General von Jarotsky, the German military governor of +Brussels, had assured Burgomaster Max that the German army +would not occupy the city but would pass through it. He told the truth. +For three days and three nights it passed. In six campaigns I have +followed other armies, but, excepting not even our own, the +Japanese, or the British, I have not seen one so thoroughly equipped. +I am not speaking of the fighting qualities of any army, only of the +equipment and organization. The German army moved into Brussels +as smoothly and as compactly as an Empire State express. There +were no halts, no open places, no stragglers. For the gray +automobiles and the gray motorcycles bearing messengers one side +of the street always was kept clear; and so compact was the column, +so rigid the vigilance of the file-closers, that at the rate of forty miles +an hour a car could race the length of the column and need not for a +single horse or man once swerve from its course. + +All through the night, like the tumult of a river when it races between +the cliffs of a canyon, in my sleep I could hear the steady roar of the +passing army. And when early in the morning I went to the window +the chain of steel was still unbroken. It was like the torrent that swept +down the Connemaugh Valley and destroyed Johnstown. As a +correspondent I have seen all the great armies and the military +processions at the coronations in Russia, England, and Spain, and +our own inaugural parades down Pennsylvania Avenue, but those +armies and processions were made up of men. This was a machine, +endless, tireless, with the delicate organization of a watch and the +brute power of a steam roller. And for three days and three nights +through Brussels it roared and rumbled, a cataract of molten lead. +The infantry marched singing, with their iron-shod boots beating out +the time. They sang "Fatherland, My Fatherland." Between each line +of song they took three steps. At times two thousand men were +singing together in absolute rhythm and beat. It was like the blows +from giant pile-drivers. When the melody gave way the silence was +broken only by the stamp of iron-shod boots, and then again the song +rose. When the singing ceased the bands played marches. They +were followed by the rumble of the howitzers, the creaking of wheels +and of chains clanking against the cobblestones, and the sharp, bell- +like voices of the bugles. + +More Uhlans followed, the hoofs of their magnificent horses ringing +like thousands of steel hammers breaking stones in a road; and after +them the giant siege-guns rumbling, growling, the mitrailleuse with +drag-chains ringing, the field-pieces with creaking axles, complaining +brakes, the grinding of the steel-rimmed wheels against the stones +echoing and re-echoing from the house front. When at night for an +instant the machine halted, the silence awoke you, as at sea you +wake when the screw stops. + +For three days and three nights the column of gray, with hundreds of +thousands of bayonets and hundreds of thousands of lances, with +gray transport wagons, gray ammunition carts, gray ambulances, +gray cannon, like a river of steel, cut Brussels in two. + +For three weeks the men had been on the march, and there was not +a single straggler, not a strap out of place, not a pennant missing. +Along the route, without for a minute halting the machine, the post- +office carts fell out of the column, and as the men marched mounted +postmen collected post-cards and delivered letters. Also, as they +marched, the cooks prepared soup, coffee, and tea, walking beside +their stoves on wheels, tending the fires, distributing the smoking +food. Seated in the motor-trucks cobblers mended boots and broken +harness; farriers on tiny anvils beat out horseshoes. No officer +followed a wrong turning, no officer asked his way. He followed the +map strapped to his side and on which for his guidance in red ink his +route was marked. At night he read this map by the light of an electric +torch buckled to his chest. + +To perfect this monstrous engine, with its pontoon bridges, its +wireless, its hospitals, its aeroplanes that in rigid alignment sailed +before it, its field telephones that, as it advanced, strung wires over +which for miles the vanguard talked to the rear, all modern inventions +had been prostituted. To feed it millions of men had been called from +homes, offices, and workshops; to guide it, for years the minds of the +high-born, with whom it is a religion and a disease, had been solely +concerned. + +It is, perhaps, the most efficient organization of modern times; and its +purpose only is death. Those who cast it loose upon Europe are +military-mad. And they are only a very small part of the German +people. But to preserve their class they have in their own image +created this terrible engine of destruction. For the present it is their +servant. But, "though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind +exceeding small." And, like Frankenstein's monster, this monster, to +which they gave life, may turn and rend them. + + + + +Chapter II +"To Be Treated As A Spy" + + + +This story is a personal experience, but is told in spite of that fact and +because it illustrates a side of war that is unfamiliar. It is unfamiliar +for the reason that it is seamy and uninviting. With bayonet charges, +bugle-calls, and aviators it has nothing in common. + +Espionage is that kind of warfare of which, even when it succeeds, no +country boasts. It is military service an officer may not refuse, but +which few seek. Its reward is prompt promotion, and its punishment, +in war time, is swift and without honor. This story is intended to show +how an army in the field must be on its guard against even a +supposed spy and how it treats him. + +The war offices of France and Russia would not permit an American +correspondent to accompany their armies; the English granted that +privilege to but one correspondent, and that gentleman already had +been chosen. So I was without credentials. To oblige Mr. Brand +Whitlock, our minister to Belgium, the government there was willing to +give me credentials, but on the day I was to receive them the +government moved to Antwerp. Then the Germans entered Brussels, +and, as no one could foresee that Belgium would heroically continue +fighting, on the chance the Germans would besiege Paris, I planned +to go to that city. To be bombarded you do not need credentials. + +For three days a steel-gray column of Germans had been sweeping +through Brussels, and to meet them, from the direction of Vincennes +and Lille, the English and French had crossed the border. It was +falsely reported that already the English had reached Hal, a town only +eleven miles from Brussels, that the night before there had been a +fight at Hal, and that close behind the English were the French. + +With Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, with whom I had +been in other wars, I planned to drive to Hal and from there on foot +continue, if possible, into the arms of the French or English. We both +were without credentials, but, once with the Allies, we believed we +would not need them. It was the Germans we doubted. To satisfy +them we had only a passport and a laissez-passer issued by General +von Jarotsky, the new German military governor of Brussels, and his +chief of staff, Lieutenant Geyer. Mine stated that I represented the +Wheeler Syndicate of American newspapers, the London Daily +Chronicle, and Scribner's Magazine, and that I could pass German +military lines in Brussels and her environs. Morgan had a pass of the +same sort. The question to be determined was: What were "environs" +and how far do they extend? How far in safety would the word carry +us forward? + +On August 23 we set forth from Brussels in a taxicab to find out. At +Hal, where we intended to abandon the cab and continue on foot, we +found out. We were arrested by a smart and most intelligent-looking +officer, who rode up to the side of the taxi and pointed an automatic at +us. We were innocently seated in a public cab, in a street crowded +with civilians and the passing column of soldiers, and why any one +should think he needed a gun only the German mind can explain. +Later, I found that all German officers introduced themselves and +made requests gun in hand. Whether it was because from every one +they believed themselves in danger or because they simply did not +know any better, I still am unable to decide. With no other army have +I seen an officer threaten with a pistol an unarmed civilian. Were an +American or English officer to act in such a fashion he might escape +looking like a fool, he certainly would feel like one. The four soldiers +the officer told off to guard us climbed with alacrity into our cab and +drove with us until the street grew too narrow both for their regiment +and our taxi, when they chose the regiment and disappeared. We +paid off the cabman and followed them. To reach the front there was +no other way, and the very openness with which we trailed along +beside their army, very much like small boys following a circus +procession, seemed to us to show how innocent was our intent. The +column stretched for fifty miles. Where it was going we did not know, +but, we argued, if it kept on going and we kept on with it, eventually +we must stumble upon a battle. The story that at Hal there had been +a fight was evidently untrue; and the manner in which the column was +advancing showed it was not expecting one. At noon it halted at +Brierges, and Morgan decided Brierges was out of bounds and that +the limits of our "environs" had been reached. + +"If we go any farther," he argued, "the next officer who reads our +papers will order us back to Brussels under arrest, and we will lose +our laissez-passer. Along this road there is no chance of seeing +anything. I prefer to keep my pass and use it in 'environs' where there +is fighting." So he returned to Brussels. I thought he was most wise, +and I wanted to return with him. But I did not want to go back only +because I knew it was the right thing to do, but to be ordered back so +that I could explain to my newspapers that I returned because +Colonel This or General That sent me back. It was a form of vanity for +which I was properly punished. That Morgan was right was +demonstrated as soon as he left me. I was seated against a tree by +the side of the road eating a sandwich, an occupation which seems +almost idyllic in its innocence but which could not deceive the +Germans. In me they saw the hated Spion, and from behind me, +across a ploughed field, four of them, each with an automatic, made +me prisoner. One of them, who was an enthusiast, pushed his gun +deep into my stomach. With the sandwich still in my hand, I held up +my arms high and asked who spoke English. It turned out that the +enthusiast spoke that language, and I suggested he did not need so +many guns and that he could find my papers in my inside pocket. +With four automatics rubbing against my ribs, I would not have +lowered my arms for all the papers in the Bank of England. They took +me to a café, where their colonel had just finished lunch and was in a +most genial humor. First he gave the enthusiast a drink as a reward +for arresting me, and then, impartially, gave me one for being +arrested. He wrote on my passport that I could go to Enghien, which +was two miles distant. That pass enabled me to proceed unmolested +for nearly two hundred yards. I was then again arrested and taken +before another group of officers. This time they searched my +knapsack and wanted to requisition my maps, but one of them +pointed out they were only automobile maps and, as compared to +their own, of no value. They permitted me to proceed to Enghien. I +went to Enghien, intending to spend the night and on the morning +continue. I could not see why I might not be able to go on indefinitely. + +As yet no one who had held me up had suggested I should turn back, +and as long as I was willing to be arrested it seemed as though I +might accompany the German army even to the gates of Paris. But +my reception in Enghien should have warned me to get back to +Brussels. The Germans, thinking I was an English spy, scowled at +me; and the Belgians, thinking the same thing, winked at me; and the +landlord of the only hotel said I was "suspect" and would not give me +a bed. But I sought out the burgomaster, a most charming man +named Delano, and he wrote out a pass permitting me to sleep one +night in Enghien. + +"You really do not need this," he said; "as an American you are free +to stay here as long as you wish." Then he, too, winked. + +"But I am an American," I protested. + +"But certainly," he said gravely, and again he winked. It was then I +should have started back to Brussels. Instead, I sat on a moss- +covered, arched stone bridge that binds the town together, and until +night fell watched the gray tidal waves rush up and across it, +stamping, tripping, stumbling, beating the broad, clean stones with +thousands of iron heels, steel hoofs, steel chains, and steel-rimmed +wheels. You hated it, and yet could not keep away. The Belgians of +Enghien hated it, and they could not keep away. Like a great river in +flood, bearing with it destruction and death, you feared and loathed it, +and yet it fascinated you and pulled you to the brink. All through the +night, as already for three nights and three days at Brussels, I had +heard it; it rumbled and growled, rushing forward without pause or +breath, with inhuman, pitiless persistence. At daybreak I sat on the +edge of the bed and wondered whether to go on or turn back. I still +wanted some one in authority, higher than myself, to order me back. +So, at six, riding for a fall, to find that one, I went, as I thought, +along the road to Soignes. The gray tidal wave was still roaring past. +It was pressing forward with greater speed, but in nothing else did +it differ from the tidal wave that had swept through Brussels. + +There was a group of officers seated by the road, and as I passed I +wished them good morning and they said good morning in return. I +had gone a hundred feet when one of them galloped after me and +asked to look at my papers. With relief I gave them to him. I was sure +now I would be told to return to Brussels. I calculated if at Hal I had +luck in finding a taxicab, by lunch time I should be in the Palace Hotel. + +"I think," said the officer, "you had better see our general. He is ahead +of us." + +I thought he meant a few hundred yards ahead, and to be ordered +back by a general seemed more convincing than to be returned by a +mere captain. So I started to walk on beside the mounted officers. +This, as it seemed to presume equality with them, scandalized them +greatly, and I was ordered into the ranks. But the one who had +arrested me thought I was entitled to a higher rating and placed me +with the color-guard, who objected to my presence so violently that a +long discussion followed, which ended with my being ranked below a +second lieutenant and above a sergeant. Between one of each of +these I was definitely placed, and for five hours I remained definitely +placed. We advanced with a rush that showed me I had surprised a +surprise movement. The fact was of interest not because I had +discovered one of their secrets, but because to keep up with the +column I was forced for five hours to move at what was a steady trot. +It was not so fast as the running step of the Italian bersagliere, but as +fast as our "double-quick." The men did not bend the knees, but, +keeping the legs straight, shot them forward with a quick, sliding +movement, like men skating or skiing. The toe of one boot seemed +always tripping on the heel of the other. As the road was paved with +roughly hewn blocks of Belgian granite this kind of going was very +strenuous, and had I not been in good shape I could not have kept +up. As it was, at the end of the five hours I had lost fifteen pounds, +which did not help me, as during the same time the knapsack had +taken on a hundred. For two days the men in the ranks had been +rushed forward at this unnatural gait and were moving like +automatons. Many of them fell by the wayside, but they were not +permitted to lie there. Instead of summoning the ambulance, they +were lifted to their feet and flung back into the ranks. Many of them +were moving in their sleep, in that partly comatose state in which you +have seen men during the last hours of a six days' walking match. +Their rules, so the sergeant said, were to halt every hour and then for +ten minutes rest. But that rule is probably only for route marching. + +On account of the speed with which the surprise movement was +made our halts were more frequent, and so exhausted were the men +that when these "thank you, ma'ams" arrived, instead of standing at +ease and adjusting their accoutrements, as though they had been +struck with a club they dropped to the stones. Some in an instant +were asleep. I do not mean that some sat down; I mean that the +whole column lay flat in the road. The officers also, those that were +not mounted, would tumble on the grass or into the wheat-field and lie +on their backs, their arms flung out like dead men. To the fact that +they were lying on their field-glasses, holsters, swords, and water- +bottles they appeared indifferent. At the rate the column moved it +would have covered thirty miles each day. It was these forced +marches that later brought Von Kluck's army to the right wing of the +Allies before the army of the crown prince was prepared to attack, +and which at Sezanne led to his repulse and to the failure of his +advance upon Paris. + +While we were pushing forward we passed a wrecked British air-ship, +around which were gathered a group of staff-officers. My papers were +given to one of them, but our column did not halt and I was not +allowed to speak. A few minutes later they passed in their +automobiles on their way to the front; and my papers went with them. +Already I was miles beyond the environs, and with each step away +from Brussels my pass was becoming less of a safeguard than a +menace. For it showed what restrictions General Jarotsky had placed +on my movements, and my presence so far out of bounds proved I +had disregarded them. But still I did not suppose that in returning to +Brussels there would be any difficulty. I was chiefly concerned with +the thought that the length of the return march was rapidly increasing +and with the fact that one of my shoes, a faithful friend in other +campaigns, had turned traitor and was cutting my foot in half. I had +started with the column at seven o'clock, and at noon an automobile, +with flags flying and the black eagle of the staff enamelled on the +door, came speeding back from the front. In it was a very blond and +distinguished-looking officer of high rank and many decorations. He +used a single eye-glass, and his politeness and his English were +faultless. He invited me to accompany him to the general staff. + +That was the first intimation I had that I was in danger. I saw they +were giving me far too much attention. I began instantly to work to set +myself free, and there was not a minute for the next twenty-four hours +that I was not working. Before I stepped into the car I had decided +upon my line of defence. I would pretend to be entirely unconscious +that I had in any way laid myself open to suspicion; that I had erred +through pure stupidity and that I was where I was solely because I +was a damn fool. I began to act like a damn fool. Effusively I +expressed my regret at putting the General Staff to inconvenience. + +"It was really too stupid of me," I said. "I cannot forgive myself. I +should not have come so far without asking Jarotsky for proper +papers. I am extremely sorry I have given you this trouble. I would like +to see the general and assure him I will return at once to Brussels." I +ignored the fact that I was being taken to the general at the rate of +sixty miles an hour. The blond officer smiled uneasily and with his +single glass studied the sky. When we reached the staff he escaped +from me with the alacrity of one released from a disagreeable and +humiliating duty. The staff were at luncheon, seated in their luxurious +motor-cars or on the grass by the side of the road. On the other side +of the road the column of dust-covered gray ghosts were being +rushed past us. The staff, in dress uniforms, flowing cloaks, and +gloves, belonged to a different race. They knew that. Among +themselves they were like priests breathing incense. Whenever one +of them spoke to another they saluted, their heels clicked, their +bodies bent at the belt line. + +One of them came to where, in the middle of the road, I was stranded +and trying not to feel as lonely as I looked. He was much younger +than myself and dark and handsome. His face was smooth-shaven, +his figure tall, lithe, and alert. He wore a uniform of light blue and +silver that clung to him and high boots of patent leather. His waist was +like a girl's, and, as though to show how supple he was, he kept +continually bowing and shrugging his shoulders and in elegant protest +gesticulating with his gloved hands. He should have been a moving- +picture actor. He reminded me of Anthony Hope's fascinating but +wicked Rupert of Hentzau. He certainly was wicked, and I got to hate +him as I never imagined it possible to hate anybody. He had been +told off to dispose of my case, and he delighted in it. He enjoyed it as +a cat enjoys playing with a mouse. As actors say, he saw himself in +the part. He "ate" it. + +"You are an English officer out of uniform," he began. "You have +been taken inside our lines." He pointed his forefinger at my stomach +and wiggled his thumb. "And you know what that means!" + +I saw playing the damn fool with him would be waste of time. + +"I followed your army," I told him, "because it's my business to follow +armies and because yours is the best-looking army I ever saw." He +made me one of his mocking bows. + +"We thank you," he said, grinning. "But you have seen too much." + +"I haven't seen anything," I said, "that everybody in Brussels hasn't +seen for three days." + +He shook his head reproachfully and with a gesture signified the +group of officers. + +"You have seen enough in this road," he said, "to justify us in +shooting you now." + +The sense of drama told him it was a good exit line, and he returned +to the group of officers. I now saw what had happened. At Enghien I +had taken the wrong road. I remembered that, to confuse the +Germans, the names on the sign-post at the edge of the town had +been painted out, and that instead of taking the road to Soignes I was +on the road to Ath. What I had seen, therefore, was an army corps +making a turning movement intended to catch the English on their +right and double them up upon their centre. The success of this +manÅ“uvre depended upon the speed with which it was executed and +upon its being a complete surprise. As later in the day I learned, the +Germans thought I was an English officer who had followed them +from Brussels and who was trying to slip past them and warn his +countrymen. What Rupert of Hentzau meant by what I had seen on +the road was that, having seen the Count de Schwerin, who +commanded the Seventh Division, on the road to Ath, I must +necessarily know that the army corps to which he was attached had +separated from the main army of Von Kluck, and that, in going so far +south at such speed, it was bent upon an attack on the English flank. +All of which at the time I did not know and did not want to know. All I +wanted was to prove I was not an English officer, but an American +correspondent who by accident had stumbled upon their secret. To +convince them of that, strangely enough, was difficult. + +When Rupert of Hentzau returned the other officers were with him, +and, fortunately for me, they spoke or understood English. For the +rest of the day what followed was like a legal argument. It was as +cold-blooded as a game of bridge. Rupert of Hentzau wanted an +English spy shot for his supper; just as he might have desired a +grilled bone. He showed no personal animus, and, I must say for him, +that he conducted the case for the prosecution without heat or anger. +He mocked me, grilled and taunted me, but he was always +charmingly polite. + +As Whitman said, "I want Becker," so Rupert said, "Fe, fo, fi, fum, I +want the blood of an Englishman." He was determined to get it. I was +even more interested that he should not. The points he made against +me were that my German pass was signed neither by General +Jarotsky nor by Lieutenant Geyer, but only stamped, and that any +rubber stamp could be forged; that my American passport had not +been issued at Washington, but in London, where an Englishman +might have imposed upon our embassy; and that in the photograph +pasted on the passport I was wearing the uniform of a British officer. I +explained that the photograph was taken eight years ago, and that +the uniform was one I had seen on the west coast of Africa, worn by +the West African Field Force. Because it was unlike any known +military uniform, and as cool and comfortable as a golf jacket, I had +had it copied. But since that time it had been adopted by the English +Brigade of Guards and the Territorials. I knew it sounded like fiction; +but it was quite true. + +Rupert of Hentzau smiled delightedly. + +"Do you expect us to believe that?" he protested. + +"Listen," I said. "If you could invent an explanation for that uniform as +quickly as I told you that one, standing in a road with eight officers +trying to shoot you, you would be the greatest general in Germany." + +That made the others laugh; and Rupert retorted: "Very well, then, we +will concede that the entire British army has changed its uniform to +suit your photograph. But if you are not an officer, why, in the +photograph, are you wearing war ribbons?" + +I said the war ribbons were in my favor, and I pointed out that no +officer of any one country could have been in the different campaigns +for which the ribbons were issued. + +"They prove," I argued, "that I am a correspondent, for only a +correspondent could have been in wars in which his own country was +not engaged." + +I thought I had scored; but Rupert instantly turned my own witness +against me. + +"Or a military attaché," he said. At that they all smiled and nodded +knowingly. + +He followed this up by saying, accusingly, that the hat and clothes I +was then wearing were English. The clothes were English, but I knew +he did not know that, and was only guessing; and there were no +marks on them. About my hat I was not certain. It was a felt Alpine +hat, and whether I had bought it in London or New York I could not +remember. Whether it was evidence for or against I could not be +sure. So I took it off and began to fan myself with it, hoping to get a +look at the name of the maker. But with the eyes of the young +prosecuting attorney fixed upon me, I did not dare take a chance. +Then, to aid me, a German aeroplane passed overhead, and +those who were giving me the third degree looked up. I stopped +fanning myself and cast a swift glance inside the hat. To my intense +satisfaction I read, stamped on the leather lining: "Knox, New York." + +I put the hat back on my head and a few minutes later pulled it off and +said: "Now, for instance, my hat. If I were an Englishman would I +cross the ocean to New York to buy a hat?" + +It was all like that. They would move away and whisper together, and +I would try to guess what questions they were preparing. I had to +arrange my defence without knowing in what way they would try to trip +me, and I had to think faster than I ever have thought before. I had no +more time to be scared, or to regret my past sins, than has a man in +a quicksand. So far as I could make out, they were divided in opinion +concerning me. Rupert of Hentzau, who was the adjutant or the chief +of staff, had only one simple thought, which was to shoot me. Others +considered me a damn fool; I could hear them laughing and saying: +"Er ist ein dummer Mensch." And others thought that whether I was a +fool or not, or an American or an Englishman, was not the question; I +had seen too much and should be put away. I felt if, instead of having +Rupert act as my interpreter, I could personally speak to the general I +might talk my way out of it, but Rupert assured me that to set me free +the Count de Schwerin lacked authority, and that my papers, which +were all against me, must be submitted to the general of the army +corps, and we would not reach him until midnight. + +"And then!--" he would exclaim, and he would repeat his pantomime +of pointing his forefinger at my stomach and wiggling his thumb. He +was very popular with me. + +Meanwhile they were taking me farther away from Brussels and the +"environs." + +"When you picked me up," I said, "I was inside the environs, but by +the time I reach 'the' general he will see only that I am fifty miles +beyond where I am permitted to be. And who is going to tell him it +was you brought me there? You won't!" + +Rupert of Hentzau only smiled like the cat that has just swallowed the +canary. + +He put me in another automobile and they whisked me off, always +going farther from Brussels, to Ath and then to Ligne, a little town five +miles south. Here they stopped at a house the staff occupied, and, +leading me to the second floor, put me in an empty room that +seemed built for their purpose. It had a stone floor and whitewashed +walls and a window so high that even when standing you could see +only the roof of another house and a weather-vane. They threw two +bundles of wheat on the floor and put a sentry at the door with orders +to keep it open. He was a wild man, and thought I was, and every +time I moved his automatic moved with me. It was as though he were +following me with a spotlight. My foot was badly cut across the instep +and I was altogether forlorn and disreputable. So, in order to look less +like a tramp when I met the general, I bound up the foot, and, always +with one eye on the sentry, and moving very slowly, shaved and put +on dry things. From the interest the sentry showed it seemed evident +he never had taken a bath himself, nor had seen any one else take +one, and he was not quite easy in his mind that he ought to allow it. +He seemed to consider it a kind of suicide. I kept on thinking out +plans, and when an officer appeared I had one to submit. I offered to +give the money I had with me to any one who would motor back to +Brussels and take a note to the American minister, Brand Whitlock. +My proposition was that if in five hours, or by seven o'clock, he did not +arrive in his automobile and assure them that what I said about +myself was true, they need not wait until midnight, but could shoot me +then. + +"If I am willing to take such a chance," I pointed out, "I must be a +friend of Mr. Whitlock. If he repudiates me, it will be evident I have +deceived you, and you will be perfectly justified in carrying out your +plan." I had a note to Whitlock already written. It was composed +entirely with the idea that they would read it, and it was much more +intimate than my very brief acquaintance with that gentleman justified. +But from what I have seen and heard of the ex-mayor of Toledo I felt +he would stand for it. + +The note read: + + +"Dear Brand: + +"I am detained in a house with a garden where the railroad passes +through the village of Ligne. Please come quick, or send some one in +the legation automobile. + +"Richard." + + +The officer to whom I gave this was Major Alfred Wurth, a reservist +from Bernburg, on the Saale River. I liked him from the first because +after we had exchanged a few words he exclaimed incredulously: +"What nonsense! Any one could tell by your accent that you are an +American." He explained that, when at the university, in the same +pension with him were three Americans. + +"The staff are making a mistake," he said earnestly. "They will regret +it." + +I told him that I not only did not want them to regret it, but I did not +want them to make it, and I begged him to assure the staff that I was +an American. I suggested also that he tell them, if anything happened +to me there were other Americans who would at once declare war on +Germany. The number of these other Americans I overestimated by +about ninety millions, but it was no time to consider details. + +He asked if the staff might read the letter to the American minister, +and, though I hated to deceive him, I pretended to consider this. + +"I don't remember just what I wrote," I said, and, to make sure they +would read it, I tore open the envelope and pretended to reread the +letter. + +"I will see what I can do," said Major Wurth; "meanwhile, do not be +discouraged. Maybe it will come out all right for you." + +After he left me the Belgian gentleman who owned the house and his +cook brought me some food. She was the only member of his +household who had not deserted him, and together they were serving +the staff-officers, he acting as butler, waiter, and valet. The cock was +an old peasant woman with a ruffled white cap, and when she left, in +spite of the sentry, she patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. The +owner of the house was more discreet, and contented himself with +winking at me and whispering: "Ça va mal pour vous en bas!" As they +both knew what was being said of me downstairs, their visit did not +especially enliven me. Major Wurth returned and said the staff could +not spare any one to go to Brussels, but that my note had been +forwarded to "the" general. That was as much as I had hoped for. It +was intended only as a "stay of proceedings." But the manner of the +major was not reassuring. He kept telling me that he thought they +would set me free, but even as he spoke tears would come to his +eyes and roll slowly down his cheeks. It was most disconcerting. After +a while it grew dark and he brought me a candle and left me, taking +with him, much to my relief, the sentry and his automatic. This gave +me since my arrest my first moment alone, and, to find anything that +might further incriminate or help me, I used it in going rapidly through +my knapsack and pockets. My note-book was entirely favorable. In it +there was no word that any German could censor. My only other +paper was a letter, of which all day I had been conscious. It was one +of introduction from Colonel Theodore Roosevelt to President +Poincaré, and whether the Germans would consider it a clean bill of +health or a death-warrant I could not make up my mind. Half a dozen +times I had been on the point of saying: "Here is a letter from the man +your Kaiser delighted to honor, the only civilian who ever reviewed +the German army, a former President of the United States." + +But I could hear Rupert of Hentzau replying: "Yes, and it is +recommending you to our enemy, the President of France!" + +I knew that Colonel Roosevelt would have written a letter to the +German Emperor as impartially as to M. Poincaré, but I knew also +that Rupert of Hentzau would not believe that. So I decided to keep +the letter back until the last moment. If it was going to help me, it still +would be effective; if it went against me, I would be just as dead. I +began to think out other plans. Plans of escape were foolish. I could +have crawled out of the window to the rain gutter, but before I had +reached the rooftree I would have been shot. And bribing the sentry, +even were he willing to be insulted, would not have taken me farther +than the stairs, where there were other sentries. I was more safe +inside the house than out. They still had my passport and laissez- +passer, and without a pass one could not walk a hundred yards. As +the staff had but one plan, and no time in which to think of a better +one, the obligation to invent a substitute plan lay upon me. The plan I +thought out and which later I outlined to Major Wurth was this: Instead +of putting me away at midnight, they would give me a pass back to +Brussels. The pass would state that I was a suspected spy and that if +before midnight of the 26th of August I were found off the direct road +to Brussels, or if by that hour I had not reported to the military +governor of Brussels, any one could shoot me on sight. As I have +stated, without showing a pass no one could move a hundred yards, +and every time I showed my pass to a German it would tell him I was +a suspected spy, and if I were not making my way in the right +direction he had his orders. With such a pass I was as much a +prisoner as in the room at Ligne, and if I tried to evade its conditions I +was as good as dead. The advantages of my plan, as I urged them +upon Major Wurth, were that it prevented the General Staff from +shooting an innocent man, which would have greatly distressed them, +and were he not innocent would still enable them, after a reprieve of +two days, to shoot him. The distance to Brussels was about fifty +miles, which, as it was impossible for a civilian to hire a bicycle, +motor-car, or cart, I must cover on foot, making twenty-five miles a +day. Major Wurth heartily approved of my substitute plan, and added +that he thought if any motor-trucks or ambulances were returning +empty to Brussels, I should be permitted to ride in one of them. He +left me, and I never saw him again. It was then about eight o'clock, +and as the time passed and he did not return and midnight grew +nearer, I began to feel very lonely. Except for the Roosevelt letter, I +had played my last card. + +As it grew later I persuaded myself they did not mean to act until +morning, and I stretched out on the straw and tried to sleep. At +midnight I was startled by the light of an electric torch. It was strapped +to the chest of an officer, who ordered me to get up and come with +him. He spoke only German, and he seemed very angry. The owner +of the house and the old cook had shown him to my room, but they +stood in the shadow without speaking. Nor, fearing I might +compromise them--for I could not see why, except for one purpose, +they were taking me out into the night--did I speak to them. We got +into another motor-car and in silence drove north from Ligne down a +country road to a great château that stood in a magnificent park. +Something had gone wrong with the lights of the château, and its hall +was lit only by candles that showed soldiers sleeping like dead men +on bundles of wheat and others leaping up and down the marble +stairs. They put me in a huge armchair of silk and gilt, with two of the +gray ghosts to guard me, and from the hall, when the doors of the +drawing-room opened, I could see a long table on which were +candles in silver candlesticks or set on plates, and many maps and +half-empty bottles of champagne. Around the table, standing or +seated, and leaning across the maps, were staff-officers in brilliant +uniforms. They were much older men and of higher rank than any I +had yet seen. They were eating, drinking, gesticulating. In spite of the +tumult, some, in utter weariness, were asleep. It was like a picture of +1870 by Détaille or De Neuville. Apparently, at last I had reached the +headquarters of the mysterious general. I had arrived at what, for a +suspected spy, was an inopportune moment. The Germans themselves +had been surprised, or somewhere south of us had met with a +reverse, and the air was vibrating with excitement and something +very like panic. Outside, at great speed and with sirens shrieking, +automobiles were arriving, and I could hear the officers shouting: +"Die Englischen kommen!" + +To make their reports they flung themselves up the steps, the electric +torches, like bull's-eye lanterns, burning holes in the night. Seeing a +civilian under guard, they would stare and ask questions. Even when +they came close, owing to the light in my eyes, I could not see them. +Sometimes, in a half circle, there would be six or eight of the electric +torches blinding me, and from behind them voices barking at me with +strange, guttural noises. Much they said I could not understand, +much I did not want to understand, but they made it quite clear it was +no fit place for an Englishman. + +When the door from the drawing-room opened and Rupert of +Hentzau appeared, I was almost glad to see him. + +Whenever he spoke to me he always began or ended his sentence +with "Mr. Davis." He gave it an emphasis and meaning which was +intended to show that he knew it was not my name. I would not have +thought it possible to put so much insolence into two innocent words. +It was as though he said: "Mr. Davis, alias Jimmy Valentine." He +certainly would have made a great actor. + +"Mr. Davis," he said, "you are free." + +He did not look as disappointed as I knew he would feel if I were free, +so I waited for what was to follow. + +"You are free," he said, "under certain conditions." The conditions +seemed to cheer him. He recited the conditions. They were those I +had outlined to Major Wurth. But I am sure Rupert of Hentzau did not +guess that. Apparently, he believed Major Wurth had thought of +them, and I did not undeceive him. For the substitute plan I was not +inclined to rob that officer of any credit. I felt then, and I feel now, +that but for him and his interceding for me I would have been left +in the road. Rupert of Hentzau gave me the pass. It said I must +return to Brussels by way of Ath, Enghien, Hal, and that I must report +to the military governor on the 26th or "be treated as a spy"--"so wird +er als Spion behandelt." The pass, literally translated, reads: + +"The American reporter Davis must at once return to Brussels via +Ath, Enghien, Hal, and report to the government at the latest on +August 26th. If he is met on any other road, or after the 26th of +August, he will be handled as a spy. Automobiles returning to +Brussels, if they can unite it with their duty, can carry him." + +"CHIEF OF GENERAL STAFF." +"VON GREGOR, Lieutenant-Colonel." + +Fearing my military education was not sufficient to enable me to +appreciate this, for the last time Rupert stuck his forefinger in my +stomach and repeated cheerfully: "And you know what that means. +And you will start," he added, with a most charming smile, "in three +hours." + +He was determined to have his grilled bone. + +"At three in the morning!" I cried. "You might as well take me out and +shoot me now!" + +"You will start in three hours," he repeated. + +"A man wandering around at that hour," I protested, "wouldn't live five +minutes. It can't be done. You couldn't do it." He continued to grin. I +knew perfectly well the general had given no such order, and that it +was a cat-and-mouse act of Rupert's own invention, and he knew I +knew it. But he repeated: "You will start in three hours, Mr. Davis." + +I said: "I am going to write about this, and I would like you to read +what I write. What is your name?" + +He said: "I am the Baron von"--it sounded like "Hossfer"--and, in any +case, to that name, care of General de Schwerin of the Seventh +Division, I shall mail this book. I hope the Allies do not kill Rupert of +Hentzau before he reads it! After that! He would have made a great +actor. + +They put me in the automobile and drove me back to Ligne and the +impromptu cell. But now it did not seem like a cell. Since I had last +occupied it my chances had so improved that returning to the candle +on the floor and the bundles of wheat was like coming home. Though +I did not believe Rupert had any authority to order me into the night at +the darkest hour of the twenty-four, I was taking no chances. My +nerve was not in a sufficiently robust state for me to disobey any +German. So, lest I should oversleep, until three o'clock I paced the +cell, and then, with all the terrors of a burglar, tiptoed down the stairs. +There was no light, and the house was wrapped in silence. + +Earlier there had been everywhere sentries, and, not daring to +breathe, I waited for one of them to challenge, but, except for the +creaking of the stairs and of my ankle-bones, which seemed to +explode like firecrackers, there was not a sound. I was afraid, and +wished myself safely back in my cell, but I was more afraid of Rupert, +and I kept on feeling my way until I had reached the garden. There +some one spoke to me in French, and I found my host. + +"The animals have gone," he said; "all of them. I will give you a bed +now, and when it is light you shall have breakfast." I told him my +orders were to leave his house at three. + +"But it is murder!" he said. With these cheering words in my ears, I +thanked him, and he bid me bonne chance. + +In my left hand I placed the pass, folded so that the red seal of the +General Staff would show, and a match-box. In the other hand I held +ready a couple of matches. Each time a sentry challenged I struck +the matches on the box and held them in front of the red seal. The +instant the matches flashed it was a hundred to one that the man +would shoot, but I could not speak German, and there was no other +way to make him understand. They were either too surprised or too +sleepy to fire, for each of them let me pass. But after I had made a +mark of myself three times I lost my nerve and sought cover behind a +haystack. I lay there until there was light enough to distinguish trees +and telegraph-poles, and then walked on to Ath. After that, when they +stopped me, if they could not read, the red seal satisfied them; if they +were officers and could read, they cursed me with strange, unclean +oaths, and ordered me, in the German equivalent, to beat it. It was a +delightful walk. I had had no sleep the night before and had eaten +nothing, and, though I had cut away most of my shoe, I could hardly +touch my foot to the road. Whenever in the villages I tried to bribe any +one to carry my knapsack or to give me food, the peasants ran from +me. They thought I was a German and talked Flemish, not French. I +was more afraid of them and their shotguns than of the Germans, +and I never entered a village unless German soldiers were entering +or leaving it. And the Germans gave me no reason to feel free from +care. Every time they read my pass they were inclined to try me all +over again, and twice searched my knapsack. + +After that happened the second time I guessed my letter to the +President of France might prove a menace, and, tearing it into little +pieces, dropped it over a bridge, and with regret watched that +historical document from the ex-President of one republic to the +President of another float down the Sambre toward the sea. By noon +I decided I would not be able to make the distance. For twenty-four +hours I had been without sleep or food, and I had been put through +an unceasing third degree, and I was nearly out. Added to that, the +chance of my losing the road was excellent; and if I lost the road the +first German who read my pass was ordered by it to shoot me. So I +decided to give myself up to the occupants of the next German car +going toward Brussels and ask them to carry me there under arrest. I +waited until an automobile approached, and then stood in front of it +and held up my pass and pointed to the red seal. The car stopped, +and the soldiers in front and the officer in the rear seat gazed at me in +indignant amazement. The officer was a general, old and kindly +looking, and, by the grace of Heaven, as slow-witted as he was kind. +He spoke no English, and his French was as bad as mine, and in +consequence he had no idea of what I was saying except that I had +orders from the General Staff to proceed at once to Brussels. I made +a mystery of the pass, saying it was very confidential, but the red seal +satisfied him. He bade me courteously to take the seat at his side, +and with intense satisfaction I heard him command his orderly to get +down and fetch my knapsack. The general was going, he said, only +so far as Hal, but that far he would carry me. Hal was the last town +named in my pass, and from Brussels only eleven miles distant. +According to the schedule I had laid out for myself, I had not hoped to +reach it by walking until the next day, but at the rate the car had +approached I saw I would be there within two hours. My feelings +when I sank back upon the cushions of that car and stretched out my +weary legs and the wind whistled around us are too sacred for cold +print. It was a situation I would not have used in fiction. I was a +condemned spy, with the hand of every German properly against me, +and yet under the protection of a German general, and in luxurious +ease, I was escaping from them at forty miles an hour. I had but one +regret. I wanted Rupert of Hentzau to see me. At Hal my luck still +held. The steps of the Hôtel de Ville were crowded with generals. I +thought never in the world could there be so many generals, so many +flowing cloaks and spiked helmets. I was afraid of them. I was afraid +that when my general abandoned me the others might not prove so +slow-witted or so kind. My general also seemed to regard them with +disfavor. He exclaimed impatiently. Apparently, to force his way +through them, to cool his heels in an anteroom, did not appeal. It was +long past his luncheon hour and the restaurant of the Palace Hotel +called him. He gave a sharp order to the chauffeur. + +"I go on to Brussels," he said. "Desire you to accompany me?" I did +not know how to ask him in French not to make me laugh. I saw the +great Palace of Justice that towers above the city with the same +emotions that one beholds the Statue of Liberty, but not until we had +reached the inner boulevards did I feel safe. There I bade my friend a +grateful but hasty adieu, and in a taxicab, unwashed and unbrushed, I +drove straight to the American legation. To Mr. Whitlock I told this +story, and with one hand that gentleman reached for his hat and with +the other for his stick. In the automobile of the legation we raced to +the Hôtel de Ville. There Mr. Whitlock, as the moving-picture people +say, "registered" indignation. Mr. Davis was present, he made it +understood, not as a ticket-of-leave man, and because he had been +ordered to report, but in spite of that fact. He was there as the friend +of the American minister, and the word "Spion" must be removed +from his papers. + +And so, on the pass that Rupert gave me, below where he had +written that I was to be treated as a spy, they wrote I was "not at all," +"gar nicht," to be treated as a spy, and that I was well known to the +American minister, and to that they affixed the official seal. + +That ended it, leaving me with one valuable possession. It is this: +should any one suggest that I am a spy, or that I am not a friend of +Brand Whitlock, I have the testimony of the Imperial German +Government to the contrary. + + + + +Chapter III +The Burning Of Louvain + + + +After the Germans occupied Brussels they closed the road to Aix-la- +Chapelle. A week later, to carry their wounded and prisoners, they +reopened it. But for eight days Brussels was isolated. The mail-trains +and the telegraph office were in the hands of the invaders. They +accepted our cables, censored them, and three days later told us, if +we still wished, we could forward them. But only from Holland. By this +they accomplished three things: they learned what we were writing +about them, for three days prevented any news from leaving the city, +and offered us an inducement to visit Holland, so getting rid of us. + +The despatches of those diplomats who still remained in Brussels +were treated in the same manner. With the most cheerful +complacency the military authorities blue-pencilled their despatches +to their governments. When the diplomats learned of this, with their +code cables they sent open cables stating that their confidential +despatches were being censored and delayed. They still were +delayed. To get any message out of Brussels it was necessary to use +an automobile, and nearly every automobile had taken itself off to +Antwerp. If a motor-car appeared it was at once commandeered. This +was true also of horses and bicycles. All over Brussels you saw +delivery wagons, private carriages, market carts with the shafts empty +and the horse and harness gone. After three days a German soldier +who did not own a bicycle was poor indeed. + +Requisitions were given for these machines, stating they would be +returned after the war, by which time they will be ready for the scrap- +heap. Any one on a bicycle outside the city was arrested, so the only +way to get messages through was by going on foot to Ostend or +Holland, or by an automobile for which the German authorities +had given a special pass. As no one knew when one of these +automobiles might start, we carried always with us our cables and +letters, and intrusted them to any stranger who was trying to run the +lines. + +No one wished to carry our despatches, as he feared they might +contain something unfavorable to the Germans, which, if he were +arrested and the cables read, might bring him into greater trouble. +Money for himself was no inducement. But I found if I gave money for +the Red Cross no one would refuse it, or to carry the messages. + +Three out of four times the stranger would be arrested and ordered +back to Brussels, and our despatches, with their news value +departed, would be returned. + +An account of the Germans entering Brussels I sent by an English +boy named Dalton, who, after being turned back three times, got +through by night, and when he arrived in England his adventures +were published in all the London papers. They were so thrilling that +they made my story, for which he had taken the trip, extremely tame +reading. + +Hugh Gibson, secretary of the American legation, was the first person +in an official position to visit Antwerp after the Belgian Government +moved to that city, and, even with his passes and flag flying from his +automobile, he reached Antwerp and returned to Brussels only after +many delays and adventures. Not knowing the Belgians were +advancing from the north, Gibson and his American flag were several +times under fire, and on the days he chose for his excursion his route +led him past burning towns and dead and wounded and between the +lines of both forces actively engaged. + +He was carrying despatches from Brand Whitlock to Secretary Bryan. +During the night he rested at Antwerp the first Zeppelin air-ship to visit +that city passed over it, dropping one bomb at the end of the block in +which Gibson was sleeping. He was awakened by the explosion and +heard all of those that followed. + +The next morning he was requested to accompany a committee +appointed by the Belgian Government to report upon the outrage, +and he visited a house that had been wrecked, and saw what was left +of the bodies of those killed. People who were in the streets when the +air-ship passed said it moved without any sound, as though the motor +had been shut off and it was being propelled by momentum. + +One bomb fell so near the palace where the Belgian Queen was +sleeping as to destroy the glass in the windows and scar the walls. +The bombs were large, containing smaller bombs of the size of +shrapnel. Like shrapnel, on impact they scattered bullets over a +radius of forty yards. One man, who from a window in the eighth story +of a hotel watched the air-ship pass, stated that before each bomb fell +he saw electric torches signal from the roofs, as though giving +directions as to where the bombs should strike. + +After my arrest by the Germans, I found my usefulness in Brussels as +a correspondent was gone, and I returned to London, and from there +rejoined the Allies in Paris. + +I left Brussels on August 27th with Gerald Morgan and Will Irwin, of +Collier's, on a train carrying English prisoners and German wounded. +In times of peace the trip to the German border lasts three hours, but +in making it we were twenty-six hours, and by order of the authorities +we were forbidden to leave the train. + +Carriages with cushions naturally were reserved for the wounded, so +we slept on wooden benches and on the floor. It was not possible to +obtain food, and water was as scarce. At Graesbeek, ten miles from +Brussels, we first saw houses on fire. They continued with us to +Liege. + +Village after village had been completely wrecked. In his march to the +sea Sherman lived on the country. He did not destroy it, and as +against the burning of Columbia must be placed to the discredit of the +Germans the wiping out of an entire countryside. + +For many miles we saw procession after procession of peasants +fleeing from one burning village, which had been their home, to other +villages, to find only blackened walls and smouldering ashes. In no +part of northern Europe is there a countryside fairer than that +between Aix-la-Chapelle and Brussels, but the Germans had made of +it a graveyard. It looked as though a cyclone had uprooted its houses, +gardens, and orchards and a prairie fire had followed. + +At seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at what for six hundred +years had been the city of Louvain. The Germans were burning it, +and to hide their work kept us locked in the railroad carriages. But the +story was written against the sky, was told to us by German soldiers +incoherent with excesses; and we could read it in the faces of women +and children being led to concentration camps and of citizens on their +way to be shot. + +The day before the Germans had sentenced Louvain to become a +wilderness, and with German system and love of thoroughness they +left Louvain an empty, blackened shell. The reason for this appeal to +the torch and the execution of non-combatants, as given to Mr. +Whitlock and myself on the morning I left Brussels by General von +Lutwitz, the military governor, was this: The day before, while the +German military commander of the troops in Louvain was at the Hôtel +de Ville talking to the burgomaster, a son of the burgomaster, with an +automatic pistol, shot the chief of staff and German staff surgeons. + +Lutwitz claimed this was the signal for the civil guard, in civilian +clothes on the roofs, to fire upon the German soldiers in the open +square below. He said also the Belgians had quick-firing guns, +brought from Antwerp. As for a week the Germans had occupied +Louvain and closely guarded all approaches, the story that there was +any gun-running is absurd. + +"Fifty Germans were killed and wounded," said Lutwitz, "and for that +Louvain must be wiped out--so!" In pantomime with his fist he swept +the papers across his table. + +"The Hôtel de Ville," he added, "was a beautiful building; it is a pity it +must be destroyed." + +Were he telling us his soldiers had destroyed a kitchen-garden, his +tone could not have expressed less regret. + +Ten days before I had been in Louvain, when it was occupied by +Belgian troops and King Albert and his staff. The city dates from the +eleventh century, and the population was forty-two thousand. The +citizens were brewers, lace-makers, and manufacturers of ornaments +for churches. The university once was the most celebrated in +European cities and was the headquarters of the Jesuits. + +In the Louvain College many priests now in America have been +educated, and ten days before, over the great yellow walls of the +college, I had seen hanging two American flags. I had found the city +clean, sleepy, and pretty, with narrow, twisting streets and smart +shops and cafés. Set in flower gardens were the houses, with red +roofs, green shutters, and white walls. + +Over those that faced south had been trained pear-trees, their +branches, heavy with fruit, spread out against the walls like branches +of candelabra. The town hall was an example of Gothic architecture, +in detail and design more celebrated even than the town hall of +Bruges or Brussels. It was five hundred years old, and lately had +been repaired with taste and at great cost. + +Opposite was the Church of St. Pierre, dating from the fifteenth +century, a very noble building, with many chapels filled with carvings +of the time of the Renaissance in wood, stone, and iron. In the +university were one hundred and fifty thousand volumes. + +Near it was the bronze statue of Father Damien, priest of the leper +colony in the South Pacific, of whom Robert Louis Stevenson wrote. + +On the night of the 27th these buildings were empty, exploded +cartridges. Statues, pictures, carvings, parchments, archives--all +these were gone. + +No one defends the sniper. But because ignorant Mexicans, when +their city was invaded, fired upon our sailors, we did not destroy Vera +Cruz. Even had we bombarded Vera Cruz, money could have +restored that city. Money can never restore Louvain. Great architects +and artists, dead these six hundred years, made it beautiful, and their +handiwork belonged to the world. With torch and dynamite the +Germans turned those masterpieces into ashes, and all the Kaiser's +horses and all his men cannot bring them back again. + +When our troop train reached Louvain, the entire heart of the city was +destroyed, and the fire had reached the Boulevard Tirlemont, which +faces the railroad station. The night was windless, and the sparks +rose in steady, leisurely pillars, falling back into the furnace from +which they sprang. In their work the soldiers were moving from the +heart of the city to the outskirts, street by street, from house to house. + +In each building they began at the first floor and, when that was +burning steadily, passed to the one next. There were no exceptions-- +whether it was a store, chapel, or private residence, it was destroyed. +The occupants had been warned to go, and in each deserted shop or +house the furniture was piled, the torch was stuck under it, and into +the air went the savings of years, souvenirs of children, of parents, +heirlooms that had passed from generation to generation. + +The people had time only to fill a pillowcase and fly. Some were not +so fortunate, and by thousands, like flocks of sheep, they were +rounded up and marched through the night to concentration camps. +We were not allowed to speak to any citizen of Louvain, but the +Germans crowded the windows of the train, boastful, gloating, eager +to interpret. + +In the two hours during which the train circled the burning city war +was before us in its most hateful aspect. + +In other wars I have watched men on one hilltop, without haste, +without heat, fire at men on another hill, and in consequence on both +sides good men were wasted. But in those fights there were no +women or children, and the shells struck only vacant stretches of +veldt or uninhabited mountain sides. + +At Louvain it was war upon the defenceless, war upon churches, +colleges, shops of milliners and lace-makers; war brought to the +bedside and the fireside; against women harvesting in the fields, +against children in wooden shoes at play in the streets. + +At Louvain that night the Germans were like men after an orgy. + +There were fifty English prisoners, erect and soldierly. In the ocean of +gray the little patch of khaki looked pitifully lonely, but they regarded +the men who had outnumbered but not defeated them with calm, +uncurious eyes. In one way I was glad to see them there. Later they +will bear witness. They will tell how the enemy makes a wilderness +and calls it war. It was a most weird picture. On the high ground rose +the broken spires of the Church of St. Pierre and the Hôtel de Ville, +and descending like steps were row beneath row of houses, roofless, +with windows like blind eyes. The fire had reached the last row of +houses, those on the Boulevard de Jodigne. Some of these were +already cold, but others sent up steady, straight columns of flame. In +others at the third and fourth stories the window curtains still hung, +flowers still filled the window-boxes, while on the first floor the torch +had just passed and the flames were leaping. Fire had destroyed the +electric plant, but at times the flames made the station so light that +you could see the second-hand of your watch, and again all was +darkness, lit only by candles. + +You could tell when an officer passed by the electric torch he carried +strapped to his chest. In the darkness the gray uniforms filled the +station with an army of ghosts. You distinguished men only when +pipes hanging from their teeth glowed red or their bayonets flashed. + +Outside the station in the public square the people of Louvain passed +in an unending procession, women bareheaded, weeping, men +carrying the children asleep on their shoulders, all hemmed in by the +shadowy army of gray wolves. Once they were halted, and among +them were marched a line of men. These were on their way to be +shot. And, better to point the moral, an officer halted both processions +and, climbing to a cart, explained why the men were to die. He +warned others not to bring down upon themselves a like vengeance. + +As those being led to spend the night in the fields looked across to +those marked for death they saw old friends, neighbors of long +standing, men of their own household. The officer bellowing at them +from the cart was illuminated by the headlights of an automobile. He +looked like an actor held in a spotlight on a darkened stage. + +It was all like a scene upon the stage, unreal, inhuman. You felt it +could not be true. You felt that the curtain of fire, purring and crackling +and sending up hot sparks to meet the kind, calm stars, was only a +painted backdrop; that the reports of rifles from the dark ruins came +from blank cartridges, and that these trembling shopkeepers and +peasants ringed in bayonets would not in a few minutes really die, but +that they themselves and their homes would be restored to their +wives and children. + +You felt it was only a nightmare, cruel and uncivilized. And then you +remembered that the German Emperor has told us what it is. It is his +Holy War. + + + + +Chapter IV +Paris In War Time + + + +Those who, when the Germans approached, fled from Paris, +described it as a city doomed, as a waste place, desolate as a +graveyard. Those who run away always are alarmists. They are on +the defensive. They must explain why they ran away. + +Early in September Paris was like a summer hotel out of season. The +owners had temporarily closed it; the windows were barred, the +furniture and paintings draped in linen, a caretaker and a night- +watchman were in possession. + +It is an old saying that all good Americans go to Paris when they die. +Most of them take no chances and prefer to visit it while they are alive. +Before this war, if the visitor was disappointed, it was the fault of +the visitor, not of Paris. She was all things to all men. To some she +offered triumphal arches, statues, paintings; to others by day racing, +and by night Maxims and the Rat Mort. Some loved her for the book- +stalls along the Seine and ateliers of the Latin Quarter; some for her +parks, forests, gardens, and boulevards; some because of the +Luxembourg; some only as a place where everybody was smiling, +happy, and polite, where they were never bored, where they were +always young, where the lights never went out and there was no early +call. Should they to-day revisit her they would find her grown grave +and decorous, and going to bed at sundown, but still smiling bravely, +still polite. + +You cannot wipe out Paris by removing two million people and closing +Cartier's and the Café de Paris. There still remains some hundred +miles of boulevards, the Seine and her bridges, the Arc de Triomphe, +with the sun setting behind it, and the Gardens of the Tuilleries. You +cannot send them to the store-house or wrap them in linen. And the +spirit of the people of Paris you cannot crush nor stampede. + +Between Paris in peace and Paris to-day the most striking difference +is lack of population. Idle rich, the employees of the government, and +tourists of all countries are missing. They leave a great emptiness. +When you walk the streets you feel either that you are up very early, +before any one is awake, or that you are in a boom town from which +the boom has departed. + +On almost every one of the noted shops "Fermé" is written, or it has +been turned over to the use of the Red Cross. Of the smaller shops +those that remain open are chiefly bakeshops and chemists, but no +man need go naked or hungry; in every block he will find at least one +place where he can be clothed and fed. But the theatres are all +closed. No one is in a mood to laugh, and certainly no one wishes to +consider anything more serious than the present crisis. So there are +no revues, operas, or comedies. + +The thing you missed perhaps most were the children in the Avenue +des Champs Elysées. For generations over that part of the public +garden the children have held sway. They knew it belonged to them, +and into the gravel walks drove their tin spades with the same sense +of ownership as at Deauville they dig up the shore. Their straw hats +and bare legs, their Normandy nurses, with enormous head-dresses, +blue for a boy and pink for a girl, were, of the sights of Paris, one of +the most familiar. And when the children vanished they left a dreary +wilderness. You could look for a mile, from the Place de la Concorde +to the Arc de Triomphe, and not see a child. The stalls, where they +bought hoops and skipping-ropes, the flying wooden horses, Punch- +and-Judy shows, booths where with milk they refreshed themselves +and with bonbons made themselves ill, all were deserted and +boarded up. + +The closing down of the majority of the shops and hotels was not due +to a desire on the part of those employed in them to avoid the +Germans, but to get at the Germans. + +On shop after shop are signs reading: "The proprietor and staff are +with the colors," or "The personnel of this establishment is mobilized," +or "Monsieur------informs his clients that he is with his regiment." + +In the absence of men at the front, Frenchwomen, at all times +capable and excellent managers, have surpassed themselves. In my +hotel there were employed seven women and one man. In another +hotel I visited the entire staff was composed of women. + +An American banker offered his twenty-two polo ponies to the +government. They were refused as not heavy enough. He did not +know that, and supposed he had lost them. Later he learned from the +wife of his trainer, a Frenchwoman, that those employed in his stables +at Versailles who had not gone to the front at the approach of the +Germans had fled, and that for three weeks his string of twenty-two +horses had been fed, groomed, and exercised by the trainer's wife +and her two little girls. + +To an American it was very gratifying to hear the praise of the French +and English for the American ambulance at Neuilly. It is the outgrowth +of the American hospital, and at the start of this war was organized by +Mrs. Herrick, wife of our ambassador, and other ladies of the +American colony in Paris, and the American doctors. They took over +the Lycée Pasteur, an enormous school at Neuilly, that had just been +finished and never occupied, and converted it into what is a most +splendidly equipped hospital. In walking over the building you find it +hard to believe that it was intended for any other than its present use. +The operating rooms, kitchens, wards, rooms for operating by +Roentgen rays, and even a chapel have been installed. + +The organization and system are of the highest order. Every one in it +is American. The doctors are the best in Paris. The nurses and +orderlies are both especially trained for the work and volunteers. The +spirit of helpfulness and unselfishness is everywhere apparent. +Certain members of the American colony, who never in their lives +thought of any one save themselves, and of how to escape boredom, +are toiling like chambermaids and hall porters, performing most +disagreeable tasks, not for a few hours a week, but unceasingly, day +after day. No task is too heavy for them or too squalid. They help all +alike--Germans, English, major-generals, and black Turcos. + +There are three hundred patients. The staff of the hospital numbers +one hundred and fifty. It is composed of the best-known American +doctors in Paris and a few from New York. Among the volunteer +nurses and attendants are wives of bankers in Paris, American girls +who have married French titles, and girls who since the war came +have lost employment as teachers of languages, stenographers, and +governesses. The men are members of the Jockey Club, art +students, medical students, clerks, and boulevardiers. They are all +working together in most admirable harmony and under an +organization that in its efficiency far surpasses that of any other +hospital in Paris. Later it is going to split the American colony in twain. +If you did not work in the American ambulance you won't belong. + +Attached to the hospital is a squadron of automobile ambulances, ten +of which were presented by the Ford Company and ten purchased. +Their chassis have been covered with khaki hoods and fitted to +carry two wounded men and attendants. On their runs they are +accompanied by automobiles with medical supplies, tires, and +gasolene. The ambulances scout at the rear of the battle line and +carry back those which the field-hospitals cannot handle. + +One day I watched the orderlies who accompany these ambulances +handling about forty English wounded, transferring them from the +automobiles to the reception hall, and the smartness and intelligence +with which the members of each crew worked together was like that +of a champion polo team. The editor of a London paper, who was in +Paris investigating English hospital conditions, witnessed the same +performance, and told me that in handling the wounded it surpassed +in efficiency anything he had seen. + + + + +Chapter V +The Battle Of Soissons + + + +The struggle for the possession of Soissons lasted two days. The +second day's battle, which I witnessed, ended with the city in the +possession of the French. It was part of the seven days' of +continuous fighting that began on September 6th at Meaux. Then the +German left wing, consisting of the army of General von Kluck, was at +Claye, within fifteen miles of Paris. But the French and English, +instead of meeting the advance with a defence, themselves attacked. +Steadily, at the rate of ten miles a day, they drove the Germans back +across the Aisne and the Marne, and so saved the city. + +When this retrograde movement of the Germans began, those who +could not see the nature of the fighting believed that the German line +of communication, the one from Aix-la-Chapelle through Belgium, had +proved too long, and that the left wing was voluntarily withdrawing to +meet the new line of communication through Luxembourg. But the +fields of battle beyond Meaux, through which it was necessary to +pass to reach the fight at Sois-sons, showed no evidence of leisurely +withdrawal. On both sides there were evidences of the most +desperate fighting and of artillery fire that was wide-spread and +desolating. That of the Germans, intended to destroy the road from +Meaux and to cover their retreat, showed marksmanship so accurate +and execution so terrible as, while it lasted, to render pursuit +impossible. + +The battle-field stretched from the hills three miles north of Meaux for +four miles along the road and a mile to either side. The road is lined +with poplars three feet across and as high as a five-story building. For +the four miles the road was piled with branches of these trees. The +trees themselves were split as by lightning, or torn in half, as with your +hands you could tear apart a loaf of bread. Through some, solid shell +had passed, leaving clean holes. Others looked as though drunken +woodsmen with axes from roots to topmost branches had slashed +them in crazy fury. Some shells had broken the trunks in half as a +hurricane snaps a mast. + +That no human being could survive such a bombardment were many +grewsome proofs. In one place for a mile the road was lined with +those wicker baskets in which the Germans carry their ammunition. +These were filled with shells, unexploded, and behind the trenches +were hundreds more of these baskets, some for the shells of the +siege-guns, as large as lobster-pots or umbrella-stands, and others, +each with three compartments, for shrapnel. In gutters along the road +and in the wheat-fields these brass shells flashed in the sunshine like +tiny mirrors. + +The four miles of countryside over which for four days both armies +had ploughed the earth with these shells was the picture of complete +desolation. The rout of the German army was marked by knapsacks, +uniforms, and accoutrements scattered over the fields on either hand +as far as you could see. Red Cross flags hanging from bushes +showed where there had been dressing stations. Under them were +blood-stains, bandages and clothing, and boots piled in heaps as +high as a man's chest, and the bodies of those German soldiers that +the first aid had failed to save. + +After death the body is mercifully robbed of its human aspect. You are +spared the thought that what is lying in the trenches among the +shattered trees and in the wheat-fields staring up at the sky was once +a man. It appears to be only a bundle of clothes, a scarecrow that +has tumbled among the grain it once protected. But it gives a terrible +meaning to the word "missing." When you read in the reports from +the War Office that five thousand are "missing," you like to think of +them safely cared for in a hospital or dragging out the period of the +war as prisoners. But the real missing are the unidentified dead. In +time some peasant will bury them, but he will not understand the +purpose of the medal each wears around his neck. And so, with the +dead man will be buried his name and the number of his regiment. No +one will know where he fell or where he lies. Some one will always +hope that he will return. For, among the dead his name did not +appear. He was reported "missing." + +The utter wastefulness of war was seldom more clearly shown. +Carcasses of horses lined the road. Some few of these had been +killed by shell-fire. Others, worn out and emaciated, and bearing the +brand of the German army, had been mercifully destroyed; but the +greater number of them were the farm horses of peasants, still +wearing their head-stalls or the harness of the plough. That they +might not aid the enemy as remounts, the Germans in their retreat +had shot them. I saw four and five together in the yards of stables, +the bullet-hole of an automatic in the head of each. Others lay beside +the market cart, others by the canal, where they had sought water. + +Less pitiful, but still evidencing the wastefulness of war, were the +motor-trucks, and automobiles that in the flight had been abandoned. +For twenty miles these automobiles were scattered along the road. +There were so many one stopped counting them. Added to their loss +were two shattered German airships. One I saw twenty-six kilometres +outside of Meaux and one at Bouneville. As they fell they had buried +their motors deep in the soft earth and their wings were twisted +wrecks of silk and steel. + +All the fields through which the army passed had become waste land. +Shells had re-ploughed them. Horses and men had camped in them. +The haystacks, gathered by the sweat of the brow and patiently set in +trim rows were trampled in the mud and scattered to the winds. All the +smaller villages through which I passed were empty of people, and +since the day before, when the Germans occupied them, none of the +inhabitants had returned. These villages were just as the Germans +had left them. The streets were piled with grain on which the soldiers +had slept, and on the sidewalks in front of the better class of houses +tables around which the officers had eaten still remained, the bottles +half empty, the food half eaten. + +In a château beyond Neufchelles the doors and windows were open +and lace curtains were blowing in the breeze. From the garden you +could see paintings on the walls, books on the tables. Outside, on the +lawn, surrounded by old and charming gardens, apparently the +general and his staff had prepared to dine. The table was set for a +dozen, and on it were candles in silver sticks, many bottles of red and +white wine, champagne, liqueurs, and coffee-cups of the finest china. +From their banquet some alarm had summoned the officers. The +place was as they had left it, the coffee untasted, the candles burned +to the candlesticks, and red stains on the cloth where the burgundy +had spilled. In the bright sunlight, and surrounded by flowers, the +deserted table and the silent, stately château seemed like the +sleeping palace of the fairy-tale. + +Though the humor of troops retreating is an ugly one, I saw no +outrages such as I saw in Belgium. Except in the villages of Neuf- +chelles and Varreddes, there was no sign of looting or wanton +destruction. But in those two villages the interior of every home and +shop was completely wrecked. In the other villages the destruction +was such as is permitted by the usages of war, such as the blowing +up of bridges, the burning of the railroad station, and the cutting of +telegraph-wires. + +Not until Bouneville, thirty kilometres beyond Meaux, did I catch up +with the Allies. There I met some English Tommies who were trying to +find their column. They had no knowledge of the French language, or +where they were, or where their regiment was, but were quite +confident of finding it, and were as cheerful as at manÅ“uvres. +Outside of Chaudun the road was blocked with tirailleurs, Algerians in +light-blue Zouave uniforms, and native Turcos from Morocco in khaki, +with khaki turbans. They shivered in the autumn sunshine, and were +wrapped in burnooses of black and white. They were making a +turning movement to attack the German right, and were being hurried +forward. They had just driven the German rear-guard out of Chaudun, +and said that the fighting was still going on at Soissons. But the only +sign I saw of it were two Turcos who had followed the Germans too +far. They lay sprawling in the road, and had so lately fallen that their +rifles still lay under them. Three miles farther I came upon the +advance line of the French army, and for the remainder of the day +watched a most remarkable artillery duel, which ended with Soissons +in the hands of the Allies. + +Soissons is a pretty town of four thousand inhabitants. It is chiefly +known for its haricot beans, and since the Romans held it under +Caesar it has been besieged many times. Until to-day the Germans +had held it for two weeks. In 1870 they bombarded it for four days, +and there is, or was, in Soissons, in the Place de la République, a +monument to those citizens of Soissons whom after that siege the +Germans shot. The town lies in the valley of the River Aisne, which is +formed by two long ridges running south and north. + +The Germans occupied the hills to the south, but when attacked +offered only slight resistance and withdrew to the hills opposite. In +Soissons they left a rear-guard to protect their supplies, who were +destroying all bridges leading into the town. At the time I arrived a +force of Turcos had been ordered forward to clean Soissons of the +Germans, and the French artillery was endeavoring to disclose their +positions on the hills. The loss of the bridges did not embarrass the +black men. In rowboats they crossed to Soissons and were warmly +greeted. Soissons was drawing no color-line. The Turcos were +followed by engineers, who endeavored to repair one bridge and in +consequence were heavily shelled with shrapnel, while, with the intent +to destroy the road and retard the French advance, the hills where +the French had halted were being pounded by German siege-guns. + +This was at a point four kilometres from Chaudun, between the +villages of Breuil and Courtelles. From this height you could see +almost to Compiègne, and thirty miles in front in the direction of Saint- +Quentin. It was a panorama of wooded hills, gray villages in fields of +yellow grain, miles of poplars marking the roads, and below us the +flashing waters of the Aisne and the canal, with at our feet the +steeples of the cathedral of Soissons and the gate to the old abbey of +Thomas à Becket. Across these steeples the shells sang, and on +both sides of the Aisne Valley the artillery was engaged. The wind +was blowing forty knots, which prevented the use of the French +aeroplanes, but it cleared the air, and, helped by brilliant sunshine, it +was possible to follow the smoke of the battle for fifteen miles. The +wind was blowing toward our right, where we were told were the +English, and though as their shrapnel burst we could see the flash of +guns and rings of smoke, the report of the guns did not reach us. It +gave the curious impression of a bombardment conducted in utter +silence. + +From our left the wind carried the sounds clearly. The jar and roar of +the cannon were insistent, and on both sides of the valley the hilltops +were wrapped with white clouds. Back of us in the wheat-fields shells +were setting fire to the giant haystacks and piles of grain, which in the +clear sunshine burned a blatant red. At times shells would strike in +the villages of Breuil and Vauxbain, and houses would burst into +flames, the gale fanning the fire to great height and hiding the village +in smoke. Some three hundred yards ahead of us the shells of +German siege-guns were trying to destroy the road, which the +poplars clearly betrayed. But their practice was at fault, and the shells +fell only on either side. When they struck they burst with a roar, +casting up black fumes and digging a grave twenty yards in +circumference. + +But the French soldiers disregarded them entirely. In the trenches +which the Germans had made and abandoned they hid from the wind +and slept peacefully. Others slept in the lee of the haystacks, their red +breeches and blue coats making wonderful splashes of color against +the yellow grain. For seven days these same men had been fighting +without pause, and battles bore them. + +Late in the afternoon, all along the fifteen miles of battle, firing +ceased, for the Germans were falling back, and once more Soissons, +freed of them as fifteen hundred years ago she had freed herself of +the Romans, held out her arms to the Allies. + + + + +Chapter VI +The Bombardment of Rheims + + + +In several ways the city of Rheims is celebrated. Some know her only +through her cathedral, where were crowned all but six of the kings of +France, and where the stained-glass windows, with those in the +cathedrals of Chartres and Burgos, Spain, are the most beautiful in all +the world. Children know Rheims through the wicked magpie which +the archbishop excommunicated, and to their elders, if they are rich, +Rheims is the place from which comes all their champagne. + +On September 4th the Germans entered Rheims, and occupied it +until the 12th, when they retreated across the Vesle to the hills north +of the city. + +On the 18th the French forces, having entered Rheims, the Germans +bombarded the city with field-guns and howitzers. + +Rheims is fifty-six miles from Paris, but, though I started at an early +hour, so many bridges had been destroyed that I did not reach the +city until three o'clock in the afternoon. At that hour the French +artillery, to the east at Nogent and immediately outside the northern +edge of the town, were firing on the German positions, and the +Germans were replying, their shells falling in the heart of the city. + +The proportion of those that struck the cathedral or houses within a +hundred yards of it to those falling on other buildings was about six to +one. So what damage the cathedral suffered was from blows +delivered not by accident but with intent. As the priests put it, firing on +the church was "exprès." + +The cathedral dominates not only the city but the countryside. It rises +from the plain as Gibraltar rises from the sea, as the pyramids rise +from the desert. And at a distance of six miles, as you approach from +Paris along the valley of the Marne, it has more the appearance of a +fortress than a church. But when you stand in the square beneath +and look up, it is entirely ecclesiastic, of noble and magnificent +proportions, in design inspired, much too sublime for the kings it has +crowned, and almost worthy of the king in whose honor, seven +hundred years ago, it was reared. It has been called "perhaps the +most beautiful structure produced in the Middle Ages." On the west +façade, rising tier upon tier, are five hundred and sixty statues and +carvings. The statues are of angels, martyrs, patriarchs, apostles, the +vices and virtues, the Virgin and Child. In the centre of these is the +famous rose window; on either side giant towers. + +At my feet down the steps leading to the three portals were pools of +blood. There was a priest in the square, a young man with white hair +and with a face as strong as one of those of the saints carved in +stone, and as gentle. He was curé doyen of the Church of St. +Jacques, M. Chanoine Frezet, and he explained the pools of blood. +After the Germans retreated, the priests had carried the German +wounded up the steps into the nave of the cathedral and for them +had spread straw upon the stone flagging. + +The curé guided me to the side door, unlocked it, and led the way into +the cathedral. It is built in the form of a crucifix, and so vast is the +edifice that many chapels are lost in it, and the lower half is in a +shadow. But from high above the stained windows of the thirteenth +century, or what was left of them, was cast a glow so gorgeous, so +wonderful, so pure that it seemed to come direct from the other world. + +From north and south the windows shed a radiance of deep blue, like +the blue of the sky by moonlight on the coldest night of winter, and +from the west the great rose window glowed with the warmth and +beauty of a thousand rubies. Beneath it, bathed in crimson light, +where for generations French men and women have knelt in prayer, +where Joan of Arc helped place the crown on Charles VII, was piled +three feet of dirty straw, and on the straw were gray-coated Germans, +covered with the mud of the fields, caked with blood, white and +haggard from the loss of it, from the lack of sleep, rest, and food. The +entire west end of the cathedral looked like a stable, and in the blue +and purple rays from the gorgeous windows the wounded were as +unreal as ghosts. Already two of them had passed into the world of +ghosts. They had not died from their wounds, but from a shell sent by +their own people. + +It had come screaming into this backwater of war, and, tearing out +leaded window-panes as you would destroy cobwebs, had burst +among those who already had paid the penalty. And so two of them, +done with pack-drill, goose-step, half rations and forced marches, lay +under the straw the priests had heaped upon them. The toes of their +boots were pointed grotesquely upward. Their gray hands were +clasped rigidly as though in prayer. + +Half hidden in the straw, the others were as silent and almost as still. +Since they had been dropped upon the stone floor they had not +moved, but lay in twisted, unnatural attitudes. Only their eyes showed +that they lived. These were turned beseechingly upon the French +Red Cross doctors, kneeling waist-high in the straw and unreeling +long white bandages. The wounded watched them drawing slowly +nearer, until they came, fighting off death, clinging to life as +shipwrecked sailors cling to a raft and watch the boats pulling toward +them. + +A young German officer, his smart cavalry cloak torn and slashed, +and filthy with dried mud and blood and with his eyes in bandages, +groped toward a pail of water, feeling his way with his foot, his arms +outstretched, clutching the air. To guide him a priest took his arm, and +the officer turned and stumbled against him. Thinking the priest was +one of his own men, he swore at him, and then, to learn if he wore +shoulder-straps, ran his fingers over the priest's shoulders, and, +finding a silk cassock, said quickly in French: "Pardon me, my father; +I am blind." + +As the young curé guided me through the wrecked cathedral his +indignation and his fear of being unjust waged a fine battle. "Every +summer," he said, "thousands of your fellow countrymen visit the +cathedral. They come again and again. They love these beautiful +windows. They will not permit them to be destroyed. Will you tell them +what you saw?" + +It is no pleasure to tell what I saw. Shells had torn out some of the +windows, the entire sash, glass, and stone frame--all was gone; only +a jagged hole was left. On the floor lay broken carvings, pieces of +stone from flying buttresses outside that had been hurled through the +embrasures, tangled masses of leaden window-sashes, like twisted +coils of barbed wire, and great brass candelabra. The steel ropes that +supported them had been shot away, and they had plunged to the +flagging below, carrying with them their scarlet silk tassels heavy with +the dust of centuries. And everywhere was broken glass. Not one of +the famous blue windows was intact. None had been totally +destroyed, but each had been shattered, and through the apertures +the sun blazed blatantly. + +We walked upon glass more precious than precious stones. It was +beyond price. No one can replace it. Seven hundred years ago the +secret of the glass died. Diamonds can be bought anywhere, pearls +can be matched, but not the stained glass of Rheims. And under our +feet, with straw and caked blood, it lay crushed into tiny fragments. +When you held a piece of it between your eye and the sun it glowed +with a light that never was on land or sea. + +War is only waste. The German Emperor thinks it is thousands of +men in flashing breastplates at manoeuvres, galloping past him, +shouting "Hoch der Kaiser!" Until this year that is all of war he has +ever seen. + +I have seen a lot of it, and real war is his high-born officer with his +eyes shot out, his peasant soldiers with their toes sticking stiffly +through the straw, and the windows of Rheims, that for centuries with +their beauty glorified the Lord, swept into a dust heap. + +Outside the cathedral I found the bombardment of the city was still +going forward and that the French batteries to the north and east +were answering gun for gun. How people will act under unusual +conditions no one can guess. Many of the citizens of Rheims were +abandoning their homes and running through the streets leading +west, trembling, weeping, incoherent with terror, carrying nothing with +them. Others were continuing the routine of life with anxious faces but +making no other sign. The great majority had moved to the west of +the city to the Paris gate, and for miles lined the road, but had taken +little or nothing with them, apparently intending to return at nightfall. +They were all of the poorer class. The houses of the rich were closed, +as were all the shops, except a few cafés and those that offered for +sale bread, meat, and medicine. + +During the morning the bombardment destroyed many houses. One +to each block was the average, except around the cathedral, where +two hotels that face it and the Palace of Justice had been pounded +but not destroyed. Other shops and residences facing the cathedral +had been ripped open from roof to cellar. In one a fire was burning +briskly, and firemen were playing on it with hose. I was their only +audience. A sight that at other times would have collected half of +Rheims and blocked traffic, in the excitement of the bombardment +failed to attract. The Germans were using howitzers. Where shells hit +in the street they tore up the Belgian blocks for a radius of five yards, +and made a hole as though a water-main had burst. When they hit a +house, that house had to be rebuilt. Before they struck it was possible +to follow the direction of the shells by the sound. It was like the +jangling of many telegraph-wires. + +A hundred yards north of the cathedral I saw a house hit at the third +story. The roof was of gray slate, high and sloping, with tall chimneys. +When the shell exploded the roof and chimneys disappeared. You did +not see them sink and tumble; they merely vanished. They had been +a part of the sky-line of Rheims; then a shell removed them and +another roof fifteen feet lower down became the sky-line. + +I walked to the edge of the city, to the northeast, but at the outskirts +all the streets were barricaded with carts and paving-stones, and +when I wanted to pass forward to the French batteries the officers in +charge of the barricades refused permission. At this end of the town, +held in reserve in case of a German advance, the streets were +packed with infantry. The men were going from shop to shop trying to +find one the Germans had not emptied. Tobacco was what they +sought. + +They told me they had been all the way to Belgium and back, but I +never have seen men more fit. Where Germans are haggard and +show need of food and sleep, the French were hard and moved +quickly and were smiling. + +One reason for this is that even if the commissariat is slow they are +fed by their own people, and when in Belgium by the Allies. But when +the Germans pass the people hide everything eatable and bolt the +doors. And so, when the German supply wagons fail to come up the +men starve. + +I went in search of the American consul, William Bardel. Everybody +seemed to know him, and all men spoke well of him. They liked him +because he stuck to his post, but the mayor had sent for him, and I +could find neither him nor the mayor. + +When I left the cathedral I had told my chauffeur to wait near by it, not +believing the Germans would continue to make it their point of attack. +He waited until two houses within a hundred yards of him were +knocked down, and then went away from there, leaving word with the +sentry that I could find him outside the gate to Paris. When I found +him he was well outside and refused to return, saying he would sleep +in his car. + +On the way back I met a steady stream of women and old men +fleeing before the shells. Their state was very pitiful. Some of them +seemed quite dazed with fear and ran, dodging, from one sidewalk to +the other, and as shells burst above them prayed aloud and crossed +themselves. Others were busy behind the counters of their shops +serving customers, and others stood in doorways holding in their +hands their knitting. Frenchwomen of a certain class always knit. If +they were waiting to be electrocuted they would continue knitting. + +The bombardment had grown sharper and the rumble of guns was +uninterrupted, growling like thunder after a summer storm or as the +shells passed shrieking and then bursting with jarring detonations. +Underfoot the pavements were inch-deep with fallen glass, and as +you walked it tinkled musically. With inborn sense of order, some of +the housewives abandoned their knitting and calmly swept up the +glass into neat piles. Habit is often so much stronger than fear. So is +curiosity. All the boys and many young men and maidens were in the +middle of the street watching to see where the shells struck and on +the lookout for aeroplanes. When about five o'clock one sailed over +the city, no one knew whether it was German or French, but every +one followed it, apparently intending if it launched a bomb to be in at +the death. + +I found all the hotels closed and on their doors I pounded in vain, and +was planning to go back to my car when I stumbled upon the Hôtel +du Nord. It was open and the proprietress, who was knitting, told me +the table-d'hôte dinner was ready. Not wishing to miss dinner, I halted +an aged citizen who was fleeing from the city and asked him to carry +a note to the American consul inviting him to dine. But the aged man +said the consulate was close to where the shells were falling and that +to approach it was as much as his life was worth. I asked him how +much his life was worth in money, and he said two francs. + +He did not find the consul, and I shared the table d'hôte with three +tearful old French ladies, each of whom had husband or son at the +front. That would seem to have been enough without being shelled at +home. It is a commonplace, but it is nevertheless true that in war it is +the women who suffer. The proprietress walked around the table, still +knitting, and told us tales of German officers who until the day before +had occupied her hotel, and her anecdotes were not intended to +make German officers popular. + +The bombardment ceased at eight o'clock, but at four the next +morning it woke me, and as I departed for Paris salvoes of French +artillery were returning the German fire. + +Before leaving I revisited the cathedral to see if during the night it had +been further mutilated. Around it shells were still falling, and the +square in front was deserted. In the rain the roofless houses, +shattered windows, and broken carvings that littered the street +presented a picture of melancholy and useless desolation. Around +three sides of the square not a building was intact. But facing the +wreckage the bronze statue of Joan of Arc sat on her bronze charger, +uninjured and untouched. In her right hand, lifted high above her as +though defying the German shells, some one overnight had lashed +the flag of France. + +The next morning the newspapers announced that the cathedral was +in flames, and I returned to Rheims. The papers also gave the two +official excuses offered by the Germans for the destruction of the +church. One was that the French batteries were so placed that in +replying to them it was impossible to avoid shelling the city. + +I know where the French batteries were, and if the German guns +aimed at them by error missed them and hit the cathedral, the +German marksmanship is deteriorating. To find the range the artillery +sends what in the American army are called brace shots--one aimed +at a point beyond the mark and one short of it. From the explosions of +these two shells the gunner is able to determine how far he is off the +target and accordingly regulates his sights. Not more, at the most, +than three of these experimental brace shots should be necessary, +and, as one of each brace is purposely aimed to fall short of the +target, only three German shells, or, as there were two French +positions, six German shells should have fallen beyond the batteries +and into the city. And yet for four days the city was bombarded! + +To make sure, I asked French, English, and American army officers +what margin of error they thought excusable after the range was +determined. They all agreed that after his range was found an artillery +officer who missed it by from fifty to one hundred yards ought to be +court-martialled. The Germans "missed" by one mile. + +The other excuse given by the Germans for the destruction of the +cathedral was that the towers had been used by the French for +military purposes. On arriving at Rheims the question I first asked +was whether this was true. The abbé Chinot, curé of the chapel of the +cathedral, assured me most solemnly and earnestly it was not. The +French and the German staffs, he said, had mutually agreed that on +the towers of the cathedral no quick-firing guns should be placed, and +by both sides this agreement was observed. After entering Rheims +the French, to protect the innocent citizens against bombs dropped +by German air-ships, for two nights placed a search-light on the +towers, but, fearing this might be considered a breach of agreement +as to the mitrailleuses, the abbé Chinot ordered the search-light +withdrawn. Five days later, during which time the towers were not +occupied and the cathedral had been converted into a hospital for the +German wounded and Red Cross flags were hanging from both +towers, the Germans opened fire upon it. Had it been the search-light +to which the Germans objected, they would have fired upon it when it +was in evidence, not five days after it had disappeared. + +When, with the abbé Chinot, I spent the day in what is left of the +cathedral, the Germans still were shelling it. Two shells fell within +twenty-five yards of us. It was at that time that the photographs that +illustrate this chapter were taken. + +The fire started in this way. For some months the northeast tower of +the cathedral had been under repair and surrounded by scaffolding. +On September 19th a shell set fire to the outer roof of the cathedral, +which is of lead and oak. The fire spread to the scaffolding and from +the scaffolding to the wooden beams of the portals, hundred of years +old. The abbé Chinot, young/alert, and daring, ran out upon the +scaffolding and tried to cut the cords that bound it. + +In other parts of the city the fire department was engaged with fire lit +by the bombardment, and unaided, the flames gained upon him. +Seeing this, he called for volunteers, and, under the direction of the +Archbishop of Rheims, they carried on stretchers from the burning +building the wounded Germans. The rescuing parties were not a +minute too soon. Already from the roofs molten lead, as deadly as +bullets, was falling among the wounded. The blazing doors had +turned the straw on which they lay into a prairie fire. + +Splashed by the molten lead and threatened by falling timbers, the +priests, at the risk of their lives and limbs, carried out the wounded +Germans, sixty in all. + +But, after bearing them to safety, their charges were confronted with a +new danger. Inflamed by the sight of their own dead, four hundred +citizens having been killed by the bombardment, and by the loss of +their cathedral, the people of Rheims who were gathered about the +burning building called for the lives of the German prisoners. "They +are barbarians," they cried. "Kill them!" Archbishop Landreaux and +Abbé Chinot placed themselves in front of the wounded. + +"Before you kill them," they cried, "you must first kill us." + +This is not highly colored fiction, but fact. It is more than fact. It is +history, for the picture of the venerable archbishop, with his cathedral +blazing behind him, facing a mob of his own people in defence of their +enemies, will always live in the annals of this war and in the annals of +the church. + +There were other features of this fire and bombardment which the +Catholic Church will not allow to be forgotten. The leaden roofs were +destroyed, the oak timbers that for several hundred years had +supported them were destroyed, stone statues and flying buttresses +weighing many tons were smashed into atoms, but not a single +crucifix was touched, not one waxen or wooden image of the Virgin +disturbed, not one painting of the Holy Family marred. + +I saw the Gobelin tapestries, more precious than spun gold, intact, +while sparks fell about them, and lying beneath them were iron bolts +twisted by fire, broken rooftrees and beams still smouldering. + +But the special Providence that saved the altars was not omnipotent. +The windows that were the glory of the cathedral were wrecked. +Through some the shells had passed, others the explosions had +blown into tiny fragments. Where, on my first visit, I saw in the stained +glass gaping holes, now the whole window had been torn from the +walls. Statues of saints and crusader and cherubim lay in mangled +fragments. The great bells, each of which is as large as the Liberty +Bell in Philadelphia, that for hundreds of years for Rheims have +sounded the angelus, were torn from their oak girders and melted into +black masses of silver and copper, without shape and without sound. +Never have I looked upon a picture of such pathos, of such wanton +and wicked destruction. + +The towers still stand, the walls still stand, for beneath the roofs of +lead the roof of stone remained, but what is intact is a pitiful, distorted +mass where once were exquisite and noble features. It is like the face +of a beautiful saint scarred with vitriol. + +Two days before, when I walked through the cathedral, the scene +was the same as when kings were crowned. You stood where Joan +of Arc received the homage of France. When I returned I walked +upon charred ashes, broken stone, and shattered glass. Where once +the light was dim and holy, now through great breaches in the walls +rain splashed. The spirit of the place was gone. + +Outside the cathedral, in the direction from which the shells came, for +three city blocks every house was destroyed. The palace of the +archbishop was gutted, the chapel and the robing-room of the kings +were cellars filled with rubbish. Of them only crumbling walls remain. +And on the south and west the façades of the cathedral and flying +buttresses and statues of kings, angels, and saints were mangled +and shapeless. + +I walked over the district that had been destroyed by these accidental +shots, and it stretched from the northeastern outskirts of Rheims in a +straight line to the cathedral. Shells that fell short of the cathedral for +a quarter of a mile destroyed entirely three city blocks. The heart of +this district is the Place Godinot. In every direction at a distance of +a mile from the Place Godinot I passed houses wrecked by shells +--south at the Paris gate, north at the railroad station. + +There is no part of Rheims that these shells the Germans claim were +aimed at French batteries did not hit. If Rheims accepts the German +excuse she might suggest to them that the next time they bombard, if +they aim at the city they may hit the batteries. + +The Germans claim also that the damage done was from fires, not +shells. But that is not the case; destruction by fire was slight. Houses +wrecked by shells where there was no fire outnumbered those that +were burned ten to one. In no house was there probably any other +fire than that in the kitchen stove, and that had been smothered by +falling masonry and tiles. + +Outside the wrecked area were many shops belonging to American +firms, but each of them had escaped injury. They were filled with +American typewriters, sewing-machines, and cameras. A number of +cafés bearing the sign "American Bar" testified to the nationality and +tastes of many tourists. + +I found our consul, William Bardel, at the consulate. He is a fine type +of the German-American citizen, and, since the war began, with his +wife and son has held the fort and tactfully looked after the interests +of both Americans and Germans. On both sides of him shells had +damaged the houses immediately adjoining. The one across the +street had been destroyed and two neighbors killed. + +The street in front of the consulate is a mass of fallen stone, and the +morning I called on Mr. Bardel a shell had hit his neighbor's chestnut- +tree, filled his garden with chestnut burrs, and blown out the glass of +his windows. He was patching the holes with brown wrapping-paper, +but was chiefly concerned because in his own garden the dahlias +were broken. During the first part of the bombardment, when firing +became too hot for him, he had retreated with his family to the corner +of the street, where are the cellars of the Roderers, the champagne +people. There are worse places in which to hide in than a champagne +cellar. + +Mr. Bardel has lived six years in Rheims and estimated the damage +done to property by shells at thirty millions of dollars, and said that +unless the seat of military operations was removed the champagne +crop for this year would be entirely wasted. It promised to be an +especially good year. The seasons were propitious, being dry when +sun was needed and wet when rain was needed, but unless the +grapes were gathered by the end of September the crops would be +lost. + +Of interest to Broadway is the fact that in Rheims, or rather in her +cellars, are stored nearly fifty million bottles of champagne belonging +to six of the best-known houses. Should shells reach these bottles, +the high price of living in the lobster palaces will be proportionately +increased. + +Except for Red Cross volunteers seeking among the ruins for +wounded, I found that part of the city that had suffered completely +deserted. Shells still were falling and houses as yet intact, and those +partly destroyed were empty. You saw pitiful attempts to save the +pieces. In places, as though evictions were going forward, chairs, +pictures, cooking-pans, bedding were piled in heaps. There was none +to guard them; certainly there was no one so unfeeling as to disturb +them. + +I saw neither looting nor any effort to guard against it. In their +common danger and horror the citizens of Rheims of all classes +seemed drawn closely together. The manner of all was subdued and +gentle, like those who stand at an open grave. + +The shells played the most inconceivable pranks. In some streets the +houses and shops along one side were entirely wiped out and on the +other untouched. In the Rue du Cardinal du Lorraine every house +was gone. Where they once stood were cellars filled with powdered +stone. Tall chimneys that one would have thought a strong wind +might dislodge were holding themselves erect, while the surrounding +walls, three feet thick, had been crumpled into rubbish. + +In some houses a shell had removed one room only, and as neatly +as though it were the work of masons and carpenters. It was as +though the shell had a grievance against the lodger in that particular +room. The waste was appalling. + +Among the ruins I saw good paintings in rags and in gardens statues +covered with the moss of centuries smashed. In many places, still on +the pedestal, you would see a headless Venus, or a flying Mercury +chopped off at the waist. + +Long streamers of ivy that during a century had crept higher and +higher up the wall of some noble mansion, until they were part of it, +still clung to it, although it was divided into a thousand fragments. Of +one house all that was left standing was a slice of the front wall just +wide enough to bear a sign reading: "This house is for sale; elegantly +furnished." Nothing else of that house remained. + +In some streets of the destroyed area I met not one living person. +The noise made by my feet kicking the broken glass was the only +sound. The silence, the gaping holes in the sidewalk, the ghastly +tributes to the power of the shells, and the complete desolation, made +more desolate by the bright sunshine, gave you a curious feeling that +the end of the world had come and you were the only survivor. + +This-impression was aided by the sight of many rare and valuable +articles with no one guarding them. They were things of price that one +may not carry into the next world but which in this are kept under lock +and key. + +In the Rue de l'Université, at my leisure, I could have ransacked shop +after shop or from the shattered drawing-rooms filled my pockets. +Shopkeepers had gone without waiting to lock their doors, and in +houses the fronts of which were down you could see that, in order to +save their lives, the inmates had fled at a moment's warning. + +In one street a high wall extended an entire block, but in the centre a +howitzer shell had made a breach as large as a barn door. Through +this I had a view of an old and beautiful garden, on which oasis +nothing had been disturbed. Hanging from the walls, on diamond- +shaped lattices, roses were still in bloom, and along the gravel walks +flowers of every color raised their petals to the sunshine. On the +terrace was spread a tea-service of silver and on the grass were +children's toys--hoops, tennis-balls, and flat on its back, staring up +wide-eyed at the shells, a large, fashionably dressed doll. + +In another house everything was destroyed except the mantel over +the fireplace in the drawing-room. On this stood a terra-cotta statuette +of Harlequin. It is one you have often seen. The legs are wide apart, +the arms folded, the head thrown back in an ecstasy of laughter. It +looked exactly as though it were laughing at the wreckage with which +it was surrounded. No one could have placed it where it was after the +house fell, for the approach to it was still on fire. Of all the fantastic +tricks played by the bursting shells it was the most curious. + + + + +Chapter VII +The Spirit Of The English + + + +When I left England for home I had just returned from France and +had motored many miles in both countries. Everywhere in this +greatest crisis of the century I found the people of England showing +the most undaunted and splendid spirit. To their common enemy they +are presenting an unbroken front. The civilian is playing his part just +as loyally as the soldier, the women as bravely as the men. + +They appreciate that not only their own existence is threatened, but +the future peace and welfare of the world require that the military +party of Germany must be wiped out. That is their burden, and with +the heroic Belgians to inspire them, without a whimper or a whine of +self-pity, they are bearing their burden. + +Every one in England is making sacrifices great and small. As long +ago as the middle of September it was so cold along the Aisne that I +have seen the French, sooner than move away from the open fires +they had made, risk the falling shells. Since then it has grown much +colder, and Kitchener issued an invitation to the English people to +send in what blankets they could spare for the army in the field and in +reserve. The idea was to dye the blankets khaki and then turn them +over to the supply department. In one week, so eagerly did the +people respond to this appeal, Kitchener had to publish a card stating +that no more blankets were needed. He had received over half a +million. + +The reply to Kitchener's appeal for recruits was as prompt and +generous. The men came so rapidly that the standard for enlistment +was raised. That is, I believe, in the history of warfare without +precedent. Nations often have lowered their requirements for +enlistment, but after war was once well under way to make recruiting +more difficult is new. The sacrifices are made by every class. + +There is no business enterprise of any sort that has not shown itself +unselfish. This is true of the greengrocery, the bank, the department +store, the Cotton Exchange. Each of these has sent employees to the +front, and while they are away is paying their wages and, on the +chance of their return, holding their places open. Men who are not +accepted as recruits are enrolled as special constables. They are +those who could not, without facing ruin, neglect their business. They +have signed on as policemen, and each night for four hours patrol the +posts of the regular bobbies who have gone to the front. + +The ingenuity shown in finding ways in which to help the army is +equalled only by the enthusiasm with which these suggestions are +met. Just before his death at the front, Lord Roberts called upon all +racing-men, yachtsmen, and big-game shots to send him, for the use +of the officers in the field, their field-glasses. The response was +amazingly generous. + +Other people gave their pens. The men whose names are best +known to you in British literature are at the service of the government +and at this moment are writing exclusively for the Foreign Office. They +are engaged in answering the special pleading of the Germans and in +writing monographs, appeals for recruits, explanations of why +England is at war. They do not sign what they write. They are, of +course, not paid for what they write. They have their reward in +knowing that to direct public opinion fairly will be as effective in +bringing this war to a close as is sticking bayonets into Uhlans. + +The stage, as well as literature, has found many ways in which it can +serve the army. One theatre is giving all the money taken in at the +door to the Red Cross; all of them admit men in uniform free, or at +half price, and a long list of actors have gone to the front. Among +them are several who are well known in America. Robert Lorraine has +received an officer's commission in the Royal Flying Corps, and Guy +Standing in the navy. The former is reported among the wounded. +Gerald du Maurier has organized a reserve battalion of actors, artists, +and musicians. + +There is not a day passes that the most prominent members of the +theatrical world are not giving their services free to benefit +performances in aid of Belgian refugees, Red Cross societies, or to +some one of the funds under royal patronage. Whether their talent is +to act or dance, they are using it to help along the army. Seymour +Hicks and Edward Knoblauch in one week wrote a play called +"England Expects," which was an appeal in dramatic form for recruits, +and each night the play was produced recruits crowded over the +footlights. + +The old sergeants are needed to drill the new material and cannot be +spared for recruiting. And so members of Parliament and members of +the cabinet travel all over the United Kingdom--and certainly these +days it is united--on that service. Even the prime minister and the first +lord of the admiralty, Winston Churchill, work overtime in addressing +public meetings and making stirring appeals to the young men. And +wherever you go you see the young men by the thousands marching, +drilling, going through setting-up exercises. The public parks, golf- +links, even private parks like Bedford Square, are filled with them, and +in Green Park, facing the long beds of geraniums, are lines of cavalry +horses and the khaki tents of the troopers. + +Every one is helping. Each day the King and Queen and Princess +Mary review troops or visit the wounded in some hospital; and the day +before sailing, while passing Buckingham Palace, I watched the +young Prince of Wales change the guard. In a businesslike manner +he was listening to the sentries repeat their orders; and in turn a +young sergeant, also in a most businesslike manner, was in whispers +coaching the boy officer in the proper manner to guard the home of +his royal parents. Since then the young prince has gone to the front +and is fighting for his country. And the King is in France with his +soldiers. + +As the song says, all the heroes do not go to war, and the warriors at +the front are not the only ones this war has turned out-of-doors. The +number of Englishwomen who have left their homes that the Red +Cross may have the use of them for the wounded would fill a long roll +of honor. Some give an entire house, like Mrs. Waldorf Astor, who +has loaned to the wounded Cliveden, one of the best-known and +most beautiful places on the Thames. Others can give only a room. +But all over England the convalescents have been billeted in private +houses and made nobly welcome. + +Even the children of England are helping. The Boy Scouts, one of the +most remarkable developments of this decade, has in this war scored +a triumph of organization. This is equally true of the Boy Scouts in +Belgium and France. In England military duties of the most serious +nature have been intrusted to them. On the east coast they have +taken the place of the coast guards, and all over England they are +patrolling railroad junctions, guarding bridges, and carrying +despatches. Even if the young men who are now drilling in the parks +and the Boy Scouts never reach Berlin nor cross the Channel, the +training and sense of responsibility that they are now enjoying are all +for their future good. + +They are coming out of this war better men, not because they have +been taught the manual of arms, but in spite of that fact. What they +have learned is much more than that. Each of them has, for an ideal, +whether you call it a flag, or a king, or a geographical position on the +map, offered his life, and for that ideal has trained his body and +sacrificed his pleasures, and each of them is the better for it. And +when peace comes his country will be the richer and the more +powerful. + + + + +Chapter VIII +Our Diplomats In The War Zone + + + +When the war broke loose those persons in Europe it concerned the +least were the most upset about it. They were our fellow countrymen. +Even to-day, above the roar of shells, the crash of falling walls, forts, +forests, cathedrals, above the scream of shrapnel, the sobs of +widows and orphans, the cries of the wounded and dying, all over +Europe, you still can hear the shrieks of the Americans calling for their +lost suit-cases. + +For some of the American women caught by the war on the wrong +side of the Atlantic the situation was serious and distressing. There +were thousands of them travelling alone, chaperoned only by a man +from Cook's or a letter of credit. For years they had been saving to +make this trip, and had allowed themselves only sufficient money +after the trip was completed to pay the ship's stewards. Suddenly +they found themselves facing the difficulties of existence in a foreign +land without money, friends, or credit. During the first days of +mobilization they could not realize on their checks or letters. American +bank-notes and Bank of England notes were refused. Save gold, +nothing was of value, and every one who possessed a gold piece, +especially if he happened to be a banker, was clinging to it with the +desperation of a dope fiend clutching his last pill of cocaine. We can +imagine what it was like in Europe when we recall the conditions at +home. + +In New York, when I started for the seat of war, three banks in which +for years I had kept a modest balance refused me a hundred dollars +in gold, or a check, or a letter of credit. They simply put up the +shutters and crawled under the bed. So in Europe, where there +actually was war, the women tourists, with nothing but a worthless +letter of credit between them and sleeping in a park, had every +reason to be panic-stricken. But to explain the hysteria of the hundred +thousand other Americans is difficult--so difficult that while they live +they will still be explaining. The worst that could have happened to +them was temporary discomfort offset by adventures. Of those they +experienced they have not yet ceased boasting. + +On August 5th, one day after England declared war, the American +Government announced that it would send the Tennessee with a +cargo of gold. In Rome and in Paris Thomas Nelson Page and Myron +T. Herrick were assisting every American who applied to them, and +committees of Americans to care for their fellow countrymen had +been organized. All that was asked of the stranded Americans was to +keep cool and, like true sports, suffer inconvenience. Around them +were the French and English, facing the greatest tragedy of centuries, +and meeting it calmly and with noble self-sacrifice. The men were +marching to meet death, and in the streets, shops, and fields the +women were taking up the burden the men had dropped. And in the +Rue Scribe and in Cockspur Street thousands of Americans were +struggling in panic-stricken groups, bewailing the loss of a hat-box, +and protesting at having to return home second-class. Their suffering +was something terrible. In London, in the Ritz and Carlton +restaurants, American refugees, loaded down with fat pearls and +seated at tables loaded with fat food, besought your pity. The imperial +suite, which on the fast German liner was always reserved for them, +"except when Prince Henry was using it," was no longer available, +and they were subjected to the indignity of returning home on a nine- +day boat and in the captain's cabin. It made their blue blood boil; and +the thought that their emigrant ancestors had come over in the +steerage did not help a bit. + +The experiences of Judge Richard William Irwin, of the Superior +Court of Massachusetts, and his party, as related in the Paris Herald, +were heartrending. On leaving Switzerland for France they were +forced to carry their own luggage, all the porters apparently having +selfishly marched off to die for their country, and the train was not +lighted, nor did any one collect their tickets. "We have them yet!" says +Judge Irwin. He makes no complaint, he does not write to the Public- +Service Commission about it, but he states the fact. No one came to +collect his ticket, and he has it yet. Something should be done. Merely +because France is at war Judge Irwin should not be condemned to +go through life clinging to a first-class ticket. + +In another interview Judge George A. Carpenter, of the United States +Court of Chicago, takes a more cheerful view. "I can't see anything +for Americans to get hysterical about," he says. "They seem to think +their little delays and difficulties are more important than all the +troubles of Europe. For my part, I should think these people would be +glad to settle down in Paris." A wise judge! + +For the hysterical Americans it was fortunate that in the embassies +and consulates of the United States there were fellow country-men +who would not allow a war to rattle them. When the representatives of +other countries fled our people not only stayed on the job but held +down the jobs of those who were forced to move away. At no time in +many years have our diplomats and consuls appeared to such +advantage. They deserve so much credit that the administration will +undoubtedly try to borrow it. Mr. Bryan will point with pride and say: +"These men who bore themselves so well were my appointments." +Some of them were. But back of them, and coaching them, were first +and second secretaries and consuls-general and consuls who had +been long in the service and who knew the language, the short cuts, +and what ropes to pull. And they had also the assistance of every lost +and strayed, past and present American diplomat who, when the war +broke, was caught off his base. These were commandeered and put +to work, and volunteers of the American colonies were made +honorary attachés, and without pay toiled like fifteen-dollar-a-week +bookkeepers. + +In our embassy in Paris one of these latter had just finished struggling +with two American women. One would not go home by way of +England because she would not leave her Pomeranian in quarantine, +and the other because she could not carry with her twenty-two trunks. +They demanded to be sent back from Havre on a battle-ship. The +volunteer diplomat bowed. "Then I must refer you to our naval +attaché, on the first floor," he said. "Any tickets for battle-ships must +come through him." + +I suggested he was having a hard time. + +"If we remained in Paris," he said, "we all had to help. It was a choice +between volunteering to aid Mr. Herrick at the embassy or Mrs. +Herrick at the American Ambulance Hospital and tending wounded +Turcos. But between soothing terrified Americans and washing +niggers, I'm sorry now I didn't choose the hospital." + +In Paris there were two embassies running overtime; that means from +early morning until after midnight, and each with a staff enlarged to +six times the usual number. At the residence of Mr. Herrick, in the +Rue François Ier, there was an impromptu staff composed chiefly of +young American bankers, lawyers, and business men. They were +men who inherited, or who earned, incomes of from twenty thousand +to fifty thousand a year, and all day, and every day, without pay, and +certainly without thanks, they assisted their bewildered, penniless, +and homesick fellow countrymen. Below them in the cellar was stored +part of the two million five hundred thousand dollars voted by +Congress to assist the stranded Americans. It was guarded by quick- +firing guns, loaned by the French War Office, and by six petty officers +from the Tennessee. With one of them I had been a shipmate when +the Utah sailed from Vera Cruz. I congratulated him on being in Paris. + +"They say Paris is some city," he assented, "but all I've seen of it is +this courtyard. Don't tell anybody, but, on the level, I'd rather be back +in Vera Cruz!" + +The work of distributing the money was carried on in the chancelleries +of the embassy in the Rue de Chaillot. It was entirely in the hands of +American army and navy officers, twenty of whom came over on the +warship with Assistant Secretary of War Breckinridge. Major Spencer +Cosby, the military attaché of the embassy, was treasurer of the fund, +and every application for aid that had not already been investigated +by the civilian committee appointed by the ambassador was decided +upon by the officers. Mr. Herrick found them invaluable. He was +earnest in their praise. They all wanted to see the fighting; but in other +ways they served their country. + +As a kind of "king's messenger" they were sent to our other +embassies, to the French Government at Bordeaux, and in command +of expeditions to round up and convoy back to Paris stranded +Americans in Germany and Switzerland. Their training, their habit of +command and of thinking for others, their military titles helped them to +success. By the French they were given a free road, and they were +not only of great assistance to others, but what they saw of the war +and of the French army will be of lasting benefit to themselves. +Among them were officers of every branch of the army and navy and +of the marine and aviation corps. Their reports to the War +Department, if ever they are made public, will be mighty interesting +reading. + +The regular staff of the embassy was occupied not only with +Americans but with English, Germans, and Austrians. These latter +stood in a long line outside the embassy, herded by gendarmes. That +line never seemed to grow less. Myron T. Herrick, our ambassador, +was at the embassy from early in the morning until midnight. He was +always smiling, helpful, tactful, optimistic. Before the war came he +was already popular, and the manner in which he met the dark days, +when the Germans were within fifteen miles of Paris, made him +thousands of friends. He never asked any of his staff to work harder +than he worked himself, and he never knocked off and called it a +day's job before they did. Nothing seemed to worry or daunt him; +neither the departure of the other diplomats, when the government +moved to Bordeaux and he was left alone, nor the advancing +Germans and threatened siege of Paris, nor even falling bombs. + +Herrick was as democratic as he was efficient. For his exclusive use +there was a magnificent audience-chamber, full of tapestry, ormolu +brass, Sèvres china, and sunshine. But of its grandeur the +ambassador would grow weary, and every quarter-hour he would +come out into the hall crowded with waiting English and Americans. +There, assisted by M. Charles, who is as invaluable to our +ambassadors to France as are Frank and Edward Hodson to our +ambassadors to London, he would hold an impromptu reception. It +was interesting to watch the ex-governor of Ohio clear that hall and +send everybody away smiling. Having talked to his ambassador +instead of to a secretary, each went off content. In the hall one +morning I found a noble lord of high degree chuckling with pleasure. + +"This is the difference between your ambassadors and ours," he said. +"An English ambassador won't let you in to see him; your American +ambassador comes out to see you." However true that may be, it was +extremely fortunate that when war came we should have had a man +at the storm-centre so admirably efficient. + +Our embassy was not embarrassed nor was it greatly helped by the +presence in Paris of two other American ambassadors: Mr. Sharp, +the ambassador-elect, and Mr. Robert Bacon, the ambassador that +was. That at such a crisis these gentlemen should have chosen to +come to Paris and remain there showed that for an ambassador tact +is not absolutely necessary. + +Mr. Herrick was exceedingly fortunate in his secretaries, Robert +Woods Bliss and Arthur H. Frazier. Their training in the diplomatic +service made them most valuable. With him, also, as a volunteer +counsellor, was H. Perceval Dodge, who, after serving in diplomatic +posts in six countries, was thrown out of the service by Mr. Bryan to +make room for a lawyer from Danville, Ky. Dodge was sent over to +assist in distributing the money voted by Congress, and Herrick, +knowing his record, signed him on to help him in the difficult task of +running the affairs of the embassies of four countries, three of which +were at war. Dodge, Bliss, and Frazier were able to care for these +embassies because, though young in years, in the diplomatic service +they have had training and experience. In this crisis they proved the +need of it. For the duties they were, and still are, called upon to +perform it is not enough that a man should have edited a democratic +newspaper or stumped the State for Bryan. A knowledge of +languages, of foreign countries, and of foreigners, their likes and their +prejudices, good manners, tact, and training may not, in the eyes of +the administration, seem necessary, but, in helping the ninety million +people in whose interest the diplomat is sent abroad, these +qualifications are not insignificant. + +One might say that Brand Whitlock, who is so splendidly holding the +fort at Brussels, in the very centre of the conflict, is not a trained +diplomat. But he started with an excellent knowledge of the French +language, and during the eight years in which he was mayor of +Toledo he must have learned something of diplomacy, responsibility, +and of the way to handle men--even German military governors. He +is, in fact, the right man in the right place. In Belgium all men, +Belgians, Americans, Germans, speak well of him. In one night he +shipped out of Brussels, in safety and comfort, five thousand +Germans; and when the German army advanced upon that city it was +largely due to him and to the Spanish minister, the Marquis Villalobar, +that Brussels did not meet the fate of Antwerp. He has a direct way of +going at things. One day, while the Belgian Government still was in +Brussels and Whitlock in charge of the German legation, the chief +justice called upon him. It was suspected, he said, that on the roof of +the German legation, concealed in the chimney, was a wireless outfit. +He came to suggest that the American minister, representing the +German interests, and the chief justice should appoint a joint +commission to investigate the truth of the rumor, to take the +testimony of witnesses, and make a report. + +"Wouldn't it be quicker," said Whitlock, "if you and I went up on the +roof and looked down the chimney?" + +The chief justice was surprised but delighted. Together they +clambered over the roof of the German legation. They found that the +wireless outfit was a rusty weather-vane that creaked. + +When the government moved to Antwerp Whitlock asked permission +to remain at the capital. He believed that in Brussels he could be of +greater service to both Americans and Belgians. And while diplomatic +corps moved from Antwerp to Ostend, and from Ostend to Havre, he +and Villalobar stuck to their posts. What followed showed Whitlock +was right. To-day from Brussels he is directing the efforts of the rest +of the world to save the people of that city and of Belgium from death +by starvation. In this he has the help of his wife, who was Miss Ella +Brainerd, of Springfield, 111, M. Gaston de Levai, a Belgian +gentleman, and Miss Caroline S. Larner, who was formerly a +secretary in the State Department, and who, when the war started, +was on a vacation in Belgium. She applied to Whitlock to aid her to +return home; instead, much to her delight, he made her one of the +legation staff. His right-hand man is Hugh C. Gibson, his first +secretary, a diplomat of experience. It is a pity that to the legation in +Brussels no military attaché was accredited. He need not have gone +out to see the war; the war would have come to him. As it was, +Gibson saw more of actual warfare than did any or all of our twenty- +eight military men in Paris. It was his duty to pass frequently through +the firing-lines on his way to Antwerp and London. He was constantly +under fire. Three times his automobile was hit by bullets. These trips +were so hazardous that Whitlock urged that he should take them. It is +said he and his secretary used to toss for it. Gibson told me he was +disturbed by the signs the Germans placed between Brussels and +Antwerp, stating that "automobiles looking as though they were on +reconnoissance" would be fired upon. He asked how an automobile +looked when it was on reconnoissance. + +Gibson is one of the few men who, after years in the diplomatic +service, refuses to take himself seriously. He is always smiling, +cheerful, always amusing, but when the dignity of his official position +is threatened he can be serious enough. When he was chargé +d'affaires in Havana a young Cuban journalist assaulted him. That +journalist is still in jail. In Brussels a German officer tried to +blue-pencil a cable Gibson was sending to the State Department. +Those who witnessed the incident say it was like a buzz-saw +cutting soft pine. + +When the present administration turned out the diplomats it spared +the consuls-general and consuls. It was fortunate for the State +Department that it showed this self-control, and fortunate for +thousands of Americans who, when the war-cloud burst, were +scattered all over Europe. Our consuls rose to the crisis and rounded +them up, supplied them with funds, special trains, and letters of +identification, and when they were arrested rescued them from jail. +Under fire from shells and during days of bombardment the American +consuls in France and Belgium remained at their posts and protected +the people of many nationalities confided to their care. Only one +showed the white feather. He first removed himself from his post, and +then was removed still farther from it by the State Department. All the +other American consuls of whom I heard in Belgium, France, and +England were covering themselves with glory and bringing credit to +their country. Nothing disturbed their calm, and at no hour could you +catch them idle or reluctant to help a fellow countryman. Their office +hours were from twelve to twelve, and each consulate had taken out +an all-night license and thrown away the key. With four other +Americans I was forced to rout one consul out of bed at two in the +morning. He was Colonel Albert W. Swalm, of Iowa, but of late years +our representative at Southampton. That port was in the military zone, +and before an American could leave it for Havre it was necessary that +his passport should be viséed in London by the French and Belgian +consuls-general and in Southampton by Colonel Swalm. We arrived +in Southampton at two in the morning to learn that the boat left at +four, and that unless, in the interval, we obtained the autograph and +seal of Colonel Swalm she would sail without us. + +In the darkness we set forth to seek our consul, and we found that, +difficult as it was to leave the docks by sea, it was just as difficult by +land. In war time two o'clock in the morning is no hour for honest men +to prowl around wharfs. So we were given to understand by very +wide-awake sentries with bayonets, policemen, and enthusiastic +special constables. But at last we reached the consulate and laid +siege. One man pressed the electric button, kicked the door, and +pounded with the knocker, others hurled pebbles at the upper +windows, and the fifth stood in the road and sang: "Oh, say, can you +see, by the dawn's early light?" + +A policeman arrested us for throwing stones at the consular sign. We +explained that we had hit the sign by accident while aiming at the +windows, and that in any case it was the inalienable right of +Americans, if they felt like it, to stone their consul's sign. He said he +always had understood we were a free people, but, "without meaning +any disrespect to you, sir, throwing stones at your consul's coat of +arms is almost, as you might say, sir, making too free." He then told +us Colonel Swalm lived in the suburbs, and in a taxicab started us +toward him. + +Scantily but decorously clad, Colonel Swalm received us, and +greeted us as courteously as though we had come to present him +with a loving-cup. He acted as though our pulling him out of bed at +two in the morning was intended as a compliment. For affixing the +seal to our passports he refused any fee. We protested that the +consuls-general of other nations were demanding fees. "I know," he +said, "but I have never thought it right to fine a man for being an +American." + +Of our ambassadors and representatives in countries in Europe other +than France and Belgium I have not written, because during this war I +have not visited those countries. But of them, also, all men speak +well. At the last election one of them was a candidate for the United +States Senate. He was not elected. The reason is obvious. + +Our people at home are so well pleased with their ambassadors in +Europe that, while the war continues, they would keep them where +they are. + + + + +Chapter IX +"Under Fire" + + + +One cold day on the Aisne, when the Germans had just withdrawn to +the east bank and the Allies held the west, the French soldiers built +huge bonfires and huddled around them. When the "Jack Johnsons," +as they call the six-inch howitzer shells that strike with a burst of black +smoke, began to fall, sooner than leave the warm fires the soldiers +accepted the chance of being hit by the shells. Their officers had to +order them back. I saw this and wrote of it. A friend refused to credit +it. He said it was against his experience. He did not believe that, for +the sake of keeping warm, men would chance being killed. + +But the incident was quite characteristic. In times of war you +constantly see men, and women, too, who, sooner than suffer +discomfort or even inconvenience, risk death. The psychology of the +thing is, I think, that a man knows very little about being dead but has +a very acute knowledge of what it is to be uncomfortable. His brain is +not able to grasp death but it is quite capable of informing him that his +fingers are cold. Often men receive credit for showing coolness and +courage in times of danger when, in reality, they are not properly +aware of the danger and through habit are acting automatically. The +girl in Chicago who went back into the Iroquois Theatre fire to rescue +her rubber overshoes was not a heroine. She merely lacked +imagination. Her mind was capable of appreciating how serious for +her would be the loss of her overshoes but not being burned alive. At +the battle of Velestinos, in the Greek-Turkish War, John F. Bass, of +The Chicago Daily News, and myself got into a trench at the foot of a +hill on which later the Greeks placed a battery. All day the Turks +bombarded this battery with a cross-fire of shrapnel and rifle-bullets +which did not touch our trench but cut off our return to Velestinos. +Sooner than pass through this crossfire, all day we crouched in the +trench until about sunset, when it came on to rain. We exclaimed with +dismay. We had neglected to bring our ponchos. "If we don't get back +to the village at once," we assured each other, "we will get wet!" So +we raced through half a mile of falling shells and bullets and, before +the rain fell, got under cover. Then Bass said: "For twelve hours we +stuck to that trench because we were afraid if we left it we would be +killed. And the only reason we ever did leave it was because we were +more afraid of catching cold!" + +In the same war I was in a trench with some infantrymen, one of +whom never raised his head. Whenever he was ordered to fire he +would shove his rifle-barrel over the edge of the trench, shut his eyes, +and pull the trigger. He took no chances. His comrades laughed at +him and swore at him, but he would only grin sheepishly and burrow +deeper. After several hours a friend in another trench held up a bag +of tobacco and some cigarette-papers and in pantomime "dared" him +to come for them. To the intense surprise of every one he scrambled +out of our trench and, exposed against the sky-line, walked to the +other trench and, while he rolled a handful of cigarettes, drew the fire +of the enemy. It was not that he was brave; he had shown that he +was not. He was merely stupid. Between death and cigarettes, his +mind could not rise above cigarettes. + +Why the same kind of people are so differently affected by danger is +very hard to understand. It is almost impossible to get a line on it. I +was in the city of Rheims for three days and two nights while it was +being bombarded. During that time fifty thousand people remained in +the city and, so far as the shells permitted, continued about their +business. The other fifty thousand fled from the city and camped out +along the road to Paris. For five miles outside Rheims they lined both +edges of that road like people waiting for a circus parade. With them +they brought rugs, blankets, and loaves of bread, and from daybreak +until night fell and the shells ceased to fall they sat in the hay-fields +and along the grass gutters of the road. Some of them were most +intelligent-looking and had the manner and clothes of the rich. There +was one family of five that on four different occasions on our way to +and from Paris we saw seated on the ground at a place certainly five +miles away from any spot where a shell had fallen. They were all in +deep mourning, but as they sat in the hay-field around a wicker tea +basket and wrapped in steamer-rugs they were comic. Their lives +were no more valuable than those of thousands of their fellow +townsfolk who in Rheims were carrying on the daily routine. These +kept the shops open or in the streets were assisting the Red Cross. + +One elderly gentleman told me how he had been seized by the +Germans as a hostage and threatened with death by hanging. With +forty other first citizens, from the 4th to the 12th of September he had +been in jail. After such an experience one would have thought that +between himself and the Germans he would have placed as many +miles as possible, but instead he was strolling around the Place du +Parvis Notre-Dame, in front of the cathedral. For the French officers +who, on sightseeing bent, were motoring into Rheims from the battle +line he was acting as a sort of guide. Pointing with his umbrella, he +would say: "On the left is the new Palace of Justice, the façade +entirely destroyed; on the right you see the palace of the archbishop, +completely wrecked. The shells that just passed over us have +apparently fallen in the garden of the Hôtel Lion d'Or." He was as cool +as the conductor on a "Seeing Rheims" observation-car. + +He was matched in coolness by our consul, William Bardel. The +American consulate is at No. 14 Rue Kellermann. That morning a +shell had hit the chestnut-tree in the garden of his neighbor, at No. +12, and had knocked all the chestnuts into the garden of the +consulate. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Mr. Bardel. + +In the bombarded city there was no rule as to how any one would act. +One house would be closed and barred, and the inmates would be +either in their own cellar or in the caves of the nearest champagne +company. To those latter they would bring books or playing-cards +and, among millions of dust-covered bottles, by candle-light, would +wait for the guns to cease. Their neighbors sat in their shops or stood +at the doors of their houses or paraded the streets. Past them their +friends were hastening, trembling with terror. Many women sat on the +front steps, knitting, and with interested eyes watched their +acquaintances fleeing toward the Paris gate. When overhead a shell +passed they would stroll, still knitting, out into the middle of the street +to see where the shell struck. + +By the noise it was quite easy to follow the flight of the shells. You +were tricked by the sound into almost believing you could see them. +The six-inch shells passed with a whistling roar that was quite +terrifying. It was as though just above you invisible telegraph-wires +had jangled, and their rush through the air was like the roar that rises +to the car window when two express-trains going in opposite +directions pass at sixty miles an hour. When these sounds assailed +them the people flying from the city would scream. Some of them, as +though they had been hit, would fall on their knees. Others were +sobbing and praying aloud. The tears rolled down their cheeks. In +their terror there was nothing ludicrous; they were in as great physical +pain as were some of the hundreds in Rheims who had been hit. And +yet others of their fellow townsmen living in the same street, and with +the same allotment of brains and nerves, were treating the +bombardment with the indifference they would show to a summer +shower. + +We had not expected to spend the night in Rheims, so, with +Ashmead Bartlett, the military expert of the London Daily Telegraph, I +went into a chemist's shop to buy some soap. The chemist, seeing I +was an American, became very much excited. He was overstocked +with an American shaving-soap, and he begged me to take it off his +hands. He would let me have it at what it cost him. He did not know +where he had placed it, and he was in great alarm lest we would +leave his shop before he could unload it on us. From both sides of +the town French artillery were firing in salvoes, the shocks shaking +the air; over the shop of the chemist shrapnel was whining, and in the +street the howitzer shells were opening up subways. But his mind +was intent only on finding that American shaving-soap. I was anxious +to get on to a more peaceful neighborhood. To French soap, to soap +"made in Germany," to neutral American soap I was indifferent. Had it +not been for the presence of Ashmead Bartlett I would have fled. To +die, even though clasping a cake of American soap, seemed less +attractive than to live unwashed. But the chemist had no time to +consider shells. He was intent only on getting rid of surplus stock. + +The majority of people who are afraid are those who refuse to +consider the doctrine of chances. The chances of their being hit may +be one in ten thousand, but they disregard the odds in their favor and +fix their minds on that one chance against them. In their imagination it +grows larger and larger. It looms red and bloodshot, it hovers over +them; wherever they go it follows, menacing, threatening, filling them +with terror. In Rheims there were one hundred thousand people, and +by shells one thousand were killed or wounded. The chances against +were a hundred to one. Those who left the city undoubtedly thought +the odds were not good enough. + +Those who on account of the bombs that fell from the German +aeroplanes into Paris left that city had no such excuse. The chance of +any one person being hit by a bomb was one in several millions. But +even with such generous odds in their favor, during the days the +bomb-dropping lasted many thousands fled. They were obsessed by +that one chance against them. In my hotel in Paris my landlady had +her mind fixed on that one chance, and regularly every afternoon +when the aeroplanes were expected she would go to bed. Just as +regularly her husband would take a pair of opera-glasses and in the +Rue de la Paix hopefully scan the sky. + +One afternoon while we waited in front of Cook's an aeroplane sailed +overhead, but so far above us that no one knew whether it was a +French air-ship scouting or a German one preparing to launch a +bomb. A man from Cook's, one of the interpreters, with a horrible +knowledge of English, said: "Taube or not Taube; that is the +question." He was told he was inviting a worse death than from a +bomb. To illustrate the attitude of mind of the Parisian, there is the +story of the street gamin who for some time, from the Garden of the +Tuileries, had been watching a German aeroplane threatening the +city. Finally, he exclaimed impatiently: + +"Oh, throw your bomb! You are keeping me from my dinner." + +A soldier under fire furnishes few of the surprises of conduct to which +the civilian treats you. The soldier has no choice. He is tied by the leg, +and whether the chances are even or ridiculously in his favor he must +accept them. The civilian can always say, "This is no place for me," +and get up and walk away. But the soldier cannot say that. He and +his officers, the Red Cross nurses, doctors, ambulance-bearers, and +even the correspondents have taken some kind of oath or signed +some kind of contract that makes it easier for them than for the +civilian to stay on the job. For them to go away would require more +courage than to remain. + +Indeed, although courage is so highly regarded, it seems to be of all +virtues the most common. In six wars, among men of nearly every +race, color, religion, and training, I have seen but four men who failed +to show courage. I have seen men who were scared, sometimes +whole regiments, but they still fought on; and that is the highest +courage, for they were fighting both a real enemy and an imaginary +one. + +There is a story of a certain politician general of our army who, under +a brisk fire, turned on one of his staff and cried: + +"Why, major, you are scared, sir; you are scared!" + +"I am," said the major, with his teeth chattering, "and if you were as +scared as I am you'd be twenty miles in the rear." + +In this war the onslaughts have been so terrific and so unceasing, the +artillery fire especially has been so entirely beyond human +experience, that the men fight in a kind of daze. Instead of arousing +fear the tumult acts as an anaesthetic. With forests uprooted, houses +smashing about them, and unseen express-trains hurtling through +space, they are too stunned to be afraid. And in time they become +fed up on battles and to the noise and danger grow callous. On the +Aisne I saw an artillery battle that stretched for fifteen miles. Both +banks of the river were wrapped in smoke; from the shells villages +miles away were in flames, and two hundred yards in front of us the +howitzer shells were bursting in black fumes. To this the French +soldiers were completely indifferent. The hills they occupied had been +held that morning by the Germans, and the trenches and fields were +strewn with their accoutrement. So all the French soldiers who were +not serving the guns wandered about seeking souvenirs. They had +never a glance for the villages burning crimson in the bright sunight or +for the falling "Jack Johnsons." + +They were intent only on finding a spiked helmet, and when they +came upon one they would give a shout of triumph and hold it up for +their comrades to see. And their comrades would laugh delightedly +and race toward them, stumbling over the furrows. They were as +happy and eager as children picking wild flowers. + +It is not good for troops to sup entirely on horrors and also to +breakfast and lunch on them. So after in the trenches one regiment +has been pounded it is withdrawn for a day or two and kept in +reserve. The English Tommies spend this period of recuperating in +playing football and cards. When the English learned this they +forwarded so many thousands of packs of cards to the distributing +depot that the War Office had to request them not to send any more. +When the English officers are granted leave of absence they do not +waste their energy on football, but motor into Paris for a bath and +lunch. At eight they leave the trenches along the Aisne and by noon +arrive at Maxim's, Voisin's, or La Rue's. Seldom does warfare present +a sharper contrast. From a breakfast of "bully" beef, eaten from a tin +plate, with in their nostrils the smell of camp-fires, dead horses, and +unwashed bodies, they find themselves seated on red velvet +cushions, surrounded by mirrors and walls of white and gold, and +spread before them the most immaculate silver, linen, and glass. And +the odors that assail them are those of truffles, white wine, and +"artechant sauce mousseline." + +It is a delight to hear them talk. The point of view of the English is so +sane and fair. In risking their legs or arms, or life itself, they see +nothing heroic, dramatic, or extraordinary. They talk of the war as +they would of a cricket-match or a day in the hunting-field. If things +are going wrong they do not whine or blame, nor when fortune smiles +are they unduly jubilant. And they are so appallingly honest and frank. +A piece of shrapnel had broken the arm of one of them, and we were +helping him to cut up his food and pour out his Scotch and soda. +Instead of making a hero or a martyr of himself, he said confidingly: +"You know, I had no right to be hit. If I had been minding my own +business I wouldn't have been hit. But Jimmie was having a hell of a +time on top of a hill, and I just ran up to have a look in. And the +beggars got me. Served me jolly well right. What?" + +I met one subaltern at La Rue's who had been given so many +commissions by his brother officers to bring back tobacco, soap, and +underclothes that all his money save five francs was gone. He still +had two days' leave of absence, and, as he truly pointed out, in Paris +even in war time five francs will not carry you far. I offered to be his +banker, but he said he would first try elsewhere. The next day I met +him on the boulevards and asked what kind of a riotous existence he +found possible on five francs. + +"I've had the most extraordinary luck," he said. "After I left you I met +my brother. He was just in from the front, and I got all his money." + +"Won't your brother need it?" I asked. + +"Not at all," said the subaltern cheerfully. "He's shot in the legs, and +they've put him to bed. Rotten luck for him, you might say, but how +lucky for me!" + +Had he been the brother who was shot in both legs he would have +treated the matter just as light-heartedly. + +One English major, before he reached his own firing-line, was hit by a +bursting shell in three places. While he was lying in the American +ambulance hospital at Neuilly the doctor said to him: + +"This cot next to yours is the only one vacant. Would you object if we +put a German in it?" + +"By no means," said the major; "I haven't seen one yet." + +The stories the English officers told us at La Rue's and Maxim's by +contrast with the surroundings were all the more grewsome. Seeing +them there it did not seem possible that in a few hours these same fit, +sun-tanned youths in khaki would be back in the trenches, or +scouting in advance of them, or that only the day before they had +been dodging death and destroying their fellow men. + +Maxim's, which now reminds one only of the last act of "The Merry +Widow," was the meeting-place for the French and English officers +from the front; the American military attachés from our embassy, +among whom were soldiers, sailors, aviators, marines; the doctors +and volunteer nurses from the American ambulance, and the +correspondents who by night dined in Paris and by day dodged arrest +and other things on the firing-line, or as near it as they could motor +without going to jail. For these Maxim's was the clearing-house for +news of friends and battles. Where once were the supper-girls and +the ladies of the gold-mesh vanity-bags now were only men in red +and blue uniforms, men in khaki, men in bandages. Among them +were English lords and French princes with titles that dated from +Agincourt to Waterloo, where their ancestors had met as enemies. +Now those who had succeeded them, as allies, were, over a sole +Marguery, discussing air-ships, armored automobiles, and +mitrailleuses. + +At one table Arthur H. Frazier, of the American embassy, would be +telling an English officer that a captain of his regiment who was +supposed to have been killed at Courtrai had, like a homing pigeon, +found his way to the hospital at Neuilly and wanted to be reported +"safe" at Lloyds. At another table a French lieutenant would describe +a raid made by the son of an American banker in Paris who is in +command of an armed automobile. "He swept his gun only once--so," +the Frenchman explained, waving his arm across the champagne +and the broiled lobster, "and he caught a general and two staff- +officers. He cut them in half." Or at another table you would listen to a +group of English officers talking in wonder of the Germans' wasteful +advance in solid formation. + +"They were piled so high," one of them relates, "that I stopped firing. +They looked like gray worms squirming about in a bait-box. I can +shoot men coming at me on their feet, but not a mess of arms and +legs." + +"I know," assents another; "when we charged the other day we had to +advance over the Germans that fell the night before, and my men +were slipping and stumbling all over the place. The bodies didn't give +them any foothold." + +"My sergeant yesterday," another relates, "turned to me and said: 'It +isn't cricket. There's no game in shooting into a target as big as that. +It's just murder.' I had to order him to continue firing." + +They tell of it without pose or emotion. It is all in the day's work. Most +of them are young men of wealth, of ancient family, cleanly bred +gentlemen of England, and as they nod and leave the restaurant we +know that in three hours, wrapped in a greatcoat, each will be +sleeping in the earth trenches, and that the next morning the shells +will wake him. + + + + +Chapter X +The Waste of War + + + +In this war, more than in other campaigns, the wastefulness is +apparent. In other wars, what to the man at home was most +distressing was the destruction of life. He measured the importance +of the conflict by the daily lists of killed and wounded. But in those +wars, except human life, there was little else to destroy. The war in +South Africa was fought among hills of stone, across vacant stretches +of prairie. Not even trees were destroyed, because there were no +trees. In the district over which the armies passed there were not +enough trees to supply the men with fire-wood. In Manchuria, with the +Japanese, we marched for miles without seeing even a mud village, +and the approaches to Port Arthur were as desolate as our Black +Hills. The Italian-Turkish War was fought in the sands of a desert, and +in the Balkan War few had heard of the cities bombarded until they +read they were in flames. But this war is being waged in that part of +the world best known to the rest of the world. + +Every summer hundreds of thousands of Americans, on business or +on pleasure bent, travelled to the places that now daily are being +taken or retaken or are in ruins. At school they had read of these +places in their history books and later had visited them. In +consequence, in this war they have a personal and an intelligent +interest. It is as though of what is being destroyed they were part +owners. + +Toward Europe they are as absentee landlords. It was their pleasure- +ground and their market. And now that it is being laid low the utter +wastefulness of war is brought closer to this generation than ever +before. Loss of life in war has not been considered entirely wasted, +because the self-sacrifice involved ennobled it. And the men who +went out to war knew what they might lose. Neither when, in the +pursuits of peace, human life is sacrificed is it counted as wasted. +The pioneers who were killed by the Indians or who starved to death +in what then were deserts helped to carry civilization from the Atlantic +to the Pacific. Only ten years ago men were killed in learning to +control the "horseless wagons," and now sixty-horsepower cars are +driven by women and young girls. Later the air-ship took its toll of +human life. Nor, in view of the possibilities of the air-ships in the +future, can it be said those lives were wasted. But, except life, there +was no other waste. To perfect the automobile and the air-ship no +women were driven from home and the homes destroyed. No +churches were bombarded. Men in this country who after many years +had built up a trade in Europe were not forced to close their mills and +turn into the streets hundreds of working men and women. + +It is in the by-products of the war that the waste, cruelty, and stupidity +of war are most apparent. It is the most innocent who suffer and +those who have the least offended who are the most severely +punished. The German Emperor wanted a place in the sun, and, +having decided that the right moment to seize it had arrived, declared +war. As a direct result, Mary Kelly, a telephone girl at the Wistaria +Hotel, in New York, is looking for work. It sounds like an O. Henry +story, but, except for the name of the girl and the hotel, it is not +fiction. She told me about it one day on my return to New York, +on Broadway. + +"I'm looking for work," she said, "and I thought if you remembered me +you might give me a reference. I used to work at Sherry's and at the +Wistaria Hotel. But I lost my job through the war." How the war in +Europe could strike at a telephone girl in New York was puzzling; but +Mary Kelly made it clear. "The Wistaria is very popular with +Southerners," she explained, "They make their money in cotton and +blow it in New York. But now they can't sell their cotton, and so they +have no money, and so they can't come to New York. And the hotel +is run at a loss, and the proprietor discharged me and the other girl, +and the bellboys are tending the switchboard. I've been a month +trying to get work. But everybody gives me the same answer. They're +cutting down the staff on account of the war. I've walked thirty miles a +day looking for a job, and I'm nearly all in. How long do you think this +war will last?" This telephone girl looking for work is a tiny by-product +of war. She is only one instance of efficiency gone to waste. + +The reader can think of a hundred other instances. In his own life he +can show where in his pleasures, his business, in his plans for the +future the war has struck at him and has caused him inconvenience, +loss, or suffering. He can then appreciate how much greater are the +loss and suffering to those who live within the zone of fire. In Belgium +and France the vacant spaces are very few, and the shells fall among +cities and villages lying so close together that they seem to touch +hands. For hundreds of years the land has been cultivated, the fields, +gardens, orchards tilled and lovingly cared for. The roads date back +to the days of Caesar. The stone farmhouses, as well as the stone +churches, were built to endure. And for centuries, until this war came, +they had endured. After the battle of Waterloo some of these stone +farmhouses found themselves famous. In them Napoleon or +Wellington had spread his maps or set up his cot, and until this war +the farmhouses of Mont-Saint-Jean, of Caillou, of Haie-Sainte, of the +Belle-Alliance remained as they were on the day of the great battle a +hundred years ago. They have received no special care, the +elements have not spared them nor caretakers guarded them. They +still were used as dwellings, and it was only when you recognized +them by having seen them on the post-cards that you distinguished +them from thousands of other houses, just as old and just as well +preserved, that stretched from Brussels to Liege. + +But a hundred years after this war those other houses will not be +shown on picture post-cards. King Albert and his staff may have +spent the night in them, but the next day Von Kluck and his army +passed, and those houses that had stood for three hundred years +were destroyed. In the papers you have seen many pictures of the +shattered roofs and the streets piled high with fallen walls and lined +with gaping cellars over which once houses stood. The walls can be +rebuilt, but what was wasted and which cannot be rebuilt are the +labor, the saving, the sacrifices that made those houses not mere +walls but homes. A house may be built in a year or rented overnight; it +takes longer than that to make it a home. The farmers and peasants +in Belgium had spent many hours of many days in keeping their +homes beautiful, in making their farms self-supporting. After the work +of the day was finished they had planted gardens, had reared fruit- +trees, built arbors; under them at mealtime they sat surrounded by +those of their own household. To buy the horse and the cow they had +pinched and saved; to make the gardens beautiful and the fields +fertile they had sweated and slaved, the women as well as the men; +even the watch-dog by day was a beast of burden. + +When, in August, I reached Belgium between Brussels and Liege, the +whole countryside showed the labor of these peasants. Unlike the +American farmer, they were too poor to buy machines to work for +them, and with scythes and sickles in hand they cut the grain; with +heavy flails they beat it. All that you saw on either side of the road that +was fertile and beautiful was the result of their hard, unceasing +personal effort. Then the war came, like a cyclone, and in three +weeks the labor of many years was wasted. The fields were torn with +shells, the grain was in flames, torches destroyed the villages, by the +roadside were the carcasses of the cows that had been killed to feed +the invader, and the horses were carried off harnessed to gray gun- +carriages. These were the things you saw on every side, from +Brussels to the German border. The peasants themselves were +huddled beneath bridges. They were like vast camps of gypsies, +except that, less fortunate than the gypsy, they had lost what he +neither possesses nor desires, a home. As the enemy advanced the +inhabitants of one village would fly for shelter to the next, only by the +shells to be whipped farther forward; and so, each hour growing in +number, the refugees fled toward Brussels and the coast. They were +an army of tramps, of women and children tramps, sleeping in the +open fields, beneath the hayricks seeking shelter from the rain, living +on the raw turnips and carrots they had plucked from the deserted +vegetable gardens. The peasants were not the only ones who +suffered. The rich and the noble-born were as unhappy and as +homeless. They had credit, and in the banks they had money, but +they could not get at the money; and when a château and a +farmhouse are in flames, between them there is little choice. + +Three hours after midnight on the day the Germans began their three +days' march through Brussels I had crossed the Square Rogier to +send a despatch by one of the many last trains for Ostend. When I +returned to the Palace Hotel, seated on the iron chairs on the +sidewalk were a woman, her three children, and two maid servants. +The woman was in mourning, which was quite new, for, though the +war was only a month old, many had been killed, among them her +husband. The day before, at Tirlemont, shells had destroyed her +château, and she was on her way to England. She had around her +neck two long strings of pearls, the maids each held a small hand- +bag, her boy clasped in his arms a forlorn and sleepy fox-terrier, and +each of the little girls was embracing a bird-cage. In one was a +canary, in the other a parrot. That was all they had saved. In their way +they were just as pathetic as the peasants sleeping under the +hedges. They were just as homeless, friendless, just as much in +need of food and sleep, and in their eyes was the same look of fear +and horror. Bernhardi tells his countrymen that war is glorious, heroic, +and for a nation an economic necessity. Instead, it is stupid, +unintelligent. It creates nothing; it only wastes. + +If it confined itself to destroying forts and cradles of barbed wire then +it would be sufficiently hideous. But it strikes blindly, brutally; it +tramples on the innocent and the beautiful. It is the bull in the china +shop and the mad dog who snaps at children who are trying only +to avoid him. People were incensed at the destruction in Louvain +of the library, the Catholic college, the Church of St. Pierre that dated +from the thirteenth century. These buildings belonged to the world, +and over their loss the world was rightfully indignant, but in Louvain +there were also shops and manufactories, hotels and private houses. +Each belonged, not to the world, but to one family. These individual +families made up a city of forty-five thousand people. In two days +there was not a roof left to cover one of them. The trade those people +had built up had been destroyed, the "good-will and fixings," the +stock on the shelves and in the storerooms, the goods in the +shop-windows, the portraits in the drawing-room, the souvenirs and +family heirlooms, the love-letters, the bride's veil, the baby's first +worsted shoes, and the will by which some one bequeathed to his +beloved wife all his worldly goods. + +War came and sent all these possessions, including the will and the +worldly goods, up into the air in flames. Most of the people of Louvain +made their living by manufacturing church ornaments and brewing +beer. War was impartial, and destroyed both the beer and the church +ornaments. It destroyed also the men who made them, and it drove +the women and children into concentration camps. When first I visited +Louvain it was a brisk, clean, prosperous city. The streets were +spotless, the shop-windows and cafés were modern, rich-looking, +inviting, and her great churches and Hôtel de Ville gave to the city +grace and dignity. Ten days later, when I again saw it, Louvain was in +darkness, lit only by burning buildings. Rows and rows of streets were +lined with black, empty walls. Louvain was a city of the past, another +Pompeii, and her citizens were being led out to be shot. The fate of +Louvain was the fate of Vise, of Malines, of Tirlemont, of Liege, of +hundreds of villages and towns, and by the time this is printed it will +be the fate of hundreds of other towns over all of Europe. In this war +the waste of horses is appalling. Those that first entered Brussels with +the German army had been bred and trained for the purposes of war, +and they were magnificent specimens. Every one who saw them +exclaimed ungrudgingly in admiration. But by the time the army +reached the approaches of Paris the forced marches had so depleted +the stock of horses that for remounts the Germans were seizing all +they met. Those that could not keep up were shot. For miles along +the road from Meaux to Soissons and Rheims their bodies tainted the +air. + +They had served their purposes, and after six weeks of campaigning +the same animals that in times of peace would have proved faithful +servants for many years were destroyed that they might not fall into +the hands of the French. Just as an artillery-man spikes his gun, the +Germans on their retreat to the Aisne River left in their wake no horse +that might assist in their pursuit. As they withdrew they searched each +stable yard and killed the horses. In village after village I saw horses +lying in the stalls or in the fields still wearing the harness of the +plough, or in groups of three or four in the yard of a barn, each with a +bullet-hole in its temple. They were killed for fear they might be useful. + +Waste can go no further. Another example of waste were the motor- +trucks and automobiles. When the war began the motor-trucks of the +big department stores and manufacturers and motor-buses of +London, Paris, and Berlin were taken over by the different armies. +They had cost them from two thousand to three thousand dollars +each, and in times of peace, had they been used for the purposes for +which they were built, would several times over have paid for +themselves. But war gave them no time to pay even for their tires. +You saw them by the roadside, cast aside like empty cigarette-boxes. +A few hours' tinkering would have set them right. They were still good +for years of service. But an army in retreat or in pursuit has no time to +waste in repairing motors. To waste the motor is cheaper. + +Between Villers-Cotterets and Soissons the road was strewn with +high-power automobiles and motor-trucks that the Germans had +been forced to destroy. Something had gone wrong, something that +at other times could easily have been mended. But with the French in +pursuit there was no time to pause, nor could cars of such value be +left to the enemy. So they had been set on fire or blown up, or +allowed to drive head-on into a stone wall or over an embankment. +From the road above we could see them in the field below, lying like +giant turtles on their backs. In one place in the forest of Villers was a +line of fifteen trucks, each capable of carrying five tons. The gasolene +to feed them had become exhausted, and the whole fifteen had been +set on fire. In war this is necessary, but it was none the less waste. +When an army takes the field it must consider first its own safety; and +to embarrass the enemy everything else must be sacrificed. It cannot +consider the feelings or pockets of railroad or telegraph companies. It +cannot hesitate to destroy a bridge because that bridge cost five +hundred thousand dollars. And it does not hesitate. + +Motoring from Paris to the front these days is a question of avoiding +roads rendered useless because a broken bridge has cut them in +half. All over France are these bridges of iron, of splendid masonry, +some decorated with statues, some dating back hundreds of years, +but now with a span blown out or entirely destroyed and sprawling in +the river. All of these material things--motor-cars, stone bridges, +railroad-tracks, telegraph-lines--can be replaced. Money can restore +them. But money cannot restore the noble trees of France and +Belgium, eighty years old or more, that shaded the roads, that made +beautiful the parks and forests. For military purposes they have been +cut down or by artillery fire shattered into splinters. They will again +grow, but eighty years is a long time to wait. + +Nor can money replace the greatest waste of all--the waste in "killed, +wounded, and missing." The waste of human life in this war is so +enormous, so far beyond our daily experience, that disasters less +appalling are much easier to understand. The loss of three people in +an automobile accident comes nearer home than the fact that at the +battle of Sezanne thirty thousand men were killed. Few of us are +trained to think of men in such numbers--certainly not of dead men in +such numbers. We have seen thirty thousand men together only +during the world's series or at the championship football matches. To +get an idea of the waste of this war we must imagine all of the +spectators at a football match between Yale and Harvard suddenly +stricken dead. We must think of all the wives, children, friends +affected by the loss of those thirty thousand, and we must multiply +those thirty thousand by hundreds, and imagine these hundreds of +thousands lying dead in Belgium, in Alsace-Lorraine, and within ten +miles of Paris. After the Germans were repulsed at Meaux and at +Sezanne the dead of both armies were so many that they lay +intermingled in layers three and four deep. They were buried in long +pits and piled on top of each other like cigars in a box. Lines of fresh +earth so long that you mistook them for trenches intended to conceal +regiments were in reality graves. Some bodies lay for days uncovered +until they had lost all human semblance. They were so many you +ceased to regard them even as corpses. They had become just a +part of the waste, a part of the shattered walls, uprooted trees, and +fields ploughed by shells. What once had been your fellow men were +only bundles of clothes, swollen and shapeless, like scarecrows +stuffed with rags, polluting the air. + +The wounded were hardly less pitiful. They were so many and so +thickly did they fall that the ambulance service at first was not +sufficient to handle them. They lay in the fields or forests sometimes +for a day before they were picked up, suffering unthinkable agony. +And after they were placed in cars and started back toward Paris the +tortures continued. Some of the trains of wounded that arrived +outside the city had not been opened in two days. The wounded had +been without food or water. They had not been able to move from the +positions in which in torment they had thrown themselves. The foul air +had produced gangrene. And when the cars were opened the stench +was so fearful that the Red Cross people fell back as though from a +blow. For the wounded Paris is full of hospitals--French, English, and +American. And the hospitals are full of splendid men. Each one once +had been physically fit or he would not have been passed to the front; +and those among them who are officers are finely bred, finely +educated, or they would not be officers. But each matched his good +health, his good breeding, and knowledge against a broken piece of +shell or steel bullet, and the shell or bullet won. They always will win. +Stephen Crane called a wound "the red badge of courage." It is all of +that. And the man who wears that badge has all my admiration. But I +cannot help feeling also the waste of it. I would have a standing army +for the same excellent reason that I insure my house; but, except in +self-defence, no war. For war--and I have seen a lot of it--is waste. +And waste is unintelligent. + + + + +Chapter XI +War Correspondents + + + +The attitude of the newspaper reader toward the war correspondent +who tries to supply him with war news has always puzzled me. + +One might be pardoned for suggesting that their interests are the +same. If the correspondent is successful, the better service he +renders the reader. The more he is permitted to see at the front, the +more news he is allowed to cable home, the better satisfied should be +the man who follows the war through the "extras." + +But what happens is the reverse of that. Never is the "constant +reader" so delighted as when the war correspondent gets the worst of +it. It is the one sure laugh. The longer he is kept at the base, the more +he is bottled up, "deleted," censored, and made prisoner, the greater +is the delight of the man at home. He thinks the joke is on the war +correspondent. I think it is on the "constant reader." If, at breakfast, +the correspondent fails to supply the morning paper with news, the +reader claims the joke is on the news-gatherer. But if the milkman +fails to leave the milk, and the baker the rolls, is the joke on the +milkman and the baker or is it on the "constant reader"? Which goes +hungry? + +The explanation of the attitude of the "constant reader" to the +reporters seems to be that he regards the correspondent as a prying +busybody, as a sort of spy, and when he is snubbed and suppressed +he feels he is properly punished. Perhaps the reader also resents the +fact that while the correspondent goes abroad, he stops at home and +receives the news at second hand. Possibly he envies the man who +has a front seat and who tells him about it. And if you envy a man, +when that man comes to grief it is only human nature to laugh. + +You have seen unhappy small boys outside a baseball park, and one +happy boy inside on the highest seat of the grand stand, who calls +down to them why the people are yelling and who has struck out. Do +the boys on the ground love the boy in the grand stand and are they +grateful to him? No. + +Does the fact that they do not love him and are not grateful to him for +telling them the news distress the boy in the grand stand? No. For no +matter how closely he is bottled up, how strictly censored, "deleted," +arrested, searched, and persecuted, as between the man at home +and the correspondent, the correspondent will always be the more +fortunate. He is watching the march of great events, he is studying +history in the making, and all he sees is of interest. Were it not of +interest he would not have been sent to report it. He watches men +acting under the stress of all the great emotions. He sees them +inspired by noble courage, pity, the spirit of self-sacrifice, of loyalty, +and pride of race and country. + +In Cuba I saw Captain Robb Church of our army win the Medal of +Honor, in South Africa I saw Captain Towse of the Scot Greys win his +Victoria Cross. Those of us who watched him knew he had won it just +as surely as you know when a runner crosses the home plate and +scores. Can the man at home from the crook play or the home run +obtain a thrill that can compare with the sight of a man offering up his +life that other men may live? + +When I returned to New York every second man I knew greeted me +sympathetically with: "So, you had to come home, hey? They wouldn't +let you see a thing." And if I had time I told him all I saw was the +German, French, Belgian, and English armies in the field, Belgium in +ruins and flames, the Germans sacking Louvain, in the Dover Straits +dreadnoughts, cruisers, torpedo destroyers, submarines, +hydroplanes; in Paris bombs falling from air-ships and a city put to +bed at 9 o'clock; battle-fields covered with dead men; fifteen miles of +artillery firing across the Aisne at fifteen miles of artillery; the +bombardment of Rheims, with shells lifting the roofs as easily as you +would lift the cover of a chafing-dish and digging holes in the streets, +and the cathedral on fire; I saw hundreds of thousands of soldiers +from India, Senegal, Morocco, Ireland, Australia, Algiers, Bavaria, +Prussia, Scotland, saw them at the front in action, saw them +marching over the whole northern half of Europe, saw them wounded +and helpless, saw thousands of women and children sleeping under +hedges and haystacks with on every side of them their homes blazing +in flames or crashing in ruins. That was a part of what I saw. What +during the same two months did the man at home see? If he were +lucky he saw the Braves win the world's series, or the Vernon Castles +dance the fox trot. + +The war correspondents who were sent to this war knew it was to +sound their death-knell. They knew that because the newspapers that +had no correspondents at the front told them so; because the +General Staff of each army told them so; because every man they +met who stayed at home told them so. Instead of taking their death- +blow lying down they went out to meet it. In other wars as rivals they +had fought to get the news; in this war they were fighting for their +professional existence, for their ancient right to stand on the firing- +line, to report the facts, to try to describe the indescribable. If their +death-knell sounded they certainly did not hear it. If they were licked +they did not know it. In the twenty-five years in which I have followed +wars, in no other war have I seen the war correspondents so well +prove their right to march with armies. The happy days when they +were guests of the army, when news was served to them by the men +who made the news, when Archibald Forbes and Frank Millet shared +the same mess with the future Czar of Russia, when MacGahan slept +in the tent with Skobeleff and Kipling rode with Roberts, have passed. +Now, with every army the correspondent is as popular as a floating +mine, as welcome as the man dropping bombs from an air-ship. The +hand of every one is against him. "Keep out! This means you!" is the +way they greet him. Added to the dangers and difficulties they must +overcome in any campaign, which are only what give the game its +flavor, they are now hunted, harassed, and imprisoned. But the new +conditions do not halt them. They, too, are fighting for their place in +the sun. I know one man whose name in this war has been signed to +despatches as brilliant and as numerous as those of any +correspondent, but which for obvious reasons is not given here. He +was arrested by one army, kept four days in a cell, and then warned if +he was again found within the lines of that army he would go to jail for +six months; one month later he was once more arrested, and told if +he again came near the front he would go to prison for two years. +Two weeks later he was back at the front. Such a story causes the +teeth of all the members of the General Staff to gnash with fury. You +can hear them exclaiming: "If we caught that man we would treat him +as a spy." And so unintelligent are they on the question of +correspondents that they probably would. + +When Orville Wright hid himself in South Carolina to perfect his flying- +machine he objected to what he called the "spying" of the +correspondents. One of them rebuked him. "You have discovered +something," he said, "in which the whole civilized world is interested. +If it is true you have made it possible for man to fly, that discovery is +more important than your personal wishes. Your secret is too +valuable for you to keep to yourself. We are not spies. We are +civilization demanding to know if you have something that more +concerns the whole world than it can possibly concern you." + +As applied to war, that point of view is equally just. The army calls for +your father, husband, son--calls for your money. It enters upon a war +that destroys your peace of mind, wrecks your business, kills the men +of your family, the man you were going to marry, the son you brought +into the world. And to you the army says: "This is our war. We will +fight it in our own way, and of it you can learn only what we choose to +tell you. We will not let you know whether your country is winning the +fight or is in danger, whether we have blundered and the soldiers are +starving, whether they gave their lives gloriously or through our lack +of preparation or inefficiency are dying of neglected wounds." And if +you answer that you will send with the army men to write letters home +and tell you, not the plans for the future and the secrets of the army, +but what are already accomplished facts, the army makes reply: "No, +those men cannot be trusted. They are spies." + +Not for one moment does the army honestly think those men are +spies. But it is the excuse nearest at hand. It is the easiest way out of +a situation every army, save our own, has failed to treat with +intelligence. Every army knows that there are men to-day acting, or +anxious to act, as war correspondents who can be trusted absolutely, +whose loyalty and discretion are above question, who no more would +rob their army of a military secret than they would rob a till. If the army +does not know that, it is unintelligent. That is the only crime I impute +to any general staff--lack of intelligence. + +When Captain Granville Fortescue, of the Hearst syndicate, told the +French general that his word as a war correspondent was as good as +that of any general in any army he was indiscreet, but he was merely +stating a fact. The answer of the French general was to put him in +prison. That was not an intelligent answer. + +The last time I was arrested was at Romigny, by General Asebert. I +had on me a three-thousand-word story, written that morning in +Rheims, telling of the wanton destruction of the cathedral. I asked the +General Staff, for their own good, to let the story go through. It stated +only facts which I believed were they known to civilized people would +cause them to protest against a repetition of such outrages. To get +the story on the wire I made to Lieutenant Lucien Frechet and Major +Klotz, of the General Staff, a sporting offer. For every word of my +despatch they censored I offered to give them for the Red Cross of +France five francs. That was an easy way for them to subscribe to the +French wounded three thousand dollars. To release his story Gerald +Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, made them the same offer. It +was a perfectly safe offer for Gerald to make, because a great part of +his story was an essay on Gothic architecture. Their answer was to +put both of us in the Cherche-Midi prison. The next day the censor +read my story and said to Lieutenant Frechet and Major Klotz: "But I +insist this goes at once. It should have been sent twenty-four hours +ago." + +Than the courtesy of the French officers nothing could have been +more correct, but I submit that when you earnestly wish to help a man +to have him constantly put you in prison is confusing. It was all very +well to dissemble your love. But why did you kick me down-stairs? + +There was the case of Luigi Barzini. In Italy Barzini is the D'Annunzio +of newspaper writers. Of all Italian journalists he is the best known. +On September 18, at Romigny, General Asebert arrested Barzini, and +for four days kept him in a cow stable. Except what he begged from +the gendarmes, he had no food, and he slept on straw. When I saw +him at the headquarters of the General Staff under arrest I told them +who he was, and that were I in their place I would let him see all there +was to see, and let him, as he wished, write to his people of the +excellence of the French army and of the inevitable success of the +Allies. With Italy balancing on the fence and needing very little urging +to cause her to join her fortunes with France, to choose that moment +to put Italian journalists in a cow yard struck me as dull. + +In this war the foreign offices of the different governments have been +willing to allow correspondents to accompany the army. They know +that there are other ways of killing a man than by hitting him with a +piece of shrapnel. One way is to tell the truth about him. In this entire +war nothing hit Germany so hard a blow as the publicity given to a +certain remark about a scrap of paper. But from the government the +army would not tolerate any interference. It said: "Do you want us to +run this war or do you want to run it?" Each army of the Allies treated +its own government much as Walter Camp would treat the Yale +faculty if it tried to tell him who should play right tackle. + +As a result of the ban put upon the correspondents by the armies, the +English and a few American newspapers, instead of sending into the +field one accredited representative, gave their credentials to a dozen. +These men had no other credentials. The letter each received stating +that he represented a newspaper worked both ways. When arrested +it helped to save him from being shot as a spy, and it was almost sure +to lead him to jail. The only way we could hope to win out was through +the good nature of an officer or his ignorance of the rules. Many +officers did not know that at the front correspondents were prohibited. + +As in the old days of former wars we would occasionally come upon +an officer who was glad to see some one from the base who could tell +him the news and carry back from the front messages to his friends +and family. He knew we could not carry away from him any +information of value to the enemy, because he had none to give. In a +battle front extending one hundred miles he knew only his own tiny +unit. On the Aisne a general told me the shrapnel smoke we saw two +miles away on his right came from the English artillery, and that on his +left five miles distant were the Canadians. At that exact moment the +English were at Havre and the Canadians were in Montreal. + +In order to keep at the front, or near it, we were forced to make use of +every kind of trick and expedient. An English officer who was acting +as a correspondent, and with whom for several weeks I shared the +same automobile, had no credentials except an order permitting him +to pass the policemen at the British War Office. With this he made his +way over half of France. In the corner of the pass was the seal or +coat of arms of the War Office. When a sentry halted him he would, +with great care and with an air of confidence, unfold this permit, and +with a proud smile point at the red seal. The sentry, who could not +read English, would invariably salute the coat of arms of his ally, and +wave us forward. + +That we were with allied armies instead of with one was a great help. +We would play one against the other. When a French officer halted +us we would not show him a French pass but a Belgian one, or one in +English, and out of courtesy to his ally he would permit us to proceed. +But our greatest asset always was a newspaper. After a man has +been in a dirt trench for two weeks, absolutely cut off from the entire +world, and when that entire world is at war, for a newspaper he will +give his shoes and his blanket. + +The Paris papers were printed on a single sheet and would pack as +close as bank-notes. We never left Paris without several hundred of +them, but lest we might be mobbed we showed only one. It was the +duty of one of us to hold this paper in readiness. The man who was to +show the pass sat by the window. Of all our worthless passes our rule +was always to show first the one of least value. If that failed we +brought out a higher card, and continued until we had reached the +ace. If that proved to be a two-spot, we all went to jail. Whenever we +were halted, invariably there was the knowing individual who +recognized us as newspaper men, and in order to save his country +from destruction clamored to have us hung. It was for this pest that +the one with the newspaper lay in wait. And the instant the pest +opened his lips our man in reserve would shove the Figaro at him. +"Have you seen this morning's paper?" he would ask sweetly. It +never failed us. The suspicious one would grab at the paper as a dog +snatches at a bone, and our chauffeur, trained to our team-work, +would shoot forward. + +When after hundreds of delays we did reach the firing-line, we always +announced we were on our way back to Paris and would convey +there postal cards and letters. If you were anxious to stop in any one +place this was an excellent excuse. For at once every officer and +soldier began writing to the loved ones at home, and while they wrote +you knew you would not be molested and were safe to look at the +fighting. + +It was most wearing, irritating, nerve-racking work. You knew you +were on the level. In spite of the General Staff you believed you had a +right to be where you were. You knew you had no wish to pry into +military secrets; you knew that toward the allied armies you felt only +admiration--that you wanted only to help. But no one else knew that; +or cared. Every hundred yards you were halted, cross-examined, +searched, put through a third degree. It was senseless, silly, and +humiliating. Only a professional crook with his thumb-prints and +photograph in every station-house can appreciate how from minute to +minute we lived. Under such conditions work is difficult. It does not +make for efficiency to know that any man you meet is privileged to +touch you on the shoulder and send you to prison. + +This is a world war, and my contention is that the world has a right to +know, not what is going to happen next, but at least what has +happened. If men have died nobly, if women and children have +cruelly and needlessly suffered, if for no military necessity and without +reason cities have been wrecked, the world should know that. + +Those who are carrying on this war behind a curtain, who have +enforced this conspiracy of silence, tell you that in their good time the +truth will be known. It will not. If you doubt this, read the accounts of +this war sent out from the Yser by the official "eye-witness" or +"observer" of the English General Staff. Compare his amiable gossip +in early Victorian phrases with the story of the same battle by Percival +Phillips; with the descriptions of the fall of Antwerp by Arthur Ruhl, and +the retreat to the Marne by Robert Dunn. Some men are trained to +fight, and others are trained to write. The latter can tell you of what +they have seen so that you, safe at home at the breakfast table, also +can see it. Any newspaper correspondent would rather send his +paper news than a descriptive story. But news lasts only until you +have told it to the next man, and if in this war the correspondent is not +to be permitted to send the news I submit he should at least be +permitted to tell what has happened in the past. This war is a world +enterprise, and in it every man, woman, and child is an interested +stockholder. They have a right to know what is going forward. The +directors' meetings should not be held in secret. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11730 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..557bac2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11730 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11730) diff --git a/old/11730-8.txt b/old/11730-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a07001 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11730-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4527 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, With the Allies, by Richard Harding Davis + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: With the Allies + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: March 27, 2004 [eBook #11730] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE ALLIES*** + + +E-text prepared by A. Langley + + + +WITH THE ALLIES + +by + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + + + + + + +Preface + + +I have not seen the letter addressed by President Wilson to the +American people calling upon them to preserve toward this war the +mental attitude of neutrals. But I have seen the war. And I feel sure +had President Wilson seen my war he would not have written his +letter. + +This is not a war against Germans, as we know Germans in America, +where they are among our sanest, most industrious, and most +responsible fellow countrymen. It is a war, as Winston Churchill has +pointed out, against the military aristocracy of Germany, men who are +six hundred years behind the times; who, to preserve their class +against democracy, have perverted to the uses of warfare, to the +destruction of life, every invention of modern times. These men are +military mad. To our ideal of representative government their own +idea is as far opposed as is martial law to the free speech of our town +meetings. + +One returning from the war is astonished to find how little of the true +horror of it crosses the ocean. That this is so is due partly to the strict +censorship that suppresses the details of the war, and partly to the +fact that the mind is not accustomed to consider misery on a scale so +gigantic. The loss of hundreds of thousands of lives, the wrecking of +cities, and the laying waste of half of Europe cannot be brought home +to people who learn of it only through newspapers and moving +pictures and by sticking pins in a map. Were they nearer to it, near +enough to see the women and children fleeing from the shells and to +smell the dead on the battle-fields, there would be no talk of +neutrality. + +Such lack of understanding our remoteness from the actual seat of +war explains. But on the part of many Americans one finds another +attitude of mind which is more difficult to explain. It is the cupidity +that in the misfortunes of others sees only a chance for profit. In +an offer made to its readers a prominent American magazine +best expresses this attitude. It promises prizes for the essays +on "What the war means to me." + +To the American women Miss Ida M. Tar-bell writes: "This is her time +to learn what her own country's industries can do, and to rally with all +her influence to their support, urging them to make the things she +wants, and pledging them her allegiance." + +This appeal is used in a periodical with a circulation of over a million, +as an advertisement for silk hose. I do not agree with Miss Tarbell +that this is the time to rally to the support of home industries. I do not +agree with the advertiser that when in Belgium several million women +and children are homeless, starving, and naked that that is the time +to buy his silk hose. To urge that charity begins at home is to repeat +one of the most selfish axioms ever uttered, and in this war to urge +civilized, thinking people to remain neutral is equally selfish. + +Were the conflict in Europe a fair fight, the duty of every American +would be to keep on the side-lines and preserve an open mind. But it +is not a fair fight. To devastate a country you have sworn to protect, +to drop bombs upon unfortified cities, to lay sunken mines, to levy +blackmail by threatening hostages with death, to destroy cathedrals is +not to fight fair. + +That is the way Germany is fighting. She is defying the rules of war +and the rules of humanity. And if public opinion is to help in +preventing further outrages, and in hastening this unspeakable +conflict to an end, it should be directed against the one who offends. +If we are convinced that one opponent is fighting honestly and that +his adversary is striking below the belt, then for us to maintain a +neutral attitude of mind is unworthy and the attitude of a coward. + +When a mad dog runs amuck in a village it is the duty of every farmer +to get his gun and destroy it, not to lock himself indoors and toward +the dog and the men who face him preserve a neutral mind. + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. +NEW YORK, Dec. 1st, 1914. + + + + + +Contents + + I. The Germans In Brussels + II. "To Be Treated As A Spy" + III. The Burning Of Louvain + IV. Paris In War Time + V. The Battle Of Soissons + VI. The Bombardment Of Rheims + VII. The Spirit Of The English +VIII. Our Diplomats In The War Zone + IX. "Under Fire" + X. The Waste Of War + XI. The War Correspondents + + + + + +Chapter I +The Germans In Brussels + + + +When, on August 4, the Lusitania, with lights doused and air-ports +sealed, slipped out of New York harbor the crime of the century was +only a few days old. And for three days those on board the Lusitania +of the march of the great events were ignorant. Whether or no +between England and Germany the struggle for the supremacy of the +sea had begun we could not learn. + +But when, on the third day, we came on deck the news was written +against the sky. Swinging from the funnels, sailors were painting out +the scarlet-and-black colors of the Cunard line and substituting a +mouse-like gray. Overnight we had passed into the hands of the +admiralty, and the Lusitania had emerged a cruiser. That to possible +German war-ships she might not disclose her position, she sent no +wireless messages. But she could receive them; and at breakfast in +the ship's newspaper appeared those she had overnight snatched +from the air. Among them, without a scare-head, in the most modest +of type, we read: "England and Germany have declared war." Seldom +has news so momentous been conveyed so simply or, by the +Englishmen on board, more calmly accepted. For any exhibition they +gave of excitement or concern, the news the radio brought them +might have been the result of a by-election. + +Later in the morning they gave us another exhibition of that +repression of feeling, of that disdain of hysteria, that is a national +characteristic, and is what Mr. Kipling meant when he wrote: "But oh, +beware my country, when my country grows polite!" + +Word came that in the North Sea the English war-ships had +destroyed the German fleet. To celebrate this battle which, were the +news authentic, would rank with Trafalgar and might mean the end of +the war, one of the ship's officers exploded a detonating bomb. +Nothing else exploded. Whatever feelings of satisfaction our English +cousins experienced they concealed. + +Under like circumstances, on an American ship, we would have tied +down the siren, sung the doxology, and broken everything on the bar. +As it was, the Americans instinctively flocked to the smoking-room +and drank to the British navy. While this ceremony was going +forward, from the promenade-deck we heard tumultuous shouts and +cheers. We believed that, relieved of our presence, our English +friends had given way to rejoicings. But when we went on deck we +found them deeply engaged in cricket. The cheers we had heard +were over the retirement of a batsman who had just been given out, +leg before wicket. + +When we reached London we found no idle boasting, no vainglorious +jingoism. The war that Germany had forced upon them the English +accepted with a grim determination to see it through and, while they +were about it, to make it final. They were going ahead with no false +illusions. Fully did every one appreciate the enormous task, the +personal loss that lay before him. But each, in his or her way, went +into the fight determined to do his duty. There was no dismay, no +hysteria, no "mafficking." + +The secrecy maintained by the press and the people regarding +anything concerning the war, the knowledge of which might +embarrass the War Office, was one of the most admirable and +remarkable conspiracies of silence that modern times have known. +Officers of the same regiment even with each other would not discuss +the orders they had received. In no single newspaper, with no matter +how lurid a past record for sensationalism, was there a line to suggest +that a British army had landed in France and that Great Britain was at +war. Sooner than embarrass those who were conducting the fight, the +individual English man and woman in silence suffered the most cruel +anxiety of mind. Of that, on my return to London from Brussels, I was +given an illustration. I had written to The Daily Chronicle telling where +in Belgium I had seen a wrecked British airship, and beside it the +grave of the aviator. I gave the information in order that the family of +the dead officer might find the grave and bring the body home. The +morning the letter was published an elderly gentleman, a retired +officer of the navy, called at my rooms. His son, he said, was an +aviator, and for a month of him no word had come. His mother was +distressed. Could I describe the air-ship I had seen? + +I was not keen to play the messenger of ill tidings, so I tried to gain +time. + +"What make of aeroplane does your son drive?" I asked. + +As though preparing for a blow, the old gentleman drew himself up, +and looked me steadily in the eyes. + +"A Blériot monoplane," he said. + +I was as relieved as though his boy were one of my own kinsmen. + +"The air-ship I saw," I told him, "was an Avro biplane!" + +Of the two I appeared much the more pleased. + +The retired officer bowed. + +"I thank you," he said. "It will be good news for his mother." + +"But why didn't you go to the War Office?" I asked. + +He reproved me firmly. + +"They have asked us not to question them," he said, "and when they +are working for all I have no right to embarrass them with my personal +trouble." + +As the chance of obtaining credentials with the British army appeared +doubtful, I did not remain in London, but at once crossed to Belgium. + +Before the Germans came, Brussels was an imitation Paris-- +especially along the inner boulevards she was Paris at her best. And +her great parks, her lakes gay with pleasure-boats or choked with lily- +pads, her haunted forests, where your taxicab would startle the wild +deer, are the most beautiful I have ever seen in any city in the world. +As, in the days of the Second Empire, Louis Napoleon bedecked +Paris, so Leopold decorated Brussels. In her honor and to his own +glory he gave her new parks, filled in her moats along her ancient +fortifications, laid out boulevards shaded with trees, erected arches, +monuments, museums. That these jewels he hung upon her neck +were wrung from the slaves of the Congo does not make them the +less beautiful. And before the Germans came the life of the people of +Brussels was in keeping with the elegance, beauty, and joyousness +of their surroundings. + +At the Palace Hotel, which is the clearing-house for the social life of +Brussels, we found everybody taking his ease at a little iron table on +the sidewalk. It was night, but the city was as light as noonday-- +brilliant, elated, full of movement and color. For Liege was still held by +the Belgians, and they believed that all along the line they were +holding back the German army. It was no wonder they were jubilant. +They had a right to be proud. They had been making history. In order +to give them time to mobilize, the Allies had asked them for two days +to delay the German invader. They had held him back for fifteen. As +David went against Goliath, they had repulsed the German. And as +yet there had been no reprisals, no destruction of cities, no murdering +of non-combatants; war still was something glad and glorious. + +The signs of it were the Boy Scouts, everywhere helping every one, +carrying messages, guiding strangers, directing traffic; and Red +Cross nurses and aviators from England, smart Belgian officers +exclaiming bitterly over the delay in sending them forward, and +private automobiles upon the enamelled sides of which the transport +officer with a piece of chalk had scratched, "For His Majesty," and +piled the silk cushions high with ammunition. From table to table +young girls passed jangling tiny tin milk-cans. They were supplicants, +begging money for the wounded. There were so many of them and +so often they made their rounds that, to protect you from themselves, +if you subscribed a lump sum, you were exempt and were given a +badge to prove you were immune. + +Except for these signs of the times you would not have known +Belgium was at war. The spirit of the people was undaunted. Into their +daily lives the conflict had penetrated only like a burst of martial +music. Rather than depressing, it inspired them. Wherever you +ventured, you found them undismayed. And in those weeks during +which events moved so swiftly that now they seem months in the +past, we were as free as in our own "home town" to go where we +chose. + +For the war correspondent those were the happy days! Like every +one else, from the proudest nobleman to the boy in wooden shoes, +we were given a laissez-passer, which gave us permission to go +anywhere; this with a passport was our only credential. Proper +credentials to accompany the army in the field had been formerly +refused me by the war officers of England, France, and Belgium. So +in Brussels each morning I chartered an automobile and without +credentials joined the first army that happened to be passing. +Sometimes you stumbled upon an escarmouche, sometimes you fled +from one, sometimes you drew blank. Over our early coffee we would +study the morning papers and, as in the glad days of racing at home, +from them try to dope out the winners. If we followed La Dernière +Heure we would go to Namur; L'Etoile was strong for Tirlemont. +Would we lose if we plunged on Wavre? Again, the favorite seemed +to be Louvain. On a straight tip from the legation the English +correspondents were going to motor to Diest. From a Belgian officer +we had been given inside information that the fight would be pulled off +at Gembloux. And, unencumbered by even a sandwich, and too wise +to carry a field-glass or a camera, each would depart upon his +separate errand, at night returning to a perfectly served dinner and a +luxurious bed. For the news-gatherers it was a game of chance. The +wisest veterans would cast their nets south and see only harvesters +in the fields, the amateurs would lose their way to the north and find +themselves facing an army corps or running a gauntlet of shell-fire. It +was like throwing a handful of coins on the table hoping that one +might rest upon the winning number. Over the map of Belgium we +threw ourselves. Some days we landed on the right color, on others +we saw no more than we would see at state manoeuvres. Judging by +his questions, the lay brother seems to think that the chief trouble of +the war correspondent is dodging bullets. It is not. It consists in trying +to bribe a station-master to carry you on a troop train, or in finding +forage for your horse. What wars I have seen have taken place in +spots isolated and inaccessible, far from the haunts of men. By day +you followed the fight and tried to find the censor, and at night you sat +on a cracker-box and by the light of a candle struggled to keep awake +and to write deathless prose. In Belgium it was not like that. The +automobile which Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, and +I shared was of surpassing beauty, speed, and comfort. It was as +long as a Plant freight-car and as yellow; and from it flapped in the +breeze more English, Belgian, French, and Russian flags than fly +from the roof of the New York Hippodrome. Whenever we sighted an +army we lashed the flags of its country to our headlights, and at sixty +miles an hour bore down upon it. + +The army always first arrested us, and then, on learning our +nationality, asked if it were true that America had joined the Allies. +After I had punched his ribs a sufficient number of times Morgan +learned to reply without winking that it had. In those days the sun +shone continuously; the roads, except where we ran on the blocks +that made Belgium famous, were perfect; and overhead for miles +noble trees met and embraced. The country was smiling and +beautiful. In the fields the women (for the men were at the front) were +gathering the crops, the stacks of golden grain stretched from village +to village. The houses in these were white-washed and, the better to +advertise chocolates, liqueurs, and automobile tires, were painted a +cobalt blue; their roofs were of red tiles, and they sat in gardens of +purple cabbages or gaudy hollyhocks. In the orchards the pear-trees +were bent with fruit. We never lacked for food; always, when we lost +the trail and "checked," or burst a tire, there was an inn with fruit-trees +trained to lie flat against the wall, or to spread over arbors and +trellises. Beneath these, close by the roadside, we sat and drank red +wine, and devoured omelets and vast slabs of rye bread. At night we +raced back to the city, through twelve miles of parks, to enamelled +bathtubs, shaded electric light, and iced champagne; while before our +table passed all the night life of a great city. And for suffering these +hardships of war our papers paid us large sums. + +On such a night as this, the night of August 18, strange folk in +wooden shoes and carrying bundles, and who looked like emigrants +from Ellis Island, appeared in front of the restaurant. Instantly they +were swallowed up in a crowd and the dinner-parties, napkins in +hand, flocked into the Place Rogier and increased the throng around +them. + +"The Germans!" those in the heart of the crowd called over their +shoulders. "The Germans are at Louvain!" + +That afternoon I had conscientiously cabled my paper that there were +no Germans anywhere near Louvain. I had been west of Louvain, +and the particular column of the French army to which I had attached +myself certainly saw no Germans. + +"They say," whispered those nearest the fugitives, "the German +shells are falling in Louvain. Ten houses are on fire!" Ten houses! +How monstrous it sounded! Ten houses of innocent country folk +destroyed. In those days such a catastrophe was unbelievable. We +smiled knowingly. + +"Refugees always talk like that," we said wisely. "The Germans would +not bombard an unfortified town. And, besides, there are no Germans +south of Liege." + +The morning following in my room I heard from the Place Rogier the +warnings of many motor horns. At great speed innumerable +automobiles were approaching, all coming from the west through the +Boulevard du Regent, and without slackening speed passing +northeast toward Ghent, Bruges, and the coast. The number +increased and the warnings became insistent. At eight o'clock they +had sent out a sharp request for right of way; at nine in number they +had trebled, and the note of the sirens was raucous, harsh, and +peremptory. At ten no longer were there disconnected warnings, but +from the horns and sirens issued one long, continuous scream. It was +like the steady roar of a gale in the rigging, and it spoke in abject +panic. The voices of the cars racing past were like the voices of +human beings driven with fear. From the front of the hotel we +watched them. There were taxicabs, racing cars, limousines. They +were crowded with women and children of the rich, and of the nobility +and gentry from the great châteaux far to the west. Those who +occupied them were white-faced with the dust of the road, with +weariness and fear. In cars magnificently upholstered, padded, and +cushioned were piled trunks, hand-bags, dressing-cases. The women +had dressed at a moment's warning, as though at a cry of fire. Many +had travelled throughout the night, and in their arms the children, +snatched from the pillows, were sleeping. + +But more appealing were the peasants. We walked out along the +inner boulevards to meet them, and found the side streets blocked +with their carts. Into these they had thrown mattresses, or bundles of +grain, and heaped upon them were families of three generations. Old +men in blue smocks, white-haired and bent, old women in caps, the +daughters dressed in their one best frock and hat, and clasping in +their hands all that was left to them, all that they could stuff into a +pillow-case or flour-sack. The tears rolled down their brown, tanned +faces. To the people of Brussels who crowded around them they +spoke in hushed, broken phrases. The terror of what they had +escaped or of what they had seen was upon them. They had +harnessed the plough-horse to the dray or market-wagon and to the +invaders had left everything. What, they asked, would befall the live +stock they had abandoned, the ducks on the pond, the cattle in the +field? Who would feed them and give them water? At the question the +tears would break out afresh. Heart-broken, weary, hungry, they +passed in an unending caravan. With them, all fleeing from the same +foe, all moving in one direction, were family carriages, the servants on +the box in disordered livery, as they had served dinner, or coatless, +but still in the striped waistcoats and silver buttons of grooms or +footmen, and bicyclers with bundles strapped to their shoulders, and +men and women stumbling on foot, carrying their children. Above it all +rose the breathless scream of the racing-cars, as they rocked and +skidded, with brakes grinding and mufflers open; with their own terror +creating and spreading terror. + +Though eager in sympathy, the people of Brussels themselves were +undisturbed. Many still sat at the little iron tables and smiled pityingly +upon the strange figures of the peasants. They had had their trouble +for nothing, they said. It was a false alarm. There were no Germans +nearer than Liege. And, besides, should the Germans come, the civil +guard would meet them. + +But, better informed than they, that morning the American minister, +Brand Whitlock, and the Marquis Villalobar, the Spanish minister, had +called upon the burgomaster and advised him not to defend the city. +As Whitlock pointed out, with the force at his command, which was +the citizen soldiery, he could delay the entrance of the Germans by +only an hour, and in that hour many innocent lives would be wasted +and monuments of great beauty, works of art that belong not alone to +Brussels but to the world, would be destroyed. Burgomaster Max, +who is a splendid and worthy representative of a long line of +burgomasters, placing his hand upon his heart, said: "Honor requires +it." + +To show that in the protection of the Belgian Government he had full +confidence, Mr. Whitlock had not as yet shown his colors. But that +morning when he left the Hôtel de Ville he hung the American flag +over his legation and over that of the British. Those of us who had +elected to remain in Brussels moved our belongings to a hotel across +the street from the legation. Not taking any chances, for my own use I +reserved a green leather sofa in the legation itself. + +Except that the cafés were empty of Belgian officers, and of English +correspondents, whom, had they remained, the Germans would have +arrested, there was not, up to late in the afternoon of the 19th of +August, in the life and conduct of the citizens any perceptible change. +They could not have shown a finer spirit. They did not know the city +would not be defended; and yet with before them on the morrow the +prospect of a battle which Burgomaster Max had announced would +be contested to the very heart of the city, as usual the cafés blazed +like open fire-places and the people sat at the little iron tables. Even +when, like great buzzards, two German aeroplanes sailed slowly +across Brussels, casting shadows of events to come, the people +regarded them only with curiosity. The next morning the shops were +open, the streets were crowded. But overnight the soldier-king had +sent word that Brussels must not oppose the invaders; and at the +gendarmerie the civil guard, reluctantly and protesting, some even in +tears, turned in their rifles and uniforms. + +The change came at ten in the morning. It was as though a wand had +waved and from a fête-day on the Continent we had been wafted to +London on a rainy Sunday. The boulevards fell suddenly empty. +There was not a house that was not closely shuttered. Along the +route by which we now knew the Germans were advancing, it was as +though the plague stalked. That no one should fire from a window, +that to the conquerors no one should offer insult, Burgomaster Max +sent out as special constables men he trusted. Their badge of +authority was a walking-stick and a piece of paper fluttering from a +buttonhole. These, the police, and the servants and caretakers of the +houses that lined the boulevards alone were visible. At eleven +o'clock, unobserved but by this official audience, down the Boulevard +Waterloo came the advance-guard of the German army. It consisted +of three men, a captain and two privates on bicycles. Their rifles were +slung across their shoulders, they rode unwarily, with as little concern +as the members of a touring-club out for a holiday. Behind them, so +close upon each other that to cross from one sidewalk to the other +was not possible, came the Uhlans, infantry, and the guns. For two +hours I watched them, and then, bored with the monotony of it, +returned to the hotel. After an hour, from beneath my window, I still +could hear them; another hour and another went by. They still were +passing. + +Boredom gave way to wonder. The thing fascinated you, against your +will, dragged you back to the sidewalk and held you there open-eyed. +No longer was it regiments of men marching, but something uncanny, +inhuman, a force of nature like a landslide, a tidal wave, or lava +sweeping down a mountain. It was not of this earth, but mysterious, +ghostlike. It carried all the mystery and menace of a fog rolling toward +you across the sea. The uniform aided this impression. In it each man +moved under a cloak of invisibility. Only after the most numerous and +severe tests at all distances, with all materials and combinations of +colors that give forth no color, could this gray have been discovered. +That it was selected to clothe and disguise the German when he +fights is typical of the General Staff, in striving for efficiency, to +leave nothing to chance, to neglect no detail. + +After you have seen this service uniform under conditions entirely +opposite you are convinced that for the German soldier it is one of his +strongest weapons. Even the most expert marksman cannot hit a +target he cannot see. It is not the blue-gray of our Confederates, but +a green-gray. It is the gray of the hour just before daybreak, the gray +of unpolished steel, of mist among green trees. + +I saw it first in the Grand Place in front of the Hôtel de Ville. It was +impossible to tell if in that noble square there was a regiment or a +brigade. You saw only a fog that melted into the stones, blended with +the ancient house fronts, that shifted and drifted, but left you nothing +at which to point. + +Later, as the army passed under the trees of the Botanical Park, it +merged and was lost against the green leaves. It is no exaggeration +to say that at a few hundred yards you can see the horses on which +the Uhlans ride but cannot see the men who ride them. + +If I appear to overemphasize this disguising uniform it is because, of +all the details of the German outfit, it appealed to me as one of the +most remarkable. When I was near Namur with the rear-guard of the +French Dragoons and Cuirassiers, and they threw out pickets, we +could distinguish them against the yellow wheat or green corse at half +a mile, while these men passing in the street, when they have +reached the next crossing, become merged into the gray of the +paving-stones and the earth swallowed them. In comparison the +yellow khaki of our own American army is about as invisible as the +flag of Spain. + +Major-General von Jarotsky, the German military governor of +Brussels, had assured Burgomaster Max that the German army +would not occupy the city but would pass through it. He told the truth. +For three days and three nights it passed. In six campaigns I have +followed other armies, but, excepting not even our own, the +Japanese, or the British, I have not seen one so thoroughly equipped. +I am not speaking of the fighting qualities of any army, only of the +equipment and organization. The German army moved into Brussels +as smoothly and as compactly as an Empire State express. There +were no halts, no open places, no stragglers. For the gray +automobiles and the gray motorcycles bearing messengers one side +of the street always was kept clear; and so compact was the column, +so rigid the vigilance of the file-closers, that at the rate of forty miles +an hour a car could race the length of the column and need not for a +single horse or man once swerve from its course. + +All through the night, like the tumult of a river when it races between +the cliffs of a canyon, in my sleep I could hear the steady roar of the +passing army. And when early in the morning I went to the window +the chain of steel was still unbroken. It was like the torrent that swept +down the Connemaugh Valley and destroyed Johnstown. As a +correspondent I have seen all the great armies and the military +processions at the coronations in Russia, England, and Spain, and +our own inaugural parades down Pennsylvania Avenue, but those +armies and processions were made up of men. This was a machine, +endless, tireless, with the delicate organization of a watch and the +brute power of a steam roller. And for three days and three nights +through Brussels it roared and rumbled, a cataract of molten lead. +The infantry marched singing, with their iron-shod boots beating out +the time. They sang "Fatherland, My Fatherland." Between each line +of song they took three steps. At times two thousand men were +singing together in absolute rhythm and beat. It was like the blows +from giant pile-drivers. When the melody gave way the silence was +broken only by the stamp of iron-shod boots, and then again the song +rose. When the singing ceased the bands played marches. They +were followed by the rumble of the howitzers, the creaking of wheels +and of chains clanking against the cobblestones, and the sharp, bell- +like voices of the bugles. + +More Uhlans followed, the hoofs of their magnificent horses ringing +like thousands of steel hammers breaking stones in a road; and after +them the giant siege-guns rumbling, growling, the mitrailleuse with +drag-chains ringing, the field-pieces with creaking axles, complaining +brakes, the grinding of the steel-rimmed wheels against the stones +echoing and re-echoing from the house front. When at night for an +instant the machine halted, the silence awoke you, as at sea you +wake when the screw stops. + +For three days and three nights the column of gray, with hundreds of +thousands of bayonets and hundreds of thousands of lances, with +gray transport wagons, gray ammunition carts, gray ambulances, +gray cannon, like a river of steel, cut Brussels in two. + +For three weeks the men had been on the march, and there was not +a single straggler, not a strap out of place, not a pennant missing. +Along the route, without for a minute halting the machine, the post- +office carts fell out of the column, and as the men marched mounted +postmen collected post-cards and delivered letters. Also, as they +marched, the cooks prepared soup, coffee, and tea, walking beside +their stoves on wheels, tending the fires, distributing the smoking +food. Seated in the motor-trucks cobblers mended boots and broken +harness; farriers on tiny anvils beat out horseshoes. No officer +followed a wrong turning, no officer asked his way. He followed the +map strapped to his side and on which for his guidance in red ink his +route was marked. At night he read this map by the light of an electric +torch buckled to his chest. + +To perfect this monstrous engine, with its pontoon bridges, its +wireless, its hospitals, its aeroplanes that in rigid alignment sailed +before it, its field telephones that, as it advanced, strung wires over +which for miles the vanguard talked to the rear, all modern inventions +had been prostituted. To feed it millions of men had been called from +homes, offices, and workshops; to guide it, for years the minds of the +high-born, with whom it is a religion and a disease, had been solely +concerned. + +It is, perhaps, the most efficient organization of modern times; and its +purpose only is death. Those who cast it loose upon Europe are +military-mad. And they are only a very small part of the German +people. But to preserve their class they have in their own image +created this terrible engine of destruction. For the present it is their +servant. But, "though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind +exceeding small." And, like Frankenstein's monster, this monster, to +which they gave life, may turn and rend them. + + + + +Chapter II +"To Be Treated As A Spy" + + + +This story is a personal experience, but is told in spite of that fact and +because it illustrates a side of war that is unfamiliar. It is unfamiliar +for the reason that it is seamy and uninviting. With bayonet charges, +bugle-calls, and aviators it has nothing in common. + +Espionage is that kind of warfare of which, even when it succeeds, no +country boasts. It is military service an officer may not refuse, but +which few seek. Its reward is prompt promotion, and its punishment, +in war time, is swift and without honor. This story is intended to show +how an army in the field must be on its guard against even a +supposed spy and how it treats him. + +The war offices of France and Russia would not permit an American +correspondent to accompany their armies; the English granted that +privilege to but one correspondent, and that gentleman already had +been chosen. So I was without credentials. To oblige Mr. Brand +Whitlock, our minister to Belgium, the government there was willing to +give me credentials, but on the day I was to receive them the +government moved to Antwerp. Then the Germans entered Brussels, +and, as no one could foresee that Belgium would heroically continue +fighting, on the chance the Germans would besiege Paris, I planned +to go to that city. To be bombarded you do not need credentials. + +For three days a steel-gray column of Germans had been sweeping +through Brussels, and to meet them, from the direction of Vincennes +and Lille, the English and French had crossed the border. It was +falsely reported that already the English had reached Hal, a town only +eleven miles from Brussels, that the night before there had been a +fight at Hal, and that close behind the English were the French. + +With Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, with whom I had +been in other wars, I planned to drive to Hal and from there on foot +continue, if possible, into the arms of the French or English. We both +were without credentials, but, once with the Allies, we believed we +would not need them. It was the Germans we doubted. To satisfy +them we had only a passport and a laissez-passer issued by General +von Jarotsky, the new German military governor of Brussels, and his +chief of staff, Lieutenant Geyer. Mine stated that I represented the +Wheeler Syndicate of American newspapers, the London Daily +Chronicle, and Scribner's Magazine, and that I could pass German +military lines in Brussels and her environs. Morgan had a pass of the +same sort. The question to be determined was: What were "environs" +and how far do they extend? How far in safety would the word carry +us forward? + +On August 23 we set forth from Brussels in a taxicab to find out. At +Hal, where we intended to abandon the cab and continue on foot, we +found out. We were arrested by a smart and most intelligent-looking +officer, who rode up to the side of the taxi and pointed an automatic at +us. We were innocently seated in a public cab, in a street crowded +with civilians and the passing column of soldiers, and why any one +should think he needed a gun only the German mind can explain. +Later, I found that all German officers introduced themselves and +made requests gun in hand. Whether it was because from every one +they believed themselves in danger or because they simply did not +know any better, I still am unable to decide. With no other army have +I seen an officer threaten with a pistol an unarmed civilian. Were an +American or English officer to act in such a fashion he might escape +looking like a fool, he certainly would feel like one. The four soldiers +the officer told off to guard us climbed with alacrity into our cab and +drove with us until the street grew too narrow both for their regiment +and our taxi, when they chose the regiment and disappeared. We +paid off the cabman and followed them. To reach the front there was +no other way, and the very openness with which we trailed along +beside their army, very much like small boys following a circus +procession, seemed to us to show how innocent was our intent. The +column stretched for fifty miles. Where it was going we did not know, +but, we argued, if it kept on going and we kept on with it, eventually +we must stumble upon a battle. The story that at Hal there had been +a fight was evidently untrue; and the manner in which the column was +advancing showed it was not expecting one. At noon it halted at +Brierges, and Morgan decided Brierges was out of bounds and that +the limits of our "environs" had been reached. + +"If we go any farther," he argued, "the next officer who reads our +papers will order us back to Brussels under arrest, and we will lose +our laissez-passer. Along this road there is no chance of seeing +anything. I prefer to keep my pass and use it in 'environs' where there +is fighting." So he returned to Brussels. I thought he was most wise, +and I wanted to return with him. But I did not want to go back only +because I knew it was the right thing to do, but to be ordered back so +that I could explain to my newspapers that I returned because +Colonel This or General That sent me back. It was a form of vanity for +which I was properly punished. That Morgan was right was +demonstrated as soon as he left me. I was seated against a tree by +the side of the road eating a sandwich, an occupation which seems +almost idyllic in its innocence but which could not deceive the +Germans. In me they saw the hated Spion, and from behind me, +across a ploughed field, four of them, each with an automatic, made +me prisoner. One of them, who was an enthusiast, pushed his gun +deep into my stomach. With the sandwich still in my hand, I held up +my arms high and asked who spoke English. It turned out that the +enthusiast spoke that language, and I suggested he did not need so +many guns and that he could find my papers in my inside pocket. +With four automatics rubbing against my ribs, I would not have +lowered my arms for all the papers in the Bank of England. They took +me to a café, where their colonel had just finished lunch and was in a +most genial humor. First he gave the enthusiast a drink as a reward +for arresting me, and then, impartially, gave me one for being +arrested. He wrote on my passport that I could go to Enghien, which +was two miles distant. That pass enabled me to proceed unmolested +for nearly two hundred yards. I was then again arrested and taken +before another group of officers. This time they searched my +knapsack and wanted to requisition my maps, but one of them +pointed out they were only automobile maps and, as compared to +their own, of no value. They permitted me to proceed to Enghien. I +went to Enghien, intending to spend the night and on the morning +continue. I could not see why I might not be able to go on indefinitely. + +As yet no one who had held me up had suggested I should turn back, +and as long as I was willing to be arrested it seemed as though I +might accompany the German army even to the gates of Paris. But +my reception in Enghien should have warned me to get back to +Brussels. The Germans, thinking I was an English spy, scowled at +me; and the Belgians, thinking the same thing, winked at me; and the +landlord of the only hotel said I was "suspect" and would not give me +a bed. But I sought out the burgomaster, a most charming man +named Delano, and he wrote out a pass permitting me to sleep one +night in Enghien. + +"You really do not need this," he said; "as an American you are free +to stay here as long as you wish." Then he, too, winked. + +"But I am an American," I protested. + +"But certainly," he said gravely, and again he winked. It was then I +should have started back to Brussels. Instead, I sat on a moss- +covered, arched stone bridge that binds the town together, and until +night fell watched the gray tidal waves rush up and across it, +stamping, tripping, stumbling, beating the broad, clean stones with +thousands of iron heels, steel hoofs, steel chains, and steel-rimmed +wheels. You hated it, and yet could not keep away. The Belgians of +Enghien hated it, and they could not keep away. Like a great river in +flood, bearing with it destruction and death, you feared and loathed it, +and yet it fascinated you and pulled you to the brink. All through the +night, as already for three nights and three days at Brussels, I had +heard it; it rumbled and growled, rushing forward without pause or +breath, with inhuman, pitiless persistence. At daybreak I sat on the +edge of the bed and wondered whether to go on or turn back. I still +wanted some one in authority, higher than myself, to order me back. +So, at six, riding for a fall, to find that one, I went, as I thought, +along the road to Soignes. The gray tidal wave was still roaring past. +It was pressing forward with greater speed, but in nothing else did +it differ from the tidal wave that had swept through Brussels. + +There was a group of officers seated by the road, and as I passed I +wished them good morning and they said good morning in return. I +had gone a hundred feet when one of them galloped after me and +asked to look at my papers. With relief I gave them to him. I was sure +now I would be told to return to Brussels. I calculated if at Hal I had +luck in finding a taxicab, by lunch time I should be in the Palace Hotel. + +"I think," said the officer, "you had better see our general. He is ahead +of us." + +I thought he meant a few hundred yards ahead, and to be ordered +back by a general seemed more convincing than to be returned by a +mere captain. So I started to walk on beside the mounted officers. +This, as it seemed to presume equality with them, scandalized them +greatly, and I was ordered into the ranks. But the one who had +arrested me thought I was entitled to a higher rating and placed me +with the color-guard, who objected to my presence so violently that a +long discussion followed, which ended with my being ranked below a +second lieutenant and above a sergeant. Between one of each of +these I was definitely placed, and for five hours I remained definitely +placed. We advanced with a rush that showed me I had surprised a +surprise movement. The fact was of interest not because I had +discovered one of their secrets, but because to keep up with the +column I was forced for five hours to move at what was a steady trot. +It was not so fast as the running step of the Italian bersagliere, but as +fast as our "double-quick." The men did not bend the knees, but, +keeping the legs straight, shot them forward with a quick, sliding +movement, like men skating or skiing. The toe of one boot seemed +always tripping on the heel of the other. As the road was paved with +roughly hewn blocks of Belgian granite this kind of going was very +strenuous, and had I not been in good shape I could not have kept +up. As it was, at the end of the five hours I had lost fifteen pounds, +which did not help me, as during the same time the knapsack had +taken on a hundred. For two days the men in the ranks had been +rushed forward at this unnatural gait and were moving like +automatons. Many of them fell by the wayside, but they were not +permitted to lie there. Instead of summoning the ambulance, they +were lifted to their feet and flung back into the ranks. Many of them +were moving in their sleep, in that partly comatose state in which you +have seen men during the last hours of a six days' walking match. +Their rules, so the sergeant said, were to halt every hour and then for +ten minutes rest. But that rule is probably only for route marching. + +On account of the speed with which the surprise movement was +made our halts were more frequent, and so exhausted were the men +that when these "thank you, ma'ams" arrived, instead of standing at +ease and adjusting their accoutrements, as though they had been +struck with a club they dropped to the stones. Some in an instant +were asleep. I do not mean that some sat down; I mean that the +whole column lay flat in the road. The officers also, those that were +not mounted, would tumble on the grass or into the wheat-field and lie +on their backs, their arms flung out like dead men. To the fact that +they were lying on their field-glasses, holsters, swords, and water- +bottles they appeared indifferent. At the rate the column moved it +would have covered thirty miles each day. It was these forced +marches that later brought Von Kluck's army to the right wing of the +Allies before the army of the crown prince was prepared to attack, +and which at Sezanne led to his repulse and to the failure of his +advance upon Paris. + +While we were pushing forward we passed a wrecked British air-ship, +around which were gathered a group of staff-officers. My papers were +given to one of them, but our column did not halt and I was not +allowed to speak. A few minutes later they passed in their +automobiles on their way to the front; and my papers went with them. +Already I was miles beyond the environs, and with each step away +from Brussels my pass was becoming less of a safeguard than a +menace. For it showed what restrictions General Jarotsky had placed +on my movements, and my presence so far out of bounds proved I +had disregarded them. But still I did not suppose that in returning to +Brussels there would be any difficulty. I was chiefly concerned with +the thought that the length of the return march was rapidly increasing +and with the fact that one of my shoes, a faithful friend in other +campaigns, had turned traitor and was cutting my foot in half. I had +started with the column at seven o'clock, and at noon an automobile, +with flags flying and the black eagle of the staff enamelled on the +door, came speeding back from the front. In it was a very blond and +distinguished-looking officer of high rank and many decorations. He +used a single eye-glass, and his politeness and his English were +faultless. He invited me to accompany him to the general staff. + +That was the first intimation I had that I was in danger. I saw they +were giving me far too much attention. I began instantly to work to set +myself free, and there was not a minute for the next twenty-four hours +that I was not working. Before I stepped into the car I had decided +upon my line of defence. I would pretend to be entirely unconscious +that I had in any way laid myself open to suspicion; that I had erred +through pure stupidity and that I was where I was solely because I +was a damn fool. I began to act like a damn fool. Effusively I +expressed my regret at putting the General Staff to inconvenience. + +"It was really too stupid of me," I said. "I cannot forgive myself. I +should not have come so far without asking Jarotsky for proper +papers. I am extremely sorry I have given you this trouble. I would like +to see the general and assure him I will return at once to Brussels." I +ignored the fact that I was being taken to the general at the rate of +sixty miles an hour. The blond officer smiled uneasily and with his +single glass studied the sky. When we reached the staff he escaped +from me with the alacrity of one released from a disagreeable and +humiliating duty. The staff were at luncheon, seated in their luxurious +motor-cars or on the grass by the side of the road. On the other side +of the road the column of dust-covered gray ghosts were being +rushed past us. The staff, in dress uniforms, flowing cloaks, and +gloves, belonged to a different race. They knew that. Among +themselves they were like priests breathing incense. Whenever one +of them spoke to another they saluted, their heels clicked, their +bodies bent at the belt line. + +One of them came to where, in the middle of the road, I was stranded +and trying not to feel as lonely as I looked. He was much younger +than myself and dark and handsome. His face was smooth-shaven, +his figure tall, lithe, and alert. He wore a uniform of light blue and +silver that clung to him and high boots of patent leather. His waist was +like a girl's, and, as though to show how supple he was, he kept +continually bowing and shrugging his shoulders and in elegant protest +gesticulating with his gloved hands. He should have been a moving- +picture actor. He reminded me of Anthony Hope's fascinating but +wicked Rupert of Hentzau. He certainly was wicked, and I got to hate +him as I never imagined it possible to hate anybody. He had been +told off to dispose of my case, and he delighted in it. He enjoyed it as +a cat enjoys playing with a mouse. As actors say, he saw himself in +the part. He "ate" it. + +"You are an English officer out of uniform," he began. "You have +been taken inside our lines." He pointed his forefinger at my stomach +and wiggled his thumb. "And you know what that means!" + +I saw playing the damn fool with him would be waste of time. + +"I followed your army," I told him, "because it's my business to follow +armies and because yours is the best-looking army I ever saw." He +made me one of his mocking bows. + +"We thank you," he said, grinning. "But you have seen too much." + +"I haven't seen anything," I said, "that everybody in Brussels hasn't +seen for three days." + +He shook his head reproachfully and with a gesture signified the +group of officers. + +"You have seen enough in this road," he said, "to justify us in +shooting you now." + +The sense of drama told him it was a good exit line, and he returned +to the group of officers. I now saw what had happened. At Enghien I +had taken the wrong road. I remembered that, to confuse the +Germans, the names on the sign-post at the edge of the town had +been painted out, and that instead of taking the road to Soignes I was +on the road to Ath. What I had seen, therefore, was an army corps +making a turning movement intended to catch the English on their +right and double them up upon their centre. The success of this +manœuvre depended upon the speed with which it was executed and +upon its being a complete surprise. As later in the day I learned, the +Germans thought I was an English officer who had followed them +from Brussels and who was trying to slip past them and warn his +countrymen. What Rupert of Hentzau meant by what I had seen on +the road was that, having seen the Count de Schwerin, who +commanded the Seventh Division, on the road to Ath, I must +necessarily know that the army corps to which he was attached had +separated from the main army of Von Kluck, and that, in going so far +south at such speed, it was bent upon an attack on the English flank. +All of which at the time I did not know and did not want to know. All I +wanted was to prove I was not an English officer, but an American +correspondent who by accident had stumbled upon their secret. To +convince them of that, strangely enough, was difficult. + +When Rupert of Hentzau returned the other officers were with him, +and, fortunately for me, they spoke or understood English. For the +rest of the day what followed was like a legal argument. It was as +cold-blooded as a game of bridge. Rupert of Hentzau wanted an +English spy shot for his supper; just as he might have desired a +grilled bone. He showed no personal animus, and, I must say for him, +that he conducted the case for the prosecution without heat or anger. +He mocked me, grilled and taunted me, but he was always +charmingly polite. + +As Whitman said, "I want Becker," so Rupert said, "Fe, fo, fi, fum, I +want the blood of an Englishman." He was determined to get it. I was +even more interested that he should not. The points he made against +me were that my German pass was signed neither by General +Jarotsky nor by Lieutenant Geyer, but only stamped, and that any +rubber stamp could be forged; that my American passport had not +been issued at Washington, but in London, where an Englishman +might have imposed upon our embassy; and that in the photograph +pasted on the passport I was wearing the uniform of a British officer. I +explained that the photograph was taken eight years ago, and that +the uniform was one I had seen on the west coast of Africa, worn by +the West African Field Force. Because it was unlike any known +military uniform, and as cool and comfortable as a golf jacket, I had +had it copied. But since that time it had been adopted by the English +Brigade of Guards and the Territorials. I knew it sounded like fiction; +but it was quite true. + +Rupert of Hentzau smiled delightedly. + +"Do you expect us to believe that?" he protested. + +"Listen," I said. "If you could invent an explanation for that uniform as +quickly as I told you that one, standing in a road with eight officers +trying to shoot you, you would be the greatest general in Germany." + +That made the others laugh; and Rupert retorted: "Very well, then, we +will concede that the entire British army has changed its uniform to +suit your photograph. But if you are not an officer, why, in the +photograph, are you wearing war ribbons?" + +I said the war ribbons were in my favor, and I pointed out that no +officer of any one country could have been in the different campaigns +for which the ribbons were issued. + +"They prove," I argued, "that I am a correspondent, for only a +correspondent could have been in wars in which his own country was +not engaged." + +I thought I had scored; but Rupert instantly turned my own witness +against me. + +"Or a military attaché," he said. At that they all smiled and nodded +knowingly. + +He followed this up by saying, accusingly, that the hat and clothes I +was then wearing were English. The clothes were English, but I knew +he did not know that, and was only guessing; and there were no +marks on them. About my hat I was not certain. It was a felt Alpine +hat, and whether I had bought it in London or New York I could not +remember. Whether it was evidence for or against I could not be +sure. So I took it off and began to fan myself with it, hoping to get a +look at the name of the maker. But with the eyes of the young +prosecuting attorney fixed upon me, I did not dare take a chance. +Then, to aid me, a German aeroplane passed overhead, and +those who were giving me the third degree looked up. I stopped +fanning myself and cast a swift glance inside the hat. To my intense +satisfaction I read, stamped on the leather lining: "Knox, New York." + +I put the hat back on my head and a few minutes later pulled it off and +said: "Now, for instance, my hat. If I were an Englishman would I +cross the ocean to New York to buy a hat?" + +It was all like that. They would move away and whisper together, and +I would try to guess what questions they were preparing. I had to +arrange my defence without knowing in what way they would try to trip +me, and I had to think faster than I ever have thought before. I had no +more time to be scared, or to regret my past sins, than has a man in +a quicksand. So far as I could make out, they were divided in opinion +concerning me. Rupert of Hentzau, who was the adjutant or the chief +of staff, had only one simple thought, which was to shoot me. Others +considered me a damn fool; I could hear them laughing and saying: +"Er ist ein dummer Mensch." And others thought that whether I was a +fool or not, or an American or an Englishman, was not the question; I +had seen too much and should be put away. I felt if, instead of having +Rupert act as my interpreter, I could personally speak to the general I +might talk my way out of it, but Rupert assured me that to set me free +the Count de Schwerin lacked authority, and that my papers, which +were all against me, must be submitted to the general of the army +corps, and we would not reach him until midnight. + +"And then!--" he would exclaim, and he would repeat his pantomime +of pointing his forefinger at my stomach and wiggling his thumb. He +was very popular with me. + +Meanwhile they were taking me farther away from Brussels and the +"environs." + +"When you picked me up," I said, "I was inside the environs, but by +the time I reach 'the' general he will see only that I am fifty miles +beyond where I am permitted to be. And who is going to tell him it +was you brought me there? You won't!" + +Rupert of Hentzau only smiled like the cat that has just swallowed the +canary. + +He put me in another automobile and they whisked me off, always +going farther from Brussels, to Ath and then to Ligne, a little town five +miles south. Here they stopped at a house the staff occupied, and, +leading me to the second floor, put me in an empty room that +seemed built for their purpose. It had a stone floor and whitewashed +walls and a window so high that even when standing you could see +only the roof of another house and a weather-vane. They threw two +bundles of wheat on the floor and put a sentry at the door with orders +to keep it open. He was a wild man, and thought I was, and every +time I moved his automatic moved with me. It was as though he were +following me with a spotlight. My foot was badly cut across the instep +and I was altogether forlorn and disreputable. So, in order to look less +like a tramp when I met the general, I bound up the foot, and, always +with one eye on the sentry, and moving very slowly, shaved and put +on dry things. From the interest the sentry showed it seemed evident +he never had taken a bath himself, nor had seen any one else take +one, and he was not quite easy in his mind that he ought to allow it. +He seemed to consider it a kind of suicide. I kept on thinking out +plans, and when an officer appeared I had one to submit. I offered to +give the money I had with me to any one who would motor back to +Brussels and take a note to the American minister, Brand Whitlock. +My proposition was that if in five hours, or by seven o'clock, he did not +arrive in his automobile and assure them that what I said about +myself was true, they need not wait until midnight, but could shoot me +then. + +"If I am willing to take such a chance," I pointed out, "I must be a +friend of Mr. Whitlock. If he repudiates me, it will be evident I have +deceived you, and you will be perfectly justified in carrying out your +plan." I had a note to Whitlock already written. It was composed +entirely with the idea that they would read it, and it was much more +intimate than my very brief acquaintance with that gentleman justified. +But from what I have seen and heard of the ex-mayor of Toledo I felt +he would stand for it. + +The note read: + + +"Dear Brand: + +"I am detained in a house with a garden where the railroad passes +through the village of Ligne. Please come quick, or send some one in +the legation automobile. + +"Richard." + + +The officer to whom I gave this was Major Alfred Wurth, a reservist +from Bernburg, on the Saale River. I liked him from the first because +after we had exchanged a few words he exclaimed incredulously: +"What nonsense! Any one could tell by your accent that you are an +American." He explained that, when at the university, in the same +pension with him were three Americans. + +"The staff are making a mistake," he said earnestly. "They will regret +it." + +I told him that I not only did not want them to regret it, but I did not +want them to make it, and I begged him to assure the staff that I was +an American. I suggested also that he tell them, if anything happened +to me there were other Americans who would at once declare war on +Germany. The number of these other Americans I overestimated by +about ninety millions, but it was no time to consider details. + +He asked if the staff might read the letter to the American minister, +and, though I hated to deceive him, I pretended to consider this. + +"I don't remember just what I wrote," I said, and, to make sure they +would read it, I tore open the envelope and pretended to reread the +letter. + +"I will see what I can do," said Major Wurth; "meanwhile, do not be +discouraged. Maybe it will come out all right for you." + +After he left me the Belgian gentleman who owned the house and his +cook brought me some food. She was the only member of his +household who had not deserted him, and together they were serving +the staff-officers, he acting as butler, waiter, and valet. The cock was +an old peasant woman with a ruffled white cap, and when she left, in +spite of the sentry, she patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. The +owner of the house was more discreet, and contented himself with +winking at me and whispering: "Ça va mal pour vous en bas!" As they +both knew what was being said of me downstairs, their visit did not +especially enliven me. Major Wurth returned and said the staff could +not spare any one to go to Brussels, but that my note had been +forwarded to "the" general. That was as much as I had hoped for. It +was intended only as a "stay of proceedings." But the manner of the +major was not reassuring. He kept telling me that he thought they +would set me free, but even as he spoke tears would come to his +eyes and roll slowly down his cheeks. It was most disconcerting. After +a while it grew dark and he brought me a candle and left me, taking +with him, much to my relief, the sentry and his automatic. This gave +me since my arrest my first moment alone, and, to find anything that +might further incriminate or help me, I used it in going rapidly through +my knapsack and pockets. My note-book was entirely favorable. In it +there was no word that any German could censor. My only other +paper was a letter, of which all day I had been conscious. It was one +of introduction from Colonel Theodore Roosevelt to President +Poincaré, and whether the Germans would consider it a clean bill of +health or a death-warrant I could not make up my mind. Half a dozen +times I had been on the point of saying: "Here is a letter from the man +your Kaiser delighted to honor, the only civilian who ever reviewed +the German army, a former President of the United States." + +But I could hear Rupert of Hentzau replying: "Yes, and it is +recommending you to our enemy, the President of France!" + +I knew that Colonel Roosevelt would have written a letter to the +German Emperor as impartially as to M. Poincaré, but I knew also +that Rupert of Hentzau would not believe that. So I decided to keep +the letter back until the last moment. If it was going to help me, it still +would be effective; if it went against me, I would be just as dead. I +began to think out other plans. Plans of escape were foolish. I could +have crawled out of the window to the rain gutter, but before I had +reached the rooftree I would have been shot. And bribing the sentry, +even were he willing to be insulted, would not have taken me farther +than the stairs, where there were other sentries. I was more safe +inside the house than out. They still had my passport and laissez- +passer, and without a pass one could not walk a hundred yards. As +the staff had but one plan, and no time in which to think of a better +one, the obligation to invent a substitute plan lay upon me. The plan I +thought out and which later I outlined to Major Wurth was this: Instead +of putting me away at midnight, they would give me a pass back to +Brussels. The pass would state that I was a suspected spy and that if +before midnight of the 26th of August I were found off the direct road +to Brussels, or if by that hour I had not reported to the military +governor of Brussels, any one could shoot me on sight. As I have +stated, without showing a pass no one could move a hundred yards, +and every time I showed my pass to a German it would tell him I was +a suspected spy, and if I were not making my way in the right +direction he had his orders. With such a pass I was as much a +prisoner as in the room at Ligne, and if I tried to evade its conditions I +was as good as dead. The advantages of my plan, as I urged them +upon Major Wurth, were that it prevented the General Staff from +shooting an innocent man, which would have greatly distressed them, +and were he not innocent would still enable them, after a reprieve of +two days, to shoot him. The distance to Brussels was about fifty +miles, which, as it was impossible for a civilian to hire a bicycle, +motor-car, or cart, I must cover on foot, making twenty-five miles a +day. Major Wurth heartily approved of my substitute plan, and added +that he thought if any motor-trucks or ambulances were returning +empty to Brussels, I should be permitted to ride in one of them. He +left me, and I never saw him again. It was then about eight o'clock, +and as the time passed and he did not return and midnight grew +nearer, I began to feel very lonely. Except for the Roosevelt letter, I +had played my last card. + +As it grew later I persuaded myself they did not mean to act until +morning, and I stretched out on the straw and tried to sleep. At +midnight I was startled by the light of an electric torch. It was strapped +to the chest of an officer, who ordered me to get up and come with +him. He spoke only German, and he seemed very angry. The owner +of the house and the old cook had shown him to my room, but they +stood in the shadow without speaking. Nor, fearing I might +compromise them--for I could not see why, except for one purpose, +they were taking me out into the night--did I speak to them. We got +into another motor-car and in silence drove north from Ligne down a +country road to a great château that stood in a magnificent park. +Something had gone wrong with the lights of the château, and its hall +was lit only by candles that showed soldiers sleeping like dead men +on bundles of wheat and others leaping up and down the marble +stairs. They put me in a huge armchair of silk and gilt, with two of the +gray ghosts to guard me, and from the hall, when the doors of the +drawing-room opened, I could see a long table on which were +candles in silver candlesticks or set on plates, and many maps and +half-empty bottles of champagne. Around the table, standing or +seated, and leaning across the maps, were staff-officers in brilliant +uniforms. They were much older men and of higher rank than any I +had yet seen. They were eating, drinking, gesticulating. In spite of the +tumult, some, in utter weariness, were asleep. It was like a picture of +1870 by Détaille or De Neuville. Apparently, at last I had reached the +headquarters of the mysterious general. I had arrived at what, for a +suspected spy, was an inopportune moment. The Germans themselves +had been surprised, or somewhere south of us had met with a +reverse, and the air was vibrating with excitement and something +very like panic. Outside, at great speed and with sirens shrieking, +automobiles were arriving, and I could hear the officers shouting: +"Die Englischen kommen!" + +To make their reports they flung themselves up the steps, the electric +torches, like bull's-eye lanterns, burning holes in the night. Seeing a +civilian under guard, they would stare and ask questions. Even when +they came close, owing to the light in my eyes, I could not see them. +Sometimes, in a half circle, there would be six or eight of the electric +torches blinding me, and from behind them voices barking at me with +strange, guttural noises. Much they said I could not understand, +much I did not want to understand, but they made it quite clear it was +no fit place for an Englishman. + +When the door from the drawing-room opened and Rupert of +Hentzau appeared, I was almost glad to see him. + +Whenever he spoke to me he always began or ended his sentence +with "Mr. Davis." He gave it an emphasis and meaning which was +intended to show that he knew it was not my name. I would not have +thought it possible to put so much insolence into two innocent words. +It was as though he said: "Mr. Davis, alias Jimmy Valentine." He +certainly would have made a great actor. + +"Mr. Davis," he said, "you are free." + +He did not look as disappointed as I knew he would feel if I were free, +so I waited for what was to follow. + +"You are free," he said, "under certain conditions." The conditions +seemed to cheer him. He recited the conditions. They were those I +had outlined to Major Wurth. But I am sure Rupert of Hentzau did not +guess that. Apparently, he believed Major Wurth had thought of +them, and I did not undeceive him. For the substitute plan I was not +inclined to rob that officer of any credit. I felt then, and I feel now, +that but for him and his interceding for me I would have been left +in the road. Rupert of Hentzau gave me the pass. It said I must +return to Brussels by way of Ath, Enghien, Hal, and that I must report +to the military governor on the 26th or "be treated as a spy"--"so wird +er als Spion behandelt." The pass, literally translated, reads: + +"The American reporter Davis must at once return to Brussels via +Ath, Enghien, Hal, and report to the government at the latest on +August 26th. If he is met on any other road, or after the 26th of +August, he will be handled as a spy. Automobiles returning to +Brussels, if they can unite it with their duty, can carry him." + +"CHIEF OF GENERAL STAFF." +"VON GREGOR, Lieutenant-Colonel." + +Fearing my military education was not sufficient to enable me to +appreciate this, for the last time Rupert stuck his forefinger in my +stomach and repeated cheerfully: "And you know what that means. +And you will start," he added, with a most charming smile, "in three +hours." + +He was determined to have his grilled bone. + +"At three in the morning!" I cried. "You might as well take me out and +shoot me now!" + +"You will start in three hours," he repeated. + +"A man wandering around at that hour," I protested, "wouldn't live five +minutes. It can't be done. You couldn't do it." He continued to grin. I +knew perfectly well the general had given no such order, and that it +was a cat-and-mouse act of Rupert's own invention, and he knew I +knew it. But he repeated: "You will start in three hours, Mr. Davis." + +I said: "I am going to write about this, and I would like you to read +what I write. What is your name?" + +He said: "I am the Baron von"--it sounded like "Hossfer"--and, in any +case, to that name, care of General de Schwerin of the Seventh +Division, I shall mail this book. I hope the Allies do not kill Rupert of +Hentzau before he reads it! After that! He would have made a great +actor. + +They put me in the automobile and drove me back to Ligne and the +impromptu cell. But now it did not seem like a cell. Since I had last +occupied it my chances had so improved that returning to the candle +on the floor and the bundles of wheat was like coming home. Though +I did not believe Rupert had any authority to order me into the night at +the darkest hour of the twenty-four, I was taking no chances. My +nerve was not in a sufficiently robust state for me to disobey any +German. So, lest I should oversleep, until three o'clock I paced the +cell, and then, with all the terrors of a burglar, tiptoed down the stairs. +There was no light, and the house was wrapped in silence. + +Earlier there had been everywhere sentries, and, not daring to +breathe, I waited for one of them to challenge, but, except for the +creaking of the stairs and of my ankle-bones, which seemed to +explode like firecrackers, there was not a sound. I was afraid, and +wished myself safely back in my cell, but I was more afraid of Rupert, +and I kept on feeling my way until I had reached the garden. There +some one spoke to me in French, and I found my host. + +"The animals have gone," he said; "all of them. I will give you a bed +now, and when it is light you shall have breakfast." I told him my +orders were to leave his house at three. + +"But it is murder!" he said. With these cheering words in my ears, I +thanked him, and he bid me bonne chance. + +In my left hand I placed the pass, folded so that the red seal of the +General Staff would show, and a match-box. In the other hand I held +ready a couple of matches. Each time a sentry challenged I struck +the matches on the box and held them in front of the red seal. The +instant the matches flashed it was a hundred to one that the man +would shoot, but I could not speak German, and there was no other +way to make him understand. They were either too surprised or too +sleepy to fire, for each of them let me pass. But after I had made a +mark of myself three times I lost my nerve and sought cover behind a +haystack. I lay there until there was light enough to distinguish trees +and telegraph-poles, and then walked on to Ath. After that, when they +stopped me, if they could not read, the red seal satisfied them; if they +were officers and could read, they cursed me with strange, unclean +oaths, and ordered me, in the German equivalent, to beat it. It was a +delightful walk. I had had no sleep the night before and had eaten +nothing, and, though I had cut away most of my shoe, I could hardly +touch my foot to the road. Whenever in the villages I tried to bribe any +one to carry my knapsack or to give me food, the peasants ran from +me. They thought I was a German and talked Flemish, not French. I +was more afraid of them and their shotguns than of the Germans, +and I never entered a village unless German soldiers were entering +or leaving it. And the Germans gave me no reason to feel free from +care. Every time they read my pass they were inclined to try me all +over again, and twice searched my knapsack. + +After that happened the second time I guessed my letter to the +President of France might prove a menace, and, tearing it into little +pieces, dropped it over a bridge, and with regret watched that +historical document from the ex-President of one republic to the +President of another float down the Sambre toward the sea. By noon +I decided I would not be able to make the distance. For twenty-four +hours I had been without sleep or food, and I had been put through +an unceasing third degree, and I was nearly out. Added to that, the +chance of my losing the road was excellent; and if I lost the road the +first German who read my pass was ordered by it to shoot me. So I +decided to give myself up to the occupants of the next German car +going toward Brussels and ask them to carry me there under arrest. I +waited until an automobile approached, and then stood in front of it +and held up my pass and pointed to the red seal. The car stopped, +and the soldiers in front and the officer in the rear seat gazed at me in +indignant amazement. The officer was a general, old and kindly +looking, and, by the grace of Heaven, as slow-witted as he was kind. +He spoke no English, and his French was as bad as mine, and in +consequence he had no idea of what I was saying except that I had +orders from the General Staff to proceed at once to Brussels. I made +a mystery of the pass, saying it was very confidential, but the red seal +satisfied him. He bade me courteously to take the seat at his side, +and with intense satisfaction I heard him command his orderly to get +down and fetch my knapsack. The general was going, he said, only +so far as Hal, but that far he would carry me. Hal was the last town +named in my pass, and from Brussels only eleven miles distant. +According to the schedule I had laid out for myself, I had not hoped to +reach it by walking until the next day, but at the rate the car had +approached I saw I would be there within two hours. My feelings +when I sank back upon the cushions of that car and stretched out my +weary legs and the wind whistled around us are too sacred for cold +print. It was a situation I would not have used in fiction. I was a +condemned spy, with the hand of every German properly against me, +and yet under the protection of a German general, and in luxurious +ease, I was escaping from them at forty miles an hour. I had but one +regret. I wanted Rupert of Hentzau to see me. At Hal my luck still +held. The steps of the Hôtel de Ville were crowded with generals. I +thought never in the world could there be so many generals, so many +flowing cloaks and spiked helmets. I was afraid of them. I was afraid +that when my general abandoned me the others might not prove so +slow-witted or so kind. My general also seemed to regard them with +disfavor. He exclaimed impatiently. Apparently, to force his way +through them, to cool his heels in an anteroom, did not appeal. It was +long past his luncheon hour and the restaurant of the Palace Hotel +called him. He gave a sharp order to the chauffeur. + +"I go on to Brussels," he said. "Desire you to accompany me?" I did +not know how to ask him in French not to make me laugh. I saw the +great Palace of Justice that towers above the city with the same +emotions that one beholds the Statue of Liberty, but not until we had +reached the inner boulevards did I feel safe. There I bade my friend a +grateful but hasty adieu, and in a taxicab, unwashed and unbrushed, I +drove straight to the American legation. To Mr. Whitlock I told this +story, and with one hand that gentleman reached for his hat and with +the other for his stick. In the automobile of the legation we raced to +the Hôtel de Ville. There Mr. Whitlock, as the moving-picture people +say, "registered" indignation. Mr. Davis was present, he made it +understood, not as a ticket-of-leave man, and because he had been +ordered to report, but in spite of that fact. He was there as the friend +of the American minister, and the word "Spion" must be removed +from his papers. + +And so, on the pass that Rupert gave me, below where he had +written that I was to be treated as a spy, they wrote I was "not at all," +"gar nicht," to be treated as a spy, and that I was well known to the +American minister, and to that they affixed the official seal. + +That ended it, leaving me with one valuable possession. It is this: +should any one suggest that I am a spy, or that I am not a friend of +Brand Whitlock, I have the testimony of the Imperial German +Government to the contrary. + + + + +Chapter III +The Burning Of Louvain + + + +After the Germans occupied Brussels they closed the road to Aix-la- +Chapelle. A week later, to carry their wounded and prisoners, they +reopened it. But for eight days Brussels was isolated. The mail-trains +and the telegraph office were in the hands of the invaders. They +accepted our cables, censored them, and three days later told us, if +we still wished, we could forward them. But only from Holland. By this +they accomplished three things: they learned what we were writing +about them, for three days prevented any news from leaving the city, +and offered us an inducement to visit Holland, so getting rid of us. + +The despatches of those diplomats who still remained in Brussels +were treated in the same manner. With the most cheerful +complacency the military authorities blue-pencilled their despatches +to their governments. When the diplomats learned of this, with their +code cables they sent open cables stating that their confidential +despatches were being censored and delayed. They still were +delayed. To get any message out of Brussels it was necessary to use +an automobile, and nearly every automobile had taken itself off to +Antwerp. If a motor-car appeared it was at once commandeered. This +was true also of horses and bicycles. All over Brussels you saw +delivery wagons, private carriages, market carts with the shafts empty +and the horse and harness gone. After three days a German soldier +who did not own a bicycle was poor indeed. + +Requisitions were given for these machines, stating they would be +returned after the war, by which time they will be ready for the scrap- +heap. Any one on a bicycle outside the city was arrested, so the only +way to get messages through was by going on foot to Ostend or +Holland, or by an automobile for which the German authorities +had given a special pass. As no one knew when one of these +automobiles might start, we carried always with us our cables and +letters, and intrusted them to any stranger who was trying to run the +lines. + +No one wished to carry our despatches, as he feared they might +contain something unfavorable to the Germans, which, if he were +arrested and the cables read, might bring him into greater trouble. +Money for himself was no inducement. But I found if I gave money for +the Red Cross no one would refuse it, or to carry the messages. + +Three out of four times the stranger would be arrested and ordered +back to Brussels, and our despatches, with their news value +departed, would be returned. + +An account of the Germans entering Brussels I sent by an English +boy named Dalton, who, after being turned back three times, got +through by night, and when he arrived in England his adventures +were published in all the London papers. They were so thrilling that +they made my story, for which he had taken the trip, extremely tame +reading. + +Hugh Gibson, secretary of the American legation, was the first person +in an official position to visit Antwerp after the Belgian Government +moved to that city, and, even with his passes and flag flying from his +automobile, he reached Antwerp and returned to Brussels only after +many delays and adventures. Not knowing the Belgians were +advancing from the north, Gibson and his American flag were several +times under fire, and on the days he chose for his excursion his route +led him past burning towns and dead and wounded and between the +lines of both forces actively engaged. + +He was carrying despatches from Brand Whitlock to Secretary Bryan. +During the night he rested at Antwerp the first Zeppelin air-ship to visit +that city passed over it, dropping one bomb at the end of the block in +which Gibson was sleeping. He was awakened by the explosion and +heard all of those that followed. + +The next morning he was requested to accompany a committee +appointed by the Belgian Government to report upon the outrage, +and he visited a house that had been wrecked, and saw what was left +of the bodies of those killed. People who were in the streets when the +air-ship passed said it moved without any sound, as though the motor +had been shut off and it was being propelled by momentum. + +One bomb fell so near the palace where the Belgian Queen was +sleeping as to destroy the glass in the windows and scar the walls. +The bombs were large, containing smaller bombs of the size of +shrapnel. Like shrapnel, on impact they scattered bullets over a +radius of forty yards. One man, who from a window in the eighth story +of a hotel watched the air-ship pass, stated that before each bomb fell +he saw electric torches signal from the roofs, as though giving +directions as to where the bombs should strike. + +After my arrest by the Germans, I found my usefulness in Brussels as +a correspondent was gone, and I returned to London, and from there +rejoined the Allies in Paris. + +I left Brussels on August 27th with Gerald Morgan and Will Irwin, of +Collier's, on a train carrying English prisoners and German wounded. +In times of peace the trip to the German border lasts three hours, but +in making it we were twenty-six hours, and by order of the authorities +we were forbidden to leave the train. + +Carriages with cushions naturally were reserved for the wounded, so +we slept on wooden benches and on the floor. It was not possible to +obtain food, and water was as scarce. At Graesbeek, ten miles from +Brussels, we first saw houses on fire. They continued with us to +Liege. + +Village after village had been completely wrecked. In his march to the +sea Sherman lived on the country. He did not destroy it, and as +against the burning of Columbia must be placed to the discredit of the +Germans the wiping out of an entire countryside. + +For many miles we saw procession after procession of peasants +fleeing from one burning village, which had been their home, to other +villages, to find only blackened walls and smouldering ashes. In no +part of northern Europe is there a countryside fairer than that +between Aix-la-Chapelle and Brussels, but the Germans had made of +it a graveyard. It looked as though a cyclone had uprooted its houses, +gardens, and orchards and a prairie fire had followed. + +At seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at what for six hundred +years had been the city of Louvain. The Germans were burning it, +and to hide their work kept us locked in the railroad carriages. But the +story was written against the sky, was told to us by German soldiers +incoherent with excesses; and we could read it in the faces of women +and children being led to concentration camps and of citizens on their +way to be shot. + +The day before the Germans had sentenced Louvain to become a +wilderness, and with German system and love of thoroughness they +left Louvain an empty, blackened shell. The reason for this appeal to +the torch and the execution of non-combatants, as given to Mr. +Whitlock and myself on the morning I left Brussels by General von +Lutwitz, the military governor, was this: The day before, while the +German military commander of the troops in Louvain was at the Hôtel +de Ville talking to the burgomaster, a son of the burgomaster, with an +automatic pistol, shot the chief of staff and German staff surgeons. + +Lutwitz claimed this was the signal for the civil guard, in civilian +clothes on the roofs, to fire upon the German soldiers in the open +square below. He said also the Belgians had quick-firing guns, +brought from Antwerp. As for a week the Germans had occupied +Louvain and closely guarded all approaches, the story that there was +any gun-running is absurd. + +"Fifty Germans were killed and wounded," said Lutwitz, "and for that +Louvain must be wiped out--so!" In pantomime with his fist he swept +the papers across his table. + +"The Hôtel de Ville," he added, "was a beautiful building; it is a pity it +must be destroyed." + +Were he telling us his soldiers had destroyed a kitchen-garden, his +tone could not have expressed less regret. + +Ten days before I had been in Louvain, when it was occupied by +Belgian troops and King Albert and his staff. The city dates from the +eleventh century, and the population was forty-two thousand. The +citizens were brewers, lace-makers, and manufacturers of ornaments +for churches. The university once was the most celebrated in +European cities and was the headquarters of the Jesuits. + +In the Louvain College many priests now in America have been +educated, and ten days before, over the great yellow walls of the +college, I had seen hanging two American flags. I had found the city +clean, sleepy, and pretty, with narrow, twisting streets and smart +shops and cafés. Set in flower gardens were the houses, with red +roofs, green shutters, and white walls. + +Over those that faced south had been trained pear-trees, their +branches, heavy with fruit, spread out against the walls like branches +of candelabra. The town hall was an example of Gothic architecture, +in detail and design more celebrated even than the town hall of +Bruges or Brussels. It was five hundred years old, and lately had +been repaired with taste and at great cost. + +Opposite was the Church of St. Pierre, dating from the fifteenth +century, a very noble building, with many chapels filled with carvings +of the time of the Renaissance in wood, stone, and iron. In the +university were one hundred and fifty thousand volumes. + +Near it was the bronze statue of Father Damien, priest of the leper +colony in the South Pacific, of whom Robert Louis Stevenson wrote. + +On the night of the 27th these buildings were empty, exploded +cartridges. Statues, pictures, carvings, parchments, archives--all +these were gone. + +No one defends the sniper. But because ignorant Mexicans, when +their city was invaded, fired upon our sailors, we did not destroy Vera +Cruz. Even had we bombarded Vera Cruz, money could have +restored that city. Money can never restore Louvain. Great architects +and artists, dead these six hundred years, made it beautiful, and their +handiwork belonged to the world. With torch and dynamite the +Germans turned those masterpieces into ashes, and all the Kaiser's +horses and all his men cannot bring them back again. + +When our troop train reached Louvain, the entire heart of the city was +destroyed, and the fire had reached the Boulevard Tirlemont, which +faces the railroad station. The night was windless, and the sparks +rose in steady, leisurely pillars, falling back into the furnace from +which they sprang. In their work the soldiers were moving from the +heart of the city to the outskirts, street by street, from house to house. + +In each building they began at the first floor and, when that was +burning steadily, passed to the one next. There were no exceptions-- +whether it was a store, chapel, or private residence, it was destroyed. +The occupants had been warned to go, and in each deserted shop or +house the furniture was piled, the torch was stuck under it, and into +the air went the savings of years, souvenirs of children, of parents, +heirlooms that had passed from generation to generation. + +The people had time only to fill a pillowcase and fly. Some were not +so fortunate, and by thousands, like flocks of sheep, they were +rounded up and marched through the night to concentration camps. +We were not allowed to speak to any citizen of Louvain, but the +Germans crowded the windows of the train, boastful, gloating, eager +to interpret. + +In the two hours during which the train circled the burning city war +was before us in its most hateful aspect. + +In other wars I have watched men on one hilltop, without haste, +without heat, fire at men on another hill, and in consequence on both +sides good men were wasted. But in those fights there were no +women or children, and the shells struck only vacant stretches of +veldt or uninhabited mountain sides. + +At Louvain it was war upon the defenceless, war upon churches, +colleges, shops of milliners and lace-makers; war brought to the +bedside and the fireside; against women harvesting in the fields, +against children in wooden shoes at play in the streets. + +At Louvain that night the Germans were like men after an orgy. + +There were fifty English prisoners, erect and soldierly. In the ocean of +gray the little patch of khaki looked pitifully lonely, but they regarded +the men who had outnumbered but not defeated them with calm, +uncurious eyes. In one way I was glad to see them there. Later they +will bear witness. They will tell how the enemy makes a wilderness +and calls it war. It was a most weird picture. On the high ground rose +the broken spires of the Church of St. Pierre and the Hôtel de Ville, +and descending like steps were row beneath row of houses, roofless, +with windows like blind eyes. The fire had reached the last row of +houses, those on the Boulevard de Jodigne. Some of these were +already cold, but others sent up steady, straight columns of flame. In +others at the third and fourth stories the window curtains still hung, +flowers still filled the window-boxes, while on the first floor the torch +had just passed and the flames were leaping. Fire had destroyed the +electric plant, but at times the flames made the station so light that +you could see the second-hand of your watch, and again all was +darkness, lit only by candles. + +You could tell when an officer passed by the electric torch he carried +strapped to his chest. In the darkness the gray uniforms filled the +station with an army of ghosts. You distinguished men only when +pipes hanging from their teeth glowed red or their bayonets flashed. + +Outside the station in the public square the people of Louvain passed +in an unending procession, women bareheaded, weeping, men +carrying the children asleep on their shoulders, all hemmed in by the +shadowy army of gray wolves. Once they were halted, and among +them were marched a line of men. These were on their way to be +shot. And, better to point the moral, an officer halted both processions +and, climbing to a cart, explained why the men were to die. He +warned others not to bring down upon themselves a like vengeance. + +As those being led to spend the night in the fields looked across to +those marked for death they saw old friends, neighbors of long +standing, men of their own household. The officer bellowing at them +from the cart was illuminated by the headlights of an automobile. He +looked like an actor held in a spotlight on a darkened stage. + +It was all like a scene upon the stage, unreal, inhuman. You felt it +could not be true. You felt that the curtain of fire, purring and crackling +and sending up hot sparks to meet the kind, calm stars, was only a +painted backdrop; that the reports of rifles from the dark ruins came +from blank cartridges, and that these trembling shopkeepers and +peasants ringed in bayonets would not in a few minutes really die, but +that they themselves and their homes would be restored to their +wives and children. + +You felt it was only a nightmare, cruel and uncivilized. And then you +remembered that the German Emperor has told us what it is. It is his +Holy War. + + + + +Chapter IV +Paris In War Time + + + +Those who, when the Germans approached, fled from Paris, +described it as a city doomed, as a waste place, desolate as a +graveyard. Those who run away always are alarmists. They are on +the defensive. They must explain why they ran away. + +Early in September Paris was like a summer hotel out of season. The +owners had temporarily closed it; the windows were barred, the +furniture and paintings draped in linen, a caretaker and a night- +watchman were in possession. + +It is an old saying that all good Americans go to Paris when they die. +Most of them take no chances and prefer to visit it while they are alive. +Before this war, if the visitor was disappointed, it was the fault of +the visitor, not of Paris. She was all things to all men. To some she +offered triumphal arches, statues, paintings; to others by day racing, +and by night Maxims and the Rat Mort. Some loved her for the book- +stalls along the Seine and ateliers of the Latin Quarter; some for her +parks, forests, gardens, and boulevards; some because of the +Luxembourg; some only as a place where everybody was smiling, +happy, and polite, where they were never bored, where they were +always young, where the lights never went out and there was no early +call. Should they to-day revisit her they would find her grown grave +and decorous, and going to bed at sundown, but still smiling bravely, +still polite. + +You cannot wipe out Paris by removing two million people and closing +Cartier's and the Café de Paris. There still remains some hundred +miles of boulevards, the Seine and her bridges, the Arc de Triomphe, +with the sun setting behind it, and the Gardens of the Tuilleries. You +cannot send them to the store-house or wrap them in linen. And the +spirit of the people of Paris you cannot crush nor stampede. + +Between Paris in peace and Paris to-day the most striking difference +is lack of population. Idle rich, the employees of the government, and +tourists of all countries are missing. They leave a great emptiness. +When you walk the streets you feel either that you are up very early, +before any one is awake, or that you are in a boom town from which +the boom has departed. + +On almost every one of the noted shops "Fermé" is written, or it has +been turned over to the use of the Red Cross. Of the smaller shops +those that remain open are chiefly bakeshops and chemists, but no +man need go naked or hungry; in every block he will find at least one +place where he can be clothed and fed. But the theatres are all +closed. No one is in a mood to laugh, and certainly no one wishes to +consider anything more serious than the present crisis. So there are +no revues, operas, or comedies. + +The thing you missed perhaps most were the children in the Avenue +des Champs Elysées. For generations over that part of the public +garden the children have held sway. They knew it belonged to them, +and into the gravel walks drove their tin spades with the same sense +of ownership as at Deauville they dig up the shore. Their straw hats +and bare legs, their Normandy nurses, with enormous head-dresses, +blue for a boy and pink for a girl, were, of the sights of Paris, one of +the most familiar. And when the children vanished they left a dreary +wilderness. You could look for a mile, from the Place de la Concorde +to the Arc de Triomphe, and not see a child. The stalls, where they +bought hoops and skipping-ropes, the flying wooden horses, Punch- +and-Judy shows, booths where with milk they refreshed themselves +and with bonbons made themselves ill, all were deserted and +boarded up. + +The closing down of the majority of the shops and hotels was not due +to a desire on the part of those employed in them to avoid the +Germans, but to get at the Germans. + +On shop after shop are signs reading: "The proprietor and staff are +with the colors," or "The personnel of this establishment is mobilized," +or "Monsieur------informs his clients that he is with his regiment." + +In the absence of men at the front, Frenchwomen, at all times +capable and excellent managers, have surpassed themselves. In my +hotel there were employed seven women and one man. In another +hotel I visited the entire staff was composed of women. + +An American banker offered his twenty-two polo ponies to the +government. They were refused as not heavy enough. He did not +know that, and supposed he had lost them. Later he learned from the +wife of his trainer, a Frenchwoman, that those employed in his stables +at Versailles who had not gone to the front at the approach of the +Germans had fled, and that for three weeks his string of twenty-two +horses had been fed, groomed, and exercised by the trainer's wife +and her two little girls. + +To an American it was very gratifying to hear the praise of the French +and English for the American ambulance at Neuilly. It is the outgrowth +of the American hospital, and at the start of this war was organized by +Mrs. Herrick, wife of our ambassador, and other ladies of the +American colony in Paris, and the American doctors. They took over +the Lycée Pasteur, an enormous school at Neuilly, that had just been +finished and never occupied, and converted it into what is a most +splendidly equipped hospital. In walking over the building you find it +hard to believe that it was intended for any other than its present use. +The operating rooms, kitchens, wards, rooms for operating by +Roentgen rays, and even a chapel have been installed. + +The organization and system are of the highest order. Every one in it +is American. The doctors are the best in Paris. The nurses and +orderlies are both especially trained for the work and volunteers. The +spirit of helpfulness and unselfishness is everywhere apparent. +Certain members of the American colony, who never in their lives +thought of any one save themselves, and of how to escape boredom, +are toiling like chambermaids and hall porters, performing most +disagreeable tasks, not for a few hours a week, but unceasingly, day +after day. No task is too heavy for them or too squalid. They help all +alike--Germans, English, major-generals, and black Turcos. + +There are three hundred patients. The staff of the hospital numbers +one hundred and fifty. It is composed of the best-known American +doctors in Paris and a few from New York. Among the volunteer +nurses and attendants are wives of bankers in Paris, American girls +who have married French titles, and girls who since the war came +have lost employment as teachers of languages, stenographers, and +governesses. The men are members of the Jockey Club, art +students, medical students, clerks, and boulevardiers. They are all +working together in most admirable harmony and under an +organization that in its efficiency far surpasses that of any other +hospital in Paris. Later it is going to split the American colony in twain. +If you did not work in the American ambulance you won't belong. + +Attached to the hospital is a squadron of automobile ambulances, ten +of which were presented by the Ford Company and ten purchased. +Their chassis have been covered with khaki hoods and fitted to +carry two wounded men and attendants. On their runs they are +accompanied by automobiles with medical supplies, tires, and +gasolene. The ambulances scout at the rear of the battle line and +carry back those which the field-hospitals cannot handle. + +One day I watched the orderlies who accompany these ambulances +handling about forty English wounded, transferring them from the +automobiles to the reception hall, and the smartness and intelligence +with which the members of each crew worked together was like that +of a champion polo team. The editor of a London paper, who was in +Paris investigating English hospital conditions, witnessed the same +performance, and told me that in handling the wounded it surpassed +in efficiency anything he had seen. + + + + +Chapter V +The Battle Of Soissons + + + +The struggle for the possession of Soissons lasted two days. The +second day's battle, which I witnessed, ended with the city in the +possession of the French. It was part of the seven days' of +continuous fighting that began on September 6th at Meaux. Then the +German left wing, consisting of the army of General von Kluck, was at +Claye, within fifteen miles of Paris. But the French and English, +instead of meeting the advance with a defence, themselves attacked. +Steadily, at the rate of ten miles a day, they drove the Germans back +across the Aisne and the Marne, and so saved the city. + +When this retrograde movement of the Germans began, those who +could not see the nature of the fighting believed that the German line +of communication, the one from Aix-la-Chapelle through Belgium, had +proved too long, and that the left wing was voluntarily withdrawing to +meet the new line of communication through Luxembourg. But the +fields of battle beyond Meaux, through which it was necessary to +pass to reach the fight at Sois-sons, showed no evidence of leisurely +withdrawal. On both sides there were evidences of the most +desperate fighting and of artillery fire that was wide-spread and +desolating. That of the Germans, intended to destroy the road from +Meaux and to cover their retreat, showed marksmanship so accurate +and execution so terrible as, while it lasted, to render pursuit +impossible. + +The battle-field stretched from the hills three miles north of Meaux for +four miles along the road and a mile to either side. The road is lined +with poplars three feet across and as high as a five-story building. For +the four miles the road was piled with branches of these trees. The +trees themselves were split as by lightning, or torn in half, as with your +hands you could tear apart a loaf of bread. Through some, solid shell +had passed, leaving clean holes. Others looked as though drunken +woodsmen with axes from roots to topmost branches had slashed +them in crazy fury. Some shells had broken the trunks in half as a +hurricane snaps a mast. + +That no human being could survive such a bombardment were many +grewsome proofs. In one place for a mile the road was lined with +those wicker baskets in which the Germans carry their ammunition. +These were filled with shells, unexploded, and behind the trenches +were hundreds more of these baskets, some for the shells of the +siege-guns, as large as lobster-pots or umbrella-stands, and others, +each with three compartments, for shrapnel. In gutters along the road +and in the wheat-fields these brass shells flashed in the sunshine like +tiny mirrors. + +The four miles of countryside over which for four days both armies +had ploughed the earth with these shells was the picture of complete +desolation. The rout of the German army was marked by knapsacks, +uniforms, and accoutrements scattered over the fields on either hand +as far as you could see. Red Cross flags hanging from bushes +showed where there had been dressing stations. Under them were +blood-stains, bandages and clothing, and boots piled in heaps as +high as a man's chest, and the bodies of those German soldiers that +the first aid had failed to save. + +After death the body is mercifully robbed of its human aspect. You are +spared the thought that what is lying in the trenches among the +shattered trees and in the wheat-fields staring up at the sky was once +a man. It appears to be only a bundle of clothes, a scarecrow that +has tumbled among the grain it once protected. But it gives a terrible +meaning to the word "missing." When you read in the reports from +the War Office that five thousand are "missing," you like to think of +them safely cared for in a hospital or dragging out the period of the +war as prisoners. But the real missing are the unidentified dead. In +time some peasant will bury them, but he will not understand the +purpose of the medal each wears around his neck. And so, with the +dead man will be buried his name and the number of his regiment. No +one will know where he fell or where he lies. Some one will always +hope that he will return. For, among the dead his name did not +appear. He was reported "missing." + +The utter wastefulness of war was seldom more clearly shown. +Carcasses of horses lined the road. Some few of these had been +killed by shell-fire. Others, worn out and emaciated, and bearing the +brand of the German army, had been mercifully destroyed; but the +greater number of them were the farm horses of peasants, still +wearing their head-stalls or the harness of the plough. That they +might not aid the enemy as remounts, the Germans in their retreat +had shot them. I saw four and five together in the yards of stables, +the bullet-hole of an automatic in the head of each. Others lay beside +the market cart, others by the canal, where they had sought water. + +Less pitiful, but still evidencing the wastefulness of war, were the +motor-trucks, and automobiles that in the flight had been abandoned. +For twenty miles these automobiles were scattered along the road. +There were so many one stopped counting them. Added to their loss +were two shattered German airships. One I saw twenty-six kilometres +outside of Meaux and one at Bouneville. As they fell they had buried +their motors deep in the soft earth and their wings were twisted +wrecks of silk and steel. + +All the fields through which the army passed had become waste land. +Shells had re-ploughed them. Horses and men had camped in them. +The haystacks, gathered by the sweat of the brow and patiently set in +trim rows were trampled in the mud and scattered to the winds. All the +smaller villages through which I passed were empty of people, and +since the day before, when the Germans occupied them, none of the +inhabitants had returned. These villages were just as the Germans +had left them. The streets were piled with grain on which the soldiers +had slept, and on the sidewalks in front of the better class of houses +tables around which the officers had eaten still remained, the bottles +half empty, the food half eaten. + +In a château beyond Neufchelles the doors and windows were open +and lace curtains were blowing in the breeze. From the garden you +could see paintings on the walls, books on the tables. Outside, on the +lawn, surrounded by old and charming gardens, apparently the +general and his staff had prepared to dine. The table was set for a +dozen, and on it were candles in silver sticks, many bottles of red and +white wine, champagne, liqueurs, and coffee-cups of the finest china. +From their banquet some alarm had summoned the officers. The +place was as they had left it, the coffee untasted, the candles burned +to the candlesticks, and red stains on the cloth where the burgundy +had spilled. In the bright sunlight, and surrounded by flowers, the +deserted table and the silent, stately château seemed like the +sleeping palace of the fairy-tale. + +Though the humor of troops retreating is an ugly one, I saw no +outrages such as I saw in Belgium. Except in the villages of Neuf- +chelles and Varreddes, there was no sign of looting or wanton +destruction. But in those two villages the interior of every home and +shop was completely wrecked. In the other villages the destruction +was such as is permitted by the usages of war, such as the blowing +up of bridges, the burning of the railroad station, and the cutting of +telegraph-wires. + +Not until Bouneville, thirty kilometres beyond Meaux, did I catch up +with the Allies. There I met some English Tommies who were trying to +find their column. They had no knowledge of the French language, or +where they were, or where their regiment was, but were quite +confident of finding it, and were as cheerful as at manœuvres. +Outside of Chaudun the road was blocked with tirailleurs, Algerians in +light-blue Zouave uniforms, and native Turcos from Morocco in khaki, +with khaki turbans. They shivered in the autumn sunshine, and were +wrapped in burnooses of black and white. They were making a +turning movement to attack the German right, and were being hurried +forward. They had just driven the German rear-guard out of Chaudun, +and said that the fighting was still going on at Soissons. But the only +sign I saw of it were two Turcos who had followed the Germans too +far. They lay sprawling in the road, and had so lately fallen that their +rifles still lay under them. Three miles farther I came upon the +advance line of the French army, and for the remainder of the day +watched a most remarkable artillery duel, which ended with Soissons +in the hands of the Allies. + +Soissons is a pretty town of four thousand inhabitants. It is chiefly +known for its haricot beans, and since the Romans held it under +Caesar it has been besieged many times. Until to-day the Germans +had held it for two weeks. In 1870 they bombarded it for four days, +and there is, or was, in Soissons, in the Place de la République, a +monument to those citizens of Soissons whom after that siege the +Germans shot. The town lies in the valley of the River Aisne, which is +formed by two long ridges running south and north. + +The Germans occupied the hills to the south, but when attacked +offered only slight resistance and withdrew to the hills opposite. In +Soissons they left a rear-guard to protect their supplies, who were +destroying all bridges leading into the town. At the time I arrived a +force of Turcos had been ordered forward to clean Soissons of the +Germans, and the French artillery was endeavoring to disclose their +positions on the hills. The loss of the bridges did not embarrass the +black men. In rowboats they crossed to Soissons and were warmly +greeted. Soissons was drawing no color-line. The Turcos were +followed by engineers, who endeavored to repair one bridge and in +consequence were heavily shelled with shrapnel, while, with the intent +to destroy the road and retard the French advance, the hills where +the French had halted were being pounded by German siege-guns. + +This was at a point four kilometres from Chaudun, between the +villages of Breuil and Courtelles. From this height you could see +almost to Compiègne, and thirty miles in front in the direction of Saint- +Quentin. It was a panorama of wooded hills, gray villages in fields of +yellow grain, miles of poplars marking the roads, and below us the +flashing waters of the Aisne and the canal, with at our feet the +steeples of the cathedral of Soissons and the gate to the old abbey of +Thomas à Becket. Across these steeples the shells sang, and on +both sides of the Aisne Valley the artillery was engaged. The wind +was blowing forty knots, which prevented the use of the French +aeroplanes, but it cleared the air, and, helped by brilliant sunshine, it +was possible to follow the smoke of the battle for fifteen miles. The +wind was blowing toward our right, where we were told were the +English, and though as their shrapnel burst we could see the flash of +guns and rings of smoke, the report of the guns did not reach us. It +gave the curious impression of a bombardment conducted in utter +silence. + +From our left the wind carried the sounds clearly. The jar and roar of +the cannon were insistent, and on both sides of the valley the hilltops +were wrapped with white clouds. Back of us in the wheat-fields shells +were setting fire to the giant haystacks and piles of grain, which in the +clear sunshine burned a blatant red. At times shells would strike in +the villages of Breuil and Vauxbain, and houses would burst into +flames, the gale fanning the fire to great height and hiding the village +in smoke. Some three hundred yards ahead of us the shells of +German siege-guns were trying to destroy the road, which the +poplars clearly betrayed. But their practice was at fault, and the shells +fell only on either side. When they struck they burst with a roar, +casting up black fumes and digging a grave twenty yards in +circumference. + +But the French soldiers disregarded them entirely. In the trenches +which the Germans had made and abandoned they hid from the wind +and slept peacefully. Others slept in the lee of the haystacks, their red +breeches and blue coats making wonderful splashes of color against +the yellow grain. For seven days these same men had been fighting +without pause, and battles bore them. + +Late in the afternoon, all along the fifteen miles of battle, firing +ceased, for the Germans were falling back, and once more Soissons, +freed of them as fifteen hundred years ago she had freed herself of +the Romans, held out her arms to the Allies. + + + + +Chapter VI +The Bombardment of Rheims + + + +In several ways the city of Rheims is celebrated. Some know her only +through her cathedral, where were crowned all but six of the kings of +France, and where the stained-glass windows, with those in the +cathedrals of Chartres and Burgos, Spain, are the most beautiful in all +the world. Children know Rheims through the wicked magpie which +the archbishop excommunicated, and to their elders, if they are rich, +Rheims is the place from which comes all their champagne. + +On September 4th the Germans entered Rheims, and occupied it +until the 12th, when they retreated across the Vesle to the hills north +of the city. + +On the 18th the French forces, having entered Rheims, the Germans +bombarded the city with field-guns and howitzers. + +Rheims is fifty-six miles from Paris, but, though I started at an early +hour, so many bridges had been destroyed that I did not reach the +city until three o'clock in the afternoon. At that hour the French +artillery, to the east at Nogent and immediately outside the northern +edge of the town, were firing on the German positions, and the +Germans were replying, their shells falling in the heart of the city. + +The proportion of those that struck the cathedral or houses within a +hundred yards of it to those falling on other buildings was about six to +one. So what damage the cathedral suffered was from blows +delivered not by accident but with intent. As the priests put it, firing on +the church was "exprès." + +The cathedral dominates not only the city but the countryside. It rises +from the plain as Gibraltar rises from the sea, as the pyramids rise +from the desert. And at a distance of six miles, as you approach from +Paris along the valley of the Marne, it has more the appearance of a +fortress than a church. But when you stand in the square beneath +and look up, it is entirely ecclesiastic, of noble and magnificent +proportions, in design inspired, much too sublime for the kings it has +crowned, and almost worthy of the king in whose honor, seven +hundred years ago, it was reared. It has been called "perhaps the +most beautiful structure produced in the Middle Ages." On the west +façade, rising tier upon tier, are five hundred and sixty statues and +carvings. The statues are of angels, martyrs, patriarchs, apostles, the +vices and virtues, the Virgin and Child. In the centre of these is the +famous rose window; on either side giant towers. + +At my feet down the steps leading to the three portals were pools of +blood. There was a priest in the square, a young man with white hair +and with a face as strong as one of those of the saints carved in +stone, and as gentle. He was curé doyen of the Church of St. +Jacques, M. Chanoine Frezet, and he explained the pools of blood. +After the Germans retreated, the priests had carried the German +wounded up the steps into the nave of the cathedral and for them +had spread straw upon the stone flagging. + +The curé guided me to the side door, unlocked it, and led the way into +the cathedral. It is built in the form of a crucifix, and so vast is the +edifice that many chapels are lost in it, and the lower half is in a +shadow. But from high above the stained windows of the thirteenth +century, or what was left of them, was cast a glow so gorgeous, so +wonderful, so pure that it seemed to come direct from the other world. + +From north and south the windows shed a radiance of deep blue, like +the blue of the sky by moonlight on the coldest night of winter, and +from the west the great rose window glowed with the warmth and +beauty of a thousand rubies. Beneath it, bathed in crimson light, +where for generations French men and women have knelt in prayer, +where Joan of Arc helped place the crown on Charles VII, was piled +three feet of dirty straw, and on the straw were gray-coated Germans, +covered with the mud of the fields, caked with blood, white and +haggard from the loss of it, from the lack of sleep, rest, and food. The +entire west end of the cathedral looked like a stable, and in the blue +and purple rays from the gorgeous windows the wounded were as +unreal as ghosts. Already two of them had passed into the world of +ghosts. They had not died from their wounds, but from a shell sent by +their own people. + +It had come screaming into this backwater of war, and, tearing out +leaded window-panes as you would destroy cobwebs, had burst +among those who already had paid the penalty. And so two of them, +done with pack-drill, goose-step, half rations and forced marches, lay +under the straw the priests had heaped upon them. The toes of their +boots were pointed grotesquely upward. Their gray hands were +clasped rigidly as though in prayer. + +Half hidden in the straw, the others were as silent and almost as still. +Since they had been dropped upon the stone floor they had not +moved, but lay in twisted, unnatural attitudes. Only their eyes showed +that they lived. These were turned beseechingly upon the French +Red Cross doctors, kneeling waist-high in the straw and unreeling +long white bandages. The wounded watched them drawing slowly +nearer, until they came, fighting off death, clinging to life as +shipwrecked sailors cling to a raft and watch the boats pulling toward +them. + +A young German officer, his smart cavalry cloak torn and slashed, +and filthy with dried mud and blood and with his eyes in bandages, +groped toward a pail of water, feeling his way with his foot, his arms +outstretched, clutching the air. To guide him a priest took his arm, and +the officer turned and stumbled against him. Thinking the priest was +one of his own men, he swore at him, and then, to learn if he wore +shoulder-straps, ran his fingers over the priest's shoulders, and, +finding a silk cassock, said quickly in French: "Pardon me, my father; +I am blind." + +As the young curé guided me through the wrecked cathedral his +indignation and his fear of being unjust waged a fine battle. "Every +summer," he said, "thousands of your fellow countrymen visit the +cathedral. They come again and again. They love these beautiful +windows. They will not permit them to be destroyed. Will you tell them +what you saw?" + +It is no pleasure to tell what I saw. Shells had torn out some of the +windows, the entire sash, glass, and stone frame--all was gone; only +a jagged hole was left. On the floor lay broken carvings, pieces of +stone from flying buttresses outside that had been hurled through the +embrasures, tangled masses of leaden window-sashes, like twisted +coils of barbed wire, and great brass candelabra. The steel ropes that +supported them had been shot away, and they had plunged to the +flagging below, carrying with them their scarlet silk tassels heavy with +the dust of centuries. And everywhere was broken glass. Not one of +the famous blue windows was intact. None had been totally +destroyed, but each had been shattered, and through the apertures +the sun blazed blatantly. + +We walked upon glass more precious than precious stones. It was +beyond price. No one can replace it. Seven hundred years ago the +secret of the glass died. Diamonds can be bought anywhere, pearls +can be matched, but not the stained glass of Rheims. And under our +feet, with straw and caked blood, it lay crushed into tiny fragments. +When you held a piece of it between your eye and the sun it glowed +with a light that never was on land or sea. + +War is only waste. The German Emperor thinks it is thousands of +men in flashing breastplates at manoeuvres, galloping past him, +shouting "Hoch der Kaiser!" Until this year that is all of war he has +ever seen. + +I have seen a lot of it, and real war is his high-born officer with his +eyes shot out, his peasant soldiers with their toes sticking stiffly +through the straw, and the windows of Rheims, that for centuries with +their beauty glorified the Lord, swept into a dust heap. + +Outside the cathedral I found the bombardment of the city was still +going forward and that the French batteries to the north and east +were answering gun for gun. How people will act under unusual +conditions no one can guess. Many of the citizens of Rheims were +abandoning their homes and running through the streets leading +west, trembling, weeping, incoherent with terror, carrying nothing with +them. Others were continuing the routine of life with anxious faces but +making no other sign. The great majority had moved to the west of +the city to the Paris gate, and for miles lined the road, but had taken +little or nothing with them, apparently intending to return at nightfall. +They were all of the poorer class. The houses of the rich were closed, +as were all the shops, except a few cafés and those that offered for +sale bread, meat, and medicine. + +During the morning the bombardment destroyed many houses. One +to each block was the average, except around the cathedral, where +two hotels that face it and the Palace of Justice had been pounded +but not destroyed. Other shops and residences facing the cathedral +had been ripped open from roof to cellar. In one a fire was burning +briskly, and firemen were playing on it with hose. I was their only +audience. A sight that at other times would have collected half of +Rheims and blocked traffic, in the excitement of the bombardment +failed to attract. The Germans were using howitzers. Where shells hit +in the street they tore up the Belgian blocks for a radius of five yards, +and made a hole as though a water-main had burst. When they hit a +house, that house had to be rebuilt. Before they struck it was possible +to follow the direction of the shells by the sound. It was like the +jangling of many telegraph-wires. + +A hundred yards north of the cathedral I saw a house hit at the third +story. The roof was of gray slate, high and sloping, with tall chimneys. +When the shell exploded the roof and chimneys disappeared. You did +not see them sink and tumble; they merely vanished. They had been +a part of the sky-line of Rheims; then a shell removed them and +another roof fifteen feet lower down became the sky-line. + +I walked to the edge of the city, to the northeast, but at the outskirts +all the streets were barricaded with carts and paving-stones, and +when I wanted to pass forward to the French batteries the officers in +charge of the barricades refused permission. At this end of the town, +held in reserve in case of a German advance, the streets were +packed with infantry. The men were going from shop to shop trying to +find one the Germans had not emptied. Tobacco was what they +sought. + +They told me they had been all the way to Belgium and back, but I +never have seen men more fit. Where Germans are haggard and +show need of food and sleep, the French were hard and moved +quickly and were smiling. + +One reason for this is that even if the commissariat is slow they are +fed by their own people, and when in Belgium by the Allies. But when +the Germans pass the people hide everything eatable and bolt the +doors. And so, when the German supply wagons fail to come up the +men starve. + +I went in search of the American consul, William Bardel. Everybody +seemed to know him, and all men spoke well of him. They liked him +because he stuck to his post, but the mayor had sent for him, and I +could find neither him nor the mayor. + +When I left the cathedral I had told my chauffeur to wait near by it, not +believing the Germans would continue to make it their point of attack. +He waited until two houses within a hundred yards of him were +knocked down, and then went away from there, leaving word with the +sentry that I could find him outside the gate to Paris. When I found +him he was well outside and refused to return, saying he would sleep +in his car. + +On the way back I met a steady stream of women and old men +fleeing before the shells. Their state was very pitiful. Some of them +seemed quite dazed with fear and ran, dodging, from one sidewalk to +the other, and as shells burst above them prayed aloud and crossed +themselves. Others were busy behind the counters of their shops +serving customers, and others stood in doorways holding in their +hands their knitting. Frenchwomen of a certain class always knit. If +they were waiting to be electrocuted they would continue knitting. + +The bombardment had grown sharper and the rumble of guns was +uninterrupted, growling like thunder after a summer storm or as the +shells passed shrieking and then bursting with jarring detonations. +Underfoot the pavements were inch-deep with fallen glass, and as +you walked it tinkled musically. With inborn sense of order, some of +the housewives abandoned their knitting and calmly swept up the +glass into neat piles. Habit is often so much stronger than fear. So is +curiosity. All the boys and many young men and maidens were in the +middle of the street watching to see where the shells struck and on +the lookout for aeroplanes. When about five o'clock one sailed over +the city, no one knew whether it was German or French, but every +one followed it, apparently intending if it launched a bomb to be in at +the death. + +I found all the hotels closed and on their doors I pounded in vain, and +was planning to go back to my car when I stumbled upon the Hôtel +du Nord. It was open and the proprietress, who was knitting, told me +the table-d'hôte dinner was ready. Not wishing to miss dinner, I halted +an aged citizen who was fleeing from the city and asked him to carry +a note to the American consul inviting him to dine. But the aged man +said the consulate was close to where the shells were falling and that +to approach it was as much as his life was worth. I asked him how +much his life was worth in money, and he said two francs. + +He did not find the consul, and I shared the table d'hôte with three +tearful old French ladies, each of whom had husband or son at the +front. That would seem to have been enough without being shelled at +home. It is a commonplace, but it is nevertheless true that in war it is +the women who suffer. The proprietress walked around the table, still +knitting, and told us tales of German officers who until the day before +had occupied her hotel, and her anecdotes were not intended to +make German officers popular. + +The bombardment ceased at eight o'clock, but at four the next +morning it woke me, and as I departed for Paris salvoes of French +artillery were returning the German fire. + +Before leaving I revisited the cathedral to see if during the night it had +been further mutilated. Around it shells were still falling, and the +square in front was deserted. In the rain the roofless houses, +shattered windows, and broken carvings that littered the street +presented a picture of melancholy and useless desolation. Around +three sides of the square not a building was intact. But facing the +wreckage the bronze statue of Joan of Arc sat on her bronze charger, +uninjured and untouched. In her right hand, lifted high above her as +though defying the German shells, some one overnight had lashed +the flag of France. + +The next morning the newspapers announced that the cathedral was +in flames, and I returned to Rheims. The papers also gave the two +official excuses offered by the Germans for the destruction of the +church. One was that the French batteries were so placed that in +replying to them it was impossible to avoid shelling the city. + +I know where the French batteries were, and if the German guns +aimed at them by error missed them and hit the cathedral, the +German marksmanship is deteriorating. To find the range the artillery +sends what in the American army are called brace shots--one aimed +at a point beyond the mark and one short of it. From the explosions of +these two shells the gunner is able to determine how far he is off the +target and accordingly regulates his sights. Not more, at the most, +than three of these experimental brace shots should be necessary, +and, as one of each brace is purposely aimed to fall short of the +target, only three German shells, or, as there were two French +positions, six German shells should have fallen beyond the batteries +and into the city. And yet for four days the city was bombarded! + +To make sure, I asked French, English, and American army officers +what margin of error they thought excusable after the range was +determined. They all agreed that after his range was found an artillery +officer who missed it by from fifty to one hundred yards ought to be +court-martialled. The Germans "missed" by one mile. + +The other excuse given by the Germans for the destruction of the +cathedral was that the towers had been used by the French for +military purposes. On arriving at Rheims the question I first asked +was whether this was true. The abbé Chinot, curé of the chapel of the +cathedral, assured me most solemnly and earnestly it was not. The +French and the German staffs, he said, had mutually agreed that on +the towers of the cathedral no quick-firing guns should be placed, and +by both sides this agreement was observed. After entering Rheims +the French, to protect the innocent citizens against bombs dropped +by German air-ships, for two nights placed a search-light on the +towers, but, fearing this might be considered a breach of agreement +as to the mitrailleuses, the abbé Chinot ordered the search-light +withdrawn. Five days later, during which time the towers were not +occupied and the cathedral had been converted into a hospital for the +German wounded and Red Cross flags were hanging from both +towers, the Germans opened fire upon it. Had it been the search-light +to which the Germans objected, they would have fired upon it when it +was in evidence, not five days after it had disappeared. + +When, with the abbé Chinot, I spent the day in what is left of the +cathedral, the Germans still were shelling it. Two shells fell within +twenty-five yards of us. It was at that time that the photographs that +illustrate this chapter were taken. + +The fire started in this way. For some months the northeast tower of +the cathedral had been under repair and surrounded by scaffolding. +On September 19th a shell set fire to the outer roof of the cathedral, +which is of lead and oak. The fire spread to the scaffolding and from +the scaffolding to the wooden beams of the portals, hundred of years +old. The abbé Chinot, young/alert, and daring, ran out upon the +scaffolding and tried to cut the cords that bound it. + +In other parts of the city the fire department was engaged with fire lit +by the bombardment, and unaided, the flames gained upon him. +Seeing this, he called for volunteers, and, under the direction of the +Archbishop of Rheims, they carried on stretchers from the burning +building the wounded Germans. The rescuing parties were not a +minute too soon. Already from the roofs molten lead, as deadly as +bullets, was falling among the wounded. The blazing doors had +turned the straw on which they lay into a prairie fire. + +Splashed by the molten lead and threatened by falling timbers, the +priests, at the risk of their lives and limbs, carried out the wounded +Germans, sixty in all. + +But, after bearing them to safety, their charges were confronted with a +new danger. Inflamed by the sight of their own dead, four hundred +citizens having been killed by the bombardment, and by the loss of +their cathedral, the people of Rheims who were gathered about the +burning building called for the lives of the German prisoners. "They +are barbarians," they cried. "Kill them!" Archbishop Landreaux and +Abbé Chinot placed themselves in front of the wounded. + +"Before you kill them," they cried, "you must first kill us." + +This is not highly colored fiction, but fact. It is more than fact. It is +history, for the picture of the venerable archbishop, with his cathedral +blazing behind him, facing a mob of his own people in defence of their +enemies, will always live in the annals of this war and in the annals of +the church. + +There were other features of this fire and bombardment which the +Catholic Church will not allow to be forgotten. The leaden roofs were +destroyed, the oak timbers that for several hundred years had +supported them were destroyed, stone statues and flying buttresses +weighing many tons were smashed into atoms, but not a single +crucifix was touched, not one waxen or wooden image of the Virgin +disturbed, not one painting of the Holy Family marred. + +I saw the Gobelin tapestries, more precious than spun gold, intact, +while sparks fell about them, and lying beneath them were iron bolts +twisted by fire, broken rooftrees and beams still smouldering. + +But the special Providence that saved the altars was not omnipotent. +The windows that were the glory of the cathedral were wrecked. +Through some the shells had passed, others the explosions had +blown into tiny fragments. Where, on my first visit, I saw in the stained +glass gaping holes, now the whole window had been torn from the +walls. Statues of saints and crusader and cherubim lay in mangled +fragments. The great bells, each of which is as large as the Liberty +Bell in Philadelphia, that for hundreds of years for Rheims have +sounded the angelus, were torn from their oak girders and melted into +black masses of silver and copper, without shape and without sound. +Never have I looked upon a picture of such pathos, of such wanton +and wicked destruction. + +The towers still stand, the walls still stand, for beneath the roofs of +lead the roof of stone remained, but what is intact is a pitiful, distorted +mass where once were exquisite and noble features. It is like the face +of a beautiful saint scarred with vitriol. + +Two days before, when I walked through the cathedral, the scene +was the same as when kings were crowned. You stood where Joan +of Arc received the homage of France. When I returned I walked +upon charred ashes, broken stone, and shattered glass. Where once +the light was dim and holy, now through great breaches in the walls +rain splashed. The spirit of the place was gone. + +Outside the cathedral, in the direction from which the shells came, for +three city blocks every house was destroyed. The palace of the +archbishop was gutted, the chapel and the robing-room of the kings +were cellars filled with rubbish. Of them only crumbling walls remain. +And on the south and west the façades of the cathedral and flying +buttresses and statues of kings, angels, and saints were mangled +and shapeless. + +I walked over the district that had been destroyed by these accidental +shots, and it stretched from the northeastern outskirts of Rheims in a +straight line to the cathedral. Shells that fell short of the cathedral for +a quarter of a mile destroyed entirely three city blocks. The heart of +this district is the Place Godinot. In every direction at a distance of +a mile from the Place Godinot I passed houses wrecked by shells +--south at the Paris gate, north at the railroad station. + +There is no part of Rheims that these shells the Germans claim were +aimed at French batteries did not hit. If Rheims accepts the German +excuse she might suggest to them that the next time they bombard, if +they aim at the city they may hit the batteries. + +The Germans claim also that the damage done was from fires, not +shells. But that is not the case; destruction by fire was slight. Houses +wrecked by shells where there was no fire outnumbered those that +were burned ten to one. In no house was there probably any other +fire than that in the kitchen stove, and that had been smothered by +falling masonry and tiles. + +Outside the wrecked area were many shops belonging to American +firms, but each of them had escaped injury. They were filled with +American typewriters, sewing-machines, and cameras. A number of +cafés bearing the sign "American Bar" testified to the nationality and +tastes of many tourists. + +I found our consul, William Bardel, at the consulate. He is a fine type +of the German-American citizen, and, since the war began, with his +wife and son has held the fort and tactfully looked after the interests +of both Americans and Germans. On both sides of him shells had +damaged the houses immediately adjoining. The one across the +street had been destroyed and two neighbors killed. + +The street in front of the consulate is a mass of fallen stone, and the +morning I called on Mr. Bardel a shell had hit his neighbor's chestnut- +tree, filled his garden with chestnut burrs, and blown out the glass of +his windows. He was patching the holes with brown wrapping-paper, +but was chiefly concerned because in his own garden the dahlias +were broken. During the first part of the bombardment, when firing +became too hot for him, he had retreated with his family to the corner +of the street, where are the cellars of the Roderers, the champagne +people. There are worse places in which to hide in than a champagne +cellar. + +Mr. Bardel has lived six years in Rheims and estimated the damage +done to property by shells at thirty millions of dollars, and said that +unless the seat of military operations was removed the champagne +crop for this year would be entirely wasted. It promised to be an +especially good year. The seasons were propitious, being dry when +sun was needed and wet when rain was needed, but unless the +grapes were gathered by the end of September the crops would be +lost. + +Of interest to Broadway is the fact that in Rheims, or rather in her +cellars, are stored nearly fifty million bottles of champagne belonging +to six of the best-known houses. Should shells reach these bottles, +the high price of living in the lobster palaces will be proportionately +increased. + +Except for Red Cross volunteers seeking among the ruins for +wounded, I found that part of the city that had suffered completely +deserted. Shells still were falling and houses as yet intact, and those +partly destroyed were empty. You saw pitiful attempts to save the +pieces. In places, as though evictions were going forward, chairs, +pictures, cooking-pans, bedding were piled in heaps. There was none +to guard them; certainly there was no one so unfeeling as to disturb +them. + +I saw neither looting nor any effort to guard against it. In their +common danger and horror the citizens of Rheims of all classes +seemed drawn closely together. The manner of all was subdued and +gentle, like those who stand at an open grave. + +The shells played the most inconceivable pranks. In some streets the +houses and shops along one side were entirely wiped out and on the +other untouched. In the Rue du Cardinal du Lorraine every house +was gone. Where they once stood were cellars filled with powdered +stone. Tall chimneys that one would have thought a strong wind +might dislodge were holding themselves erect, while the surrounding +walls, three feet thick, had been crumpled into rubbish. + +In some houses a shell had removed one room only, and as neatly +as though it were the work of masons and carpenters. It was as +though the shell had a grievance against the lodger in that particular +room. The waste was appalling. + +Among the ruins I saw good paintings in rags and in gardens statues +covered with the moss of centuries smashed. In many places, still on +the pedestal, you would see a headless Venus, or a flying Mercury +chopped off at the waist. + +Long streamers of ivy that during a century had crept higher and +higher up the wall of some noble mansion, until they were part of it, +still clung to it, although it was divided into a thousand fragments. Of +one house all that was left standing was a slice of the front wall just +wide enough to bear a sign reading: "This house is for sale; elegantly +furnished." Nothing else of that house remained. + +In some streets of the destroyed area I met not one living person. +The noise made by my feet kicking the broken glass was the only +sound. The silence, the gaping holes in the sidewalk, the ghastly +tributes to the power of the shells, and the complete desolation, made +more desolate by the bright sunshine, gave you a curious feeling that +the end of the world had come and you were the only survivor. + +This-impression was aided by the sight of many rare and valuable +articles with no one guarding them. They were things of price that one +may not carry into the next world but which in this are kept under lock +and key. + +In the Rue de l'Université, at my leisure, I could have ransacked shop +after shop or from the shattered drawing-rooms filled my pockets. +Shopkeepers had gone without waiting to lock their doors, and in +houses the fronts of which were down you could see that, in order to +save their lives, the inmates had fled at a moment's warning. + +In one street a high wall extended an entire block, but in the centre a +howitzer shell had made a breach as large as a barn door. Through +this I had a view of an old and beautiful garden, on which oasis +nothing had been disturbed. Hanging from the walls, on diamond- +shaped lattices, roses were still in bloom, and along the gravel walks +flowers of every color raised their petals to the sunshine. On the +terrace was spread a tea-service of silver and on the grass were +children's toys--hoops, tennis-balls, and flat on its back, staring up +wide-eyed at the shells, a large, fashionably dressed doll. + +In another house everything was destroyed except the mantel over +the fireplace in the drawing-room. On this stood a terra-cotta statuette +of Harlequin. It is one you have often seen. The legs are wide apart, +the arms folded, the head thrown back in an ecstasy of laughter. It +looked exactly as though it were laughing at the wreckage with which +it was surrounded. No one could have placed it where it was after the +house fell, for the approach to it was still on fire. Of all the fantastic +tricks played by the bursting shells it was the most curious. + + + + +Chapter VII +The Spirit Of The English + + + +When I left England for home I had just returned from France and +had motored many miles in both countries. Everywhere in this +greatest crisis of the century I found the people of England showing +the most undaunted and splendid spirit. To their common enemy they +are presenting an unbroken front. The civilian is playing his part just +as loyally as the soldier, the women as bravely as the men. + +They appreciate that not only their own existence is threatened, but +the future peace and welfare of the world require that the military +party of Germany must be wiped out. That is their burden, and with +the heroic Belgians to inspire them, without a whimper or a whine of +self-pity, they are bearing their burden. + +Every one in England is making sacrifices great and small. As long +ago as the middle of September it was so cold along the Aisne that I +have seen the French, sooner than move away from the open fires +they had made, risk the falling shells. Since then it has grown much +colder, and Kitchener issued an invitation to the English people to +send in what blankets they could spare for the army in the field and in +reserve. The idea was to dye the blankets khaki and then turn them +over to the supply department. In one week, so eagerly did the +people respond to this appeal, Kitchener had to publish a card stating +that no more blankets were needed. He had received over half a +million. + +The reply to Kitchener's appeal for recruits was as prompt and +generous. The men came so rapidly that the standard for enlistment +was raised. That is, I believe, in the history of warfare without +precedent. Nations often have lowered their requirements for +enlistment, but after war was once well under way to make recruiting +more difficult is new. The sacrifices are made by every class. + +There is no business enterprise of any sort that has not shown itself +unselfish. This is true of the greengrocery, the bank, the department +store, the Cotton Exchange. Each of these has sent employees to the +front, and while they are away is paying their wages and, on the +chance of their return, holding their places open. Men who are not +accepted as recruits are enrolled as special constables. They are +those who could not, without facing ruin, neglect their business. They +have signed on as policemen, and each night for four hours patrol the +posts of the regular bobbies who have gone to the front. + +The ingenuity shown in finding ways in which to help the army is +equalled only by the enthusiasm with which these suggestions are +met. Just before his death at the front, Lord Roberts called upon all +racing-men, yachtsmen, and big-game shots to send him, for the use +of the officers in the field, their field-glasses. The response was +amazingly generous. + +Other people gave their pens. The men whose names are best +known to you in British literature are at the service of the government +and at this moment are writing exclusively for the Foreign Office. They +are engaged in answering the special pleading of the Germans and in +writing monographs, appeals for recruits, explanations of why +England is at war. They do not sign what they write. They are, of +course, not paid for what they write. They have their reward in +knowing that to direct public opinion fairly will be as effective in +bringing this war to a close as is sticking bayonets into Uhlans. + +The stage, as well as literature, has found many ways in which it can +serve the army. One theatre is giving all the money taken in at the +door to the Red Cross; all of them admit men in uniform free, or at +half price, and a long list of actors have gone to the front. Among +them are several who are well known in America. Robert Lorraine has +received an officer's commission in the Royal Flying Corps, and Guy +Standing in the navy. The former is reported among the wounded. +Gerald du Maurier has organized a reserve battalion of actors, artists, +and musicians. + +There is not a day passes that the most prominent members of the +theatrical world are not giving their services free to benefit +performances in aid of Belgian refugees, Red Cross societies, or to +some one of the funds under royal patronage. Whether their talent is +to act or dance, they are using it to help along the army. Seymour +Hicks and Edward Knoblauch in one week wrote a play called +"England Expects," which was an appeal in dramatic form for recruits, +and each night the play was produced recruits crowded over the +footlights. + +The old sergeants are needed to drill the new material and cannot be +spared for recruiting. And so members of Parliament and members of +the cabinet travel all over the United Kingdom--and certainly these +days it is united--on that service. Even the prime minister and the first +lord of the admiralty, Winston Churchill, work overtime in addressing +public meetings and making stirring appeals to the young men. And +wherever you go you see the young men by the thousands marching, +drilling, going through setting-up exercises. The public parks, golf- +links, even private parks like Bedford Square, are filled with them, and +in Green Park, facing the long beds of geraniums, are lines of cavalry +horses and the khaki tents of the troopers. + +Every one is helping. Each day the King and Queen and Princess +Mary review troops or visit the wounded in some hospital; and the day +before sailing, while passing Buckingham Palace, I watched the +young Prince of Wales change the guard. In a businesslike manner +he was listening to the sentries repeat their orders; and in turn a +young sergeant, also in a most businesslike manner, was in whispers +coaching the boy officer in the proper manner to guard the home of +his royal parents. Since then the young prince has gone to the front +and is fighting for his country. And the King is in France with his +soldiers. + +As the song says, all the heroes do not go to war, and the warriors at +the front are not the only ones this war has turned out-of-doors. The +number of Englishwomen who have left their homes that the Red +Cross may have the use of them for the wounded would fill a long roll +of honor. Some give an entire house, like Mrs. Waldorf Astor, who +has loaned to the wounded Cliveden, one of the best-known and +most beautiful places on the Thames. Others can give only a room. +But all over England the convalescents have been billeted in private +houses and made nobly welcome. + +Even the children of England are helping. The Boy Scouts, one of the +most remarkable developments of this decade, has in this war scored +a triumph of organization. This is equally true of the Boy Scouts in +Belgium and France. In England military duties of the most serious +nature have been intrusted to them. On the east coast they have +taken the place of the coast guards, and all over England they are +patrolling railroad junctions, guarding bridges, and carrying +despatches. Even if the young men who are now drilling in the parks +and the Boy Scouts never reach Berlin nor cross the Channel, the +training and sense of responsibility that they are now enjoying are all +for their future good. + +They are coming out of this war better men, not because they have +been taught the manual of arms, but in spite of that fact. What they +have learned is much more than that. Each of them has, for an ideal, +whether you call it a flag, or a king, or a geographical position on the +map, offered his life, and for that ideal has trained his body and +sacrificed his pleasures, and each of them is the better for it. And +when peace comes his country will be the richer and the more +powerful. + + + + +Chapter VIII +Our Diplomats In The War Zone + + + +When the war broke loose those persons in Europe it concerned the +least were the most upset about it. They were our fellow countrymen. +Even to-day, above the roar of shells, the crash of falling walls, forts, +forests, cathedrals, above the scream of shrapnel, the sobs of +widows and orphans, the cries of the wounded and dying, all over +Europe, you still can hear the shrieks of the Americans calling for their +lost suit-cases. + +For some of the American women caught by the war on the wrong +side of the Atlantic the situation was serious and distressing. There +were thousands of them travelling alone, chaperoned only by a man +from Cook's or a letter of credit. For years they had been saving to +make this trip, and had allowed themselves only sufficient money +after the trip was completed to pay the ship's stewards. Suddenly +they found themselves facing the difficulties of existence in a foreign +land without money, friends, or credit. During the first days of +mobilization they could not realize on their checks or letters. American +bank-notes and Bank of England notes were refused. Save gold, +nothing was of value, and every one who possessed a gold piece, +especially if he happened to be a banker, was clinging to it with the +desperation of a dope fiend clutching his last pill of cocaine. We can +imagine what it was like in Europe when we recall the conditions at +home. + +In New York, when I started for the seat of war, three banks in which +for years I had kept a modest balance refused me a hundred dollars +in gold, or a check, or a letter of credit. They simply put up the +shutters and crawled under the bed. So in Europe, where there +actually was war, the women tourists, with nothing but a worthless +letter of credit between them and sleeping in a park, had every +reason to be panic-stricken. But to explain the hysteria of the hundred +thousand other Americans is difficult--so difficult that while they live +they will still be explaining. The worst that could have happened to +them was temporary discomfort offset by adventures. Of those they +experienced they have not yet ceased boasting. + +On August 5th, one day after England declared war, the American +Government announced that it would send the Tennessee with a +cargo of gold. In Rome and in Paris Thomas Nelson Page and Myron +T. Herrick were assisting every American who applied to them, and +committees of Americans to care for their fellow countrymen had +been organized. All that was asked of the stranded Americans was to +keep cool and, like true sports, suffer inconvenience. Around them +were the French and English, facing the greatest tragedy of centuries, +and meeting it calmly and with noble self-sacrifice. The men were +marching to meet death, and in the streets, shops, and fields the +women were taking up the burden the men had dropped. And in the +Rue Scribe and in Cockspur Street thousands of Americans were +struggling in panic-stricken groups, bewailing the loss of a hat-box, +and protesting at having to return home second-class. Their suffering +was something terrible. In London, in the Ritz and Carlton +restaurants, American refugees, loaded down with fat pearls and +seated at tables loaded with fat food, besought your pity. The imperial +suite, which on the fast German liner was always reserved for them, +"except when Prince Henry was using it," was no longer available, +and they were subjected to the indignity of returning home on a nine- +day boat and in the captain's cabin. It made their blue blood boil; and +the thought that their emigrant ancestors had come over in the +steerage did not help a bit. + +The experiences of Judge Richard William Irwin, of the Superior +Court of Massachusetts, and his party, as related in the Paris Herald, +were heartrending. On leaving Switzerland for France they were +forced to carry their own luggage, all the porters apparently having +selfishly marched off to die for their country, and the train was not +lighted, nor did any one collect their tickets. "We have them yet!" says +Judge Irwin. He makes no complaint, he does not write to the Public- +Service Commission about it, but he states the fact. No one came to +collect his ticket, and he has it yet. Something should be done. Merely +because France is at war Judge Irwin should not be condemned to +go through life clinging to a first-class ticket. + +In another interview Judge George A. Carpenter, of the United States +Court of Chicago, takes a more cheerful view. "I can't see anything +for Americans to get hysterical about," he says. "They seem to think +their little delays and difficulties are more important than all the +troubles of Europe. For my part, I should think these people would be +glad to settle down in Paris." A wise judge! + +For the hysterical Americans it was fortunate that in the embassies +and consulates of the United States there were fellow country-men +who would not allow a war to rattle them. When the representatives of +other countries fled our people not only stayed on the job but held +down the jobs of those who were forced to move away. At no time in +many years have our diplomats and consuls appeared to such +advantage. They deserve so much credit that the administration will +undoubtedly try to borrow it. Mr. Bryan will point with pride and say: +"These men who bore themselves so well were my appointments." +Some of them were. But back of them, and coaching them, were first +and second secretaries and consuls-general and consuls who had +been long in the service and who knew the language, the short cuts, +and what ropes to pull. And they had also the assistance of every lost +and strayed, past and present American diplomat who, when the war +broke, was caught off his base. These were commandeered and put +to work, and volunteers of the American colonies were made +honorary attachés, and without pay toiled like fifteen-dollar-a-week +bookkeepers. + +In our embassy in Paris one of these latter had just finished struggling +with two American women. One would not go home by way of +England because she would not leave her Pomeranian in quarantine, +and the other because she could not carry with her twenty-two trunks. +They demanded to be sent back from Havre on a battle-ship. The +volunteer diplomat bowed. "Then I must refer you to our naval +attaché, on the first floor," he said. "Any tickets for battle-ships must +come through him." + +I suggested he was having a hard time. + +"If we remained in Paris," he said, "we all had to help. It was a choice +between volunteering to aid Mr. Herrick at the embassy or Mrs. +Herrick at the American Ambulance Hospital and tending wounded +Turcos. But between soothing terrified Americans and washing +niggers, I'm sorry now I didn't choose the hospital." + +In Paris there were two embassies running overtime; that means from +early morning until after midnight, and each with a staff enlarged to +six times the usual number. At the residence of Mr. Herrick, in the +Rue François Ier, there was an impromptu staff composed chiefly of +young American bankers, lawyers, and business men. They were +men who inherited, or who earned, incomes of from twenty thousand +to fifty thousand a year, and all day, and every day, without pay, and +certainly without thanks, they assisted their bewildered, penniless, +and homesick fellow countrymen. Below them in the cellar was stored +part of the two million five hundred thousand dollars voted by +Congress to assist the stranded Americans. It was guarded by quick- +firing guns, loaned by the French War Office, and by six petty officers +from the Tennessee. With one of them I had been a shipmate when +the Utah sailed from Vera Cruz. I congratulated him on being in Paris. + +"They say Paris is some city," he assented, "but all I've seen of it is +this courtyard. Don't tell anybody, but, on the level, I'd rather be back +in Vera Cruz!" + +The work of distributing the money was carried on in the chancelleries +of the embassy in the Rue de Chaillot. It was entirely in the hands of +American army and navy officers, twenty of whom came over on the +warship with Assistant Secretary of War Breckinridge. Major Spencer +Cosby, the military attaché of the embassy, was treasurer of the fund, +and every application for aid that had not already been investigated +by the civilian committee appointed by the ambassador was decided +upon by the officers. Mr. Herrick found them invaluable. He was +earnest in their praise. They all wanted to see the fighting; but in other +ways they served their country. + +As a kind of "king's messenger" they were sent to our other +embassies, to the French Government at Bordeaux, and in command +of expeditions to round up and convoy back to Paris stranded +Americans in Germany and Switzerland. Their training, their habit of +command and of thinking for others, their military titles helped them to +success. By the French they were given a free road, and they were +not only of great assistance to others, but what they saw of the war +and of the French army will be of lasting benefit to themselves. +Among them were officers of every branch of the army and navy and +of the marine and aviation corps. Their reports to the War +Department, if ever they are made public, will be mighty interesting +reading. + +The regular staff of the embassy was occupied not only with +Americans but with English, Germans, and Austrians. These latter +stood in a long line outside the embassy, herded by gendarmes. That +line never seemed to grow less. Myron T. Herrick, our ambassador, +was at the embassy from early in the morning until midnight. He was +always smiling, helpful, tactful, optimistic. Before the war came he +was already popular, and the manner in which he met the dark days, +when the Germans were within fifteen miles of Paris, made him +thousands of friends. He never asked any of his staff to work harder +than he worked himself, and he never knocked off and called it a +day's job before they did. Nothing seemed to worry or daunt him; +neither the departure of the other diplomats, when the government +moved to Bordeaux and he was left alone, nor the advancing +Germans and threatened siege of Paris, nor even falling bombs. + +Herrick was as democratic as he was efficient. For his exclusive use +there was a magnificent audience-chamber, full of tapestry, ormolu +brass, Sèvres china, and sunshine. But of its grandeur the +ambassador would grow weary, and every quarter-hour he would +come out into the hall crowded with waiting English and Americans. +There, assisted by M. Charles, who is as invaluable to our +ambassadors to France as are Frank and Edward Hodson to our +ambassadors to London, he would hold an impromptu reception. It +was interesting to watch the ex-governor of Ohio clear that hall and +send everybody away smiling. Having talked to his ambassador +instead of to a secretary, each went off content. In the hall one +morning I found a noble lord of high degree chuckling with pleasure. + +"This is the difference between your ambassadors and ours," he said. +"An English ambassador won't let you in to see him; your American +ambassador comes out to see you." However true that may be, it was +extremely fortunate that when war came we should have had a man +at the storm-centre so admirably efficient. + +Our embassy was not embarrassed nor was it greatly helped by the +presence in Paris of two other American ambassadors: Mr. Sharp, +the ambassador-elect, and Mr. Robert Bacon, the ambassador that +was. That at such a crisis these gentlemen should have chosen to +come to Paris and remain there showed that for an ambassador tact +is not absolutely necessary. + +Mr. Herrick was exceedingly fortunate in his secretaries, Robert +Woods Bliss and Arthur H. Frazier. Their training in the diplomatic +service made them most valuable. With him, also, as a volunteer +counsellor, was H. Perceval Dodge, who, after serving in diplomatic +posts in six countries, was thrown out of the service by Mr. Bryan to +make room for a lawyer from Danville, Ky. Dodge was sent over to +assist in distributing the money voted by Congress, and Herrick, +knowing his record, signed him on to help him in the difficult task of +running the affairs of the embassies of four countries, three of which +were at war. Dodge, Bliss, and Frazier were able to care for these +embassies because, though young in years, in the diplomatic service +they have had training and experience. In this crisis they proved the +need of it. For the duties they were, and still are, called upon to +perform it is not enough that a man should have edited a democratic +newspaper or stumped the State for Bryan. A knowledge of +languages, of foreign countries, and of foreigners, their likes and their +prejudices, good manners, tact, and training may not, in the eyes of +the administration, seem necessary, but, in helping the ninety million +people in whose interest the diplomat is sent abroad, these +qualifications are not insignificant. + +One might say that Brand Whitlock, who is so splendidly holding the +fort at Brussels, in the very centre of the conflict, is not a trained +diplomat. But he started with an excellent knowledge of the French +language, and during the eight years in which he was mayor of +Toledo he must have learned something of diplomacy, responsibility, +and of the way to handle men--even German military governors. He +is, in fact, the right man in the right place. In Belgium all men, +Belgians, Americans, Germans, speak well of him. In one night he +shipped out of Brussels, in safety and comfort, five thousand +Germans; and when the German army advanced upon that city it was +largely due to him and to the Spanish minister, the Marquis Villalobar, +that Brussels did not meet the fate of Antwerp. He has a direct way of +going at things. One day, while the Belgian Government still was in +Brussels and Whitlock in charge of the German legation, the chief +justice called upon him. It was suspected, he said, that on the roof of +the German legation, concealed in the chimney, was a wireless outfit. +He came to suggest that the American minister, representing the +German interests, and the chief justice should appoint a joint +commission to investigate the truth of the rumor, to take the +testimony of witnesses, and make a report. + +"Wouldn't it be quicker," said Whitlock, "if you and I went up on the +roof and looked down the chimney?" + +The chief justice was surprised but delighted. Together they +clambered over the roof of the German legation. They found that the +wireless outfit was a rusty weather-vane that creaked. + +When the government moved to Antwerp Whitlock asked permission +to remain at the capital. He believed that in Brussels he could be of +greater service to both Americans and Belgians. And while diplomatic +corps moved from Antwerp to Ostend, and from Ostend to Havre, he +and Villalobar stuck to their posts. What followed showed Whitlock +was right. To-day from Brussels he is directing the efforts of the rest +of the world to save the people of that city and of Belgium from death +by starvation. In this he has the help of his wife, who was Miss Ella +Brainerd, of Springfield, 111, M. Gaston de Levai, a Belgian +gentleman, and Miss Caroline S. Larner, who was formerly a +secretary in the State Department, and who, when the war started, +was on a vacation in Belgium. She applied to Whitlock to aid her to +return home; instead, much to her delight, he made her one of the +legation staff. His right-hand man is Hugh C. Gibson, his first +secretary, a diplomat of experience. It is a pity that to the legation in +Brussels no military attaché was accredited. He need not have gone +out to see the war; the war would have come to him. As it was, +Gibson saw more of actual warfare than did any or all of our twenty- +eight military men in Paris. It was his duty to pass frequently through +the firing-lines on his way to Antwerp and London. He was constantly +under fire. Three times his automobile was hit by bullets. These trips +were so hazardous that Whitlock urged that he should take them. It is +said he and his secretary used to toss for it. Gibson told me he was +disturbed by the signs the Germans placed between Brussels and +Antwerp, stating that "automobiles looking as though they were on +reconnoissance" would be fired upon. He asked how an automobile +looked when it was on reconnoissance. + +Gibson is one of the few men who, after years in the diplomatic +service, refuses to take himself seriously. He is always smiling, +cheerful, always amusing, but when the dignity of his official position +is threatened he can be serious enough. When he was chargé +d'affaires in Havana a young Cuban journalist assaulted him. That +journalist is still in jail. In Brussels a German officer tried to +blue-pencil a cable Gibson was sending to the State Department. +Those who witnessed the incident say it was like a buzz-saw +cutting soft pine. + +When the present administration turned out the diplomats it spared +the consuls-general and consuls. It was fortunate for the State +Department that it showed this self-control, and fortunate for +thousands of Americans who, when the war-cloud burst, were +scattered all over Europe. Our consuls rose to the crisis and rounded +them up, supplied them with funds, special trains, and letters of +identification, and when they were arrested rescued them from jail. +Under fire from shells and during days of bombardment the American +consuls in France and Belgium remained at their posts and protected +the people of many nationalities confided to their care. Only one +showed the white feather. He first removed himself from his post, and +then was removed still farther from it by the State Department. All the +other American consuls of whom I heard in Belgium, France, and +England were covering themselves with glory and bringing credit to +their country. Nothing disturbed their calm, and at no hour could you +catch them idle or reluctant to help a fellow countryman. Their office +hours were from twelve to twelve, and each consulate had taken out +an all-night license and thrown away the key. With four other +Americans I was forced to rout one consul out of bed at two in the +morning. He was Colonel Albert W. Swalm, of Iowa, but of late years +our representative at Southampton. That port was in the military zone, +and before an American could leave it for Havre it was necessary that +his passport should be viséed in London by the French and Belgian +consuls-general and in Southampton by Colonel Swalm. We arrived +in Southampton at two in the morning to learn that the boat left at +four, and that unless, in the interval, we obtained the autograph and +seal of Colonel Swalm she would sail without us. + +In the darkness we set forth to seek our consul, and we found that, +difficult as it was to leave the docks by sea, it was just as difficult by +land. In war time two o'clock in the morning is no hour for honest men +to prowl around wharfs. So we were given to understand by very +wide-awake sentries with bayonets, policemen, and enthusiastic +special constables. But at last we reached the consulate and laid +siege. One man pressed the electric button, kicked the door, and +pounded with the knocker, others hurled pebbles at the upper +windows, and the fifth stood in the road and sang: "Oh, say, can you +see, by the dawn's early light?" + +A policeman arrested us for throwing stones at the consular sign. We +explained that we had hit the sign by accident while aiming at the +windows, and that in any case it was the inalienable right of +Americans, if they felt like it, to stone their consul's sign. He said he +always had understood we were a free people, but, "without meaning +any disrespect to you, sir, throwing stones at your consul's coat of +arms is almost, as you might say, sir, making too free." He then told +us Colonel Swalm lived in the suburbs, and in a taxicab started us +toward him. + +Scantily but decorously clad, Colonel Swalm received us, and +greeted us as courteously as though we had come to present him +with a loving-cup. He acted as though our pulling him out of bed at +two in the morning was intended as a compliment. For affixing the +seal to our passports he refused any fee. We protested that the +consuls-general of other nations were demanding fees. "I know," he +said, "but I have never thought it right to fine a man for being an +American." + +Of our ambassadors and representatives in countries in Europe other +than France and Belgium I have not written, because during this war I +have not visited those countries. But of them, also, all men speak +well. At the last election one of them was a candidate for the United +States Senate. He was not elected. The reason is obvious. + +Our people at home are so well pleased with their ambassadors in +Europe that, while the war continues, they would keep them where +they are. + + + + +Chapter IX +"Under Fire" + + + +One cold day on the Aisne, when the Germans had just withdrawn to +the east bank and the Allies held the west, the French soldiers built +huge bonfires and huddled around them. When the "Jack Johnsons," +as they call the six-inch howitzer shells that strike with a burst of black +smoke, began to fall, sooner than leave the warm fires the soldiers +accepted the chance of being hit by the shells. Their officers had to +order them back. I saw this and wrote of it. A friend refused to credit +it. He said it was against his experience. He did not believe that, for +the sake of keeping warm, men would chance being killed. + +But the incident was quite characteristic. In times of war you +constantly see men, and women, too, who, sooner than suffer +discomfort or even inconvenience, risk death. The psychology of the +thing is, I think, that a man knows very little about being dead but has +a very acute knowledge of what it is to be uncomfortable. His brain is +not able to grasp death but it is quite capable of informing him that his +fingers are cold. Often men receive credit for showing coolness and +courage in times of danger when, in reality, they are not properly +aware of the danger and through habit are acting automatically. The +girl in Chicago who went back into the Iroquois Theatre fire to rescue +her rubber overshoes was not a heroine. She merely lacked +imagination. Her mind was capable of appreciating how serious for +her would be the loss of her overshoes but not being burned alive. At +the battle of Velestinos, in the Greek-Turkish War, John F. Bass, of +The Chicago Daily News, and myself got into a trench at the foot of a +hill on which later the Greeks placed a battery. All day the Turks +bombarded this battery with a cross-fire of shrapnel and rifle-bullets +which did not touch our trench but cut off our return to Velestinos. +Sooner than pass through this crossfire, all day we crouched in the +trench until about sunset, when it came on to rain. We exclaimed with +dismay. We had neglected to bring our ponchos. "If we don't get back +to the village at once," we assured each other, "we will get wet!" So +we raced through half a mile of falling shells and bullets and, before +the rain fell, got under cover. Then Bass said: "For twelve hours we +stuck to that trench because we were afraid if we left it we would be +killed. And the only reason we ever did leave it was because we were +more afraid of catching cold!" + +In the same war I was in a trench with some infantrymen, one of +whom never raised his head. Whenever he was ordered to fire he +would shove his rifle-barrel over the edge of the trench, shut his eyes, +and pull the trigger. He took no chances. His comrades laughed at +him and swore at him, but he would only grin sheepishly and burrow +deeper. After several hours a friend in another trench held up a bag +of tobacco and some cigarette-papers and in pantomime "dared" him +to come for them. To the intense surprise of every one he scrambled +out of our trench and, exposed against the sky-line, walked to the +other trench and, while he rolled a handful of cigarettes, drew the fire +of the enemy. It was not that he was brave; he had shown that he +was not. He was merely stupid. Between death and cigarettes, his +mind could not rise above cigarettes. + +Why the same kind of people are so differently affected by danger is +very hard to understand. It is almost impossible to get a line on it. I +was in the city of Rheims for three days and two nights while it was +being bombarded. During that time fifty thousand people remained in +the city and, so far as the shells permitted, continued about their +business. The other fifty thousand fled from the city and camped out +along the road to Paris. For five miles outside Rheims they lined both +edges of that road like people waiting for a circus parade. With them +they brought rugs, blankets, and loaves of bread, and from daybreak +until night fell and the shells ceased to fall they sat in the hay-fields +and along the grass gutters of the road. Some of them were most +intelligent-looking and had the manner and clothes of the rich. There +was one family of five that on four different occasions on our way to +and from Paris we saw seated on the ground at a place certainly five +miles away from any spot where a shell had fallen. They were all in +deep mourning, but as they sat in the hay-field around a wicker tea +basket and wrapped in steamer-rugs they were comic. Their lives +were no more valuable than those of thousands of their fellow +townsfolk who in Rheims were carrying on the daily routine. These +kept the shops open or in the streets were assisting the Red Cross. + +One elderly gentleman told me how he had been seized by the +Germans as a hostage and threatened with death by hanging. With +forty other first citizens, from the 4th to the 12th of September he had +been in jail. After such an experience one would have thought that +between himself and the Germans he would have placed as many +miles as possible, but instead he was strolling around the Place du +Parvis Notre-Dame, in front of the cathedral. For the French officers +who, on sightseeing bent, were motoring into Rheims from the battle +line he was acting as a sort of guide. Pointing with his umbrella, he +would say: "On the left is the new Palace of Justice, the façade +entirely destroyed; on the right you see the palace of the archbishop, +completely wrecked. The shells that just passed over us have +apparently fallen in the garden of the Hôtel Lion d'Or." He was as cool +as the conductor on a "Seeing Rheims" observation-car. + +He was matched in coolness by our consul, William Bardel. The +American consulate is at No. 14 Rue Kellermann. That morning a +shell had hit the chestnut-tree in the garden of his neighbor, at No. +12, and had knocked all the chestnuts into the garden of the +consulate. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Mr. Bardel. + +In the bombarded city there was no rule as to how any one would act. +One house would be closed and barred, and the inmates would be +either in their own cellar or in the caves of the nearest champagne +company. To those latter they would bring books or playing-cards +and, among millions of dust-covered bottles, by candle-light, would +wait for the guns to cease. Their neighbors sat in their shops or stood +at the doors of their houses or paraded the streets. Past them their +friends were hastening, trembling with terror. Many women sat on the +front steps, knitting, and with interested eyes watched their +acquaintances fleeing toward the Paris gate. When overhead a shell +passed they would stroll, still knitting, out into the middle of the street +to see where the shell struck. + +By the noise it was quite easy to follow the flight of the shells. You +were tricked by the sound into almost believing you could see them. +The six-inch shells passed with a whistling roar that was quite +terrifying. It was as though just above you invisible telegraph-wires +had jangled, and their rush through the air was like the roar that rises +to the car window when two express-trains going in opposite +directions pass at sixty miles an hour. When these sounds assailed +them the people flying from the city would scream. Some of them, as +though they had been hit, would fall on their knees. Others were +sobbing and praying aloud. The tears rolled down their cheeks. In +their terror there was nothing ludicrous; they were in as great physical +pain as were some of the hundreds in Rheims who had been hit. And +yet others of their fellow townsmen living in the same street, and with +the same allotment of brains and nerves, were treating the +bombardment with the indifference they would show to a summer +shower. + +We had not expected to spend the night in Rheims, so, with +Ashmead Bartlett, the military expert of the London Daily Telegraph, I +went into a chemist's shop to buy some soap. The chemist, seeing I +was an American, became very much excited. He was overstocked +with an American shaving-soap, and he begged me to take it off his +hands. He would let me have it at what it cost him. He did not know +where he had placed it, and he was in great alarm lest we would +leave his shop before he could unload it on us. From both sides of +the town French artillery were firing in salvoes, the shocks shaking +the air; over the shop of the chemist shrapnel was whining, and in the +street the howitzer shells were opening up subways. But his mind +was intent only on finding that American shaving-soap. I was anxious +to get on to a more peaceful neighborhood. To French soap, to soap +"made in Germany," to neutral American soap I was indifferent. Had it +not been for the presence of Ashmead Bartlett I would have fled. To +die, even though clasping a cake of American soap, seemed less +attractive than to live unwashed. But the chemist had no time to +consider shells. He was intent only on getting rid of surplus stock. + +The majority of people who are afraid are those who refuse to +consider the doctrine of chances. The chances of their being hit may +be one in ten thousand, but they disregard the odds in their favor and +fix their minds on that one chance against them. In their imagination it +grows larger and larger. It looms red and bloodshot, it hovers over +them; wherever they go it follows, menacing, threatening, filling them +with terror. In Rheims there were one hundred thousand people, and +by shells one thousand were killed or wounded. The chances against +were a hundred to one. Those who left the city undoubtedly thought +the odds were not good enough. + +Those who on account of the bombs that fell from the German +aeroplanes into Paris left that city had no such excuse. The chance of +any one person being hit by a bomb was one in several millions. But +even with such generous odds in their favor, during the days the +bomb-dropping lasted many thousands fled. They were obsessed by +that one chance against them. In my hotel in Paris my landlady had +her mind fixed on that one chance, and regularly every afternoon +when the aeroplanes were expected she would go to bed. Just as +regularly her husband would take a pair of opera-glasses and in the +Rue de la Paix hopefully scan the sky. + +One afternoon while we waited in front of Cook's an aeroplane sailed +overhead, but so far above us that no one knew whether it was a +French air-ship scouting or a German one preparing to launch a +bomb. A man from Cook's, one of the interpreters, with a horrible +knowledge of English, said: "Taube or not Taube; that is the +question." He was told he was inviting a worse death than from a +bomb. To illustrate the attitude of mind of the Parisian, there is the +story of the street gamin who for some time, from the Garden of the +Tuileries, had been watching a German aeroplane threatening the +city. Finally, he exclaimed impatiently: + +"Oh, throw your bomb! You are keeping me from my dinner." + +A soldier under fire furnishes few of the surprises of conduct to which +the civilian treats you. The soldier has no choice. He is tied by the leg, +and whether the chances are even or ridiculously in his favor he must +accept them. The civilian can always say, "This is no place for me," +and get up and walk away. But the soldier cannot say that. He and +his officers, the Red Cross nurses, doctors, ambulance-bearers, and +even the correspondents have taken some kind of oath or signed +some kind of contract that makes it easier for them than for the +civilian to stay on the job. For them to go away would require more +courage than to remain. + +Indeed, although courage is so highly regarded, it seems to be of all +virtues the most common. In six wars, among men of nearly every +race, color, religion, and training, I have seen but four men who failed +to show courage. I have seen men who were scared, sometimes +whole regiments, but they still fought on; and that is the highest +courage, for they were fighting both a real enemy and an imaginary +one. + +There is a story of a certain politician general of our army who, under +a brisk fire, turned on one of his staff and cried: + +"Why, major, you are scared, sir; you are scared!" + +"I am," said the major, with his teeth chattering, "and if you were as +scared as I am you'd be twenty miles in the rear." + +In this war the onslaughts have been so terrific and so unceasing, the +artillery fire especially has been so entirely beyond human +experience, that the men fight in a kind of daze. Instead of arousing +fear the tumult acts as an anaesthetic. With forests uprooted, houses +smashing about them, and unseen express-trains hurtling through +space, they are too stunned to be afraid. And in time they become +fed up on battles and to the noise and danger grow callous. On the +Aisne I saw an artillery battle that stretched for fifteen miles. Both +banks of the river were wrapped in smoke; from the shells villages +miles away were in flames, and two hundred yards in front of us the +howitzer shells were bursting in black fumes. To this the French +soldiers were completely indifferent. The hills they occupied had been +held that morning by the Germans, and the trenches and fields were +strewn with their accoutrement. So all the French soldiers who were +not serving the guns wandered about seeking souvenirs. They had +never a glance for the villages burning crimson in the bright sunight or +for the falling "Jack Johnsons." + +They were intent only on finding a spiked helmet, and when they +came upon one they would give a shout of triumph and hold it up for +their comrades to see. And their comrades would laugh delightedly +and race toward them, stumbling over the furrows. They were as +happy and eager as children picking wild flowers. + +It is not good for troops to sup entirely on horrors and also to +breakfast and lunch on them. So after in the trenches one regiment +has been pounded it is withdrawn for a day or two and kept in +reserve. The English Tommies spend this period of recuperating in +playing football and cards. When the English learned this they +forwarded so many thousands of packs of cards to the distributing +depot that the War Office had to request them not to send any more. +When the English officers are granted leave of absence they do not +waste their energy on football, but motor into Paris for a bath and +lunch. At eight they leave the trenches along the Aisne and by noon +arrive at Maxim's, Voisin's, or La Rue's. Seldom does warfare present +a sharper contrast. From a breakfast of "bully" beef, eaten from a tin +plate, with in their nostrils the smell of camp-fires, dead horses, and +unwashed bodies, they find themselves seated on red velvet +cushions, surrounded by mirrors and walls of white and gold, and +spread before them the most immaculate silver, linen, and glass. And +the odors that assail them are those of truffles, white wine, and +"artechant sauce mousseline." + +It is a delight to hear them talk. The point of view of the English is so +sane and fair. In risking their legs or arms, or life itself, they see +nothing heroic, dramatic, or extraordinary. They talk of the war as +they would of a cricket-match or a day in the hunting-field. If things +are going wrong they do not whine or blame, nor when fortune smiles +are they unduly jubilant. And they are so appallingly honest and frank. +A piece of shrapnel had broken the arm of one of them, and we were +helping him to cut up his food and pour out his Scotch and soda. +Instead of making a hero or a martyr of himself, he said confidingly: +"You know, I had no right to be hit. If I had been minding my own +business I wouldn't have been hit. But Jimmie was having a hell of a +time on top of a hill, and I just ran up to have a look in. And the +beggars got me. Served me jolly well right. What?" + +I met one subaltern at La Rue's who had been given so many +commissions by his brother officers to bring back tobacco, soap, and +underclothes that all his money save five francs was gone. He still +had two days' leave of absence, and, as he truly pointed out, in Paris +even in war time five francs will not carry you far. I offered to be his +banker, but he said he would first try elsewhere. The next day I met +him on the boulevards and asked what kind of a riotous existence he +found possible on five francs. + +"I've had the most extraordinary luck," he said. "After I left you I met +my brother. He was just in from the front, and I got all his money." + +"Won't your brother need it?" I asked. + +"Not at all," said the subaltern cheerfully. "He's shot in the legs, and +they've put him to bed. Rotten luck for him, you might say, but how +lucky for me!" + +Had he been the brother who was shot in both legs he would have +treated the matter just as light-heartedly. + +One English major, before he reached his own firing-line, was hit by a +bursting shell in three places. While he was lying in the American +ambulance hospital at Neuilly the doctor said to him: + +"This cot next to yours is the only one vacant. Would you object if we +put a German in it?" + +"By no means," said the major; "I haven't seen one yet." + +The stories the English officers told us at La Rue's and Maxim's by +contrast with the surroundings were all the more grewsome. Seeing +them there it did not seem possible that in a few hours these same fit, +sun-tanned youths in khaki would be back in the trenches, or +scouting in advance of them, or that only the day before they had +been dodging death and destroying their fellow men. + +Maxim's, which now reminds one only of the last act of "The Merry +Widow," was the meeting-place for the French and English officers +from the front; the American military attachés from our embassy, +among whom were soldiers, sailors, aviators, marines; the doctors +and volunteer nurses from the American ambulance, and the +correspondents who by night dined in Paris and by day dodged arrest +and other things on the firing-line, or as near it as they could motor +without going to jail. For these Maxim's was the clearing-house for +news of friends and battles. Where once were the supper-girls and +the ladies of the gold-mesh vanity-bags now were only men in red +and blue uniforms, men in khaki, men in bandages. Among them +were English lords and French princes with titles that dated from +Agincourt to Waterloo, where their ancestors had met as enemies. +Now those who had succeeded them, as allies, were, over a sole +Marguery, discussing air-ships, armored automobiles, and +mitrailleuses. + +At one table Arthur H. Frazier, of the American embassy, would be +telling an English officer that a captain of his regiment who was +supposed to have been killed at Courtrai had, like a homing pigeon, +found his way to the hospital at Neuilly and wanted to be reported +"safe" at Lloyds. At another table a French lieutenant would describe +a raid made by the son of an American banker in Paris who is in +command of an armed automobile. "He swept his gun only once--so," +the Frenchman explained, waving his arm across the champagne +and the broiled lobster, "and he caught a general and two staff- +officers. He cut them in half." Or at another table you would listen to a +group of English officers talking in wonder of the Germans' wasteful +advance in solid formation. + +"They were piled so high," one of them relates, "that I stopped firing. +They looked like gray worms squirming about in a bait-box. I can +shoot men coming at me on their feet, but not a mess of arms and +legs." + +"I know," assents another; "when we charged the other day we had to +advance over the Germans that fell the night before, and my men +were slipping and stumbling all over the place. The bodies didn't give +them any foothold." + +"My sergeant yesterday," another relates, "turned to me and said: 'It +isn't cricket. There's no game in shooting into a target as big as that. +It's just murder.' I had to order him to continue firing." + +They tell of it without pose or emotion. It is all in the day's work. Most +of them are young men of wealth, of ancient family, cleanly bred +gentlemen of England, and as they nod and leave the restaurant we +know that in three hours, wrapped in a greatcoat, each will be +sleeping in the earth trenches, and that the next morning the shells +will wake him. + + + + +Chapter X +The Waste of War + + + +In this war, more than in other campaigns, the wastefulness is +apparent. In other wars, what to the man at home was most +distressing was the destruction of life. He measured the importance +of the conflict by the daily lists of killed and wounded. But in those +wars, except human life, there was little else to destroy. The war in +South Africa was fought among hills of stone, across vacant stretches +of prairie. Not even trees were destroyed, because there were no +trees. In the district over which the armies passed there were not +enough trees to supply the men with fire-wood. In Manchuria, with the +Japanese, we marched for miles without seeing even a mud village, +and the approaches to Port Arthur were as desolate as our Black +Hills. The Italian-Turkish War was fought in the sands of a desert, and +in the Balkan War few had heard of the cities bombarded until they +read they were in flames. But this war is being waged in that part of +the world best known to the rest of the world. + +Every summer hundreds of thousands of Americans, on business or +on pleasure bent, travelled to the places that now daily are being +taken or retaken or are in ruins. At school they had read of these +places in their history books and later had visited them. In +consequence, in this war they have a personal and an intelligent +interest. It is as though of what is being destroyed they were part +owners. + +Toward Europe they are as absentee landlords. It was their pleasure- +ground and their market. And now that it is being laid low the utter +wastefulness of war is brought closer to this generation than ever +before. Loss of life in war has not been considered entirely wasted, +because the self-sacrifice involved ennobled it. And the men who +went out to war knew what they might lose. Neither when, in the +pursuits of peace, human life is sacrificed is it counted as wasted. +The pioneers who were killed by the Indians or who starved to death +in what then were deserts helped to carry civilization from the Atlantic +to the Pacific. Only ten years ago men were killed in learning to +control the "horseless wagons," and now sixty-horsepower cars are +driven by women and young girls. Later the air-ship took its toll of +human life. Nor, in view of the possibilities of the air-ships in the +future, can it be said those lives were wasted. But, except life, there +was no other waste. To perfect the automobile and the air-ship no +women were driven from home and the homes destroyed. No +churches were bombarded. Men in this country who after many years +had built up a trade in Europe were not forced to close their mills and +turn into the streets hundreds of working men and women. + +It is in the by-products of the war that the waste, cruelty, and stupidity +of war are most apparent. It is the most innocent who suffer and +those who have the least offended who are the most severely +punished. The German Emperor wanted a place in the sun, and, +having decided that the right moment to seize it had arrived, declared +war. As a direct result, Mary Kelly, a telephone girl at the Wistaria +Hotel, in New York, is looking for work. It sounds like an O. Henry +story, but, except for the name of the girl and the hotel, it is not +fiction. She told me about it one day on my return to New York, +on Broadway. + +"I'm looking for work," she said, "and I thought if you remembered me +you might give me a reference. I used to work at Sherry's and at the +Wistaria Hotel. But I lost my job through the war." How the war in +Europe could strike at a telephone girl in New York was puzzling; but +Mary Kelly made it clear. "The Wistaria is very popular with +Southerners," she explained, "They make their money in cotton and +blow it in New York. But now they can't sell their cotton, and so they +have no money, and so they can't come to New York. And the hotel +is run at a loss, and the proprietor discharged me and the other girl, +and the bellboys are tending the switchboard. I've been a month +trying to get work. But everybody gives me the same answer. They're +cutting down the staff on account of the war. I've walked thirty miles a +day looking for a job, and I'm nearly all in. How long do you think this +war will last?" This telephone girl looking for work is a tiny by-product +of war. She is only one instance of efficiency gone to waste. + +The reader can think of a hundred other instances. In his own life he +can show where in his pleasures, his business, in his plans for the +future the war has struck at him and has caused him inconvenience, +loss, or suffering. He can then appreciate how much greater are the +loss and suffering to those who live within the zone of fire. In Belgium +and France the vacant spaces are very few, and the shells fall among +cities and villages lying so close together that they seem to touch +hands. For hundreds of years the land has been cultivated, the fields, +gardens, orchards tilled and lovingly cared for. The roads date back +to the days of Caesar. The stone farmhouses, as well as the stone +churches, were built to endure. And for centuries, until this war came, +they had endured. After the battle of Waterloo some of these stone +farmhouses found themselves famous. In them Napoleon or +Wellington had spread his maps or set up his cot, and until this war +the farmhouses of Mont-Saint-Jean, of Caillou, of Haie-Sainte, of the +Belle-Alliance remained as they were on the day of the great battle a +hundred years ago. They have received no special care, the +elements have not spared them nor caretakers guarded them. They +still were used as dwellings, and it was only when you recognized +them by having seen them on the post-cards that you distinguished +them from thousands of other houses, just as old and just as well +preserved, that stretched from Brussels to Liege. + +But a hundred years after this war those other houses will not be +shown on picture post-cards. King Albert and his staff may have +spent the night in them, but the next day Von Kluck and his army +passed, and those houses that had stood for three hundred years +were destroyed. In the papers you have seen many pictures of the +shattered roofs and the streets piled high with fallen walls and lined +with gaping cellars over which once houses stood. The walls can be +rebuilt, but what was wasted and which cannot be rebuilt are the +labor, the saving, the sacrifices that made those houses not mere +walls but homes. A house may be built in a year or rented overnight; it +takes longer than that to make it a home. The farmers and peasants +in Belgium had spent many hours of many days in keeping their +homes beautiful, in making their farms self-supporting. After the work +of the day was finished they had planted gardens, had reared fruit- +trees, built arbors; under them at mealtime they sat surrounded by +those of their own household. To buy the horse and the cow they had +pinched and saved; to make the gardens beautiful and the fields +fertile they had sweated and slaved, the women as well as the men; +even the watch-dog by day was a beast of burden. + +When, in August, I reached Belgium between Brussels and Liege, the +whole countryside showed the labor of these peasants. Unlike the +American farmer, they were too poor to buy machines to work for +them, and with scythes and sickles in hand they cut the grain; with +heavy flails they beat it. All that you saw on either side of the road that +was fertile and beautiful was the result of their hard, unceasing +personal effort. Then the war came, like a cyclone, and in three +weeks the labor of many years was wasted. The fields were torn with +shells, the grain was in flames, torches destroyed the villages, by the +roadside were the carcasses of the cows that had been killed to feed +the invader, and the horses were carried off harnessed to gray gun- +carriages. These were the things you saw on every side, from +Brussels to the German border. The peasants themselves were +huddled beneath bridges. They were like vast camps of gypsies, +except that, less fortunate than the gypsy, they had lost what he +neither possesses nor desires, a home. As the enemy advanced the +inhabitants of one village would fly for shelter to the next, only by the +shells to be whipped farther forward; and so, each hour growing in +number, the refugees fled toward Brussels and the coast. They were +an army of tramps, of women and children tramps, sleeping in the +open fields, beneath the hayricks seeking shelter from the rain, living +on the raw turnips and carrots they had plucked from the deserted +vegetable gardens. The peasants were not the only ones who +suffered. The rich and the noble-born were as unhappy and as +homeless. They had credit, and in the banks they had money, but +they could not get at the money; and when a château and a +farmhouse are in flames, between them there is little choice. + +Three hours after midnight on the day the Germans began their three +days' march through Brussels I had crossed the Square Rogier to +send a despatch by one of the many last trains for Ostend. When I +returned to the Palace Hotel, seated on the iron chairs on the +sidewalk were a woman, her three children, and two maid servants. +The woman was in mourning, which was quite new, for, though the +war was only a month old, many had been killed, among them her +husband. The day before, at Tirlemont, shells had destroyed her +château, and she was on her way to England. She had around her +neck two long strings of pearls, the maids each held a small hand- +bag, her boy clasped in his arms a forlorn and sleepy fox-terrier, and +each of the little girls was embracing a bird-cage. In one was a +canary, in the other a parrot. That was all they had saved. In their way +they were just as pathetic as the peasants sleeping under the +hedges. They were just as homeless, friendless, just as much in +need of food and sleep, and in their eyes was the same look of fear +and horror. Bernhardi tells his countrymen that war is glorious, heroic, +and for a nation an economic necessity. Instead, it is stupid, +unintelligent. It creates nothing; it only wastes. + +If it confined itself to destroying forts and cradles of barbed wire then +it would be sufficiently hideous. But it strikes blindly, brutally; it +tramples on the innocent and the beautiful. It is the bull in the china +shop and the mad dog who snaps at children who are trying only +to avoid him. People were incensed at the destruction in Louvain +of the library, the Catholic college, the Church of St. Pierre that dated +from the thirteenth century. These buildings belonged to the world, +and over their loss the world was rightfully indignant, but in Louvain +there were also shops and manufactories, hotels and private houses. +Each belonged, not to the world, but to one family. These individual +families made up a city of forty-five thousand people. In two days +there was not a roof left to cover one of them. The trade those people +had built up had been destroyed, the "good-will and fixings," the +stock on the shelves and in the storerooms, the goods in the +shop-windows, the portraits in the drawing-room, the souvenirs and +family heirlooms, the love-letters, the bride's veil, the baby's first +worsted shoes, and the will by which some one bequeathed to his +beloved wife all his worldly goods. + +War came and sent all these possessions, including the will and the +worldly goods, up into the air in flames. Most of the people of Louvain +made their living by manufacturing church ornaments and brewing +beer. War was impartial, and destroyed both the beer and the church +ornaments. It destroyed also the men who made them, and it drove +the women and children into concentration camps. When first I visited +Louvain it was a brisk, clean, prosperous city. The streets were +spotless, the shop-windows and cafés were modern, rich-looking, +inviting, and her great churches and Hôtel de Ville gave to the city +grace and dignity. Ten days later, when I again saw it, Louvain was in +darkness, lit only by burning buildings. Rows and rows of streets were +lined with black, empty walls. Louvain was a city of the past, another +Pompeii, and her citizens were being led out to be shot. The fate of +Louvain was the fate of Vise, of Malines, of Tirlemont, of Liege, of +hundreds of villages and towns, and by the time this is printed it will +be the fate of hundreds of other towns over all of Europe. In this war +the waste of horses is appalling. Those that first entered Brussels with +the German army had been bred and trained for the purposes of war, +and they were magnificent specimens. Every one who saw them +exclaimed ungrudgingly in admiration. But by the time the army +reached the approaches of Paris the forced marches had so depleted +the stock of horses that for remounts the Germans were seizing all +they met. Those that could not keep up were shot. For miles along +the road from Meaux to Soissons and Rheims their bodies tainted the +air. + +They had served their purposes, and after six weeks of campaigning +the same animals that in times of peace would have proved faithful +servants for many years were destroyed that they might not fall into +the hands of the French. Just as an artillery-man spikes his gun, the +Germans on their retreat to the Aisne River left in their wake no horse +that might assist in their pursuit. As they withdrew they searched each +stable yard and killed the horses. In village after village I saw horses +lying in the stalls or in the fields still wearing the harness of the +plough, or in groups of three or four in the yard of a barn, each with a +bullet-hole in its temple. They were killed for fear they might be useful. + +Waste can go no further. Another example of waste were the motor- +trucks and automobiles. When the war began the motor-trucks of the +big department stores and manufacturers and motor-buses of +London, Paris, and Berlin were taken over by the different armies. +They had cost them from two thousand to three thousand dollars +each, and in times of peace, had they been used for the purposes for +which they were built, would several times over have paid for +themselves. But war gave them no time to pay even for their tires. +You saw them by the roadside, cast aside like empty cigarette-boxes. +A few hours' tinkering would have set them right. They were still good +for years of service. But an army in retreat or in pursuit has no time to +waste in repairing motors. To waste the motor is cheaper. + +Between Villers-Cotterets and Soissons the road was strewn with +high-power automobiles and motor-trucks that the Germans had +been forced to destroy. Something had gone wrong, something that +at other times could easily have been mended. But with the French in +pursuit there was no time to pause, nor could cars of such value be +left to the enemy. So they had been set on fire or blown up, or +allowed to drive head-on into a stone wall or over an embankment. +From the road above we could see them in the field below, lying like +giant turtles on their backs. In one place in the forest of Villers was a +line of fifteen trucks, each capable of carrying five tons. The gasolene +to feed them had become exhausted, and the whole fifteen had been +set on fire. In war this is necessary, but it was none the less waste. +When an army takes the field it must consider first its own safety; and +to embarrass the enemy everything else must be sacrificed. It cannot +consider the feelings or pockets of railroad or telegraph companies. It +cannot hesitate to destroy a bridge because that bridge cost five +hundred thousand dollars. And it does not hesitate. + +Motoring from Paris to the front these days is a question of avoiding +roads rendered useless because a broken bridge has cut them in +half. All over France are these bridges of iron, of splendid masonry, +some decorated with statues, some dating back hundreds of years, +but now with a span blown out or entirely destroyed and sprawling in +the river. All of these material things--motor-cars, stone bridges, +railroad-tracks, telegraph-lines--can be replaced. Money can restore +them. But money cannot restore the noble trees of France and +Belgium, eighty years old or more, that shaded the roads, that made +beautiful the parks and forests. For military purposes they have been +cut down or by artillery fire shattered into splinters. They will again +grow, but eighty years is a long time to wait. + +Nor can money replace the greatest waste of all--the waste in "killed, +wounded, and missing." The waste of human life in this war is so +enormous, so far beyond our daily experience, that disasters less +appalling are much easier to understand. The loss of three people in +an automobile accident comes nearer home than the fact that at the +battle of Sezanne thirty thousand men were killed. Few of us are +trained to think of men in such numbers--certainly not of dead men in +such numbers. We have seen thirty thousand men together only +during the world's series or at the championship football matches. To +get an idea of the waste of this war we must imagine all of the +spectators at a football match between Yale and Harvard suddenly +stricken dead. We must think of all the wives, children, friends +affected by the loss of those thirty thousand, and we must multiply +those thirty thousand by hundreds, and imagine these hundreds of +thousands lying dead in Belgium, in Alsace-Lorraine, and within ten +miles of Paris. After the Germans were repulsed at Meaux and at +Sezanne the dead of both armies were so many that they lay +intermingled in layers three and four deep. They were buried in long +pits and piled on top of each other like cigars in a box. Lines of fresh +earth so long that you mistook them for trenches intended to conceal +regiments were in reality graves. Some bodies lay for days uncovered +until they had lost all human semblance. They were so many you +ceased to regard them even as corpses. They had become just a +part of the waste, a part of the shattered walls, uprooted trees, and +fields ploughed by shells. What once had been your fellow men were +only bundles of clothes, swollen and shapeless, like scarecrows +stuffed with rags, polluting the air. + +The wounded were hardly less pitiful. They were so many and so +thickly did they fall that the ambulance service at first was not +sufficient to handle them. They lay in the fields or forests sometimes +for a day before they were picked up, suffering unthinkable agony. +And after they were placed in cars and started back toward Paris the +tortures continued. Some of the trains of wounded that arrived +outside the city had not been opened in two days. The wounded had +been without food or water. They had not been able to move from the +positions in which in torment they had thrown themselves. The foul air +had produced gangrene. And when the cars were opened the stench +was so fearful that the Red Cross people fell back as though from a +blow. For the wounded Paris is full of hospitals--French, English, and +American. And the hospitals are full of splendid men. Each one once +had been physically fit or he would not have been passed to the front; +and those among them who are officers are finely bred, finely +educated, or they would not be officers. But each matched his good +health, his good breeding, and knowledge against a broken piece of +shell or steel bullet, and the shell or bullet won. They always will win. +Stephen Crane called a wound "the red badge of courage." It is all of +that. And the man who wears that badge has all my admiration. But I +cannot help feeling also the waste of it. I would have a standing army +for the same excellent reason that I insure my house; but, except in +self-defence, no war. For war--and I have seen a lot of it--is waste. +And waste is unintelligent. + + + + +Chapter XI +War Correspondents + + + +The attitude of the newspaper reader toward the war correspondent +who tries to supply him with war news has always puzzled me. + +One might be pardoned for suggesting that their interests are the +same. If the correspondent is successful, the better service he +renders the reader. The more he is permitted to see at the front, the +more news he is allowed to cable home, the better satisfied should be +the man who follows the war through the "extras." + +But what happens is the reverse of that. Never is the "constant +reader" so delighted as when the war correspondent gets the worst of +it. It is the one sure laugh. The longer he is kept at the base, the more +he is bottled up, "deleted," censored, and made prisoner, the greater +is the delight of the man at home. He thinks the joke is on the war +correspondent. I think it is on the "constant reader." If, at breakfast, +the correspondent fails to supply the morning paper with news, the +reader claims the joke is on the news-gatherer. But if the milkman +fails to leave the milk, and the baker the rolls, is the joke on the +milkman and the baker or is it on the "constant reader"? Which goes +hungry? + +The explanation of the attitude of the "constant reader" to the +reporters seems to be that he regards the correspondent as a prying +busybody, as a sort of spy, and when he is snubbed and suppressed +he feels he is properly punished. Perhaps the reader also resents the +fact that while the correspondent goes abroad, he stops at home and +receives the news at second hand. Possibly he envies the man who +has a front seat and who tells him about it. And if you envy a man, +when that man comes to grief it is only human nature to laugh. + +You have seen unhappy small boys outside a baseball park, and one +happy boy inside on the highest seat of the grand stand, who calls +down to them why the people are yelling and who has struck out. Do +the boys on the ground love the boy in the grand stand and are they +grateful to him? No. + +Does the fact that they do not love him and are not grateful to him for +telling them the news distress the boy in the grand stand? No. For no +matter how closely he is bottled up, how strictly censored, "deleted," +arrested, searched, and persecuted, as between the man at home +and the correspondent, the correspondent will always be the more +fortunate. He is watching the march of great events, he is studying +history in the making, and all he sees is of interest. Were it not of +interest he would not have been sent to report it. He watches men +acting under the stress of all the great emotions. He sees them +inspired by noble courage, pity, the spirit of self-sacrifice, of loyalty, +and pride of race and country. + +In Cuba I saw Captain Robb Church of our army win the Medal of +Honor, in South Africa I saw Captain Towse of the Scot Greys win his +Victoria Cross. Those of us who watched him knew he had won it just +as surely as you know when a runner crosses the home plate and +scores. Can the man at home from the crook play or the home run +obtain a thrill that can compare with the sight of a man offering up his +life that other men may live? + +When I returned to New York every second man I knew greeted me +sympathetically with: "So, you had to come home, hey? They wouldn't +let you see a thing." And if I had time I told him all I saw was the +German, French, Belgian, and English armies in the field, Belgium in +ruins and flames, the Germans sacking Louvain, in the Dover Straits +dreadnoughts, cruisers, torpedo destroyers, submarines, +hydroplanes; in Paris bombs falling from air-ships and a city put to +bed at 9 o'clock; battle-fields covered with dead men; fifteen miles of +artillery firing across the Aisne at fifteen miles of artillery; the +bombardment of Rheims, with shells lifting the roofs as easily as you +would lift the cover of a chafing-dish and digging holes in the streets, +and the cathedral on fire; I saw hundreds of thousands of soldiers +from India, Senegal, Morocco, Ireland, Australia, Algiers, Bavaria, +Prussia, Scotland, saw them at the front in action, saw them +marching over the whole northern half of Europe, saw them wounded +and helpless, saw thousands of women and children sleeping under +hedges and haystacks with on every side of them their homes blazing +in flames or crashing in ruins. That was a part of what I saw. What +during the same two months did the man at home see? If he were +lucky he saw the Braves win the world's series, or the Vernon Castles +dance the fox trot. + +The war correspondents who were sent to this war knew it was to +sound their death-knell. They knew that because the newspapers that +had no correspondents at the front told them so; because the +General Staff of each army told them so; because every man they +met who stayed at home told them so. Instead of taking their death- +blow lying down they went out to meet it. In other wars as rivals they +had fought to get the news; in this war they were fighting for their +professional existence, for their ancient right to stand on the firing- +line, to report the facts, to try to describe the indescribable. If their +death-knell sounded they certainly did not hear it. If they were licked +they did not know it. In the twenty-five years in which I have followed +wars, in no other war have I seen the war correspondents so well +prove their right to march with armies. The happy days when they +were guests of the army, when news was served to them by the men +who made the news, when Archibald Forbes and Frank Millet shared +the same mess with the future Czar of Russia, when MacGahan slept +in the tent with Skobeleff and Kipling rode with Roberts, have passed. +Now, with every army the correspondent is as popular as a floating +mine, as welcome as the man dropping bombs from an air-ship. The +hand of every one is against him. "Keep out! This means you!" is the +way they greet him. Added to the dangers and difficulties they must +overcome in any campaign, which are only what give the game its +flavor, they are now hunted, harassed, and imprisoned. But the new +conditions do not halt them. They, too, are fighting for their place in +the sun. I know one man whose name in this war has been signed to +despatches as brilliant and as numerous as those of any +correspondent, but which for obvious reasons is not given here. He +was arrested by one army, kept four days in a cell, and then warned if +he was again found within the lines of that army he would go to jail for +six months; one month later he was once more arrested, and told if +he again came near the front he would go to prison for two years. +Two weeks later he was back at the front. Such a story causes the +teeth of all the members of the General Staff to gnash with fury. You +can hear them exclaiming: "If we caught that man we would treat him +as a spy." And so unintelligent are they on the question of +correspondents that they probably would. + +When Orville Wright hid himself in South Carolina to perfect his flying- +machine he objected to what he called the "spying" of the +correspondents. One of them rebuked him. "You have discovered +something," he said, "in which the whole civilized world is interested. +If it is true you have made it possible for man to fly, that discovery is +more important than your personal wishes. Your secret is too +valuable for you to keep to yourself. We are not spies. We are +civilization demanding to know if you have something that more +concerns the whole world than it can possibly concern you." + +As applied to war, that point of view is equally just. The army calls for +your father, husband, son--calls for your money. It enters upon a war +that destroys your peace of mind, wrecks your business, kills the men +of your family, the man you were going to marry, the son you brought +into the world. And to you the army says: "This is our war. We will +fight it in our own way, and of it you can learn only what we choose to +tell you. We will not let you know whether your country is winning the +fight or is in danger, whether we have blundered and the soldiers are +starving, whether they gave their lives gloriously or through our lack +of preparation or inefficiency are dying of neglected wounds." And if +you answer that you will send with the army men to write letters home +and tell you, not the plans for the future and the secrets of the army, +but what are already accomplished facts, the army makes reply: "No, +those men cannot be trusted. They are spies." + +Not for one moment does the army honestly think those men are +spies. But it is the excuse nearest at hand. It is the easiest way out of +a situation every army, save our own, has failed to treat with +intelligence. Every army knows that there are men to-day acting, or +anxious to act, as war correspondents who can be trusted absolutely, +whose loyalty and discretion are above question, who no more would +rob their army of a military secret than they would rob a till. If the army +does not know that, it is unintelligent. That is the only crime I impute +to any general staff--lack of intelligence. + +When Captain Granville Fortescue, of the Hearst syndicate, told the +French general that his word as a war correspondent was as good as +that of any general in any army he was indiscreet, but he was merely +stating a fact. The answer of the French general was to put him in +prison. That was not an intelligent answer. + +The last time I was arrested was at Romigny, by General Asebert. I +had on me a three-thousand-word story, written that morning in +Rheims, telling of the wanton destruction of the cathedral. I asked the +General Staff, for their own good, to let the story go through. It stated +only facts which I believed were they known to civilized people would +cause them to protest against a repetition of such outrages. To get +the story on the wire I made to Lieutenant Lucien Frechet and Major +Klotz, of the General Staff, a sporting offer. For every word of my +despatch they censored I offered to give them for the Red Cross of +France five francs. That was an easy way for them to subscribe to the +French wounded three thousand dollars. To release his story Gerald +Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, made them the same offer. It +was a perfectly safe offer for Gerald to make, because a great part of +his story was an essay on Gothic architecture. Their answer was to +put both of us in the Cherche-Midi prison. The next day the censor +read my story and said to Lieutenant Frechet and Major Klotz: "But I +insist this goes at once. It should have been sent twenty-four hours +ago." + +Than the courtesy of the French officers nothing could have been +more correct, but I submit that when you earnestly wish to help a man +to have him constantly put you in prison is confusing. It was all very +well to dissemble your love. But why did you kick me down-stairs? + +There was the case of Luigi Barzini. In Italy Barzini is the D'Annunzio +of newspaper writers. Of all Italian journalists he is the best known. +On September 18, at Romigny, General Asebert arrested Barzini, and +for four days kept him in a cow stable. Except what he begged from +the gendarmes, he had no food, and he slept on straw. When I saw +him at the headquarters of the General Staff under arrest I told them +who he was, and that were I in their place I would let him see all there +was to see, and let him, as he wished, write to his people of the +excellence of the French army and of the inevitable success of the +Allies. With Italy balancing on the fence and needing very little urging +to cause her to join her fortunes with France, to choose that moment +to put Italian journalists in a cow yard struck me as dull. + +In this war the foreign offices of the different governments have been +willing to allow correspondents to accompany the army. They know +that there are other ways of killing a man than by hitting him with a +piece of shrapnel. One way is to tell the truth about him. In this entire +war nothing hit Germany so hard a blow as the publicity given to a +certain remark about a scrap of paper. But from the government the +army would not tolerate any interference. It said: "Do you want us to +run this war or do you want to run it?" Each army of the Allies treated +its own government much as Walter Camp would treat the Yale +faculty if it tried to tell him who should play right tackle. + +As a result of the ban put upon the correspondents by the armies, the +English and a few American newspapers, instead of sending into the +field one accredited representative, gave their credentials to a dozen. +These men had no other credentials. The letter each received stating +that he represented a newspaper worked both ways. When arrested +it helped to save him from being shot as a spy, and it was almost sure +to lead him to jail. The only way we could hope to win out was through +the good nature of an officer or his ignorance of the rules. Many +officers did not know that at the front correspondents were prohibited. + +As in the old days of former wars we would occasionally come upon +an officer who was glad to see some one from the base who could tell +him the news and carry back from the front messages to his friends +and family. He knew we could not carry away from him any +information of value to the enemy, because he had none to give. In a +battle front extending one hundred miles he knew only his own tiny +unit. On the Aisne a general told me the shrapnel smoke we saw two +miles away on his right came from the English artillery, and that on his +left five miles distant were the Canadians. At that exact moment the +English were at Havre and the Canadians were in Montreal. + +In order to keep at the front, or near it, we were forced to make use of +every kind of trick and expedient. An English officer who was acting +as a correspondent, and with whom for several weeks I shared the +same automobile, had no credentials except an order permitting him +to pass the policemen at the British War Office. With this he made his +way over half of France. In the corner of the pass was the seal or +coat of arms of the War Office. When a sentry halted him he would, +with great care and with an air of confidence, unfold this permit, and +with a proud smile point at the red seal. The sentry, who could not +read English, would invariably salute the coat of arms of his ally, and +wave us forward. + +That we were with allied armies instead of with one was a great help. +We would play one against the other. When a French officer halted +us we would not show him a French pass but a Belgian one, or one in +English, and out of courtesy to his ally he would permit us to proceed. +But our greatest asset always was a newspaper. After a man has +been in a dirt trench for two weeks, absolutely cut off from the entire +world, and when that entire world is at war, for a newspaper he will +give his shoes and his blanket. + +The Paris papers were printed on a single sheet and would pack as +close as bank-notes. We never left Paris without several hundred of +them, but lest we might be mobbed we showed only one. It was the +duty of one of us to hold this paper in readiness. The man who was to +show the pass sat by the window. Of all our worthless passes our rule +was always to show first the one of least value. If that failed we +brought out a higher card, and continued until we had reached the +ace. If that proved to be a two-spot, we all went to jail. Whenever we +were halted, invariably there was the knowing individual who +recognized us as newspaper men, and in order to save his country +from destruction clamored to have us hung. It was for this pest that +the one with the newspaper lay in wait. And the instant the pest +opened his lips our man in reserve would shove the Figaro at him. +"Have you seen this morning's paper?" he would ask sweetly. It +never failed us. The suspicious one would grab at the paper as a dog +snatches at a bone, and our chauffeur, trained to our team-work, +would shoot forward. + +When after hundreds of delays we did reach the firing-line, we always +announced we were on our way back to Paris and would convey +there postal cards and letters. If you were anxious to stop in any one +place this was an excellent excuse. For at once every officer and +soldier began writing to the loved ones at home, and while they wrote +you knew you would not be molested and were safe to look at the +fighting. + +It was most wearing, irritating, nerve-racking work. You knew you +were on the level. In spite of the General Staff you believed you had a +right to be where you were. You knew you had no wish to pry into +military secrets; you knew that toward the allied armies you felt only +admiration--that you wanted only to help. But no one else knew that; +or cared. Every hundred yards you were halted, cross-examined, +searched, put through a third degree. It was senseless, silly, and +humiliating. Only a professional crook with his thumb-prints and +photograph in every station-house can appreciate how from minute to +minute we lived. Under such conditions work is difficult. It does not +make for efficiency to know that any man you meet is privileged to +touch you on the shoulder and send you to prison. + +This is a world war, and my contention is that the world has a right to +know, not what is going to happen next, but at least what has +happened. If men have died nobly, if women and children have +cruelly and needlessly suffered, if for no military necessity and without +reason cities have been wrecked, the world should know that. + +Those who are carrying on this war behind a curtain, who have +enforced this conspiracy of silence, tell you that in their good time the +truth will be known. It will not. If you doubt this, read the accounts of +this war sent out from the Yser by the official "eye-witness" or +"observer" of the English General Staff. Compare his amiable gossip +in early Victorian phrases with the story of the same battle by Percival +Phillips; with the descriptions of the fall of Antwerp by Arthur Ruhl, and +the retreat to the Marne by Robert Dunn. Some men are trained to +fight, and others are trained to write. The latter can tell you of what +they have seen so that you, safe at home at the breakfast table, also +can see it. Any newspaper correspondent would rather send his +paper news than a descriptive story. But news lasts only until you +have told it to the next man, and if in this war the correspondent is not +to be permitted to send the news I submit he should at least be +permitted to tell what has happened in the past. This war is a world +enterprise, and in it every man, woman, and child is an interested +stockholder. They have a right to know what is going forward. The +directors' meetings should not be held in secret. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE ALLIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 11730-8.txt or 11730-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/7/3/11730 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** diff --git a/old/11730-8.zip b/old/11730-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2ff094 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11730-8.zip diff --git a/old/11730.txt b/old/11730.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7da99d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11730.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4527 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, With the Allies, by Richard Harding Davis + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: With the Allies + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: March 27, 2004 [eBook #11730] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE ALLIES*** + + +E-text prepared by A. Langley + + + +WITH THE ALLIES + +by + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + + + + + + +Preface + + +I have not seen the letter addressed by President Wilson to the +American people calling upon them to preserve toward this war the +mental attitude of neutrals. But I have seen the war. And I feel sure +had President Wilson seen my war he would not have written his +letter. + +This is not a war against Germans, as we know Germans in America, +where they are among our sanest, most industrious, and most +responsible fellow countrymen. It is a war, as Winston Churchill has +pointed out, against the military aristocracy of Germany, men who are +six hundred years behind the times; who, to preserve their class +against democracy, have perverted to the uses of warfare, to the +destruction of life, every invention of modern times. These men are +military mad. To our ideal of representative government their own +idea is as far opposed as is martial law to the free speech of our town +meetings. + +One returning from the war is astonished to find how little of the true +horror of it crosses the ocean. That this is so is due partly to the strict +censorship that suppresses the details of the war, and partly to the +fact that the mind is not accustomed to consider misery on a scale so +gigantic. The loss of hundreds of thousands of lives, the wrecking of +cities, and the laying waste of half of Europe cannot be brought home +to people who learn of it only through newspapers and moving +pictures and by sticking pins in a map. Were they nearer to it, near +enough to see the women and children fleeing from the shells and to +smell the dead on the battle-fields, there would be no talk of +neutrality. + +Such lack of understanding our remoteness from the actual seat of +war explains. But on the part of many Americans one finds another +attitude of mind which is more difficult to explain. It is the cupidity +that in the misfortunes of others sees only a chance for profit. In +an offer made to its readers a prominent American magazine +best expresses this attitude. It promises prizes for the essays +on "What the war means to me." + +To the American women Miss Ida M. Tar-bell writes: "This is her time +to learn what her own country's industries can do, and to rally with all +her influence to their support, urging them to make the things she +wants, and pledging them her allegiance." + +This appeal is used in a periodical with a circulation of over a million, +as an advertisement for silk hose. I do not agree with Miss Tarbell +that this is the time to rally to the support of home industries. I do not +agree with the advertiser that when in Belgium several million women +and children are homeless, starving, and naked that that is the time +to buy his silk hose. To urge that charity begins at home is to repeat +one of the most selfish axioms ever uttered, and in this war to urge +civilized, thinking people to remain neutral is equally selfish. + +Were the conflict in Europe a fair fight, the duty of every American +would be to keep on the side-lines and preserve an open mind. But it +is not a fair fight. To devastate a country you have sworn to protect, +to drop bombs upon unfortified cities, to lay sunken mines, to levy +blackmail by threatening hostages with death, to destroy cathedrals is +not to fight fair. + +That is the way Germany is fighting. She is defying the rules of war +and the rules of humanity. And if public opinion is to help in +preventing further outrages, and in hastening this unspeakable +conflict to an end, it should be directed against the one who offends. +If we are convinced that one opponent is fighting honestly and that +his adversary is striking below the belt, then for us to maintain a +neutral attitude of mind is unworthy and the attitude of a coward. + +When a mad dog runs amuck in a village it is the duty of every farmer +to get his gun and destroy it, not to lock himself indoors and toward +the dog and the men who face him preserve a neutral mind. + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. +NEW YORK, Dec. 1st, 1914. + + + + + +Contents + + I. The Germans In Brussels + II. "To Be Treated As A Spy" + III. The Burning Of Louvain + IV. Paris In War Time + V. The Battle Of Soissons + VI. The Bombardment Of Rheims + VII. The Spirit Of The English +VIII. Our Diplomats In The War Zone + IX. "Under Fire" + X. The Waste Of War + XI. The War Correspondents + + + + + +Chapter I +The Germans In Brussels + + + +When, on August 4, the Lusitania, with lights doused and air-ports +sealed, slipped out of New York harbor the crime of the century was +only a few days old. And for three days those on board the Lusitania +of the march of the great events were ignorant. Whether or no +between England and Germany the struggle for the supremacy of the +sea had begun we could not learn. + +But when, on the third day, we came on deck the news was written +against the sky. Swinging from the funnels, sailors were painting out +the scarlet-and-black colors of the Cunard line and substituting a +mouse-like gray. Overnight we had passed into the hands of the +admiralty, and the Lusitania had emerged a cruiser. That to possible +German war-ships she might not disclose her position, she sent no +wireless messages. But she could receive them; and at breakfast in +the ship's newspaper appeared those she had overnight snatched +from the air. Among them, without a scare-head, in the most modest +of type, we read: "England and Germany have declared war." Seldom +has news so momentous been conveyed so simply or, by the +Englishmen on board, more calmly accepted. For any exhibition they +gave of excitement or concern, the news the radio brought them +might have been the result of a by-election. + +Later in the morning they gave us another exhibition of that +repression of feeling, of that disdain of hysteria, that is a national +characteristic, and is what Mr. Kipling meant when he wrote: "But oh, +beware my country, when my country grows polite!" + +Word came that in the North Sea the English war-ships had +destroyed the German fleet. To celebrate this battle which, were the +news authentic, would rank with Trafalgar and might mean the end of +the war, one of the ship's officers exploded a detonating bomb. +Nothing else exploded. Whatever feelings of satisfaction our English +cousins experienced they concealed. + +Under like circumstances, on an American ship, we would have tied +down the siren, sung the doxology, and broken everything on the bar. +As it was, the Americans instinctively flocked to the smoking-room +and drank to the British navy. While this ceremony was going +forward, from the promenade-deck we heard tumultuous shouts and +cheers. We believed that, relieved of our presence, our English +friends had given way to rejoicings. But when we went on deck we +found them deeply engaged in cricket. The cheers we had heard +were over the retirement of a batsman who had just been given out, +leg before wicket. + +When we reached London we found no idle boasting, no vainglorious +jingoism. The war that Germany had forced upon them the English +accepted with a grim determination to see it through and, while they +were about it, to make it final. They were going ahead with no false +illusions. Fully did every one appreciate the enormous task, the +personal loss that lay before him. But each, in his or her way, went +into the fight determined to do his duty. There was no dismay, no +hysteria, no "mafficking." + +The secrecy maintained by the press and the people regarding +anything concerning the war, the knowledge of which might +embarrass the War Office, was one of the most admirable and +remarkable conspiracies of silence that modern times have known. +Officers of the same regiment even with each other would not discuss +the orders they had received. In no single newspaper, with no matter +how lurid a past record for sensationalism, was there a line to suggest +that a British army had landed in France and that Great Britain was at +war. Sooner than embarrass those who were conducting the fight, the +individual English man and woman in silence suffered the most cruel +anxiety of mind. Of that, on my return to London from Brussels, I was +given an illustration. I had written to The Daily Chronicle telling where +in Belgium I had seen a wrecked British airship, and beside it the +grave of the aviator. I gave the information in order that the family of +the dead officer might find the grave and bring the body home. The +morning the letter was published an elderly gentleman, a retired +officer of the navy, called at my rooms. His son, he said, was an +aviator, and for a month of him no word had come. His mother was +distressed. Could I describe the air-ship I had seen? + +I was not keen to play the messenger of ill tidings, so I tried to gain +time. + +"What make of aeroplane does your son drive?" I asked. + +As though preparing for a blow, the old gentleman drew himself up, +and looked me steadily in the eyes. + +"A Bleriot monoplane," he said. + +I was as relieved as though his boy were one of my own kinsmen. + +"The air-ship I saw," I told him, "was an Avro biplane!" + +Of the two I appeared much the more pleased. + +The retired officer bowed. + +"I thank you," he said. "It will be good news for his mother." + +"But why didn't you go to the War Office?" I asked. + +He reproved me firmly. + +"They have asked us not to question them," he said, "and when they +are working for all I have no right to embarrass them with my personal +trouble." + +As the chance of obtaining credentials with the British army appeared +doubtful, I did not remain in London, but at once crossed to Belgium. + +Before the Germans came, Brussels was an imitation Paris-- +especially along the inner boulevards she was Paris at her best. And +her great parks, her lakes gay with pleasure-boats or choked with lily- +pads, her haunted forests, where your taxicab would startle the wild +deer, are the most beautiful I have ever seen in any city in the world. +As, in the days of the Second Empire, Louis Napoleon bedecked +Paris, so Leopold decorated Brussels. In her honor and to his own +glory he gave her new parks, filled in her moats along her ancient +fortifications, laid out boulevards shaded with trees, erected arches, +monuments, museums. That these jewels he hung upon her neck +were wrung from the slaves of the Congo does not make them the +less beautiful. And before the Germans came the life of the people of +Brussels was in keeping with the elegance, beauty, and joyousness +of their surroundings. + +At the Palace Hotel, which is the clearing-house for the social life of +Brussels, we found everybody taking his ease at a little iron table on +the sidewalk. It was night, but the city was as light as noonday-- +brilliant, elated, full of movement and color. For Liege was still held by +the Belgians, and they believed that all along the line they were +holding back the German army. It was no wonder they were jubilant. +They had a right to be proud. They had been making history. In order +to give them time to mobilize, the Allies had asked them for two days +to delay the German invader. They had held him back for fifteen. As +David went against Goliath, they had repulsed the German. And as +yet there had been no reprisals, no destruction of cities, no murdering +of non-combatants; war still was something glad and glorious. + +The signs of it were the Boy Scouts, everywhere helping every one, +carrying messages, guiding strangers, directing traffic; and Red +Cross nurses and aviators from England, smart Belgian officers +exclaiming bitterly over the delay in sending them forward, and +private automobiles upon the enamelled sides of which the transport +officer with a piece of chalk had scratched, "For His Majesty," and +piled the silk cushions high with ammunition. From table to table +young girls passed jangling tiny tin milk-cans. They were supplicants, +begging money for the wounded. There were so many of them and +so often they made their rounds that, to protect you from themselves, +if you subscribed a lump sum, you were exempt and were given a +badge to prove you were immune. + +Except for these signs of the times you would not have known +Belgium was at war. The spirit of the people was undaunted. Into their +daily lives the conflict had penetrated only like a burst of martial +music. Rather than depressing, it inspired them. Wherever you +ventured, you found them undismayed. And in those weeks during +which events moved so swiftly that now they seem months in the +past, we were as free as in our own "home town" to go where we +chose. + +For the war correspondent those were the happy days! Like every +one else, from the proudest nobleman to the boy in wooden shoes, +we were given a laissez-passer, which gave us permission to go +anywhere; this with a passport was our only credential. Proper +credentials to accompany the army in the field had been formerly +refused me by the war officers of England, France, and Belgium. So +in Brussels each morning I chartered an automobile and without +credentials joined the first army that happened to be passing. +Sometimes you stumbled upon an escarmouche, sometimes you fled +from one, sometimes you drew blank. Over our early coffee we would +study the morning papers and, as in the glad days of racing at home, +from them try to dope out the winners. If we followed La Derniere +Heure we would go to Namur; L'Etoile was strong for Tirlemont. +Would we lose if we plunged on Wavre? Again, the favorite seemed +to be Louvain. On a straight tip from the legation the English +correspondents were going to motor to Diest. From a Belgian officer +we had been given inside information that the fight would be pulled off +at Gembloux. And, unencumbered by even a sandwich, and too wise +to carry a field-glass or a camera, each would depart upon his +separate errand, at night returning to a perfectly served dinner and a +luxurious bed. For the news-gatherers it was a game of chance. The +wisest veterans would cast their nets south and see only harvesters +in the fields, the amateurs would lose their way to the north and find +themselves facing an army corps or running a gauntlet of shell-fire. It +was like throwing a handful of coins on the table hoping that one +might rest upon the winning number. Over the map of Belgium we +threw ourselves. Some days we landed on the right color, on others +we saw no more than we would see at state manoeuvres. Judging by +his questions, the lay brother seems to think that the chief trouble of +the war correspondent is dodging bullets. It is not. It consists in trying +to bribe a station-master to carry you on a troop train, or in finding +forage for your horse. What wars I have seen have taken place in +spots isolated and inaccessible, far from the haunts of men. By day +you followed the fight and tried to find the censor, and at night you sat +on a cracker-box and by the light of a candle struggled to keep awake +and to write deathless prose. In Belgium it was not like that. The +automobile which Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, and +I shared was of surpassing beauty, speed, and comfort. It was as +long as a Plant freight-car and as yellow; and from it flapped in the +breeze more English, Belgian, French, and Russian flags than fly +from the roof of the New York Hippodrome. Whenever we sighted an +army we lashed the flags of its country to our headlights, and at sixty +miles an hour bore down upon it. + +The army always first arrested us, and then, on learning our +nationality, asked if it were true that America had joined the Allies. +After I had punched his ribs a sufficient number of times Morgan +learned to reply without winking that it had. In those days the sun +shone continuously; the roads, except where we ran on the blocks +that made Belgium famous, were perfect; and overhead for miles +noble trees met and embraced. The country was smiling and +beautiful. In the fields the women (for the men were at the front) were +gathering the crops, the stacks of golden grain stretched from village +to village. The houses in these were white-washed and, the better to +advertise chocolates, liqueurs, and automobile tires, were painted a +cobalt blue; their roofs were of red tiles, and they sat in gardens of +purple cabbages or gaudy hollyhocks. In the orchards the pear-trees +were bent with fruit. We never lacked for food; always, when we lost +the trail and "checked," or burst a tire, there was an inn with fruit-trees +trained to lie flat against the wall, or to spread over arbors and +trellises. Beneath these, close by the roadside, we sat and drank red +wine, and devoured omelets and vast slabs of rye bread. At night we +raced back to the city, through twelve miles of parks, to enamelled +bathtubs, shaded electric light, and iced champagne; while before our +table passed all the night life of a great city. And for suffering these +hardships of war our papers paid us large sums. + +On such a night as this, the night of August 18, strange folk in +wooden shoes and carrying bundles, and who looked like emigrants +from Ellis Island, appeared in front of the restaurant. Instantly they +were swallowed up in a crowd and the dinner-parties, napkins in +hand, flocked into the Place Rogier and increased the throng around +them. + +"The Germans!" those in the heart of the crowd called over their +shoulders. "The Germans are at Louvain!" + +That afternoon I had conscientiously cabled my paper that there were +no Germans anywhere near Louvain. I had been west of Louvain, +and the particular column of the French army to which I had attached +myself certainly saw no Germans. + +"They say," whispered those nearest the fugitives, "the German +shells are falling in Louvain. Ten houses are on fire!" Ten houses! +How monstrous it sounded! Ten houses of innocent country folk +destroyed. In those days such a catastrophe was unbelievable. We +smiled knowingly. + +"Refugees always talk like that," we said wisely. "The Germans would +not bombard an unfortified town. And, besides, there are no Germans +south of Liege." + +The morning following in my room I heard from the Place Rogier the +warnings of many motor horns. At great speed innumerable +automobiles were approaching, all coming from the west through the +Boulevard du Regent, and without slackening speed passing +northeast toward Ghent, Bruges, and the coast. The number +increased and the warnings became insistent. At eight o'clock they +had sent out a sharp request for right of way; at nine in number they +had trebled, and the note of the sirens was raucous, harsh, and +peremptory. At ten no longer were there disconnected warnings, but +from the horns and sirens issued one long, continuous scream. It was +like the steady roar of a gale in the rigging, and it spoke in abject +panic. The voices of the cars racing past were like the voices of +human beings driven with fear. From the front of the hotel we +watched them. There were taxicabs, racing cars, limousines. They +were crowded with women and children of the rich, and of the nobility +and gentry from the great chateaux far to the west. Those who +occupied them were white-faced with the dust of the road, with +weariness and fear. In cars magnificently upholstered, padded, and +cushioned were piled trunks, hand-bags, dressing-cases. The women +had dressed at a moment's warning, as though at a cry of fire. Many +had travelled throughout the night, and in their arms the children, +snatched from the pillows, were sleeping. + +But more appealing were the peasants. We walked out along the +inner boulevards to meet them, and found the side streets blocked +with their carts. Into these they had thrown mattresses, or bundles of +grain, and heaped upon them were families of three generations. Old +men in blue smocks, white-haired and bent, old women in caps, the +daughters dressed in their one best frock and hat, and clasping in +their hands all that was left to them, all that they could stuff into a +pillow-case or flour-sack. The tears rolled down their brown, tanned +faces. To the people of Brussels who crowded around them they +spoke in hushed, broken phrases. The terror of what they had +escaped or of what they had seen was upon them. They had +harnessed the plough-horse to the dray or market-wagon and to the +invaders had left everything. What, they asked, would befall the live +stock they had abandoned, the ducks on the pond, the cattle in the +field? Who would feed them and give them water? At the question the +tears would break out afresh. Heart-broken, weary, hungry, they +passed in an unending caravan. With them, all fleeing from the same +foe, all moving in one direction, were family carriages, the servants on +the box in disordered livery, as they had served dinner, or coatless, +but still in the striped waistcoats and silver buttons of grooms or +footmen, and bicyclers with bundles strapped to their shoulders, and +men and women stumbling on foot, carrying their children. Above it all +rose the breathless scream of the racing-cars, as they rocked and +skidded, with brakes grinding and mufflers open; with their own terror +creating and spreading terror. + +Though eager in sympathy, the people of Brussels themselves were +undisturbed. Many still sat at the little iron tables and smiled pityingly +upon the strange figures of the peasants. They had had their trouble +for nothing, they said. It was a false alarm. There were no Germans +nearer than Liege. And, besides, should the Germans come, the civil +guard would meet them. + +But, better informed than they, that morning the American minister, +Brand Whitlock, and the Marquis Villalobar, the Spanish minister, had +called upon the burgomaster and advised him not to defend the city. +As Whitlock pointed out, with the force at his command, which was +the citizen soldiery, he could delay the entrance of the Germans by +only an hour, and in that hour many innocent lives would be wasted +and monuments of great beauty, works of art that belong not alone to +Brussels but to the world, would be destroyed. Burgomaster Max, +who is a splendid and worthy representative of a long line of +burgomasters, placing his hand upon his heart, said: "Honor requires +it." + +To show that in the protection of the Belgian Government he had full +confidence, Mr. Whitlock had not as yet shown his colors. But that +morning when he left the Hotel de Ville he hung the American flag +over his legation and over that of the British. Those of us who had +elected to remain in Brussels moved our belongings to a hotel across +the street from the legation. Not taking any chances, for my own use I +reserved a green leather sofa in the legation itself. + +Except that the cafes were empty of Belgian officers, and of English +correspondents, whom, had they remained, the Germans would have +arrested, there was not, up to late in the afternoon of the 19th of +August, in the life and conduct of the citizens any perceptible change. +They could not have shown a finer spirit. They did not know the city +would not be defended; and yet with before them on the morrow the +prospect of a battle which Burgomaster Max had announced would +be contested to the very heart of the city, as usual the cafes blazed +like open fire-places and the people sat at the little iron tables. Even +when, like great buzzards, two German aeroplanes sailed slowly +across Brussels, casting shadows of events to come, the people +regarded them only with curiosity. The next morning the shops were +open, the streets were crowded. But overnight the soldier-king had +sent word that Brussels must not oppose the invaders; and at the +gendarmerie the civil guard, reluctantly and protesting, some even in +tears, turned in their rifles and uniforms. + +The change came at ten in the morning. It was as though a wand had +waved and from a fete-day on the Continent we had been wafted to +London on a rainy Sunday. The boulevards fell suddenly empty. +There was not a house that was not closely shuttered. Along the +route by which we now knew the Germans were advancing, it was as +though the plague stalked. That no one should fire from a window, +that to the conquerors no one should offer insult, Burgomaster Max +sent out as special constables men he trusted. Their badge of +authority was a walking-stick and a piece of paper fluttering from a +buttonhole. These, the police, and the servants and caretakers of the +houses that lined the boulevards alone were visible. At eleven +o'clock, unobserved but by this official audience, down the Boulevard +Waterloo came the advance-guard of the German army. It consisted +of three men, a captain and two privates on bicycles. Their rifles were +slung across their shoulders, they rode unwarily, with as little concern +as the members of a touring-club out for a holiday. Behind them, so +close upon each other that to cross from one sidewalk to the other +was not possible, came the Uhlans, infantry, and the guns. For two +hours I watched them, and then, bored with the monotony of it, +returned to the hotel. After an hour, from beneath my window, I still +could hear them; another hour and another went by. They still were +passing. + +Boredom gave way to wonder. The thing fascinated you, against your +will, dragged you back to the sidewalk and held you there open-eyed. +No longer was it regiments of men marching, but something uncanny, +inhuman, a force of nature like a landslide, a tidal wave, or lava +sweeping down a mountain. It was not of this earth, but mysterious, +ghostlike. It carried all the mystery and menace of a fog rolling toward +you across the sea. The uniform aided this impression. In it each man +moved under a cloak of invisibility. Only after the most numerous and +severe tests at all distances, with all materials and combinations of +colors that give forth no color, could this gray have been discovered. +That it was selected to clothe and disguise the German when he +fights is typical of the General Staff, in striving for efficiency, to +leave nothing to chance, to neglect no detail. + +After you have seen this service uniform under conditions entirely +opposite you are convinced that for the German soldier it is one of his +strongest weapons. Even the most expert marksman cannot hit a +target he cannot see. It is not the blue-gray of our Confederates, but +a green-gray. It is the gray of the hour just before daybreak, the gray +of unpolished steel, of mist among green trees. + +I saw it first in the Grand Place in front of the Hotel de Ville. It was +impossible to tell if in that noble square there was a regiment or a +brigade. You saw only a fog that melted into the stones, blended with +the ancient house fronts, that shifted and drifted, but left you nothing +at which to point. + +Later, as the army passed under the trees of the Botanical Park, it +merged and was lost against the green leaves. It is no exaggeration +to say that at a few hundred yards you can see the horses on which +the Uhlans ride but cannot see the men who ride them. + +If I appear to overemphasize this disguising uniform it is because, of +all the details of the German outfit, it appealed to me as one of the +most remarkable. When I was near Namur with the rear-guard of the +French Dragoons and Cuirassiers, and they threw out pickets, we +could distinguish them against the yellow wheat or green corse at half +a mile, while these men passing in the street, when they have +reached the next crossing, become merged into the gray of the +paving-stones and the earth swallowed them. In comparison the +yellow khaki of our own American army is about as invisible as the +flag of Spain. + +Major-General von Jarotsky, the German military governor of +Brussels, had assured Burgomaster Max that the German army +would not occupy the city but would pass through it. He told the truth. +For three days and three nights it passed. In six campaigns I have +followed other armies, but, excepting not even our own, the +Japanese, or the British, I have not seen one so thoroughly equipped. +I am not speaking of the fighting qualities of any army, only of the +equipment and organization. The German army moved into Brussels +as smoothly and as compactly as an Empire State express. There +were no halts, no open places, no stragglers. For the gray +automobiles and the gray motorcycles bearing messengers one side +of the street always was kept clear; and so compact was the column, +so rigid the vigilance of the file-closers, that at the rate of forty miles +an hour a car could race the length of the column and need not for a +single horse or man once swerve from its course. + +All through the night, like the tumult of a river when it races between +the cliffs of a canyon, in my sleep I could hear the steady roar of the +passing army. And when early in the morning I went to the window +the chain of steel was still unbroken. It was like the torrent that swept +down the Connemaugh Valley and destroyed Johnstown. As a +correspondent I have seen all the great armies and the military +processions at the coronations in Russia, England, and Spain, and +our own inaugural parades down Pennsylvania Avenue, but those +armies and processions were made up of men. This was a machine, +endless, tireless, with the delicate organization of a watch and the +brute power of a steam roller. And for three days and three nights +through Brussels it roared and rumbled, a cataract of molten lead. +The infantry marched singing, with their iron-shod boots beating out +the time. They sang "Fatherland, My Fatherland." Between each line +of song they took three steps. At times two thousand men were +singing together in absolute rhythm and beat. It was like the blows +from giant pile-drivers. When the melody gave way the silence was +broken only by the stamp of iron-shod boots, and then again the song +rose. When the singing ceased the bands played marches. They +were followed by the rumble of the howitzers, the creaking of wheels +and of chains clanking against the cobblestones, and the sharp, bell- +like voices of the bugles. + +More Uhlans followed, the hoofs of their magnificent horses ringing +like thousands of steel hammers breaking stones in a road; and after +them the giant siege-guns rumbling, growling, the mitrailleuse with +drag-chains ringing, the field-pieces with creaking axles, complaining +brakes, the grinding of the steel-rimmed wheels against the stones +echoing and re-echoing from the house front. When at night for an +instant the machine halted, the silence awoke you, as at sea you +wake when the screw stops. + +For three days and three nights the column of gray, with hundreds of +thousands of bayonets and hundreds of thousands of lances, with +gray transport wagons, gray ammunition carts, gray ambulances, +gray cannon, like a river of steel, cut Brussels in two. + +For three weeks the men had been on the march, and there was not +a single straggler, not a strap out of place, not a pennant missing. +Along the route, without for a minute halting the machine, the post- +office carts fell out of the column, and as the men marched mounted +postmen collected post-cards and delivered letters. Also, as they +marched, the cooks prepared soup, coffee, and tea, walking beside +their stoves on wheels, tending the fires, distributing the smoking +food. Seated in the motor-trucks cobblers mended boots and broken +harness; farriers on tiny anvils beat out horseshoes. No officer +followed a wrong turning, no officer asked his way. He followed the +map strapped to his side and on which for his guidance in red ink his +route was marked. At night he read this map by the light of an electric +torch buckled to his chest. + +To perfect this monstrous engine, with its pontoon bridges, its +wireless, its hospitals, its aeroplanes that in rigid alignment sailed +before it, its field telephones that, as it advanced, strung wires over +which for miles the vanguard talked to the rear, all modern inventions +had been prostituted. To feed it millions of men had been called from +homes, offices, and workshops; to guide it, for years the minds of the +high-born, with whom it is a religion and a disease, had been solely +concerned. + +It is, perhaps, the most efficient organization of modern times; and its +purpose only is death. Those who cast it loose upon Europe are +military-mad. And they are only a very small part of the German +people. But to preserve their class they have in their own image +created this terrible engine of destruction. For the present it is their +servant. But, "though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind +exceeding small." And, like Frankenstein's monster, this monster, to +which they gave life, may turn and rend them. + + + + +Chapter II +"To Be Treated As A Spy" + + + +This story is a personal experience, but is told in spite of that fact and +because it illustrates a side of war that is unfamiliar. It is unfamiliar +for the reason that it is seamy and uninviting. With bayonet charges, +bugle-calls, and aviators it has nothing in common. + +Espionage is that kind of warfare of which, even when it succeeds, no +country boasts. It is military service an officer may not refuse, but +which few seek. Its reward is prompt promotion, and its punishment, +in war time, is swift and without honor. This story is intended to show +how an army in the field must be on its guard against even a +supposed spy and how it treats him. + +The war offices of France and Russia would not permit an American +correspondent to accompany their armies; the English granted that +privilege to but one correspondent, and that gentleman already had +been chosen. So I was without credentials. To oblige Mr. Brand +Whitlock, our minister to Belgium, the government there was willing to +give me credentials, but on the day I was to receive them the +government moved to Antwerp. Then the Germans entered Brussels, +and, as no one could foresee that Belgium would heroically continue +fighting, on the chance the Germans would besiege Paris, I planned +to go to that city. To be bombarded you do not need credentials. + +For three days a steel-gray column of Germans had been sweeping +through Brussels, and to meet them, from the direction of Vincennes +and Lille, the English and French had crossed the border. It was +falsely reported that already the English had reached Hal, a town only +eleven miles from Brussels, that the night before there had been a +fight at Hal, and that close behind the English were the French. + +With Gerald Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, with whom I had +been in other wars, I planned to drive to Hal and from there on foot +continue, if possible, into the arms of the French or English. We both +were without credentials, but, once with the Allies, we believed we +would not need them. It was the Germans we doubted. To satisfy +them we had only a passport and a laissez-passer issued by General +von Jarotsky, the new German military governor of Brussels, and his +chief of staff, Lieutenant Geyer. Mine stated that I represented the +Wheeler Syndicate of American newspapers, the London Daily +Chronicle, and Scribner's Magazine, and that I could pass German +military lines in Brussels and her environs. Morgan had a pass of the +same sort. The question to be determined was: What were "environs" +and how far do they extend? How far in safety would the word carry +us forward? + +On August 23 we set forth from Brussels in a taxicab to find out. At +Hal, where we intended to abandon the cab and continue on foot, we +found out. We were arrested by a smart and most intelligent-looking +officer, who rode up to the side of the taxi and pointed an automatic at +us. We were innocently seated in a public cab, in a street crowded +with civilians and the passing column of soldiers, and why any one +should think he needed a gun only the German mind can explain. +Later, I found that all German officers introduced themselves and +made requests gun in hand. Whether it was because from every one +they believed themselves in danger or because they simply did not +know any better, I still am unable to decide. With no other army have +I seen an officer threaten with a pistol an unarmed civilian. Were an +American or English officer to act in such a fashion he might escape +looking like a fool, he certainly would feel like one. The four soldiers +the officer told off to guard us climbed with alacrity into our cab and +drove with us until the street grew too narrow both for their regiment +and our taxi, when they chose the regiment and disappeared. We +paid off the cabman and followed them. To reach the front there was +no other way, and the very openness with which we trailed along +beside their army, very much like small boys following a circus +procession, seemed to us to show how innocent was our intent. The +column stretched for fifty miles. Where it was going we did not know, +but, we argued, if it kept on going and we kept on with it, eventually +we must stumble upon a battle. The story that at Hal there had been +a fight was evidently untrue; and the manner in which the column was +advancing showed it was not expecting one. At noon it halted at +Brierges, and Morgan decided Brierges was out of bounds and that +the limits of our "environs" had been reached. + +"If we go any farther," he argued, "the next officer who reads our +papers will order us back to Brussels under arrest, and we will lose +our laissez-passer. Along this road there is no chance of seeing +anything. I prefer to keep my pass and use it in 'environs' where there +is fighting." So he returned to Brussels. I thought he was most wise, +and I wanted to return with him. But I did not want to go back only +because I knew it was the right thing to do, but to be ordered back so +that I could explain to my newspapers that I returned because +Colonel This or General That sent me back. It was a form of vanity for +which I was properly punished. That Morgan was right was +demonstrated as soon as he left me. I was seated against a tree by +the side of the road eating a sandwich, an occupation which seems +almost idyllic in its innocence but which could not deceive the +Germans. In me they saw the hated Spion, and from behind me, +across a ploughed field, four of them, each with an automatic, made +me prisoner. One of them, who was an enthusiast, pushed his gun +deep into my stomach. With the sandwich still in my hand, I held up +my arms high and asked who spoke English. It turned out that the +enthusiast spoke that language, and I suggested he did not need so +many guns and that he could find my papers in my inside pocket. +With four automatics rubbing against my ribs, I would not have +lowered my arms for all the papers in the Bank of England. They took +me to a cafe, where their colonel had just finished lunch and was in a +most genial humor. First he gave the enthusiast a drink as a reward +for arresting me, and then, impartially, gave me one for being +arrested. He wrote on my passport that I could go to Enghien, which +was two miles distant. That pass enabled me to proceed unmolested +for nearly two hundred yards. I was then again arrested and taken +before another group of officers. This time they searched my +knapsack and wanted to requisition my maps, but one of them +pointed out they were only automobile maps and, as compared to +their own, of no value. They permitted me to proceed to Enghien. I +went to Enghien, intending to spend the night and on the morning +continue. I could not see why I might not be able to go on indefinitely. + +As yet no one who had held me up had suggested I should turn back, +and as long as I was willing to be arrested it seemed as though I +might accompany the German army even to the gates of Paris. But +my reception in Enghien should have warned me to get back to +Brussels. The Germans, thinking I was an English spy, scowled at +me; and the Belgians, thinking the same thing, winked at me; and the +landlord of the only hotel said I was "suspect" and would not give me +a bed. But I sought out the burgomaster, a most charming man +named Delano, and he wrote out a pass permitting me to sleep one +night in Enghien. + +"You really do not need this," he said; "as an American you are free +to stay here as long as you wish." Then he, too, winked. + +"But I am an American," I protested. + +"But certainly," he said gravely, and again he winked. It was then I +should have started back to Brussels. Instead, I sat on a moss- +covered, arched stone bridge that binds the town together, and until +night fell watched the gray tidal waves rush up and across it, +stamping, tripping, stumbling, beating the broad, clean stones with +thousands of iron heels, steel hoofs, steel chains, and steel-rimmed +wheels. You hated it, and yet could not keep away. The Belgians of +Enghien hated it, and they could not keep away. Like a great river in +flood, bearing with it destruction and death, you feared and loathed it, +and yet it fascinated you and pulled you to the brink. All through the +night, as already for three nights and three days at Brussels, I had +heard it; it rumbled and growled, rushing forward without pause or +breath, with inhuman, pitiless persistence. At daybreak I sat on the +edge of the bed and wondered whether to go on or turn back. I still +wanted some one in authority, higher than myself, to order me back. +So, at six, riding for a fall, to find that one, I went, as I thought, +along the road to Soignes. The gray tidal wave was still roaring past. +It was pressing forward with greater speed, but in nothing else did +it differ from the tidal wave that had swept through Brussels. + +There was a group of officers seated by the road, and as I passed I +wished them good morning and they said good morning in return. I +had gone a hundred feet when one of them galloped after me and +asked to look at my papers. With relief I gave them to him. I was sure +now I would be told to return to Brussels. I calculated if at Hal I had +luck in finding a taxicab, by lunch time I should be in the Palace Hotel. + +"I think," said the officer, "you had better see our general. He is ahead +of us." + +I thought he meant a few hundred yards ahead, and to be ordered +back by a general seemed more convincing than to be returned by a +mere captain. So I started to walk on beside the mounted officers. +This, as it seemed to presume equality with them, scandalized them +greatly, and I was ordered into the ranks. But the one who had +arrested me thought I was entitled to a higher rating and placed me +with the color-guard, who objected to my presence so violently that a +long discussion followed, which ended with my being ranked below a +second lieutenant and above a sergeant. Between one of each of +these I was definitely placed, and for five hours I remained definitely +placed. We advanced with a rush that showed me I had surprised a +surprise movement. The fact was of interest not because I had +discovered one of their secrets, but because to keep up with the +column I was forced for five hours to move at what was a steady trot. +It was not so fast as the running step of the Italian bersagliere, but as +fast as our "double-quick." The men did not bend the knees, but, +keeping the legs straight, shot them forward with a quick, sliding +movement, like men skating or skiing. The toe of one boot seemed +always tripping on the heel of the other. As the road was paved with +roughly hewn blocks of Belgian granite this kind of going was very +strenuous, and had I not been in good shape I could not have kept +up. As it was, at the end of the five hours I had lost fifteen pounds, +which did not help me, as during the same time the knapsack had +taken on a hundred. For two days the men in the ranks had been +rushed forward at this unnatural gait and were moving like +automatons. Many of them fell by the wayside, but they were not +permitted to lie there. Instead of summoning the ambulance, they +were lifted to their feet and flung back into the ranks. Many of them +were moving in their sleep, in that partly comatose state in which you +have seen men during the last hours of a six days' walking match. +Their rules, so the sergeant said, were to halt every hour and then for +ten minutes rest. But that rule is probably only for route marching. + +On account of the speed with which the surprise movement was +made our halts were more frequent, and so exhausted were the men +that when these "thank you, ma'ams" arrived, instead of standing at +ease and adjusting their accoutrements, as though they had been +struck with a club they dropped to the stones. Some in an instant +were asleep. I do not mean that some sat down; I mean that the +whole column lay flat in the road. The officers also, those that were +not mounted, would tumble on the grass or into the wheat-field and lie +on their backs, their arms flung out like dead men. To the fact that +they were lying on their field-glasses, holsters, swords, and water- +bottles they appeared indifferent. At the rate the column moved it +would have covered thirty miles each day. It was these forced +marches that later brought Von Kluck's army to the right wing of the +Allies before the army of the crown prince was prepared to attack, +and which at Sezanne led to his repulse and to the failure of his +advance upon Paris. + +While we were pushing forward we passed a wrecked British air-ship, +around which were gathered a group of staff-officers. My papers were +given to one of them, but our column did not halt and I was not +allowed to speak. A few minutes later they passed in their +automobiles on their way to the front; and my papers went with them. +Already I was miles beyond the environs, and with each step away +from Brussels my pass was becoming less of a safeguard than a +menace. For it showed what restrictions General Jarotsky had placed +on my movements, and my presence so far out of bounds proved I +had disregarded them. But still I did not suppose that in returning to +Brussels there would be any difficulty. I was chiefly concerned with +the thought that the length of the return march was rapidly increasing +and with the fact that one of my shoes, a faithful friend in other +campaigns, had turned traitor and was cutting my foot in half. I had +started with the column at seven o'clock, and at noon an automobile, +with flags flying and the black eagle of the staff enamelled on the +door, came speeding back from the front. In it was a very blond and +distinguished-looking officer of high rank and many decorations. He +used a single eye-glass, and his politeness and his English were +faultless. He invited me to accompany him to the general staff. + +That was the first intimation I had that I was in danger. I saw they +were giving me far too much attention. I began instantly to work to set +myself free, and there was not a minute for the next twenty-four hours +that I was not working. Before I stepped into the car I had decided +upon my line of defence. I would pretend to be entirely unconscious +that I had in any way laid myself open to suspicion; that I had erred +through pure stupidity and that I was where I was solely because I +was a damn fool. I began to act like a damn fool. Effusively I +expressed my regret at putting the General Staff to inconvenience. + +"It was really too stupid of me," I said. "I cannot forgive myself. I +should not have come so far without asking Jarotsky for proper +papers. I am extremely sorry I have given you this trouble. I would like +to see the general and assure him I will return at once to Brussels." I +ignored the fact that I was being taken to the general at the rate of +sixty miles an hour. The blond officer smiled uneasily and with his +single glass studied the sky. When we reached the staff he escaped +from me with the alacrity of one released from a disagreeable and +humiliating duty. The staff were at luncheon, seated in their luxurious +motor-cars or on the grass by the side of the road. On the other side +of the road the column of dust-covered gray ghosts were being +rushed past us. The staff, in dress uniforms, flowing cloaks, and +gloves, belonged to a different race. They knew that. Among +themselves they were like priests breathing incense. Whenever one +of them spoke to another they saluted, their heels clicked, their +bodies bent at the belt line. + +One of them came to where, in the middle of the road, I was stranded +and trying not to feel as lonely as I looked. He was much younger +than myself and dark and handsome. His face was smooth-shaven, +his figure tall, lithe, and alert. He wore a uniform of light blue and +silver that clung to him and high boots of patent leather. His waist was +like a girl's, and, as though to show how supple he was, he kept +continually bowing and shrugging his shoulders and in elegant protest +gesticulating with his gloved hands. He should have been a moving- +picture actor. He reminded me of Anthony Hope's fascinating but +wicked Rupert of Hentzau. He certainly was wicked, and I got to hate +him as I never imagined it possible to hate anybody. He had been +told off to dispose of my case, and he delighted in it. He enjoyed it as +a cat enjoys playing with a mouse. As actors say, he saw himself in +the part. He "ate" it. + +"You are an English officer out of uniform," he began. "You have +been taken inside our lines." He pointed his forefinger at my stomach +and wiggled his thumb. "And you know what that means!" + +I saw playing the damn fool with him would be waste of time. + +"I followed your army," I told him, "because it's my business to follow +armies and because yours is the best-looking army I ever saw." He +made me one of his mocking bows. + +"We thank you," he said, grinning. "But you have seen too much." + +"I haven't seen anything," I said, "that everybody in Brussels hasn't +seen for three days." + +He shook his head reproachfully and with a gesture signified the +group of officers. + +"You have seen enough in this road," he said, "to justify us in +shooting you now." + +The sense of drama told him it was a good exit line, and he returned +to the group of officers. I now saw what had happened. At Enghien I +had taken the wrong road. I remembered that, to confuse the +Germans, the names on the sign-post at the edge of the town had +been painted out, and that instead of taking the road to Soignes I was +on the road to Ath. What I had seen, therefore, was an army corps +making a turning movement intended to catch the English on their +right and double them up upon their centre. The success of this +manoeuvre depended upon the speed with which it was executed and +upon its being a complete surprise. As later in the day I learned, the +Germans thought I was an English officer who had followed them +from Brussels and who was trying to slip past them and warn his +countrymen. What Rupert of Hentzau meant by what I had seen on +the road was that, having seen the Count de Schwerin, who +commanded the Seventh Division, on the road to Ath, I must +necessarily know that the army corps to which he was attached had +separated from the main army of Von Kluck, and that, in going so far +south at such speed, it was bent upon an attack on the English flank. +All of which at the time I did not know and did not want to know. All I +wanted was to prove I was not an English officer, but an American +correspondent who by accident had stumbled upon their secret. To +convince them of that, strangely enough, was difficult. + +When Rupert of Hentzau returned the other officers were with him, +and, fortunately for me, they spoke or understood English. For the +rest of the day what followed was like a legal argument. It was as +cold-blooded as a game of bridge. Rupert of Hentzau wanted an +English spy shot for his supper; just as he might have desired a +grilled bone. He showed no personal animus, and, I must say for him, +that he conducted the case for the prosecution without heat or anger. +He mocked me, grilled and taunted me, but he was always +charmingly polite. + +As Whitman said, "I want Becker," so Rupert said, "Fe, fo, fi, fum, I +want the blood of an Englishman." He was determined to get it. I was +even more interested that he should not. The points he made against +me were that my German pass was signed neither by General +Jarotsky nor by Lieutenant Geyer, but only stamped, and that any +rubber stamp could be forged; that my American passport had not +been issued at Washington, but in London, where an Englishman +might have imposed upon our embassy; and that in the photograph +pasted on the passport I was wearing the uniform of a British officer. I +explained that the photograph was taken eight years ago, and that +the uniform was one I had seen on the west coast of Africa, worn by +the West African Field Force. Because it was unlike any known +military uniform, and as cool and comfortable as a golf jacket, I had +had it copied. But since that time it had been adopted by the English +Brigade of Guards and the Territorials. I knew it sounded like fiction; +but it was quite true. + +Rupert of Hentzau smiled delightedly. + +"Do you expect us to believe that?" he protested. + +"Listen," I said. "If you could invent an explanation for that uniform as +quickly as I told you that one, standing in a road with eight officers +trying to shoot you, you would be the greatest general in Germany." + +That made the others laugh; and Rupert retorted: "Very well, then, we +will concede that the entire British army has changed its uniform to +suit your photograph. But if you are not an officer, why, in the +photograph, are you wearing war ribbons?" + +I said the war ribbons were in my favor, and I pointed out that no +officer of any one country could have been in the different campaigns +for which the ribbons were issued. + +"They prove," I argued, "that I am a correspondent, for only a +correspondent could have been in wars in which his own country was +not engaged." + +I thought I had scored; but Rupert instantly turned my own witness +against me. + +"Or a military attache," he said. At that they all smiled and nodded +knowingly. + +He followed this up by saying, accusingly, that the hat and clothes I +was then wearing were English. The clothes were English, but I knew +he did not know that, and was only guessing; and there were no +marks on them. About my hat I was not certain. It was a felt Alpine +hat, and whether I had bought it in London or New York I could not +remember. Whether it was evidence for or against I could not be +sure. So I took it off and began to fan myself with it, hoping to get a +look at the name of the maker. But with the eyes of the young +prosecuting attorney fixed upon me, I did not dare take a chance. +Then, to aid me, a German aeroplane passed overhead, and +those who were giving me the third degree looked up. I stopped +fanning myself and cast a swift glance inside the hat. To my intense +satisfaction I read, stamped on the leather lining: "Knox, New York." + +I put the hat back on my head and a few minutes later pulled it off and +said: "Now, for instance, my hat. If I were an Englishman would I +cross the ocean to New York to buy a hat?" + +It was all like that. They would move away and whisper together, and +I would try to guess what questions they were preparing. I had to +arrange my defence without knowing in what way they would try to trip +me, and I had to think faster than I ever have thought before. I had no +more time to be scared, or to regret my past sins, than has a man in +a quicksand. So far as I could make out, they were divided in opinion +concerning me. Rupert of Hentzau, who was the adjutant or the chief +of staff, had only one simple thought, which was to shoot me. Others +considered me a damn fool; I could hear them laughing and saying: +"Er ist ein dummer Mensch." And others thought that whether I was a +fool or not, or an American or an Englishman, was not the question; I +had seen too much and should be put away. I felt if, instead of having +Rupert act as my interpreter, I could personally speak to the general I +might talk my way out of it, but Rupert assured me that to set me free +the Count de Schwerin lacked authority, and that my papers, which +were all against me, must be submitted to the general of the army +corps, and we would not reach him until midnight. + +"And then!--" he would exclaim, and he would repeat his pantomime +of pointing his forefinger at my stomach and wiggling his thumb. He +was very popular with me. + +Meanwhile they were taking me farther away from Brussels and the +"environs." + +"When you picked me up," I said, "I was inside the environs, but by +the time I reach 'the' general he will see only that I am fifty miles +beyond where I am permitted to be. And who is going to tell him it +was you brought me there? You won't!" + +Rupert of Hentzau only smiled like the cat that has just swallowed the +canary. + +He put me in another automobile and they whisked me off, always +going farther from Brussels, to Ath and then to Ligne, a little town five +miles south. Here they stopped at a house the staff occupied, and, +leading me to the second floor, put me in an empty room that +seemed built for their purpose. It had a stone floor and whitewashed +walls and a window so high that even when standing you could see +only the roof of another house and a weather-vane. They threw two +bundles of wheat on the floor and put a sentry at the door with orders +to keep it open. He was a wild man, and thought I was, and every +time I moved his automatic moved with me. It was as though he were +following me with a spotlight. My foot was badly cut across the instep +and I was altogether forlorn and disreputable. So, in order to look less +like a tramp when I met the general, I bound up the foot, and, always +with one eye on the sentry, and moving very slowly, shaved and put +on dry things. From the interest the sentry showed it seemed evident +he never had taken a bath himself, nor had seen any one else take +one, and he was not quite easy in his mind that he ought to allow it. +He seemed to consider it a kind of suicide. I kept on thinking out +plans, and when an officer appeared I had one to submit. I offered to +give the money I had with me to any one who would motor back to +Brussels and take a note to the American minister, Brand Whitlock. +My proposition was that if in five hours, or by seven o'clock, he did not +arrive in his automobile and assure them that what I said about +myself was true, they need not wait until midnight, but could shoot me +then. + +"If I am willing to take such a chance," I pointed out, "I must be a +friend of Mr. Whitlock. If he repudiates me, it will be evident I have +deceived you, and you will be perfectly justified in carrying out your +plan." I had a note to Whitlock already written. It was composed +entirely with the idea that they would read it, and it was much more +intimate than my very brief acquaintance with that gentleman justified. +But from what I have seen and heard of the ex-mayor of Toledo I felt +he would stand for it. + +The note read: + + +"Dear Brand: + +"I am detained in a house with a garden where the railroad passes +through the village of Ligne. Please come quick, or send some one in +the legation automobile. + +"Richard." + + +The officer to whom I gave this was Major Alfred Wurth, a reservist +from Bernburg, on the Saale River. I liked him from the first because +after we had exchanged a few words he exclaimed incredulously: +"What nonsense! Any one could tell by your accent that you are an +American." He explained that, when at the university, in the same +pension with him were three Americans. + +"The staff are making a mistake," he said earnestly. "They will regret +it." + +I told him that I not only did not want them to regret it, but I did not +want them to make it, and I begged him to assure the staff that I was +an American. I suggested also that he tell them, if anything happened +to me there were other Americans who would at once declare war on +Germany. The number of these other Americans I overestimated by +about ninety millions, but it was no time to consider details. + +He asked if the staff might read the letter to the American minister, +and, though I hated to deceive him, I pretended to consider this. + +"I don't remember just what I wrote," I said, and, to make sure they +would read it, I tore open the envelope and pretended to reread the +letter. + +"I will see what I can do," said Major Wurth; "meanwhile, do not be +discouraged. Maybe it will come out all right for you." + +After he left me the Belgian gentleman who owned the house and his +cook brought me some food. She was the only member of his +household who had not deserted him, and together they were serving +the staff-officers, he acting as butler, waiter, and valet. The cock was +an old peasant woman with a ruffled white cap, and when she left, in +spite of the sentry, she patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. The +owner of the house was more discreet, and contented himself with +winking at me and whispering: "Ca va mal pour vous en bas!" As they +both knew what was being said of me downstairs, their visit did not +especially enliven me. Major Wurth returned and said the staff could +not spare any one to go to Brussels, but that my note had been +forwarded to "the" general. That was as much as I had hoped for. It +was intended only as a "stay of proceedings." But the manner of the +major was not reassuring. He kept telling me that he thought they +would set me free, but even as he spoke tears would come to his +eyes and roll slowly down his cheeks. It was most disconcerting. After +a while it grew dark and he brought me a candle and left me, taking +with him, much to my relief, the sentry and his automatic. This gave +me since my arrest my first moment alone, and, to find anything that +might further incriminate or help me, I used it in going rapidly through +my knapsack and pockets. My note-book was entirely favorable. In it +there was no word that any German could censor. My only other +paper was a letter, of which all day I had been conscious. It was one +of introduction from Colonel Theodore Roosevelt to President +Poincare, and whether the Germans would consider it a clean bill of +health or a death-warrant I could not make up my mind. Half a dozen +times I had been on the point of saying: "Here is a letter from the man +your Kaiser delighted to honor, the only civilian who ever reviewed +the German army, a former President of the United States." + +But I could hear Rupert of Hentzau replying: "Yes, and it is +recommending you to our enemy, the President of France!" + +I knew that Colonel Roosevelt would have written a letter to the +German Emperor as impartially as to M. Poincare, but I knew also +that Rupert of Hentzau would not believe that. So I decided to keep +the letter back until the last moment. If it was going to help me, it still +would be effective; if it went against me, I would be just as dead. I +began to think out other plans. Plans of escape were foolish. I could +have crawled out of the window to the rain gutter, but before I had +reached the rooftree I would have been shot. And bribing the sentry, +even were he willing to be insulted, would not have taken me farther +than the stairs, where there were other sentries. I was more safe +inside the house than out. They still had my passport and laissez- +passer, and without a pass one could not walk a hundred yards. As +the staff had but one plan, and no time in which to think of a better +one, the obligation to invent a substitute plan lay upon me. The plan I +thought out and which later I outlined to Major Wurth was this: Instead +of putting me away at midnight, they would give me a pass back to +Brussels. The pass would state that I was a suspected spy and that if +before midnight of the 26th of August I were found off the direct road +to Brussels, or if by that hour I had not reported to the military +governor of Brussels, any one could shoot me on sight. As I have +stated, without showing a pass no one could move a hundred yards, +and every time I showed my pass to a German it would tell him I was +a suspected spy, and if I were not making my way in the right +direction he had his orders. With such a pass I was as much a +prisoner as in the room at Ligne, and if I tried to evade its conditions I +was as good as dead. The advantages of my plan, as I urged them +upon Major Wurth, were that it prevented the General Staff from +shooting an innocent man, which would have greatly distressed them, +and were he not innocent would still enable them, after a reprieve of +two days, to shoot him. The distance to Brussels was about fifty +miles, which, as it was impossible for a civilian to hire a bicycle, +motor-car, or cart, I must cover on foot, making twenty-five miles a +day. Major Wurth heartily approved of my substitute plan, and added +that he thought if any motor-trucks or ambulances were returning +empty to Brussels, I should be permitted to ride in one of them. He +left me, and I never saw him again. It was then about eight o'clock, +and as the time passed and he did not return and midnight grew +nearer, I began to feel very lonely. Except for the Roosevelt letter, I +had played my last card. + +As it grew later I persuaded myself they did not mean to act until +morning, and I stretched out on the straw and tried to sleep. At +midnight I was startled by the light of an electric torch. It was strapped +to the chest of an officer, who ordered me to get up and come with +him. He spoke only German, and he seemed very angry. The owner +of the house and the old cook had shown him to my room, but they +stood in the shadow without speaking. Nor, fearing I might +compromise them--for I could not see why, except for one purpose, +they were taking me out into the night--did I speak to them. We got +into another motor-car and in silence drove north from Ligne down a +country road to a great chateau that stood in a magnificent park. +Something had gone wrong with the lights of the chateau, and its hall +was lit only by candles that showed soldiers sleeping like dead men +on bundles of wheat and others leaping up and down the marble +stairs. They put me in a huge armchair of silk and gilt, with two of the +gray ghosts to guard me, and from the hall, when the doors of the +drawing-room opened, I could see a long table on which were +candles in silver candlesticks or set on plates, and many maps and +half-empty bottles of champagne. Around the table, standing or +seated, and leaning across the maps, were staff-officers in brilliant +uniforms. They were much older men and of higher rank than any I +had yet seen. They were eating, drinking, gesticulating. In spite of the +tumult, some, in utter weariness, were asleep. It was like a picture of +1870 by Detaille or De Neuville. Apparently, at last I had reached the +headquarters of the mysterious general. I had arrived at what, for a +suspected spy, was an inopportune moment. The Germans themselves +had been surprised, or somewhere south of us had met with a +reverse, and the air was vibrating with excitement and something +very like panic. Outside, at great speed and with sirens shrieking, +automobiles were arriving, and I could hear the officers shouting: +"Die Englischen kommen!" + +To make their reports they flung themselves up the steps, the electric +torches, like bull's-eye lanterns, burning holes in the night. Seeing a +civilian under guard, they would stare and ask questions. Even when +they came close, owing to the light in my eyes, I could not see them. +Sometimes, in a half circle, there would be six or eight of the electric +torches blinding me, and from behind them voices barking at me with +strange, guttural noises. Much they said I could not understand, +much I did not want to understand, but they made it quite clear it was +no fit place for an Englishman. + +When the door from the drawing-room opened and Rupert of +Hentzau appeared, I was almost glad to see him. + +Whenever he spoke to me he always began or ended his sentence +with "Mr. Davis." He gave it an emphasis and meaning which was +intended to show that he knew it was not my name. I would not have +thought it possible to put so much insolence into two innocent words. +It was as though he said: "Mr. Davis, alias Jimmy Valentine." He +certainly would have made a great actor. + +"Mr. Davis," he said, "you are free." + +He did not look as disappointed as I knew he would feel if I were free, +so I waited for what was to follow. + +"You are free," he said, "under certain conditions." The conditions +seemed to cheer him. He recited the conditions. They were those I +had outlined to Major Wurth. But I am sure Rupert of Hentzau did not +guess that. Apparently, he believed Major Wurth had thought of +them, and I did not undeceive him. For the substitute plan I was not +inclined to rob that officer of any credit. I felt then, and I feel now, +that but for him and his interceding for me I would have been left +in the road. Rupert of Hentzau gave me the pass. It said I must +return to Brussels by way of Ath, Enghien, Hal, and that I must report +to the military governor on the 26th or "be treated as a spy"--"so wird +er als Spion behandelt." The pass, literally translated, reads: + +"The American reporter Davis must at once return to Brussels via +Ath, Enghien, Hal, and report to the government at the latest on +August 26th. If he is met on any other road, or after the 26th of +August, he will be handled as a spy. Automobiles returning to +Brussels, if they can unite it with their duty, can carry him." + +"CHIEF OF GENERAL STAFF." +"VON GREGOR, Lieutenant-Colonel." + +Fearing my military education was not sufficient to enable me to +appreciate this, for the last time Rupert stuck his forefinger in my +stomach and repeated cheerfully: "And you know what that means. +And you will start," he added, with a most charming smile, "in three +hours." + +He was determined to have his grilled bone. + +"At three in the morning!" I cried. "You might as well take me out and +shoot me now!" + +"You will start in three hours," he repeated. + +"A man wandering around at that hour," I protested, "wouldn't live five +minutes. It can't be done. You couldn't do it." He continued to grin. I +knew perfectly well the general had given no such order, and that it +was a cat-and-mouse act of Rupert's own invention, and he knew I +knew it. But he repeated: "You will start in three hours, Mr. Davis." + +I said: "I am going to write about this, and I would like you to read +what I write. What is your name?" + +He said: "I am the Baron von"--it sounded like "Hossfer"--and, in any +case, to that name, care of General de Schwerin of the Seventh +Division, I shall mail this book. I hope the Allies do not kill Rupert of +Hentzau before he reads it! After that! He would have made a great +actor. + +They put me in the automobile and drove me back to Ligne and the +impromptu cell. But now it did not seem like a cell. Since I had last +occupied it my chances had so improved that returning to the candle +on the floor and the bundles of wheat was like coming home. Though +I did not believe Rupert had any authority to order me into the night at +the darkest hour of the twenty-four, I was taking no chances. My +nerve was not in a sufficiently robust state for me to disobey any +German. So, lest I should oversleep, until three o'clock I paced the +cell, and then, with all the terrors of a burglar, tiptoed down the stairs. +There was no light, and the house was wrapped in silence. + +Earlier there had been everywhere sentries, and, not daring to +breathe, I waited for one of them to challenge, but, except for the +creaking of the stairs and of my ankle-bones, which seemed to +explode like firecrackers, there was not a sound. I was afraid, and +wished myself safely back in my cell, but I was more afraid of Rupert, +and I kept on feeling my way until I had reached the garden. There +some one spoke to me in French, and I found my host. + +"The animals have gone," he said; "all of them. I will give you a bed +now, and when it is light you shall have breakfast." I told him my +orders were to leave his house at three. + +"But it is murder!" he said. With these cheering words in my ears, I +thanked him, and he bid me bonne chance. + +In my left hand I placed the pass, folded so that the red seal of the +General Staff would show, and a match-box. In the other hand I held +ready a couple of matches. Each time a sentry challenged I struck +the matches on the box and held them in front of the red seal. The +instant the matches flashed it was a hundred to one that the man +would shoot, but I could not speak German, and there was no other +way to make him understand. They were either too surprised or too +sleepy to fire, for each of them let me pass. But after I had made a +mark of myself three times I lost my nerve and sought cover behind a +haystack. I lay there until there was light enough to distinguish trees +and telegraph-poles, and then walked on to Ath. After that, when they +stopped me, if they could not read, the red seal satisfied them; if they +were officers and could read, they cursed me with strange, unclean +oaths, and ordered me, in the German equivalent, to beat it. It was a +delightful walk. I had had no sleep the night before and had eaten +nothing, and, though I had cut away most of my shoe, I could hardly +touch my foot to the road. Whenever in the villages I tried to bribe any +one to carry my knapsack or to give me food, the peasants ran from +me. They thought I was a German and talked Flemish, not French. I +was more afraid of them and their shotguns than of the Germans, +and I never entered a village unless German soldiers were entering +or leaving it. And the Germans gave me no reason to feel free from +care. Every time they read my pass they were inclined to try me all +over again, and twice searched my knapsack. + +After that happened the second time I guessed my letter to the +President of France might prove a menace, and, tearing it into little +pieces, dropped it over a bridge, and with regret watched that +historical document from the ex-President of one republic to the +President of another float down the Sambre toward the sea. By noon +I decided I would not be able to make the distance. For twenty-four +hours I had been without sleep or food, and I had been put through +an unceasing third degree, and I was nearly out. Added to that, the +chance of my losing the road was excellent; and if I lost the road the +first German who read my pass was ordered by it to shoot me. So I +decided to give myself up to the occupants of the next German car +going toward Brussels and ask them to carry me there under arrest. I +waited until an automobile approached, and then stood in front of it +and held up my pass and pointed to the red seal. The car stopped, +and the soldiers in front and the officer in the rear seat gazed at me in +indignant amazement. The officer was a general, old and kindly +looking, and, by the grace of Heaven, as slow-witted as he was kind. +He spoke no English, and his French was as bad as mine, and in +consequence he had no idea of what I was saying except that I had +orders from the General Staff to proceed at once to Brussels. I made +a mystery of the pass, saying it was very confidential, but the red seal +satisfied him. He bade me courteously to take the seat at his side, +and with intense satisfaction I heard him command his orderly to get +down and fetch my knapsack. The general was going, he said, only +so far as Hal, but that far he would carry me. Hal was the last town +named in my pass, and from Brussels only eleven miles distant. +According to the schedule I had laid out for myself, I had not hoped to +reach it by walking until the next day, but at the rate the car had +approached I saw I would be there within two hours. My feelings +when I sank back upon the cushions of that car and stretched out my +weary legs and the wind whistled around us are too sacred for cold +print. It was a situation I would not have used in fiction. I was a +condemned spy, with the hand of every German properly against me, +and yet under the protection of a German general, and in luxurious +ease, I was escaping from them at forty miles an hour. I had but one +regret. I wanted Rupert of Hentzau to see me. At Hal my luck still +held. The steps of the Hotel de Ville were crowded with generals. I +thought never in the world could there be so many generals, so many +flowing cloaks and spiked helmets. I was afraid of them. I was afraid +that when my general abandoned me the others might not prove so +slow-witted or so kind. My general also seemed to regard them with +disfavor. He exclaimed impatiently. Apparently, to force his way +through them, to cool his heels in an anteroom, did not appeal. It was +long past his luncheon hour and the restaurant of the Palace Hotel +called him. He gave a sharp order to the chauffeur. + +"I go on to Brussels," he said. "Desire you to accompany me?" I did +not know how to ask him in French not to make me laugh. I saw the +great Palace of Justice that towers above the city with the same +emotions that one beholds the Statue of Liberty, but not until we had +reached the inner boulevards did I feel safe. There I bade my friend a +grateful but hasty adieu, and in a taxicab, unwashed and unbrushed, I +drove straight to the American legation. To Mr. Whitlock I told this +story, and with one hand that gentleman reached for his hat and with +the other for his stick. In the automobile of the legation we raced to +the Hotel de Ville. There Mr. Whitlock, as the moving-picture people +say, "registered" indignation. Mr. Davis was present, he made it +understood, not as a ticket-of-leave man, and because he had been +ordered to report, but in spite of that fact. He was there as the friend +of the American minister, and the word "Spion" must be removed +from his papers. + +And so, on the pass that Rupert gave me, below where he had +written that I was to be treated as a spy, they wrote I was "not at all," +"gar nicht," to be treated as a spy, and that I was well known to the +American minister, and to that they affixed the official seal. + +That ended it, leaving me with one valuable possession. It is this: +should any one suggest that I am a spy, or that I am not a friend of +Brand Whitlock, I have the testimony of the Imperial German +Government to the contrary. + + + + +Chapter III +The Burning Of Louvain + + + +After the Germans occupied Brussels they closed the road to Aix-la- +Chapelle. A week later, to carry their wounded and prisoners, they +reopened it. But for eight days Brussels was isolated. The mail-trains +and the telegraph office were in the hands of the invaders. They +accepted our cables, censored them, and three days later told us, if +we still wished, we could forward them. But only from Holland. By this +they accomplished three things: they learned what we were writing +about them, for three days prevented any news from leaving the city, +and offered us an inducement to visit Holland, so getting rid of us. + +The despatches of those diplomats who still remained in Brussels +were treated in the same manner. With the most cheerful +complacency the military authorities blue-pencilled their despatches +to their governments. When the diplomats learned of this, with their +code cables they sent open cables stating that their confidential +despatches were being censored and delayed. They still were +delayed. To get any message out of Brussels it was necessary to use +an automobile, and nearly every automobile had taken itself off to +Antwerp. If a motor-car appeared it was at once commandeered. This +was true also of horses and bicycles. All over Brussels you saw +delivery wagons, private carriages, market carts with the shafts empty +and the horse and harness gone. After three days a German soldier +who did not own a bicycle was poor indeed. + +Requisitions were given for these machines, stating they would be +returned after the war, by which time they will be ready for the scrap- +heap. Any one on a bicycle outside the city was arrested, so the only +way to get messages through was by going on foot to Ostend or +Holland, or by an automobile for which the German authorities +had given a special pass. As no one knew when one of these +automobiles might start, we carried always with us our cables and +letters, and intrusted them to any stranger who was trying to run the +lines. + +No one wished to carry our despatches, as he feared they might +contain something unfavorable to the Germans, which, if he were +arrested and the cables read, might bring him into greater trouble. +Money for himself was no inducement. But I found if I gave money for +the Red Cross no one would refuse it, or to carry the messages. + +Three out of four times the stranger would be arrested and ordered +back to Brussels, and our despatches, with their news value +departed, would be returned. + +An account of the Germans entering Brussels I sent by an English +boy named Dalton, who, after being turned back three times, got +through by night, and when he arrived in England his adventures +were published in all the London papers. They were so thrilling that +they made my story, for which he had taken the trip, extremely tame +reading. + +Hugh Gibson, secretary of the American legation, was the first person +in an official position to visit Antwerp after the Belgian Government +moved to that city, and, even with his passes and flag flying from his +automobile, he reached Antwerp and returned to Brussels only after +many delays and adventures. Not knowing the Belgians were +advancing from the north, Gibson and his American flag were several +times under fire, and on the days he chose for his excursion his route +led him past burning towns and dead and wounded and between the +lines of both forces actively engaged. + +He was carrying despatches from Brand Whitlock to Secretary Bryan. +During the night he rested at Antwerp the first Zeppelin air-ship to visit +that city passed over it, dropping one bomb at the end of the block in +which Gibson was sleeping. He was awakened by the explosion and +heard all of those that followed. + +The next morning he was requested to accompany a committee +appointed by the Belgian Government to report upon the outrage, +and he visited a house that had been wrecked, and saw what was left +of the bodies of those killed. People who were in the streets when the +air-ship passed said it moved without any sound, as though the motor +had been shut off and it was being propelled by momentum. + +One bomb fell so near the palace where the Belgian Queen was +sleeping as to destroy the glass in the windows and scar the walls. +The bombs were large, containing smaller bombs of the size of +shrapnel. Like shrapnel, on impact they scattered bullets over a +radius of forty yards. One man, who from a window in the eighth story +of a hotel watched the air-ship pass, stated that before each bomb fell +he saw electric torches signal from the roofs, as though giving +directions as to where the bombs should strike. + +After my arrest by the Germans, I found my usefulness in Brussels as +a correspondent was gone, and I returned to London, and from there +rejoined the Allies in Paris. + +I left Brussels on August 27th with Gerald Morgan and Will Irwin, of +Collier's, on a train carrying English prisoners and German wounded. +In times of peace the trip to the German border lasts three hours, but +in making it we were twenty-six hours, and by order of the authorities +we were forbidden to leave the train. + +Carriages with cushions naturally were reserved for the wounded, so +we slept on wooden benches and on the floor. It was not possible to +obtain food, and water was as scarce. At Graesbeek, ten miles from +Brussels, we first saw houses on fire. They continued with us to +Liege. + +Village after village had been completely wrecked. In his march to the +sea Sherman lived on the country. He did not destroy it, and as +against the burning of Columbia must be placed to the discredit of the +Germans the wiping out of an entire countryside. + +For many miles we saw procession after procession of peasants +fleeing from one burning village, which had been their home, to other +villages, to find only blackened walls and smouldering ashes. In no +part of northern Europe is there a countryside fairer than that +between Aix-la-Chapelle and Brussels, but the Germans had made of +it a graveyard. It looked as though a cyclone had uprooted its houses, +gardens, and orchards and a prairie fire had followed. + +At seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at what for six hundred +years had been the city of Louvain. The Germans were burning it, +and to hide their work kept us locked in the railroad carriages. But the +story was written against the sky, was told to us by German soldiers +incoherent with excesses; and we could read it in the faces of women +and children being led to concentration camps and of citizens on their +way to be shot. + +The day before the Germans had sentenced Louvain to become a +wilderness, and with German system and love of thoroughness they +left Louvain an empty, blackened shell. The reason for this appeal to +the torch and the execution of non-combatants, as given to Mr. +Whitlock and myself on the morning I left Brussels by General von +Lutwitz, the military governor, was this: The day before, while the +German military commander of the troops in Louvain was at the Hotel +de Ville talking to the burgomaster, a son of the burgomaster, with an +automatic pistol, shot the chief of staff and German staff surgeons. + +Lutwitz claimed this was the signal for the civil guard, in civilian +clothes on the roofs, to fire upon the German soldiers in the open +square below. He said also the Belgians had quick-firing guns, +brought from Antwerp. As for a week the Germans had occupied +Louvain and closely guarded all approaches, the story that there was +any gun-running is absurd. + +"Fifty Germans were killed and wounded," said Lutwitz, "and for that +Louvain must be wiped out--so!" In pantomime with his fist he swept +the papers across his table. + +"The Hotel de Ville," he added, "was a beautiful building; it is a pity it +must be destroyed." + +Were he telling us his soldiers had destroyed a kitchen-garden, his +tone could not have expressed less regret. + +Ten days before I had been in Louvain, when it was occupied by +Belgian troops and King Albert and his staff. The city dates from the +eleventh century, and the population was forty-two thousand. The +citizens were brewers, lace-makers, and manufacturers of ornaments +for churches. The university once was the most celebrated in +European cities and was the headquarters of the Jesuits. + +In the Louvain College many priests now in America have been +educated, and ten days before, over the great yellow walls of the +college, I had seen hanging two American flags. I had found the city +clean, sleepy, and pretty, with narrow, twisting streets and smart +shops and cafes. Set in flower gardens were the houses, with red +roofs, green shutters, and white walls. + +Over those that faced south had been trained pear-trees, their +branches, heavy with fruit, spread out against the walls like branches +of candelabra. The town hall was an example of Gothic architecture, +in detail and design more celebrated even than the town hall of +Bruges or Brussels. It was five hundred years old, and lately had +been repaired with taste and at great cost. + +Opposite was the Church of St. Pierre, dating from the fifteenth +century, a very noble building, with many chapels filled with carvings +of the time of the Renaissance in wood, stone, and iron. In the +university were one hundred and fifty thousand volumes. + +Near it was the bronze statue of Father Damien, priest of the leper +colony in the South Pacific, of whom Robert Louis Stevenson wrote. + +On the night of the 27th these buildings were empty, exploded +cartridges. Statues, pictures, carvings, parchments, archives--all +these were gone. + +No one defends the sniper. But because ignorant Mexicans, when +their city was invaded, fired upon our sailors, we did not destroy Vera +Cruz. Even had we bombarded Vera Cruz, money could have +restored that city. Money can never restore Louvain. Great architects +and artists, dead these six hundred years, made it beautiful, and their +handiwork belonged to the world. With torch and dynamite the +Germans turned those masterpieces into ashes, and all the Kaiser's +horses and all his men cannot bring them back again. + +When our troop train reached Louvain, the entire heart of the city was +destroyed, and the fire had reached the Boulevard Tirlemont, which +faces the railroad station. The night was windless, and the sparks +rose in steady, leisurely pillars, falling back into the furnace from +which they sprang. In their work the soldiers were moving from the +heart of the city to the outskirts, street by street, from house to house. + +In each building they began at the first floor and, when that was +burning steadily, passed to the one next. There were no exceptions-- +whether it was a store, chapel, or private residence, it was destroyed. +The occupants had been warned to go, and in each deserted shop or +house the furniture was piled, the torch was stuck under it, and into +the air went the savings of years, souvenirs of children, of parents, +heirlooms that had passed from generation to generation. + +The people had time only to fill a pillowcase and fly. Some were not +so fortunate, and by thousands, like flocks of sheep, they were +rounded up and marched through the night to concentration camps. +We were not allowed to speak to any citizen of Louvain, but the +Germans crowded the windows of the train, boastful, gloating, eager +to interpret. + +In the two hours during which the train circled the burning city war +was before us in its most hateful aspect. + +In other wars I have watched men on one hilltop, without haste, +without heat, fire at men on another hill, and in consequence on both +sides good men were wasted. But in those fights there were no +women or children, and the shells struck only vacant stretches of +veldt or uninhabited mountain sides. + +At Louvain it was war upon the defenceless, war upon churches, +colleges, shops of milliners and lace-makers; war brought to the +bedside and the fireside; against women harvesting in the fields, +against children in wooden shoes at play in the streets. + +At Louvain that night the Germans were like men after an orgy. + +There were fifty English prisoners, erect and soldierly. In the ocean of +gray the little patch of khaki looked pitifully lonely, but they regarded +the men who had outnumbered but not defeated them with calm, +uncurious eyes. In one way I was glad to see them there. Later they +will bear witness. They will tell how the enemy makes a wilderness +and calls it war. It was a most weird picture. On the high ground rose +the broken spires of the Church of St. Pierre and the Hotel de Ville, +and descending like steps were row beneath row of houses, roofless, +with windows like blind eyes. The fire had reached the last row of +houses, those on the Boulevard de Jodigne. Some of these were +already cold, but others sent up steady, straight columns of flame. In +others at the third and fourth stories the window curtains still hung, +flowers still filled the window-boxes, while on the first floor the torch +had just passed and the flames were leaping. Fire had destroyed the +electric plant, but at times the flames made the station so light that +you could see the second-hand of your watch, and again all was +darkness, lit only by candles. + +You could tell when an officer passed by the electric torch he carried +strapped to his chest. In the darkness the gray uniforms filled the +station with an army of ghosts. You distinguished men only when +pipes hanging from their teeth glowed red or their bayonets flashed. + +Outside the station in the public square the people of Louvain passed +in an unending procession, women bareheaded, weeping, men +carrying the children asleep on their shoulders, all hemmed in by the +shadowy army of gray wolves. Once they were halted, and among +them were marched a line of men. These were on their way to be +shot. And, better to point the moral, an officer halted both processions +and, climbing to a cart, explained why the men were to die. He +warned others not to bring down upon themselves a like vengeance. + +As those being led to spend the night in the fields looked across to +those marked for death they saw old friends, neighbors of long +standing, men of their own household. The officer bellowing at them +from the cart was illuminated by the headlights of an automobile. He +looked like an actor held in a spotlight on a darkened stage. + +It was all like a scene upon the stage, unreal, inhuman. You felt it +could not be true. You felt that the curtain of fire, purring and crackling +and sending up hot sparks to meet the kind, calm stars, was only a +painted backdrop; that the reports of rifles from the dark ruins came +from blank cartridges, and that these trembling shopkeepers and +peasants ringed in bayonets would not in a few minutes really die, but +that they themselves and their homes would be restored to their +wives and children. + +You felt it was only a nightmare, cruel and uncivilized. And then you +remembered that the German Emperor has told us what it is. It is his +Holy War. + + + + +Chapter IV +Paris In War Time + + + +Those who, when the Germans approached, fled from Paris, +described it as a city doomed, as a waste place, desolate as a +graveyard. Those who run away always are alarmists. They are on +the defensive. They must explain why they ran away. + +Early in September Paris was like a summer hotel out of season. The +owners had temporarily closed it; the windows were barred, the +furniture and paintings draped in linen, a caretaker and a night- +watchman were in possession. + +It is an old saying that all good Americans go to Paris when they die. +Most of them take no chances and prefer to visit it while they are alive. +Before this war, if the visitor was disappointed, it was the fault of +the visitor, not of Paris. She was all things to all men. To some she +offered triumphal arches, statues, paintings; to others by day racing, +and by night Maxims and the Rat Mort. Some loved her for the book- +stalls along the Seine and ateliers of the Latin Quarter; some for her +parks, forests, gardens, and boulevards; some because of the +Luxembourg; some only as a place where everybody was smiling, +happy, and polite, where they were never bored, where they were +always young, where the lights never went out and there was no early +call. Should they to-day revisit her they would find her grown grave +and decorous, and going to bed at sundown, but still smiling bravely, +still polite. + +You cannot wipe out Paris by removing two million people and closing +Cartier's and the Cafe de Paris. There still remains some hundred +miles of boulevards, the Seine and her bridges, the Arc de Triomphe, +with the sun setting behind it, and the Gardens of the Tuilleries. You +cannot send them to the store-house or wrap them in linen. And the +spirit of the people of Paris you cannot crush nor stampede. + +Between Paris in peace and Paris to-day the most striking difference +is lack of population. Idle rich, the employees of the government, and +tourists of all countries are missing. They leave a great emptiness. +When you walk the streets you feel either that you are up very early, +before any one is awake, or that you are in a boom town from which +the boom has departed. + +On almost every one of the noted shops "Ferme" is written, or it has +been turned over to the use of the Red Cross. Of the smaller shops +those that remain open are chiefly bakeshops and chemists, but no +man need go naked or hungry; in every block he will find at least one +place where he can be clothed and fed. But the theatres are all +closed. No one is in a mood to laugh, and certainly no one wishes to +consider anything more serious than the present crisis. So there are +no revues, operas, or comedies. + +The thing you missed perhaps most were the children in the Avenue +des Champs Elysees. For generations over that part of the public +garden the children have held sway. They knew it belonged to them, +and into the gravel walks drove their tin spades with the same sense +of ownership as at Deauville they dig up the shore. Their straw hats +and bare legs, their Normandy nurses, with enormous head-dresses, +blue for a boy and pink for a girl, were, of the sights of Paris, one of +the most familiar. And when the children vanished they left a dreary +wilderness. You could look for a mile, from the Place de la Concorde +to the Arc de Triomphe, and not see a child. The stalls, where they +bought hoops and skipping-ropes, the flying wooden horses, Punch- +and-Judy shows, booths where with milk they refreshed themselves +and with bonbons made themselves ill, all were deserted and +boarded up. + +The closing down of the majority of the shops and hotels was not due +to a desire on the part of those employed in them to avoid the +Germans, but to get at the Germans. + +On shop after shop are signs reading: "The proprietor and staff are +with the colors," or "The personnel of this establishment is mobilized," +or "Monsieur------informs his clients that he is with his regiment." + +In the absence of men at the front, Frenchwomen, at all times +capable and excellent managers, have surpassed themselves. In my +hotel there were employed seven women and one man. In another +hotel I visited the entire staff was composed of women. + +An American banker offered his twenty-two polo ponies to the +government. They were refused as not heavy enough. He did not +know that, and supposed he had lost them. Later he learned from the +wife of his trainer, a Frenchwoman, that those employed in his stables +at Versailles who had not gone to the front at the approach of the +Germans had fled, and that for three weeks his string of twenty-two +horses had been fed, groomed, and exercised by the trainer's wife +and her two little girls. + +To an American it was very gratifying to hear the praise of the French +and English for the American ambulance at Neuilly. It is the outgrowth +of the American hospital, and at the start of this war was organized by +Mrs. Herrick, wife of our ambassador, and other ladies of the +American colony in Paris, and the American doctors. They took over +the Lycee Pasteur, an enormous school at Neuilly, that had just been +finished and never occupied, and converted it into what is a most +splendidly equipped hospital. In walking over the building you find it +hard to believe that it was intended for any other than its present use. +The operating rooms, kitchens, wards, rooms for operating by +Roentgen rays, and even a chapel have been installed. + +The organization and system are of the highest order. Every one in it +is American. The doctors are the best in Paris. The nurses and +orderlies are both especially trained for the work and volunteers. The +spirit of helpfulness and unselfishness is everywhere apparent. +Certain members of the American colony, who never in their lives +thought of any one save themselves, and of how to escape boredom, +are toiling like chambermaids and hall porters, performing most +disagreeable tasks, not for a few hours a week, but unceasingly, day +after day. No task is too heavy for them or too squalid. They help all +alike--Germans, English, major-generals, and black Turcos. + +There are three hundred patients. The staff of the hospital numbers +one hundred and fifty. It is composed of the best-known American +doctors in Paris and a few from New York. Among the volunteer +nurses and attendants are wives of bankers in Paris, American girls +who have married French titles, and girls who since the war came +have lost employment as teachers of languages, stenographers, and +governesses. The men are members of the Jockey Club, art +students, medical students, clerks, and boulevardiers. They are all +working together in most admirable harmony and under an +organization that in its efficiency far surpasses that of any other +hospital in Paris. Later it is going to split the American colony in twain. +If you did not work in the American ambulance you won't belong. + +Attached to the hospital is a squadron of automobile ambulances, ten +of which were presented by the Ford Company and ten purchased. +Their chassis have been covered with khaki hoods and fitted to +carry two wounded men and attendants. On their runs they are +accompanied by automobiles with medical supplies, tires, and +gasolene. The ambulances scout at the rear of the battle line and +carry back those which the field-hospitals cannot handle. + +One day I watched the orderlies who accompany these ambulances +handling about forty English wounded, transferring them from the +automobiles to the reception hall, and the smartness and intelligence +with which the members of each crew worked together was like that +of a champion polo team. The editor of a London paper, who was in +Paris investigating English hospital conditions, witnessed the same +performance, and told me that in handling the wounded it surpassed +in efficiency anything he had seen. + + + + +Chapter V +The Battle Of Soissons + + + +The struggle for the possession of Soissons lasted two days. The +second day's battle, which I witnessed, ended with the city in the +possession of the French. It was part of the seven days' of +continuous fighting that began on September 6th at Meaux. Then the +German left wing, consisting of the army of General von Kluck, was at +Claye, within fifteen miles of Paris. But the French and English, +instead of meeting the advance with a defence, themselves attacked. +Steadily, at the rate of ten miles a day, they drove the Germans back +across the Aisne and the Marne, and so saved the city. + +When this retrograde movement of the Germans began, those who +could not see the nature of the fighting believed that the German line +of communication, the one from Aix-la-Chapelle through Belgium, had +proved too long, and that the left wing was voluntarily withdrawing to +meet the new line of communication through Luxembourg. But the +fields of battle beyond Meaux, through which it was necessary to +pass to reach the fight at Sois-sons, showed no evidence of leisurely +withdrawal. On both sides there were evidences of the most +desperate fighting and of artillery fire that was wide-spread and +desolating. That of the Germans, intended to destroy the road from +Meaux and to cover their retreat, showed marksmanship so accurate +and execution so terrible as, while it lasted, to render pursuit +impossible. + +The battle-field stretched from the hills three miles north of Meaux for +four miles along the road and a mile to either side. The road is lined +with poplars three feet across and as high as a five-story building. For +the four miles the road was piled with branches of these trees. The +trees themselves were split as by lightning, or torn in half, as with your +hands you could tear apart a loaf of bread. Through some, solid shell +had passed, leaving clean holes. Others looked as though drunken +woodsmen with axes from roots to topmost branches had slashed +them in crazy fury. Some shells had broken the trunks in half as a +hurricane snaps a mast. + +That no human being could survive such a bombardment were many +grewsome proofs. In one place for a mile the road was lined with +those wicker baskets in which the Germans carry their ammunition. +These were filled with shells, unexploded, and behind the trenches +were hundreds more of these baskets, some for the shells of the +siege-guns, as large as lobster-pots or umbrella-stands, and others, +each with three compartments, for shrapnel. In gutters along the road +and in the wheat-fields these brass shells flashed in the sunshine like +tiny mirrors. + +The four miles of countryside over which for four days both armies +had ploughed the earth with these shells was the picture of complete +desolation. The rout of the German army was marked by knapsacks, +uniforms, and accoutrements scattered over the fields on either hand +as far as you could see. Red Cross flags hanging from bushes +showed where there had been dressing stations. Under them were +blood-stains, bandages and clothing, and boots piled in heaps as +high as a man's chest, and the bodies of those German soldiers that +the first aid had failed to save. + +After death the body is mercifully robbed of its human aspect. You are +spared the thought that what is lying in the trenches among the +shattered trees and in the wheat-fields staring up at the sky was once +a man. It appears to be only a bundle of clothes, a scarecrow that +has tumbled among the grain it once protected. But it gives a terrible +meaning to the word "missing." When you read in the reports from +the War Office that five thousand are "missing," you like to think of +them safely cared for in a hospital or dragging out the period of the +war as prisoners. But the real missing are the unidentified dead. In +time some peasant will bury them, but he will not understand the +purpose of the medal each wears around his neck. And so, with the +dead man will be buried his name and the number of his regiment. No +one will know where he fell or where he lies. Some one will always +hope that he will return. For, among the dead his name did not +appear. He was reported "missing." + +The utter wastefulness of war was seldom more clearly shown. +Carcasses of horses lined the road. Some few of these had been +killed by shell-fire. Others, worn out and emaciated, and bearing the +brand of the German army, had been mercifully destroyed; but the +greater number of them were the farm horses of peasants, still +wearing their head-stalls or the harness of the plough. That they +might not aid the enemy as remounts, the Germans in their retreat +had shot them. I saw four and five together in the yards of stables, +the bullet-hole of an automatic in the head of each. Others lay beside +the market cart, others by the canal, where they had sought water. + +Less pitiful, but still evidencing the wastefulness of war, were the +motor-trucks, and automobiles that in the flight had been abandoned. +For twenty miles these automobiles were scattered along the road. +There were so many one stopped counting them. Added to their loss +were two shattered German airships. One I saw twenty-six kilometres +outside of Meaux and one at Bouneville. As they fell they had buried +their motors deep in the soft earth and their wings were twisted +wrecks of silk and steel. + +All the fields through which the army passed had become waste land. +Shells had re-ploughed them. Horses and men had camped in them. +The haystacks, gathered by the sweat of the brow and patiently set in +trim rows were trampled in the mud and scattered to the winds. All the +smaller villages through which I passed were empty of people, and +since the day before, when the Germans occupied them, none of the +inhabitants had returned. These villages were just as the Germans +had left them. The streets were piled with grain on which the soldiers +had slept, and on the sidewalks in front of the better class of houses +tables around which the officers had eaten still remained, the bottles +half empty, the food half eaten. + +In a chateau beyond Neufchelles the doors and windows were open +and lace curtains were blowing in the breeze. From the garden you +could see paintings on the walls, books on the tables. Outside, on the +lawn, surrounded by old and charming gardens, apparently the +general and his staff had prepared to dine. The table was set for a +dozen, and on it were candles in silver sticks, many bottles of red and +white wine, champagne, liqueurs, and coffee-cups of the finest china. +From their banquet some alarm had summoned the officers. The +place was as they had left it, the coffee untasted, the candles burned +to the candlesticks, and red stains on the cloth where the burgundy +had spilled. In the bright sunlight, and surrounded by flowers, the +deserted table and the silent, stately chateau seemed like the +sleeping palace of the fairy-tale. + +Though the humor of troops retreating is an ugly one, I saw no +outrages such as I saw in Belgium. Except in the villages of Neuf- +chelles and Varreddes, there was no sign of looting or wanton +destruction. But in those two villages the interior of every home and +shop was completely wrecked. In the other villages the destruction +was such as is permitted by the usages of war, such as the blowing +up of bridges, the burning of the railroad station, and the cutting of +telegraph-wires. + +Not until Bouneville, thirty kilometres beyond Meaux, did I catch up +with the Allies. There I met some English Tommies who were trying to +find their column. They had no knowledge of the French language, or +where they were, or where their regiment was, but were quite +confident of finding it, and were as cheerful as at manoeuvres. +Outside of Chaudun the road was blocked with tirailleurs, Algerians in +light-blue Zouave uniforms, and native Turcos from Morocco in khaki, +with khaki turbans. They shivered in the autumn sunshine, and were +wrapped in burnooses of black and white. They were making a +turning movement to attack the German right, and were being hurried +forward. They had just driven the German rear-guard out of Chaudun, +and said that the fighting was still going on at Soissons. But the only +sign I saw of it were two Turcos who had followed the Germans too +far. They lay sprawling in the road, and had so lately fallen that their +rifles still lay under them. Three miles farther I came upon the +advance line of the French army, and for the remainder of the day +watched a most remarkable artillery duel, which ended with Soissons +in the hands of the Allies. + +Soissons is a pretty town of four thousand inhabitants. It is chiefly +known for its haricot beans, and since the Romans held it under +Caesar it has been besieged many times. Until to-day the Germans +had held it for two weeks. In 1870 they bombarded it for four days, +and there is, or was, in Soissons, in the Place de la Republique, a +monument to those citizens of Soissons whom after that siege the +Germans shot. The town lies in the valley of the River Aisne, which is +formed by two long ridges running south and north. + +The Germans occupied the hills to the south, but when attacked +offered only slight resistance and withdrew to the hills opposite. In +Soissons they left a rear-guard to protect their supplies, who were +destroying all bridges leading into the town. At the time I arrived a +force of Turcos had been ordered forward to clean Soissons of the +Germans, and the French artillery was endeavoring to disclose their +positions on the hills. The loss of the bridges did not embarrass the +black men. In rowboats they crossed to Soissons and were warmly +greeted. Soissons was drawing no color-line. The Turcos were +followed by engineers, who endeavored to repair one bridge and in +consequence were heavily shelled with shrapnel, while, with the intent +to destroy the road and retard the French advance, the hills where +the French had halted were being pounded by German siege-guns. + +This was at a point four kilometres from Chaudun, between the +villages of Breuil and Courtelles. From this height you could see +almost to Compiegne, and thirty miles in front in the direction of Saint- +Quentin. It was a panorama of wooded hills, gray villages in fields of +yellow grain, miles of poplars marking the roads, and below us the +flashing waters of the Aisne and the canal, with at our feet the +steeples of the cathedral of Soissons and the gate to the old abbey of +Thomas a Becket. Across these steeples the shells sang, and on +both sides of the Aisne Valley the artillery was engaged. The wind +was blowing forty knots, which prevented the use of the French +aeroplanes, but it cleared the air, and, helped by brilliant sunshine, it +was possible to follow the smoke of the battle for fifteen miles. The +wind was blowing toward our right, where we were told were the +English, and though as their shrapnel burst we could see the flash of +guns and rings of smoke, the report of the guns did not reach us. It +gave the curious impression of a bombardment conducted in utter +silence. + +From our left the wind carried the sounds clearly. The jar and roar of +the cannon were insistent, and on both sides of the valley the hilltops +were wrapped with white clouds. Back of us in the wheat-fields shells +were setting fire to the giant haystacks and piles of grain, which in the +clear sunshine burned a blatant red. At times shells would strike in +the villages of Breuil and Vauxbain, and houses would burst into +flames, the gale fanning the fire to great height and hiding the village +in smoke. Some three hundred yards ahead of us the shells of +German siege-guns were trying to destroy the road, which the +poplars clearly betrayed. But their practice was at fault, and the shells +fell only on either side. When they struck they burst with a roar, +casting up black fumes and digging a grave twenty yards in +circumference. + +But the French soldiers disregarded them entirely. In the trenches +which the Germans had made and abandoned they hid from the wind +and slept peacefully. Others slept in the lee of the haystacks, their red +breeches and blue coats making wonderful splashes of color against +the yellow grain. For seven days these same men had been fighting +without pause, and battles bore them. + +Late in the afternoon, all along the fifteen miles of battle, firing +ceased, for the Germans were falling back, and once more Soissons, +freed of them as fifteen hundred years ago she had freed herself of +the Romans, held out her arms to the Allies. + + + + +Chapter VI +The Bombardment of Rheims + + + +In several ways the city of Rheims is celebrated. Some know her only +through her cathedral, where were crowned all but six of the kings of +France, and where the stained-glass windows, with those in the +cathedrals of Chartres and Burgos, Spain, are the most beautiful in all +the world. Children know Rheims through the wicked magpie which +the archbishop excommunicated, and to their elders, if they are rich, +Rheims is the place from which comes all their champagne. + +On September 4th the Germans entered Rheims, and occupied it +until the 12th, when they retreated across the Vesle to the hills north +of the city. + +On the 18th the French forces, having entered Rheims, the Germans +bombarded the city with field-guns and howitzers. + +Rheims is fifty-six miles from Paris, but, though I started at an early +hour, so many bridges had been destroyed that I did not reach the +city until three o'clock in the afternoon. At that hour the French +artillery, to the east at Nogent and immediately outside the northern +edge of the town, were firing on the German positions, and the +Germans were replying, their shells falling in the heart of the city. + +The proportion of those that struck the cathedral or houses within a +hundred yards of it to those falling on other buildings was about six to +one. So what damage the cathedral suffered was from blows +delivered not by accident but with intent. As the priests put it, firing on +the church was "expres." + +The cathedral dominates not only the city but the countryside. It rises +from the plain as Gibraltar rises from the sea, as the pyramids rise +from the desert. And at a distance of six miles, as you approach from +Paris along the valley of the Marne, it has more the appearance of a +fortress than a church. But when you stand in the square beneath +and look up, it is entirely ecclesiastic, of noble and magnificent +proportions, in design inspired, much too sublime for the kings it has +crowned, and almost worthy of the king in whose honor, seven +hundred years ago, it was reared. It has been called "perhaps the +most beautiful structure produced in the Middle Ages." On the west +facade, rising tier upon tier, are five hundred and sixty statues and +carvings. The statues are of angels, martyrs, patriarchs, apostles, the +vices and virtues, the Virgin and Child. In the centre of these is the +famous rose window; on either side giant towers. + +At my feet down the steps leading to the three portals were pools of +blood. There was a priest in the square, a young man with white hair +and with a face as strong as one of those of the saints carved in +stone, and as gentle. He was cure doyen of the Church of St. +Jacques, M. Chanoine Frezet, and he explained the pools of blood. +After the Germans retreated, the priests had carried the German +wounded up the steps into the nave of the cathedral and for them +had spread straw upon the stone flagging. + +The cure guided me to the side door, unlocked it, and led the way into +the cathedral. It is built in the form of a crucifix, and so vast is the +edifice that many chapels are lost in it, and the lower half is in a +shadow. But from high above the stained windows of the thirteenth +century, or what was left of them, was cast a glow so gorgeous, so +wonderful, so pure that it seemed to come direct from the other world. + +From north and south the windows shed a radiance of deep blue, like +the blue of the sky by moonlight on the coldest night of winter, and +from the west the great rose window glowed with the warmth and +beauty of a thousand rubies. Beneath it, bathed in crimson light, +where for generations French men and women have knelt in prayer, +where Joan of Arc helped place the crown on Charles VII, was piled +three feet of dirty straw, and on the straw were gray-coated Germans, +covered with the mud of the fields, caked with blood, white and +haggard from the loss of it, from the lack of sleep, rest, and food. The +entire west end of the cathedral looked like a stable, and in the blue +and purple rays from the gorgeous windows the wounded were as +unreal as ghosts. Already two of them had passed into the world of +ghosts. They had not died from their wounds, but from a shell sent by +their own people. + +It had come screaming into this backwater of war, and, tearing out +leaded window-panes as you would destroy cobwebs, had burst +among those who already had paid the penalty. And so two of them, +done with pack-drill, goose-step, half rations and forced marches, lay +under the straw the priests had heaped upon them. The toes of their +boots were pointed grotesquely upward. Their gray hands were +clasped rigidly as though in prayer. + +Half hidden in the straw, the others were as silent and almost as still. +Since they had been dropped upon the stone floor they had not +moved, but lay in twisted, unnatural attitudes. Only their eyes showed +that they lived. These were turned beseechingly upon the French +Red Cross doctors, kneeling waist-high in the straw and unreeling +long white bandages. The wounded watched them drawing slowly +nearer, until they came, fighting off death, clinging to life as +shipwrecked sailors cling to a raft and watch the boats pulling toward +them. + +A young German officer, his smart cavalry cloak torn and slashed, +and filthy with dried mud and blood and with his eyes in bandages, +groped toward a pail of water, feeling his way with his foot, his arms +outstretched, clutching the air. To guide him a priest took his arm, and +the officer turned and stumbled against him. Thinking the priest was +one of his own men, he swore at him, and then, to learn if he wore +shoulder-straps, ran his fingers over the priest's shoulders, and, +finding a silk cassock, said quickly in French: "Pardon me, my father; +I am blind." + +As the young cure guided me through the wrecked cathedral his +indignation and his fear of being unjust waged a fine battle. "Every +summer," he said, "thousands of your fellow countrymen visit the +cathedral. They come again and again. They love these beautiful +windows. They will not permit them to be destroyed. Will you tell them +what you saw?" + +It is no pleasure to tell what I saw. Shells had torn out some of the +windows, the entire sash, glass, and stone frame--all was gone; only +a jagged hole was left. On the floor lay broken carvings, pieces of +stone from flying buttresses outside that had been hurled through the +embrasures, tangled masses of leaden window-sashes, like twisted +coils of barbed wire, and great brass candelabra. The steel ropes that +supported them had been shot away, and they had plunged to the +flagging below, carrying with them their scarlet silk tassels heavy with +the dust of centuries. And everywhere was broken glass. Not one of +the famous blue windows was intact. None had been totally +destroyed, but each had been shattered, and through the apertures +the sun blazed blatantly. + +We walked upon glass more precious than precious stones. It was +beyond price. No one can replace it. Seven hundred years ago the +secret of the glass died. Diamonds can be bought anywhere, pearls +can be matched, but not the stained glass of Rheims. And under our +feet, with straw and caked blood, it lay crushed into tiny fragments. +When you held a piece of it between your eye and the sun it glowed +with a light that never was on land or sea. + +War is only waste. The German Emperor thinks it is thousands of +men in flashing breastplates at manoeuvres, galloping past him, +shouting "Hoch der Kaiser!" Until this year that is all of war he has +ever seen. + +I have seen a lot of it, and real war is his high-born officer with his +eyes shot out, his peasant soldiers with their toes sticking stiffly +through the straw, and the windows of Rheims, that for centuries with +their beauty glorified the Lord, swept into a dust heap. + +Outside the cathedral I found the bombardment of the city was still +going forward and that the French batteries to the north and east +were answering gun for gun. How people will act under unusual +conditions no one can guess. Many of the citizens of Rheims were +abandoning their homes and running through the streets leading +west, trembling, weeping, incoherent with terror, carrying nothing with +them. Others were continuing the routine of life with anxious faces but +making no other sign. The great majority had moved to the west of +the city to the Paris gate, and for miles lined the road, but had taken +little or nothing with them, apparently intending to return at nightfall. +They were all of the poorer class. The houses of the rich were closed, +as were all the shops, except a few cafes and those that offered for +sale bread, meat, and medicine. + +During the morning the bombardment destroyed many houses. One +to each block was the average, except around the cathedral, where +two hotels that face it and the Palace of Justice had been pounded +but not destroyed. Other shops and residences facing the cathedral +had been ripped open from roof to cellar. In one a fire was burning +briskly, and firemen were playing on it with hose. I was their only +audience. A sight that at other times would have collected half of +Rheims and blocked traffic, in the excitement of the bombardment +failed to attract. The Germans were using howitzers. Where shells hit +in the street they tore up the Belgian blocks for a radius of five yards, +and made a hole as though a water-main had burst. When they hit a +house, that house had to be rebuilt. Before they struck it was possible +to follow the direction of the shells by the sound. It was like the +jangling of many telegraph-wires. + +A hundred yards north of the cathedral I saw a house hit at the third +story. The roof was of gray slate, high and sloping, with tall chimneys. +When the shell exploded the roof and chimneys disappeared. You did +not see them sink and tumble; they merely vanished. They had been +a part of the sky-line of Rheims; then a shell removed them and +another roof fifteen feet lower down became the sky-line. + +I walked to the edge of the city, to the northeast, but at the outskirts +all the streets were barricaded with carts and paving-stones, and +when I wanted to pass forward to the French batteries the officers in +charge of the barricades refused permission. At this end of the town, +held in reserve in case of a German advance, the streets were +packed with infantry. The men were going from shop to shop trying to +find one the Germans had not emptied. Tobacco was what they +sought. + +They told me they had been all the way to Belgium and back, but I +never have seen men more fit. Where Germans are haggard and +show need of food and sleep, the French were hard and moved +quickly and were smiling. + +One reason for this is that even if the commissariat is slow they are +fed by their own people, and when in Belgium by the Allies. But when +the Germans pass the people hide everything eatable and bolt the +doors. And so, when the German supply wagons fail to come up the +men starve. + +I went in search of the American consul, William Bardel. Everybody +seemed to know him, and all men spoke well of him. They liked him +because he stuck to his post, but the mayor had sent for him, and I +could find neither him nor the mayor. + +When I left the cathedral I had told my chauffeur to wait near by it, not +believing the Germans would continue to make it their point of attack. +He waited until two houses within a hundred yards of him were +knocked down, and then went away from there, leaving word with the +sentry that I could find him outside the gate to Paris. When I found +him he was well outside and refused to return, saying he would sleep +in his car. + +On the way back I met a steady stream of women and old men +fleeing before the shells. Their state was very pitiful. Some of them +seemed quite dazed with fear and ran, dodging, from one sidewalk to +the other, and as shells burst above them prayed aloud and crossed +themselves. Others were busy behind the counters of their shops +serving customers, and others stood in doorways holding in their +hands their knitting. Frenchwomen of a certain class always knit. If +they were waiting to be electrocuted they would continue knitting. + +The bombardment had grown sharper and the rumble of guns was +uninterrupted, growling like thunder after a summer storm or as the +shells passed shrieking and then bursting with jarring detonations. +Underfoot the pavements were inch-deep with fallen glass, and as +you walked it tinkled musically. With inborn sense of order, some of +the housewives abandoned their knitting and calmly swept up the +glass into neat piles. Habit is often so much stronger than fear. So is +curiosity. All the boys and many young men and maidens were in the +middle of the street watching to see where the shells struck and on +the lookout for aeroplanes. When about five o'clock one sailed over +the city, no one knew whether it was German or French, but every +one followed it, apparently intending if it launched a bomb to be in at +the death. + +I found all the hotels closed and on their doors I pounded in vain, and +was planning to go back to my car when I stumbled upon the Hotel +du Nord. It was open and the proprietress, who was knitting, told me +the table-d'hote dinner was ready. Not wishing to miss dinner, I halted +an aged citizen who was fleeing from the city and asked him to carry +a note to the American consul inviting him to dine. But the aged man +said the consulate was close to where the shells were falling and that +to approach it was as much as his life was worth. I asked him how +much his life was worth in money, and he said two francs. + +He did not find the consul, and I shared the table d'hote with three +tearful old French ladies, each of whom had husband or son at the +front. That would seem to have been enough without being shelled at +home. It is a commonplace, but it is nevertheless true that in war it is +the women who suffer. The proprietress walked around the table, still +knitting, and told us tales of German officers who until the day before +had occupied her hotel, and her anecdotes were not intended to +make German officers popular. + +The bombardment ceased at eight o'clock, but at four the next +morning it woke me, and as I departed for Paris salvoes of French +artillery were returning the German fire. + +Before leaving I revisited the cathedral to see if during the night it had +been further mutilated. Around it shells were still falling, and the +square in front was deserted. In the rain the roofless houses, +shattered windows, and broken carvings that littered the street +presented a picture of melancholy and useless desolation. Around +three sides of the square not a building was intact. But facing the +wreckage the bronze statue of Joan of Arc sat on her bronze charger, +uninjured and untouched. In her right hand, lifted high above her as +though defying the German shells, some one overnight had lashed +the flag of France. + +The next morning the newspapers announced that the cathedral was +in flames, and I returned to Rheims. The papers also gave the two +official excuses offered by the Germans for the destruction of the +church. One was that the French batteries were so placed that in +replying to them it was impossible to avoid shelling the city. + +I know where the French batteries were, and if the German guns +aimed at them by error missed them and hit the cathedral, the +German marksmanship is deteriorating. To find the range the artillery +sends what in the American army are called brace shots--one aimed +at a point beyond the mark and one short of it. From the explosions of +these two shells the gunner is able to determine how far he is off the +target and accordingly regulates his sights. Not more, at the most, +than three of these experimental brace shots should be necessary, +and, as one of each brace is purposely aimed to fall short of the +target, only three German shells, or, as there were two French +positions, six German shells should have fallen beyond the batteries +and into the city. And yet for four days the city was bombarded! + +To make sure, I asked French, English, and American army officers +what margin of error they thought excusable after the range was +determined. They all agreed that after his range was found an artillery +officer who missed it by from fifty to one hundred yards ought to be +court-martialled. The Germans "missed" by one mile. + +The other excuse given by the Germans for the destruction of the +cathedral was that the towers had been used by the French for +military purposes. On arriving at Rheims the question I first asked +was whether this was true. The abbe Chinot, cure of the chapel of the +cathedral, assured me most solemnly and earnestly it was not. The +French and the German staffs, he said, had mutually agreed that on +the towers of the cathedral no quick-firing guns should be placed, and +by both sides this agreement was observed. After entering Rheims +the French, to protect the innocent citizens against bombs dropped +by German air-ships, for two nights placed a search-light on the +towers, but, fearing this might be considered a breach of agreement +as to the mitrailleuses, the abbe Chinot ordered the search-light +withdrawn. Five days later, during which time the towers were not +occupied and the cathedral had been converted into a hospital for the +German wounded and Red Cross flags were hanging from both +towers, the Germans opened fire upon it. Had it been the search-light +to which the Germans objected, they would have fired upon it when it +was in evidence, not five days after it had disappeared. + +When, with the abbe Chinot, I spent the day in what is left of the +cathedral, the Germans still were shelling it. Two shells fell within +twenty-five yards of us. It was at that time that the photographs that +illustrate this chapter were taken. + +The fire started in this way. For some months the northeast tower of +the cathedral had been under repair and surrounded by scaffolding. +On September 19th a shell set fire to the outer roof of the cathedral, +which is of lead and oak. The fire spread to the scaffolding and from +the scaffolding to the wooden beams of the portals, hundred of years +old. The abbe Chinot, young/alert, and daring, ran out upon the +scaffolding and tried to cut the cords that bound it. + +In other parts of the city the fire department was engaged with fire lit +by the bombardment, and unaided, the flames gained upon him. +Seeing this, he called for volunteers, and, under the direction of the +Archbishop of Rheims, they carried on stretchers from the burning +building the wounded Germans. The rescuing parties were not a +minute too soon. Already from the roofs molten lead, as deadly as +bullets, was falling among the wounded. The blazing doors had +turned the straw on which they lay into a prairie fire. + +Splashed by the molten lead and threatened by falling timbers, the +priests, at the risk of their lives and limbs, carried out the wounded +Germans, sixty in all. + +But, after bearing them to safety, their charges were confronted with a +new danger. Inflamed by the sight of their own dead, four hundred +citizens having been killed by the bombardment, and by the loss of +their cathedral, the people of Rheims who were gathered about the +burning building called for the lives of the German prisoners. "They +are barbarians," they cried. "Kill them!" Archbishop Landreaux and +Abbe Chinot placed themselves in front of the wounded. + +"Before you kill them," they cried, "you must first kill us." + +This is not highly colored fiction, but fact. It is more than fact. It is +history, for the picture of the venerable archbishop, with his cathedral +blazing behind him, facing a mob of his own people in defence of their +enemies, will always live in the annals of this war and in the annals of +the church. + +There were other features of this fire and bombardment which the +Catholic Church will not allow to be forgotten. The leaden roofs were +destroyed, the oak timbers that for several hundred years had +supported them were destroyed, stone statues and flying buttresses +weighing many tons were smashed into atoms, but not a single +crucifix was touched, not one waxen or wooden image of the Virgin +disturbed, not one painting of the Holy Family marred. + +I saw the Gobelin tapestries, more precious than spun gold, intact, +while sparks fell about them, and lying beneath them were iron bolts +twisted by fire, broken rooftrees and beams still smouldering. + +But the special Providence that saved the altars was not omnipotent. +The windows that were the glory of the cathedral were wrecked. +Through some the shells had passed, others the explosions had +blown into tiny fragments. Where, on my first visit, I saw in the stained +glass gaping holes, now the whole window had been torn from the +walls. Statues of saints and crusader and cherubim lay in mangled +fragments. The great bells, each of which is as large as the Liberty +Bell in Philadelphia, that for hundreds of years for Rheims have +sounded the angelus, were torn from their oak girders and melted into +black masses of silver and copper, without shape and without sound. +Never have I looked upon a picture of such pathos, of such wanton +and wicked destruction. + +The towers still stand, the walls still stand, for beneath the roofs of +lead the roof of stone remained, but what is intact is a pitiful, distorted +mass where once were exquisite and noble features. It is like the face +of a beautiful saint scarred with vitriol. + +Two days before, when I walked through the cathedral, the scene +was the same as when kings were crowned. You stood where Joan +of Arc received the homage of France. When I returned I walked +upon charred ashes, broken stone, and shattered glass. Where once +the light was dim and holy, now through great breaches in the walls +rain splashed. The spirit of the place was gone. + +Outside the cathedral, in the direction from which the shells came, for +three city blocks every house was destroyed. The palace of the +archbishop was gutted, the chapel and the robing-room of the kings +were cellars filled with rubbish. Of them only crumbling walls remain. +And on the south and west the facades of the cathedral and flying +buttresses and statues of kings, angels, and saints were mangled +and shapeless. + +I walked over the district that had been destroyed by these accidental +shots, and it stretched from the northeastern outskirts of Rheims in a +straight line to the cathedral. Shells that fell short of the cathedral for +a quarter of a mile destroyed entirely three city blocks. The heart of +this district is the Place Godinot. In every direction at a distance of +a mile from the Place Godinot I passed houses wrecked by shells +--south at the Paris gate, north at the railroad station. + +There is no part of Rheims that these shells the Germans claim were +aimed at French batteries did not hit. If Rheims accepts the German +excuse she might suggest to them that the next time they bombard, if +they aim at the city they may hit the batteries. + +The Germans claim also that the damage done was from fires, not +shells. But that is not the case; destruction by fire was slight. Houses +wrecked by shells where there was no fire outnumbered those that +were burned ten to one. In no house was there probably any other +fire than that in the kitchen stove, and that had been smothered by +falling masonry and tiles. + +Outside the wrecked area were many shops belonging to American +firms, but each of them had escaped injury. They were filled with +American typewriters, sewing-machines, and cameras. A number of +cafes bearing the sign "American Bar" testified to the nationality and +tastes of many tourists. + +I found our consul, William Bardel, at the consulate. He is a fine type +of the German-American citizen, and, since the war began, with his +wife and son has held the fort and tactfully looked after the interests +of both Americans and Germans. On both sides of him shells had +damaged the houses immediately adjoining. The one across the +street had been destroyed and two neighbors killed. + +The street in front of the consulate is a mass of fallen stone, and the +morning I called on Mr. Bardel a shell had hit his neighbor's chestnut- +tree, filled his garden with chestnut burrs, and blown out the glass of +his windows. He was patching the holes with brown wrapping-paper, +but was chiefly concerned because in his own garden the dahlias +were broken. During the first part of the bombardment, when firing +became too hot for him, he had retreated with his family to the corner +of the street, where are the cellars of the Roderers, the champagne +people. There are worse places in which to hide in than a champagne +cellar. + +Mr. Bardel has lived six years in Rheims and estimated the damage +done to property by shells at thirty millions of dollars, and said that +unless the seat of military operations was removed the champagne +crop for this year would be entirely wasted. It promised to be an +especially good year. The seasons were propitious, being dry when +sun was needed and wet when rain was needed, but unless the +grapes were gathered by the end of September the crops would be +lost. + +Of interest to Broadway is the fact that in Rheims, or rather in her +cellars, are stored nearly fifty million bottles of champagne belonging +to six of the best-known houses. Should shells reach these bottles, +the high price of living in the lobster palaces will be proportionately +increased. + +Except for Red Cross volunteers seeking among the ruins for +wounded, I found that part of the city that had suffered completely +deserted. Shells still were falling and houses as yet intact, and those +partly destroyed were empty. You saw pitiful attempts to save the +pieces. In places, as though evictions were going forward, chairs, +pictures, cooking-pans, bedding were piled in heaps. There was none +to guard them; certainly there was no one so unfeeling as to disturb +them. + +I saw neither looting nor any effort to guard against it. In their +common danger and horror the citizens of Rheims of all classes +seemed drawn closely together. The manner of all was subdued and +gentle, like those who stand at an open grave. + +The shells played the most inconceivable pranks. In some streets the +houses and shops along one side were entirely wiped out and on the +other untouched. In the Rue du Cardinal du Lorraine every house +was gone. Where they once stood were cellars filled with powdered +stone. Tall chimneys that one would have thought a strong wind +might dislodge were holding themselves erect, while the surrounding +walls, three feet thick, had been crumpled into rubbish. + +In some houses a shell had removed one room only, and as neatly +as though it were the work of masons and carpenters. It was as +though the shell had a grievance against the lodger in that particular +room. The waste was appalling. + +Among the ruins I saw good paintings in rags and in gardens statues +covered with the moss of centuries smashed. In many places, still on +the pedestal, you would see a headless Venus, or a flying Mercury +chopped off at the waist. + +Long streamers of ivy that during a century had crept higher and +higher up the wall of some noble mansion, until they were part of it, +still clung to it, although it was divided into a thousand fragments. Of +one house all that was left standing was a slice of the front wall just +wide enough to bear a sign reading: "This house is for sale; elegantly +furnished." Nothing else of that house remained. + +In some streets of the destroyed area I met not one living person. +The noise made by my feet kicking the broken glass was the only +sound. The silence, the gaping holes in the sidewalk, the ghastly +tributes to the power of the shells, and the complete desolation, made +more desolate by the bright sunshine, gave you a curious feeling that +the end of the world had come and you were the only survivor. + +This-impression was aided by the sight of many rare and valuable +articles with no one guarding them. They were things of price that one +may not carry into the next world but which in this are kept under lock +and key. + +In the Rue de l'Universite, at my leisure, I could have ransacked shop +after shop or from the shattered drawing-rooms filled my pockets. +Shopkeepers had gone without waiting to lock their doors, and in +houses the fronts of which were down you could see that, in order to +save their lives, the inmates had fled at a moment's warning. + +In one street a high wall extended an entire block, but in the centre a +howitzer shell had made a breach as large as a barn door. Through +this I had a view of an old and beautiful garden, on which oasis +nothing had been disturbed. Hanging from the walls, on diamond- +shaped lattices, roses were still in bloom, and along the gravel walks +flowers of every color raised their petals to the sunshine. On the +terrace was spread a tea-service of silver and on the grass were +children's toys--hoops, tennis-balls, and flat on its back, staring up +wide-eyed at the shells, a large, fashionably dressed doll. + +In another house everything was destroyed except the mantel over +the fireplace in the drawing-room. On this stood a terra-cotta statuette +of Harlequin. It is one you have often seen. The legs are wide apart, +the arms folded, the head thrown back in an ecstasy of laughter. It +looked exactly as though it were laughing at the wreckage with which +it was surrounded. No one could have placed it where it was after the +house fell, for the approach to it was still on fire. Of all the fantastic +tricks played by the bursting shells it was the most curious. + + + + +Chapter VII +The Spirit Of The English + + + +When I left England for home I had just returned from France and +had motored many miles in both countries. Everywhere in this +greatest crisis of the century I found the people of England showing +the most undaunted and splendid spirit. To their common enemy they +are presenting an unbroken front. The civilian is playing his part just +as loyally as the soldier, the women as bravely as the men. + +They appreciate that not only their own existence is threatened, but +the future peace and welfare of the world require that the military +party of Germany must be wiped out. That is their burden, and with +the heroic Belgians to inspire them, without a whimper or a whine of +self-pity, they are bearing their burden. + +Every one in England is making sacrifices great and small. As long +ago as the middle of September it was so cold along the Aisne that I +have seen the French, sooner than move away from the open fires +they had made, risk the falling shells. Since then it has grown much +colder, and Kitchener issued an invitation to the English people to +send in what blankets they could spare for the army in the field and in +reserve. The idea was to dye the blankets khaki and then turn them +over to the supply department. In one week, so eagerly did the +people respond to this appeal, Kitchener had to publish a card stating +that no more blankets were needed. He had received over half a +million. + +The reply to Kitchener's appeal for recruits was as prompt and +generous. The men came so rapidly that the standard for enlistment +was raised. That is, I believe, in the history of warfare without +precedent. Nations often have lowered their requirements for +enlistment, but after war was once well under way to make recruiting +more difficult is new. The sacrifices are made by every class. + +There is no business enterprise of any sort that has not shown itself +unselfish. This is true of the greengrocery, the bank, the department +store, the Cotton Exchange. Each of these has sent employees to the +front, and while they are away is paying their wages and, on the +chance of their return, holding their places open. Men who are not +accepted as recruits are enrolled as special constables. They are +those who could not, without facing ruin, neglect their business. They +have signed on as policemen, and each night for four hours patrol the +posts of the regular bobbies who have gone to the front. + +The ingenuity shown in finding ways in which to help the army is +equalled only by the enthusiasm with which these suggestions are +met. Just before his death at the front, Lord Roberts called upon all +racing-men, yachtsmen, and big-game shots to send him, for the use +of the officers in the field, their field-glasses. The response was +amazingly generous. + +Other people gave their pens. The men whose names are best +known to you in British literature are at the service of the government +and at this moment are writing exclusively for the Foreign Office. They +are engaged in answering the special pleading of the Germans and in +writing monographs, appeals for recruits, explanations of why +England is at war. They do not sign what they write. They are, of +course, not paid for what they write. They have their reward in +knowing that to direct public opinion fairly will be as effective in +bringing this war to a close as is sticking bayonets into Uhlans. + +The stage, as well as literature, has found many ways in which it can +serve the army. One theatre is giving all the money taken in at the +door to the Red Cross; all of them admit men in uniform free, or at +half price, and a long list of actors have gone to the front. Among +them are several who are well known in America. Robert Lorraine has +received an officer's commission in the Royal Flying Corps, and Guy +Standing in the navy. The former is reported among the wounded. +Gerald du Maurier has organized a reserve battalion of actors, artists, +and musicians. + +There is not a day passes that the most prominent members of the +theatrical world are not giving their services free to benefit +performances in aid of Belgian refugees, Red Cross societies, or to +some one of the funds under royal patronage. Whether their talent is +to act or dance, they are using it to help along the army. Seymour +Hicks and Edward Knoblauch in one week wrote a play called +"England Expects," which was an appeal in dramatic form for recruits, +and each night the play was produced recruits crowded over the +footlights. + +The old sergeants are needed to drill the new material and cannot be +spared for recruiting. And so members of Parliament and members of +the cabinet travel all over the United Kingdom--and certainly these +days it is united--on that service. Even the prime minister and the first +lord of the admiralty, Winston Churchill, work overtime in addressing +public meetings and making stirring appeals to the young men. And +wherever you go you see the young men by the thousands marching, +drilling, going through setting-up exercises. The public parks, golf- +links, even private parks like Bedford Square, are filled with them, and +in Green Park, facing the long beds of geraniums, are lines of cavalry +horses and the khaki tents of the troopers. + +Every one is helping. Each day the King and Queen and Princess +Mary review troops or visit the wounded in some hospital; and the day +before sailing, while passing Buckingham Palace, I watched the +young Prince of Wales change the guard. In a businesslike manner +he was listening to the sentries repeat their orders; and in turn a +young sergeant, also in a most businesslike manner, was in whispers +coaching the boy officer in the proper manner to guard the home of +his royal parents. Since then the young prince has gone to the front +and is fighting for his country. And the King is in France with his +soldiers. + +As the song says, all the heroes do not go to war, and the warriors at +the front are not the only ones this war has turned out-of-doors. The +number of Englishwomen who have left their homes that the Red +Cross may have the use of them for the wounded would fill a long roll +of honor. Some give an entire house, like Mrs. Waldorf Astor, who +has loaned to the wounded Cliveden, one of the best-known and +most beautiful places on the Thames. Others can give only a room. +But all over England the convalescents have been billeted in private +houses and made nobly welcome. + +Even the children of England are helping. The Boy Scouts, one of the +most remarkable developments of this decade, has in this war scored +a triumph of organization. This is equally true of the Boy Scouts in +Belgium and France. In England military duties of the most serious +nature have been intrusted to them. On the east coast they have +taken the place of the coast guards, and all over England they are +patrolling railroad junctions, guarding bridges, and carrying +despatches. Even if the young men who are now drilling in the parks +and the Boy Scouts never reach Berlin nor cross the Channel, the +training and sense of responsibility that they are now enjoying are all +for their future good. + +They are coming out of this war better men, not because they have +been taught the manual of arms, but in spite of that fact. What they +have learned is much more than that. Each of them has, for an ideal, +whether you call it a flag, or a king, or a geographical position on the +map, offered his life, and for that ideal has trained his body and +sacrificed his pleasures, and each of them is the better for it. And +when peace comes his country will be the richer and the more +powerful. + + + + +Chapter VIII +Our Diplomats In The War Zone + + + +When the war broke loose those persons in Europe it concerned the +least were the most upset about it. They were our fellow countrymen. +Even to-day, above the roar of shells, the crash of falling walls, forts, +forests, cathedrals, above the scream of shrapnel, the sobs of +widows and orphans, the cries of the wounded and dying, all over +Europe, you still can hear the shrieks of the Americans calling for their +lost suit-cases. + +For some of the American women caught by the war on the wrong +side of the Atlantic the situation was serious and distressing. There +were thousands of them travelling alone, chaperoned only by a man +from Cook's or a letter of credit. For years they had been saving to +make this trip, and had allowed themselves only sufficient money +after the trip was completed to pay the ship's stewards. Suddenly +they found themselves facing the difficulties of existence in a foreign +land without money, friends, or credit. During the first days of +mobilization they could not realize on their checks or letters. American +bank-notes and Bank of England notes were refused. Save gold, +nothing was of value, and every one who possessed a gold piece, +especially if he happened to be a banker, was clinging to it with the +desperation of a dope fiend clutching his last pill of cocaine. We can +imagine what it was like in Europe when we recall the conditions at +home. + +In New York, when I started for the seat of war, three banks in which +for years I had kept a modest balance refused me a hundred dollars +in gold, or a check, or a letter of credit. They simply put up the +shutters and crawled under the bed. So in Europe, where there +actually was war, the women tourists, with nothing but a worthless +letter of credit between them and sleeping in a park, had every +reason to be panic-stricken. But to explain the hysteria of the hundred +thousand other Americans is difficult--so difficult that while they live +they will still be explaining. The worst that could have happened to +them was temporary discomfort offset by adventures. Of those they +experienced they have not yet ceased boasting. + +On August 5th, one day after England declared war, the American +Government announced that it would send the Tennessee with a +cargo of gold. In Rome and in Paris Thomas Nelson Page and Myron +T. Herrick were assisting every American who applied to them, and +committees of Americans to care for their fellow countrymen had +been organized. All that was asked of the stranded Americans was to +keep cool and, like true sports, suffer inconvenience. Around them +were the French and English, facing the greatest tragedy of centuries, +and meeting it calmly and with noble self-sacrifice. The men were +marching to meet death, and in the streets, shops, and fields the +women were taking up the burden the men had dropped. And in the +Rue Scribe and in Cockspur Street thousands of Americans were +struggling in panic-stricken groups, bewailing the loss of a hat-box, +and protesting at having to return home second-class. Their suffering +was something terrible. In London, in the Ritz and Carlton +restaurants, American refugees, loaded down with fat pearls and +seated at tables loaded with fat food, besought your pity. The imperial +suite, which on the fast German liner was always reserved for them, +"except when Prince Henry was using it," was no longer available, +and they were subjected to the indignity of returning home on a nine- +day boat and in the captain's cabin. It made their blue blood boil; and +the thought that their emigrant ancestors had come over in the +steerage did not help a bit. + +The experiences of Judge Richard William Irwin, of the Superior +Court of Massachusetts, and his party, as related in the Paris Herald, +were heartrending. On leaving Switzerland for France they were +forced to carry their own luggage, all the porters apparently having +selfishly marched off to die for their country, and the train was not +lighted, nor did any one collect their tickets. "We have them yet!" says +Judge Irwin. He makes no complaint, he does not write to the Public- +Service Commission about it, but he states the fact. No one came to +collect his ticket, and he has it yet. Something should be done. Merely +because France is at war Judge Irwin should not be condemned to +go through life clinging to a first-class ticket. + +In another interview Judge George A. Carpenter, of the United States +Court of Chicago, takes a more cheerful view. "I can't see anything +for Americans to get hysterical about," he says. "They seem to think +their little delays and difficulties are more important than all the +troubles of Europe. For my part, I should think these people would be +glad to settle down in Paris." A wise judge! + +For the hysterical Americans it was fortunate that in the embassies +and consulates of the United States there were fellow country-men +who would not allow a war to rattle them. When the representatives of +other countries fled our people not only stayed on the job but held +down the jobs of those who were forced to move away. At no time in +many years have our diplomats and consuls appeared to such +advantage. They deserve so much credit that the administration will +undoubtedly try to borrow it. Mr. Bryan will point with pride and say: +"These men who bore themselves so well were my appointments." +Some of them were. But back of them, and coaching them, were first +and second secretaries and consuls-general and consuls who had +been long in the service and who knew the language, the short cuts, +and what ropes to pull. And they had also the assistance of every lost +and strayed, past and present American diplomat who, when the war +broke, was caught off his base. These were commandeered and put +to work, and volunteers of the American colonies were made +honorary attaches, and without pay toiled like fifteen-dollar-a-week +bookkeepers. + +In our embassy in Paris one of these latter had just finished struggling +with two American women. One would not go home by way of +England because she would not leave her Pomeranian in quarantine, +and the other because she could not carry with her twenty-two trunks. +They demanded to be sent back from Havre on a battle-ship. The +volunteer diplomat bowed. "Then I must refer you to our naval +attache, on the first floor," he said. "Any tickets for battle-ships must +come through him." + +I suggested he was having a hard time. + +"If we remained in Paris," he said, "we all had to help. It was a choice +between volunteering to aid Mr. Herrick at the embassy or Mrs. +Herrick at the American Ambulance Hospital and tending wounded +Turcos. But between soothing terrified Americans and washing +niggers, I'm sorry now I didn't choose the hospital." + +In Paris there were two embassies running overtime; that means from +early morning until after midnight, and each with a staff enlarged to +six times the usual number. At the residence of Mr. Herrick, in the +Rue Francois Ier, there was an impromptu staff composed chiefly of +young American bankers, lawyers, and business men. They were +men who inherited, or who earned, incomes of from twenty thousand +to fifty thousand a year, and all day, and every day, without pay, and +certainly without thanks, they assisted their bewildered, penniless, +and homesick fellow countrymen. Below them in the cellar was stored +part of the two million five hundred thousand dollars voted by +Congress to assist the stranded Americans. It was guarded by quick- +firing guns, loaned by the French War Office, and by six petty officers +from the Tennessee. With one of them I had been a shipmate when +the Utah sailed from Vera Cruz. I congratulated him on being in Paris. + +"They say Paris is some city," he assented, "but all I've seen of it is +this courtyard. Don't tell anybody, but, on the level, I'd rather be back +in Vera Cruz!" + +The work of distributing the money was carried on in the chancelleries +of the embassy in the Rue de Chaillot. It was entirely in the hands of +American army and navy officers, twenty of whom came over on the +warship with Assistant Secretary of War Breckinridge. Major Spencer +Cosby, the military attache of the embassy, was treasurer of the fund, +and every application for aid that had not already been investigated +by the civilian committee appointed by the ambassador was decided +upon by the officers. Mr. Herrick found them invaluable. He was +earnest in their praise. They all wanted to see the fighting; but in other +ways they served their country. + +As a kind of "king's messenger" they were sent to our other +embassies, to the French Government at Bordeaux, and in command +of expeditions to round up and convoy back to Paris stranded +Americans in Germany and Switzerland. Their training, their habit of +command and of thinking for others, their military titles helped them to +success. By the French they were given a free road, and they were +not only of great assistance to others, but what they saw of the war +and of the French army will be of lasting benefit to themselves. +Among them were officers of every branch of the army and navy and +of the marine and aviation corps. Their reports to the War +Department, if ever they are made public, will be mighty interesting +reading. + +The regular staff of the embassy was occupied not only with +Americans but with English, Germans, and Austrians. These latter +stood in a long line outside the embassy, herded by gendarmes. That +line never seemed to grow less. Myron T. Herrick, our ambassador, +was at the embassy from early in the morning until midnight. He was +always smiling, helpful, tactful, optimistic. Before the war came he +was already popular, and the manner in which he met the dark days, +when the Germans were within fifteen miles of Paris, made him +thousands of friends. He never asked any of his staff to work harder +than he worked himself, and he never knocked off and called it a +day's job before they did. Nothing seemed to worry or daunt him; +neither the departure of the other diplomats, when the government +moved to Bordeaux and he was left alone, nor the advancing +Germans and threatened siege of Paris, nor even falling bombs. + +Herrick was as democratic as he was efficient. For his exclusive use +there was a magnificent audience-chamber, full of tapestry, ormolu +brass, Sevres china, and sunshine. But of its grandeur the +ambassador would grow weary, and every quarter-hour he would +come out into the hall crowded with waiting English and Americans. +There, assisted by M. Charles, who is as invaluable to our +ambassadors to France as are Frank and Edward Hodson to our +ambassadors to London, he would hold an impromptu reception. It +was interesting to watch the ex-governor of Ohio clear that hall and +send everybody away smiling. Having talked to his ambassador +instead of to a secretary, each went off content. In the hall one +morning I found a noble lord of high degree chuckling with pleasure. + +"This is the difference between your ambassadors and ours," he said. +"An English ambassador won't let you in to see him; your American +ambassador comes out to see you." However true that may be, it was +extremely fortunate that when war came we should have had a man +at the storm-centre so admirably efficient. + +Our embassy was not embarrassed nor was it greatly helped by the +presence in Paris of two other American ambassadors: Mr. Sharp, +the ambassador-elect, and Mr. Robert Bacon, the ambassador that +was. That at such a crisis these gentlemen should have chosen to +come to Paris and remain there showed that for an ambassador tact +is not absolutely necessary. + +Mr. Herrick was exceedingly fortunate in his secretaries, Robert +Woods Bliss and Arthur H. Frazier. Their training in the diplomatic +service made them most valuable. With him, also, as a volunteer +counsellor, was H. Perceval Dodge, who, after serving in diplomatic +posts in six countries, was thrown out of the service by Mr. Bryan to +make room for a lawyer from Danville, Ky. Dodge was sent over to +assist in distributing the money voted by Congress, and Herrick, +knowing his record, signed him on to help him in the difficult task of +running the affairs of the embassies of four countries, three of which +were at war. Dodge, Bliss, and Frazier were able to care for these +embassies because, though young in years, in the diplomatic service +they have had training and experience. In this crisis they proved the +need of it. For the duties they were, and still are, called upon to +perform it is not enough that a man should have edited a democratic +newspaper or stumped the State for Bryan. A knowledge of +languages, of foreign countries, and of foreigners, their likes and their +prejudices, good manners, tact, and training may not, in the eyes of +the administration, seem necessary, but, in helping the ninety million +people in whose interest the diplomat is sent abroad, these +qualifications are not insignificant. + +One might say that Brand Whitlock, who is so splendidly holding the +fort at Brussels, in the very centre of the conflict, is not a trained +diplomat. But he started with an excellent knowledge of the French +language, and during the eight years in which he was mayor of +Toledo he must have learned something of diplomacy, responsibility, +and of the way to handle men--even German military governors. He +is, in fact, the right man in the right place. In Belgium all men, +Belgians, Americans, Germans, speak well of him. In one night he +shipped out of Brussels, in safety and comfort, five thousand +Germans; and when the German army advanced upon that city it was +largely due to him and to the Spanish minister, the Marquis Villalobar, +that Brussels did not meet the fate of Antwerp. He has a direct way of +going at things. One day, while the Belgian Government still was in +Brussels and Whitlock in charge of the German legation, the chief +justice called upon him. It was suspected, he said, that on the roof of +the German legation, concealed in the chimney, was a wireless outfit. +He came to suggest that the American minister, representing the +German interests, and the chief justice should appoint a joint +commission to investigate the truth of the rumor, to take the +testimony of witnesses, and make a report. + +"Wouldn't it be quicker," said Whitlock, "if you and I went up on the +roof and looked down the chimney?" + +The chief justice was surprised but delighted. Together they +clambered over the roof of the German legation. They found that the +wireless outfit was a rusty weather-vane that creaked. + +When the government moved to Antwerp Whitlock asked permission +to remain at the capital. He believed that in Brussels he could be of +greater service to both Americans and Belgians. And while diplomatic +corps moved from Antwerp to Ostend, and from Ostend to Havre, he +and Villalobar stuck to their posts. What followed showed Whitlock +was right. To-day from Brussels he is directing the efforts of the rest +of the world to save the people of that city and of Belgium from death +by starvation. In this he has the help of his wife, who was Miss Ella +Brainerd, of Springfield, 111, M. Gaston de Levai, a Belgian +gentleman, and Miss Caroline S. Larner, who was formerly a +secretary in the State Department, and who, when the war started, +was on a vacation in Belgium. She applied to Whitlock to aid her to +return home; instead, much to her delight, he made her one of the +legation staff. His right-hand man is Hugh C. Gibson, his first +secretary, a diplomat of experience. It is a pity that to the legation in +Brussels no military attache was accredited. He need not have gone +out to see the war; the war would have come to him. As it was, +Gibson saw more of actual warfare than did any or all of our twenty- +eight military men in Paris. It was his duty to pass frequently through +the firing-lines on his way to Antwerp and London. He was constantly +under fire. Three times his automobile was hit by bullets. These trips +were so hazardous that Whitlock urged that he should take them. It is +said he and his secretary used to toss for it. Gibson told me he was +disturbed by the signs the Germans placed between Brussels and +Antwerp, stating that "automobiles looking as though they were on +reconnoissance" would be fired upon. He asked how an automobile +looked when it was on reconnoissance. + +Gibson is one of the few men who, after years in the diplomatic +service, refuses to take himself seriously. He is always smiling, +cheerful, always amusing, but when the dignity of his official position +is threatened he can be serious enough. When he was charge +d'affaires in Havana a young Cuban journalist assaulted him. That +journalist is still in jail. In Brussels a German officer tried to +blue-pencil a cable Gibson was sending to the State Department. +Those who witnessed the incident say it was like a buzz-saw +cutting soft pine. + +When the present administration turned out the diplomats it spared +the consuls-general and consuls. It was fortunate for the State +Department that it showed this self-control, and fortunate for +thousands of Americans who, when the war-cloud burst, were +scattered all over Europe. Our consuls rose to the crisis and rounded +them up, supplied them with funds, special trains, and letters of +identification, and when they were arrested rescued them from jail. +Under fire from shells and during days of bombardment the American +consuls in France and Belgium remained at their posts and protected +the people of many nationalities confided to their care. Only one +showed the white feather. He first removed himself from his post, and +then was removed still farther from it by the State Department. All the +other American consuls of whom I heard in Belgium, France, and +England were covering themselves with glory and bringing credit to +their country. Nothing disturbed their calm, and at no hour could you +catch them idle or reluctant to help a fellow countryman. Their office +hours were from twelve to twelve, and each consulate had taken out +an all-night license and thrown away the key. With four other +Americans I was forced to rout one consul out of bed at two in the +morning. He was Colonel Albert W. Swalm, of Iowa, but of late years +our representative at Southampton. That port was in the military zone, +and before an American could leave it for Havre it was necessary that +his passport should be viseed in London by the French and Belgian +consuls-general and in Southampton by Colonel Swalm. We arrived +in Southampton at two in the morning to learn that the boat left at +four, and that unless, in the interval, we obtained the autograph and +seal of Colonel Swalm she would sail without us. + +In the darkness we set forth to seek our consul, and we found that, +difficult as it was to leave the docks by sea, it was just as difficult by +land. In war time two o'clock in the morning is no hour for honest men +to prowl around wharfs. So we were given to understand by very +wide-awake sentries with bayonets, policemen, and enthusiastic +special constables. But at last we reached the consulate and laid +siege. One man pressed the electric button, kicked the door, and +pounded with the knocker, others hurled pebbles at the upper +windows, and the fifth stood in the road and sang: "Oh, say, can you +see, by the dawn's early light?" + +A policeman arrested us for throwing stones at the consular sign. We +explained that we had hit the sign by accident while aiming at the +windows, and that in any case it was the inalienable right of +Americans, if they felt like it, to stone their consul's sign. He said he +always had understood we were a free people, but, "without meaning +any disrespect to you, sir, throwing stones at your consul's coat of +arms is almost, as you might say, sir, making too free." He then told +us Colonel Swalm lived in the suburbs, and in a taxicab started us +toward him. + +Scantily but decorously clad, Colonel Swalm received us, and +greeted us as courteously as though we had come to present him +with a loving-cup. He acted as though our pulling him out of bed at +two in the morning was intended as a compliment. For affixing the +seal to our passports he refused any fee. We protested that the +consuls-general of other nations were demanding fees. "I know," he +said, "but I have never thought it right to fine a man for being an +American." + +Of our ambassadors and representatives in countries in Europe other +than France and Belgium I have not written, because during this war I +have not visited those countries. But of them, also, all men speak +well. At the last election one of them was a candidate for the United +States Senate. He was not elected. The reason is obvious. + +Our people at home are so well pleased with their ambassadors in +Europe that, while the war continues, they would keep them where +they are. + + + + +Chapter IX +"Under Fire" + + + +One cold day on the Aisne, when the Germans had just withdrawn to +the east bank and the Allies held the west, the French soldiers built +huge bonfires and huddled around them. When the "Jack Johnsons," +as they call the six-inch howitzer shells that strike with a burst of black +smoke, began to fall, sooner than leave the warm fires the soldiers +accepted the chance of being hit by the shells. Their officers had to +order them back. I saw this and wrote of it. A friend refused to credit +it. He said it was against his experience. He did not believe that, for +the sake of keeping warm, men would chance being killed. + +But the incident was quite characteristic. In times of war you +constantly see men, and women, too, who, sooner than suffer +discomfort or even inconvenience, risk death. The psychology of the +thing is, I think, that a man knows very little about being dead but has +a very acute knowledge of what it is to be uncomfortable. His brain is +not able to grasp death but it is quite capable of informing him that his +fingers are cold. Often men receive credit for showing coolness and +courage in times of danger when, in reality, they are not properly +aware of the danger and through habit are acting automatically. The +girl in Chicago who went back into the Iroquois Theatre fire to rescue +her rubber overshoes was not a heroine. She merely lacked +imagination. Her mind was capable of appreciating how serious for +her would be the loss of her overshoes but not being burned alive. At +the battle of Velestinos, in the Greek-Turkish War, John F. Bass, of +The Chicago Daily News, and myself got into a trench at the foot of a +hill on which later the Greeks placed a battery. All day the Turks +bombarded this battery with a cross-fire of shrapnel and rifle-bullets +which did not touch our trench but cut off our return to Velestinos. +Sooner than pass through this crossfire, all day we crouched in the +trench until about sunset, when it came on to rain. We exclaimed with +dismay. We had neglected to bring our ponchos. "If we don't get back +to the village at once," we assured each other, "we will get wet!" So +we raced through half a mile of falling shells and bullets and, before +the rain fell, got under cover. Then Bass said: "For twelve hours we +stuck to that trench because we were afraid if we left it we would be +killed. And the only reason we ever did leave it was because we were +more afraid of catching cold!" + +In the same war I was in a trench with some infantrymen, one of +whom never raised his head. Whenever he was ordered to fire he +would shove his rifle-barrel over the edge of the trench, shut his eyes, +and pull the trigger. He took no chances. His comrades laughed at +him and swore at him, but he would only grin sheepishly and burrow +deeper. After several hours a friend in another trench held up a bag +of tobacco and some cigarette-papers and in pantomime "dared" him +to come for them. To the intense surprise of every one he scrambled +out of our trench and, exposed against the sky-line, walked to the +other trench and, while he rolled a handful of cigarettes, drew the fire +of the enemy. It was not that he was brave; he had shown that he +was not. He was merely stupid. Between death and cigarettes, his +mind could not rise above cigarettes. + +Why the same kind of people are so differently affected by danger is +very hard to understand. It is almost impossible to get a line on it. I +was in the city of Rheims for three days and two nights while it was +being bombarded. During that time fifty thousand people remained in +the city and, so far as the shells permitted, continued about their +business. The other fifty thousand fled from the city and camped out +along the road to Paris. For five miles outside Rheims they lined both +edges of that road like people waiting for a circus parade. With them +they brought rugs, blankets, and loaves of bread, and from daybreak +until night fell and the shells ceased to fall they sat in the hay-fields +and along the grass gutters of the road. Some of them were most +intelligent-looking and had the manner and clothes of the rich. There +was one family of five that on four different occasions on our way to +and from Paris we saw seated on the ground at a place certainly five +miles away from any spot where a shell had fallen. They were all in +deep mourning, but as they sat in the hay-field around a wicker tea +basket and wrapped in steamer-rugs they were comic. Their lives +were no more valuable than those of thousands of their fellow +townsfolk who in Rheims were carrying on the daily routine. These +kept the shops open or in the streets were assisting the Red Cross. + +One elderly gentleman told me how he had been seized by the +Germans as a hostage and threatened with death by hanging. With +forty other first citizens, from the 4th to the 12th of September he had +been in jail. After such an experience one would have thought that +between himself and the Germans he would have placed as many +miles as possible, but instead he was strolling around the Place du +Parvis Notre-Dame, in front of the cathedral. For the French officers +who, on sightseeing bent, were motoring into Rheims from the battle +line he was acting as a sort of guide. Pointing with his umbrella, he +would say: "On the left is the new Palace of Justice, the facade +entirely destroyed; on the right you see the palace of the archbishop, +completely wrecked. The shells that just passed over us have +apparently fallen in the garden of the Hotel Lion d'Or." He was as cool +as the conductor on a "Seeing Rheims" observation-car. + +He was matched in coolness by our consul, William Bardel. The +American consulate is at No. 14 Rue Kellermann. That morning a +shell had hit the chestnut-tree in the garden of his neighbor, at No. +12, and had knocked all the chestnuts into the garden of the +consulate. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Mr. Bardel. + +In the bombarded city there was no rule as to how any one would act. +One house would be closed and barred, and the inmates would be +either in their own cellar or in the caves of the nearest champagne +company. To those latter they would bring books or playing-cards +and, among millions of dust-covered bottles, by candle-light, would +wait for the guns to cease. Their neighbors sat in their shops or stood +at the doors of their houses or paraded the streets. Past them their +friends were hastening, trembling with terror. Many women sat on the +front steps, knitting, and with interested eyes watched their +acquaintances fleeing toward the Paris gate. When overhead a shell +passed they would stroll, still knitting, out into the middle of the street +to see where the shell struck. + +By the noise it was quite easy to follow the flight of the shells. You +were tricked by the sound into almost believing you could see them. +The six-inch shells passed with a whistling roar that was quite +terrifying. It was as though just above you invisible telegraph-wires +had jangled, and their rush through the air was like the roar that rises +to the car window when two express-trains going in opposite +directions pass at sixty miles an hour. When these sounds assailed +them the people flying from the city would scream. Some of them, as +though they had been hit, would fall on their knees. Others were +sobbing and praying aloud. The tears rolled down their cheeks. In +their terror there was nothing ludicrous; they were in as great physical +pain as were some of the hundreds in Rheims who had been hit. And +yet others of their fellow townsmen living in the same street, and with +the same allotment of brains and nerves, were treating the +bombardment with the indifference they would show to a summer +shower. + +We had not expected to spend the night in Rheims, so, with +Ashmead Bartlett, the military expert of the London Daily Telegraph, I +went into a chemist's shop to buy some soap. The chemist, seeing I +was an American, became very much excited. He was overstocked +with an American shaving-soap, and he begged me to take it off his +hands. He would let me have it at what it cost him. He did not know +where he had placed it, and he was in great alarm lest we would +leave his shop before he could unload it on us. From both sides of +the town French artillery were firing in salvoes, the shocks shaking +the air; over the shop of the chemist shrapnel was whining, and in the +street the howitzer shells were opening up subways. But his mind +was intent only on finding that American shaving-soap. I was anxious +to get on to a more peaceful neighborhood. To French soap, to soap +"made in Germany," to neutral American soap I was indifferent. Had it +not been for the presence of Ashmead Bartlett I would have fled. To +die, even though clasping a cake of American soap, seemed less +attractive than to live unwashed. But the chemist had no time to +consider shells. He was intent only on getting rid of surplus stock. + +The majority of people who are afraid are those who refuse to +consider the doctrine of chances. The chances of their being hit may +be one in ten thousand, but they disregard the odds in their favor and +fix their minds on that one chance against them. In their imagination it +grows larger and larger. It looms red and bloodshot, it hovers over +them; wherever they go it follows, menacing, threatening, filling them +with terror. In Rheims there were one hundred thousand people, and +by shells one thousand were killed or wounded. The chances against +were a hundred to one. Those who left the city undoubtedly thought +the odds were not good enough. + +Those who on account of the bombs that fell from the German +aeroplanes into Paris left that city had no such excuse. The chance of +any one person being hit by a bomb was one in several millions. But +even with such generous odds in their favor, during the days the +bomb-dropping lasted many thousands fled. They were obsessed by +that one chance against them. In my hotel in Paris my landlady had +her mind fixed on that one chance, and regularly every afternoon +when the aeroplanes were expected she would go to bed. Just as +regularly her husband would take a pair of opera-glasses and in the +Rue de la Paix hopefully scan the sky. + +One afternoon while we waited in front of Cook's an aeroplane sailed +overhead, but so far above us that no one knew whether it was a +French air-ship scouting or a German one preparing to launch a +bomb. A man from Cook's, one of the interpreters, with a horrible +knowledge of English, said: "Taube or not Taube; that is the +question." He was told he was inviting a worse death than from a +bomb. To illustrate the attitude of mind of the Parisian, there is the +story of the street gamin who for some time, from the Garden of the +Tuileries, had been watching a German aeroplane threatening the +city. Finally, he exclaimed impatiently: + +"Oh, throw your bomb! You are keeping me from my dinner." + +A soldier under fire furnishes few of the surprises of conduct to which +the civilian treats you. The soldier has no choice. He is tied by the leg, +and whether the chances are even or ridiculously in his favor he must +accept them. The civilian can always say, "This is no place for me," +and get up and walk away. But the soldier cannot say that. He and +his officers, the Red Cross nurses, doctors, ambulance-bearers, and +even the correspondents have taken some kind of oath or signed +some kind of contract that makes it easier for them than for the +civilian to stay on the job. For them to go away would require more +courage than to remain. + +Indeed, although courage is so highly regarded, it seems to be of all +virtues the most common. In six wars, among men of nearly every +race, color, religion, and training, I have seen but four men who failed +to show courage. I have seen men who were scared, sometimes +whole regiments, but they still fought on; and that is the highest +courage, for they were fighting both a real enemy and an imaginary +one. + +There is a story of a certain politician general of our army who, under +a brisk fire, turned on one of his staff and cried: + +"Why, major, you are scared, sir; you are scared!" + +"I am," said the major, with his teeth chattering, "and if you were as +scared as I am you'd be twenty miles in the rear." + +In this war the onslaughts have been so terrific and so unceasing, the +artillery fire especially has been so entirely beyond human +experience, that the men fight in a kind of daze. Instead of arousing +fear the tumult acts as an anaesthetic. With forests uprooted, houses +smashing about them, and unseen express-trains hurtling through +space, they are too stunned to be afraid. And in time they become +fed up on battles and to the noise and danger grow callous. On the +Aisne I saw an artillery battle that stretched for fifteen miles. Both +banks of the river were wrapped in smoke; from the shells villages +miles away were in flames, and two hundred yards in front of us the +howitzer shells were bursting in black fumes. To this the French +soldiers were completely indifferent. The hills they occupied had been +held that morning by the Germans, and the trenches and fields were +strewn with their accoutrement. So all the French soldiers who were +not serving the guns wandered about seeking souvenirs. They had +never a glance for the villages burning crimson in the bright sunight or +for the falling "Jack Johnsons." + +They were intent only on finding a spiked helmet, and when they +came upon one they would give a shout of triumph and hold it up for +their comrades to see. And their comrades would laugh delightedly +and race toward them, stumbling over the furrows. They were as +happy and eager as children picking wild flowers. + +It is not good for troops to sup entirely on horrors and also to +breakfast and lunch on them. So after in the trenches one regiment +has been pounded it is withdrawn for a day or two and kept in +reserve. The English Tommies spend this period of recuperating in +playing football and cards. When the English learned this they +forwarded so many thousands of packs of cards to the distributing +depot that the War Office had to request them not to send any more. +When the English officers are granted leave of absence they do not +waste their energy on football, but motor into Paris for a bath and +lunch. At eight they leave the trenches along the Aisne and by noon +arrive at Maxim's, Voisin's, or La Rue's. Seldom does warfare present +a sharper contrast. From a breakfast of "bully" beef, eaten from a tin +plate, with in their nostrils the smell of camp-fires, dead horses, and +unwashed bodies, they find themselves seated on red velvet +cushions, surrounded by mirrors and walls of white and gold, and +spread before them the most immaculate silver, linen, and glass. And +the odors that assail them are those of truffles, white wine, and +"artechant sauce mousseline." + +It is a delight to hear them talk. The point of view of the English is so +sane and fair. In risking their legs or arms, or life itself, they see +nothing heroic, dramatic, or extraordinary. They talk of the war as +they would of a cricket-match or a day in the hunting-field. If things +are going wrong they do not whine or blame, nor when fortune smiles +are they unduly jubilant. And they are so appallingly honest and frank. +A piece of shrapnel had broken the arm of one of them, and we were +helping him to cut up his food and pour out his Scotch and soda. +Instead of making a hero or a martyr of himself, he said confidingly: +"You know, I had no right to be hit. If I had been minding my own +business I wouldn't have been hit. But Jimmie was having a hell of a +time on top of a hill, and I just ran up to have a look in. And the +beggars got me. Served me jolly well right. What?" + +I met one subaltern at La Rue's who had been given so many +commissions by his brother officers to bring back tobacco, soap, and +underclothes that all his money save five francs was gone. He still +had two days' leave of absence, and, as he truly pointed out, in Paris +even in war time five francs will not carry you far. I offered to be his +banker, but he said he would first try elsewhere. The next day I met +him on the boulevards and asked what kind of a riotous existence he +found possible on five francs. + +"I've had the most extraordinary luck," he said. "After I left you I met +my brother. He was just in from the front, and I got all his money." + +"Won't your brother need it?" I asked. + +"Not at all," said the subaltern cheerfully. "He's shot in the legs, and +they've put him to bed. Rotten luck for him, you might say, but how +lucky for me!" + +Had he been the brother who was shot in both legs he would have +treated the matter just as light-heartedly. + +One English major, before he reached his own firing-line, was hit by a +bursting shell in three places. While he was lying in the American +ambulance hospital at Neuilly the doctor said to him: + +"This cot next to yours is the only one vacant. Would you object if we +put a German in it?" + +"By no means," said the major; "I haven't seen one yet." + +The stories the English officers told us at La Rue's and Maxim's by +contrast with the surroundings were all the more grewsome. Seeing +them there it did not seem possible that in a few hours these same fit, +sun-tanned youths in khaki would be back in the trenches, or +scouting in advance of them, or that only the day before they had +been dodging death and destroying their fellow men. + +Maxim's, which now reminds one only of the last act of "The Merry +Widow," was the meeting-place for the French and English officers +from the front; the American military attaches from our embassy, +among whom were soldiers, sailors, aviators, marines; the doctors +and volunteer nurses from the American ambulance, and the +correspondents who by night dined in Paris and by day dodged arrest +and other things on the firing-line, or as near it as they could motor +without going to jail. For these Maxim's was the clearing-house for +news of friends and battles. Where once were the supper-girls and +the ladies of the gold-mesh vanity-bags now were only men in red +and blue uniforms, men in khaki, men in bandages. Among them +were English lords and French princes with titles that dated from +Agincourt to Waterloo, where their ancestors had met as enemies. +Now those who had succeeded them, as allies, were, over a sole +Marguery, discussing air-ships, armored automobiles, and +mitrailleuses. + +At one table Arthur H. Frazier, of the American embassy, would be +telling an English officer that a captain of his regiment who was +supposed to have been killed at Courtrai had, like a homing pigeon, +found his way to the hospital at Neuilly and wanted to be reported +"safe" at Lloyds. At another table a French lieutenant would describe +a raid made by the son of an American banker in Paris who is in +command of an armed automobile. "He swept his gun only once--so," +the Frenchman explained, waving his arm across the champagne +and the broiled lobster, "and he caught a general and two staff- +officers. He cut them in half." Or at another table you would listen to a +group of English officers talking in wonder of the Germans' wasteful +advance in solid formation. + +"They were piled so high," one of them relates, "that I stopped firing. +They looked like gray worms squirming about in a bait-box. I can +shoot men coming at me on their feet, but not a mess of arms and +legs." + +"I know," assents another; "when we charged the other day we had to +advance over the Germans that fell the night before, and my men +were slipping and stumbling all over the place. The bodies didn't give +them any foothold." + +"My sergeant yesterday," another relates, "turned to me and said: 'It +isn't cricket. There's no game in shooting into a target as big as that. +It's just murder.' I had to order him to continue firing." + +They tell of it without pose or emotion. It is all in the day's work. Most +of them are young men of wealth, of ancient family, cleanly bred +gentlemen of England, and as they nod and leave the restaurant we +know that in three hours, wrapped in a greatcoat, each will be +sleeping in the earth trenches, and that the next morning the shells +will wake him. + + + + +Chapter X +The Waste of War + + + +In this war, more than in other campaigns, the wastefulness is +apparent. In other wars, what to the man at home was most +distressing was the destruction of life. He measured the importance +of the conflict by the daily lists of killed and wounded. But in those +wars, except human life, there was little else to destroy. The war in +South Africa was fought among hills of stone, across vacant stretches +of prairie. Not even trees were destroyed, because there were no +trees. In the district over which the armies passed there were not +enough trees to supply the men with fire-wood. In Manchuria, with the +Japanese, we marched for miles without seeing even a mud village, +and the approaches to Port Arthur were as desolate as our Black +Hills. The Italian-Turkish War was fought in the sands of a desert, and +in the Balkan War few had heard of the cities bombarded until they +read they were in flames. But this war is being waged in that part of +the world best known to the rest of the world. + +Every summer hundreds of thousands of Americans, on business or +on pleasure bent, travelled to the places that now daily are being +taken or retaken or are in ruins. At school they had read of these +places in their history books and later had visited them. In +consequence, in this war they have a personal and an intelligent +interest. It is as though of what is being destroyed they were part +owners. + +Toward Europe they are as absentee landlords. It was their pleasure- +ground and their market. And now that it is being laid low the utter +wastefulness of war is brought closer to this generation than ever +before. Loss of life in war has not been considered entirely wasted, +because the self-sacrifice involved ennobled it. And the men who +went out to war knew what they might lose. Neither when, in the +pursuits of peace, human life is sacrificed is it counted as wasted. +The pioneers who were killed by the Indians or who starved to death +in what then were deserts helped to carry civilization from the Atlantic +to the Pacific. Only ten years ago men were killed in learning to +control the "horseless wagons," and now sixty-horsepower cars are +driven by women and young girls. Later the air-ship took its toll of +human life. Nor, in view of the possibilities of the air-ships in the +future, can it be said those lives were wasted. But, except life, there +was no other waste. To perfect the automobile and the air-ship no +women were driven from home and the homes destroyed. No +churches were bombarded. Men in this country who after many years +had built up a trade in Europe were not forced to close their mills and +turn into the streets hundreds of working men and women. + +It is in the by-products of the war that the waste, cruelty, and stupidity +of war are most apparent. It is the most innocent who suffer and +those who have the least offended who are the most severely +punished. The German Emperor wanted a place in the sun, and, +having decided that the right moment to seize it had arrived, declared +war. As a direct result, Mary Kelly, a telephone girl at the Wistaria +Hotel, in New York, is looking for work. It sounds like an O. Henry +story, but, except for the name of the girl and the hotel, it is not +fiction. She told me about it one day on my return to New York, +on Broadway. + +"I'm looking for work," she said, "and I thought if you remembered me +you might give me a reference. I used to work at Sherry's and at the +Wistaria Hotel. But I lost my job through the war." How the war in +Europe could strike at a telephone girl in New York was puzzling; but +Mary Kelly made it clear. "The Wistaria is very popular with +Southerners," she explained, "They make their money in cotton and +blow it in New York. But now they can't sell their cotton, and so they +have no money, and so they can't come to New York. And the hotel +is run at a loss, and the proprietor discharged me and the other girl, +and the bellboys are tending the switchboard. I've been a month +trying to get work. But everybody gives me the same answer. They're +cutting down the staff on account of the war. I've walked thirty miles a +day looking for a job, and I'm nearly all in. How long do you think this +war will last?" This telephone girl looking for work is a tiny by-product +of war. She is only one instance of efficiency gone to waste. + +The reader can think of a hundred other instances. In his own life he +can show where in his pleasures, his business, in his plans for the +future the war has struck at him and has caused him inconvenience, +loss, or suffering. He can then appreciate how much greater are the +loss and suffering to those who live within the zone of fire. In Belgium +and France the vacant spaces are very few, and the shells fall among +cities and villages lying so close together that they seem to touch +hands. For hundreds of years the land has been cultivated, the fields, +gardens, orchards tilled and lovingly cared for. The roads date back +to the days of Caesar. The stone farmhouses, as well as the stone +churches, were built to endure. And for centuries, until this war came, +they had endured. After the battle of Waterloo some of these stone +farmhouses found themselves famous. In them Napoleon or +Wellington had spread his maps or set up his cot, and until this war +the farmhouses of Mont-Saint-Jean, of Caillou, of Haie-Sainte, of the +Belle-Alliance remained as they were on the day of the great battle a +hundred years ago. They have received no special care, the +elements have not spared them nor caretakers guarded them. They +still were used as dwellings, and it was only when you recognized +them by having seen them on the post-cards that you distinguished +them from thousands of other houses, just as old and just as well +preserved, that stretched from Brussels to Liege. + +But a hundred years after this war those other houses will not be +shown on picture post-cards. King Albert and his staff may have +spent the night in them, but the next day Von Kluck and his army +passed, and those houses that had stood for three hundred years +were destroyed. In the papers you have seen many pictures of the +shattered roofs and the streets piled high with fallen walls and lined +with gaping cellars over which once houses stood. The walls can be +rebuilt, but what was wasted and which cannot be rebuilt are the +labor, the saving, the sacrifices that made those houses not mere +walls but homes. A house may be built in a year or rented overnight; it +takes longer than that to make it a home. The farmers and peasants +in Belgium had spent many hours of many days in keeping their +homes beautiful, in making their farms self-supporting. After the work +of the day was finished they had planted gardens, had reared fruit- +trees, built arbors; under them at mealtime they sat surrounded by +those of their own household. To buy the horse and the cow they had +pinched and saved; to make the gardens beautiful and the fields +fertile they had sweated and slaved, the women as well as the men; +even the watch-dog by day was a beast of burden. + +When, in August, I reached Belgium between Brussels and Liege, the +whole countryside showed the labor of these peasants. Unlike the +American farmer, they were too poor to buy machines to work for +them, and with scythes and sickles in hand they cut the grain; with +heavy flails they beat it. All that you saw on either side of the road that +was fertile and beautiful was the result of their hard, unceasing +personal effort. Then the war came, like a cyclone, and in three +weeks the labor of many years was wasted. The fields were torn with +shells, the grain was in flames, torches destroyed the villages, by the +roadside were the carcasses of the cows that had been killed to feed +the invader, and the horses were carried off harnessed to gray gun- +carriages. These were the things you saw on every side, from +Brussels to the German border. The peasants themselves were +huddled beneath bridges. They were like vast camps of gypsies, +except that, less fortunate than the gypsy, they had lost what he +neither possesses nor desires, a home. As the enemy advanced the +inhabitants of one village would fly for shelter to the next, only by the +shells to be whipped farther forward; and so, each hour growing in +number, the refugees fled toward Brussels and the coast. They were +an army of tramps, of women and children tramps, sleeping in the +open fields, beneath the hayricks seeking shelter from the rain, living +on the raw turnips and carrots they had plucked from the deserted +vegetable gardens. The peasants were not the only ones who +suffered. The rich and the noble-born were as unhappy and as +homeless. They had credit, and in the banks they had money, but +they could not get at the money; and when a chateau and a +farmhouse are in flames, between them there is little choice. + +Three hours after midnight on the day the Germans began their three +days' march through Brussels I had crossed the Square Rogier to +send a despatch by one of the many last trains for Ostend. When I +returned to the Palace Hotel, seated on the iron chairs on the +sidewalk were a woman, her three children, and two maid servants. +The woman was in mourning, which was quite new, for, though the +war was only a month old, many had been killed, among them her +husband. The day before, at Tirlemont, shells had destroyed her +chateau, and she was on her way to England. She had around her +neck two long strings of pearls, the maids each held a small hand- +bag, her boy clasped in his arms a forlorn and sleepy fox-terrier, and +each of the little girls was embracing a bird-cage. In one was a +canary, in the other a parrot. That was all they had saved. In their way +they were just as pathetic as the peasants sleeping under the +hedges. They were just as homeless, friendless, just as much in +need of food and sleep, and in their eyes was the same look of fear +and horror. Bernhardi tells his countrymen that war is glorious, heroic, +and for a nation an economic necessity. Instead, it is stupid, +unintelligent. It creates nothing; it only wastes. + +If it confined itself to destroying forts and cradles of barbed wire then +it would be sufficiently hideous. But it strikes blindly, brutally; it +tramples on the innocent and the beautiful. It is the bull in the china +shop and the mad dog who snaps at children who are trying only +to avoid him. People were incensed at the destruction in Louvain +of the library, the Catholic college, the Church of St. Pierre that dated +from the thirteenth century. These buildings belonged to the world, +and over their loss the world was rightfully indignant, but in Louvain +there were also shops and manufactories, hotels and private houses. +Each belonged, not to the world, but to one family. These individual +families made up a city of forty-five thousand people. In two days +there was not a roof left to cover one of them. The trade those people +had built up had been destroyed, the "good-will and fixings," the +stock on the shelves and in the storerooms, the goods in the +shop-windows, the portraits in the drawing-room, the souvenirs and +family heirlooms, the love-letters, the bride's veil, the baby's first +worsted shoes, and the will by which some one bequeathed to his +beloved wife all his worldly goods. + +War came and sent all these possessions, including the will and the +worldly goods, up into the air in flames. Most of the people of Louvain +made their living by manufacturing church ornaments and brewing +beer. War was impartial, and destroyed both the beer and the church +ornaments. It destroyed also the men who made them, and it drove +the women and children into concentration camps. When first I visited +Louvain it was a brisk, clean, prosperous city. The streets were +spotless, the shop-windows and cafes were modern, rich-looking, +inviting, and her great churches and Hotel de Ville gave to the city +grace and dignity. Ten days later, when I again saw it, Louvain was in +darkness, lit only by burning buildings. Rows and rows of streets were +lined with black, empty walls. Louvain was a city of the past, another +Pompeii, and her citizens were being led out to be shot. The fate of +Louvain was the fate of Vise, of Malines, of Tirlemont, of Liege, of +hundreds of villages and towns, and by the time this is printed it will +be the fate of hundreds of other towns over all of Europe. In this war +the waste of horses is appalling. Those that first entered Brussels with +the German army had been bred and trained for the purposes of war, +and they were magnificent specimens. Every one who saw them +exclaimed ungrudgingly in admiration. But by the time the army +reached the approaches of Paris the forced marches had so depleted +the stock of horses that for remounts the Germans were seizing all +they met. Those that could not keep up were shot. For miles along +the road from Meaux to Soissons and Rheims their bodies tainted the +air. + +They had served their purposes, and after six weeks of campaigning +the same animals that in times of peace would have proved faithful +servants for many years were destroyed that they might not fall into +the hands of the French. Just as an artillery-man spikes his gun, the +Germans on their retreat to the Aisne River left in their wake no horse +that might assist in their pursuit. As they withdrew they searched each +stable yard and killed the horses. In village after village I saw horses +lying in the stalls or in the fields still wearing the harness of the +plough, or in groups of three or four in the yard of a barn, each with a +bullet-hole in its temple. They were killed for fear they might be useful. + +Waste can go no further. Another example of waste were the motor- +trucks and automobiles. When the war began the motor-trucks of the +big department stores and manufacturers and motor-buses of +London, Paris, and Berlin were taken over by the different armies. +They had cost them from two thousand to three thousand dollars +each, and in times of peace, had they been used for the purposes for +which they were built, would several times over have paid for +themselves. But war gave them no time to pay even for their tires. +You saw them by the roadside, cast aside like empty cigarette-boxes. +A few hours' tinkering would have set them right. They were still good +for years of service. But an army in retreat or in pursuit has no time to +waste in repairing motors. To waste the motor is cheaper. + +Between Villers-Cotterets and Soissons the road was strewn with +high-power automobiles and motor-trucks that the Germans had +been forced to destroy. Something had gone wrong, something that +at other times could easily have been mended. But with the French in +pursuit there was no time to pause, nor could cars of such value be +left to the enemy. So they had been set on fire or blown up, or +allowed to drive head-on into a stone wall or over an embankment. +From the road above we could see them in the field below, lying like +giant turtles on their backs. In one place in the forest of Villers was a +line of fifteen trucks, each capable of carrying five tons. The gasolene +to feed them had become exhausted, and the whole fifteen had been +set on fire. In war this is necessary, but it was none the less waste. +When an army takes the field it must consider first its own safety; and +to embarrass the enemy everything else must be sacrificed. It cannot +consider the feelings or pockets of railroad or telegraph companies. It +cannot hesitate to destroy a bridge because that bridge cost five +hundred thousand dollars. And it does not hesitate. + +Motoring from Paris to the front these days is a question of avoiding +roads rendered useless because a broken bridge has cut them in +half. All over France are these bridges of iron, of splendid masonry, +some decorated with statues, some dating back hundreds of years, +but now with a span blown out or entirely destroyed and sprawling in +the river. All of these material things--motor-cars, stone bridges, +railroad-tracks, telegraph-lines--can be replaced. Money can restore +them. But money cannot restore the noble trees of France and +Belgium, eighty years old or more, that shaded the roads, that made +beautiful the parks and forests. For military purposes they have been +cut down or by artillery fire shattered into splinters. They will again +grow, but eighty years is a long time to wait. + +Nor can money replace the greatest waste of all--the waste in "killed, +wounded, and missing." The waste of human life in this war is so +enormous, so far beyond our daily experience, that disasters less +appalling are much easier to understand. The loss of three people in +an automobile accident comes nearer home than the fact that at the +battle of Sezanne thirty thousand men were killed. Few of us are +trained to think of men in such numbers--certainly not of dead men in +such numbers. We have seen thirty thousand men together only +during the world's series or at the championship football matches. To +get an idea of the waste of this war we must imagine all of the +spectators at a football match between Yale and Harvard suddenly +stricken dead. We must think of all the wives, children, friends +affected by the loss of those thirty thousand, and we must multiply +those thirty thousand by hundreds, and imagine these hundreds of +thousands lying dead in Belgium, in Alsace-Lorraine, and within ten +miles of Paris. After the Germans were repulsed at Meaux and at +Sezanne the dead of both armies were so many that they lay +intermingled in layers three and four deep. They were buried in long +pits and piled on top of each other like cigars in a box. Lines of fresh +earth so long that you mistook them for trenches intended to conceal +regiments were in reality graves. Some bodies lay for days uncovered +until they had lost all human semblance. They were so many you +ceased to regard them even as corpses. They had become just a +part of the waste, a part of the shattered walls, uprooted trees, and +fields ploughed by shells. What once had been your fellow men were +only bundles of clothes, swollen and shapeless, like scarecrows +stuffed with rags, polluting the air. + +The wounded were hardly less pitiful. They were so many and so +thickly did they fall that the ambulance service at first was not +sufficient to handle them. They lay in the fields or forests sometimes +for a day before they were picked up, suffering unthinkable agony. +And after they were placed in cars and started back toward Paris the +tortures continued. Some of the trains of wounded that arrived +outside the city had not been opened in two days. The wounded had +been without food or water. They had not been able to move from the +positions in which in torment they had thrown themselves. The foul air +had produced gangrene. And when the cars were opened the stench +was so fearful that the Red Cross people fell back as though from a +blow. For the wounded Paris is full of hospitals--French, English, and +American. And the hospitals are full of splendid men. Each one once +had been physically fit or he would not have been passed to the front; +and those among them who are officers are finely bred, finely +educated, or they would not be officers. But each matched his good +health, his good breeding, and knowledge against a broken piece of +shell or steel bullet, and the shell or bullet won. They always will win. +Stephen Crane called a wound "the red badge of courage." It is all of +that. And the man who wears that badge has all my admiration. But I +cannot help feeling also the waste of it. I would have a standing army +for the same excellent reason that I insure my house; but, except in +self-defence, no war. For war--and I have seen a lot of it--is waste. +And waste is unintelligent. + + + + +Chapter XI +War Correspondents + + + +The attitude of the newspaper reader toward the war correspondent +who tries to supply him with war news has always puzzled me. + +One might be pardoned for suggesting that their interests are the +same. If the correspondent is successful, the better service he +renders the reader. The more he is permitted to see at the front, the +more news he is allowed to cable home, the better satisfied should be +the man who follows the war through the "extras." + +But what happens is the reverse of that. Never is the "constant +reader" so delighted as when the war correspondent gets the worst of +it. It is the one sure laugh. The longer he is kept at the base, the more +he is bottled up, "deleted," censored, and made prisoner, the greater +is the delight of the man at home. He thinks the joke is on the war +correspondent. I think it is on the "constant reader." If, at breakfast, +the correspondent fails to supply the morning paper with news, the +reader claims the joke is on the news-gatherer. But if the milkman +fails to leave the milk, and the baker the rolls, is the joke on the +milkman and the baker or is it on the "constant reader"? Which goes +hungry? + +The explanation of the attitude of the "constant reader" to the +reporters seems to be that he regards the correspondent as a prying +busybody, as a sort of spy, and when he is snubbed and suppressed +he feels he is properly punished. Perhaps the reader also resents the +fact that while the correspondent goes abroad, he stops at home and +receives the news at second hand. Possibly he envies the man who +has a front seat and who tells him about it. And if you envy a man, +when that man comes to grief it is only human nature to laugh. + +You have seen unhappy small boys outside a baseball park, and one +happy boy inside on the highest seat of the grand stand, who calls +down to them why the people are yelling and who has struck out. Do +the boys on the ground love the boy in the grand stand and are they +grateful to him? No. + +Does the fact that they do not love him and are not grateful to him for +telling them the news distress the boy in the grand stand? No. For no +matter how closely he is bottled up, how strictly censored, "deleted," +arrested, searched, and persecuted, as between the man at home +and the correspondent, the correspondent will always be the more +fortunate. He is watching the march of great events, he is studying +history in the making, and all he sees is of interest. Were it not of +interest he would not have been sent to report it. He watches men +acting under the stress of all the great emotions. He sees them +inspired by noble courage, pity, the spirit of self-sacrifice, of loyalty, +and pride of race and country. + +In Cuba I saw Captain Robb Church of our army win the Medal of +Honor, in South Africa I saw Captain Towse of the Scot Greys win his +Victoria Cross. Those of us who watched him knew he had won it just +as surely as you know when a runner crosses the home plate and +scores. Can the man at home from the crook play or the home run +obtain a thrill that can compare with the sight of a man offering up his +life that other men may live? + +When I returned to New York every second man I knew greeted me +sympathetically with: "So, you had to come home, hey? They wouldn't +let you see a thing." And if I had time I told him all I saw was the +German, French, Belgian, and English armies in the field, Belgium in +ruins and flames, the Germans sacking Louvain, in the Dover Straits +dreadnoughts, cruisers, torpedo destroyers, submarines, +hydroplanes; in Paris bombs falling from air-ships and a city put to +bed at 9 o'clock; battle-fields covered with dead men; fifteen miles of +artillery firing across the Aisne at fifteen miles of artillery; the +bombardment of Rheims, with shells lifting the roofs as easily as you +would lift the cover of a chafing-dish and digging holes in the streets, +and the cathedral on fire; I saw hundreds of thousands of soldiers +from India, Senegal, Morocco, Ireland, Australia, Algiers, Bavaria, +Prussia, Scotland, saw them at the front in action, saw them +marching over the whole northern half of Europe, saw them wounded +and helpless, saw thousands of women and children sleeping under +hedges and haystacks with on every side of them their homes blazing +in flames or crashing in ruins. That was a part of what I saw. What +during the same two months did the man at home see? If he were +lucky he saw the Braves win the world's series, or the Vernon Castles +dance the fox trot. + +The war correspondents who were sent to this war knew it was to +sound their death-knell. They knew that because the newspapers that +had no correspondents at the front told them so; because the +General Staff of each army told them so; because every man they +met who stayed at home told them so. Instead of taking their death- +blow lying down they went out to meet it. In other wars as rivals they +had fought to get the news; in this war they were fighting for their +professional existence, for their ancient right to stand on the firing- +line, to report the facts, to try to describe the indescribable. If their +death-knell sounded they certainly did not hear it. If they were licked +they did not know it. In the twenty-five years in which I have followed +wars, in no other war have I seen the war correspondents so well +prove their right to march with armies. The happy days when they +were guests of the army, when news was served to them by the men +who made the news, when Archibald Forbes and Frank Millet shared +the same mess with the future Czar of Russia, when MacGahan slept +in the tent with Skobeleff and Kipling rode with Roberts, have passed. +Now, with every army the correspondent is as popular as a floating +mine, as welcome as the man dropping bombs from an air-ship. The +hand of every one is against him. "Keep out! This means you!" is the +way they greet him. Added to the dangers and difficulties they must +overcome in any campaign, which are only what give the game its +flavor, they are now hunted, harassed, and imprisoned. But the new +conditions do not halt them. They, too, are fighting for their place in +the sun. I know one man whose name in this war has been signed to +despatches as brilliant and as numerous as those of any +correspondent, but which for obvious reasons is not given here. He +was arrested by one army, kept four days in a cell, and then warned if +he was again found within the lines of that army he would go to jail for +six months; one month later he was once more arrested, and told if +he again came near the front he would go to prison for two years. +Two weeks later he was back at the front. Such a story causes the +teeth of all the members of the General Staff to gnash with fury. You +can hear them exclaiming: "If we caught that man we would treat him +as a spy." And so unintelligent are they on the question of +correspondents that they probably would. + +When Orville Wright hid himself in South Carolina to perfect his flying- +machine he objected to what he called the "spying" of the +correspondents. One of them rebuked him. "You have discovered +something," he said, "in which the whole civilized world is interested. +If it is true you have made it possible for man to fly, that discovery is +more important than your personal wishes. Your secret is too +valuable for you to keep to yourself. We are not spies. We are +civilization demanding to know if you have something that more +concerns the whole world than it can possibly concern you." + +As applied to war, that point of view is equally just. The army calls for +your father, husband, son--calls for your money. It enters upon a war +that destroys your peace of mind, wrecks your business, kills the men +of your family, the man you were going to marry, the son you brought +into the world. And to you the army says: "This is our war. We will +fight it in our own way, and of it you can learn only what we choose to +tell you. We will not let you know whether your country is winning the +fight or is in danger, whether we have blundered and the soldiers are +starving, whether they gave their lives gloriously or through our lack +of preparation or inefficiency are dying of neglected wounds." And if +you answer that you will send with the army men to write letters home +and tell you, not the plans for the future and the secrets of the army, +but what are already accomplished facts, the army makes reply: "No, +those men cannot be trusted. They are spies." + +Not for one moment does the army honestly think those men are +spies. But it is the excuse nearest at hand. It is the easiest way out of +a situation every army, save our own, has failed to treat with +intelligence. Every army knows that there are men to-day acting, or +anxious to act, as war correspondents who can be trusted absolutely, +whose loyalty and discretion are above question, who no more would +rob their army of a military secret than they would rob a till. If the army +does not know that, it is unintelligent. That is the only crime I impute +to any general staff--lack of intelligence. + +When Captain Granville Fortescue, of the Hearst syndicate, told the +French general that his word as a war correspondent was as good as +that of any general in any army he was indiscreet, but he was merely +stating a fact. The answer of the French general was to put him in +prison. That was not an intelligent answer. + +The last time I was arrested was at Romigny, by General Asebert. I +had on me a three-thousand-word story, written that morning in +Rheims, telling of the wanton destruction of the cathedral. I asked the +General Staff, for their own good, to let the story go through. It stated +only facts which I believed were they known to civilized people would +cause them to protest against a repetition of such outrages. To get +the story on the wire I made to Lieutenant Lucien Frechet and Major +Klotz, of the General Staff, a sporting offer. For every word of my +despatch they censored I offered to give them for the Red Cross of +France five francs. That was an easy way for them to subscribe to the +French wounded three thousand dollars. To release his story Gerald +Morgan, of the London Daily Telegraph, made them the same offer. It +was a perfectly safe offer for Gerald to make, because a great part of +his story was an essay on Gothic architecture. Their answer was to +put both of us in the Cherche-Midi prison. The next day the censor +read my story and said to Lieutenant Frechet and Major Klotz: "But I +insist this goes at once. It should have been sent twenty-four hours +ago." + +Than the courtesy of the French officers nothing could have been +more correct, but I submit that when you earnestly wish to help a man +to have him constantly put you in prison is confusing. It was all very +well to dissemble your love. But why did you kick me down-stairs? + +There was the case of Luigi Barzini. In Italy Barzini is the D'Annunzio +of newspaper writers. Of all Italian journalists he is the best known. +On September 18, at Romigny, General Asebert arrested Barzini, and +for four days kept him in a cow stable. Except what he begged from +the gendarmes, he had no food, and he slept on straw. When I saw +him at the headquarters of the General Staff under arrest I told them +who he was, and that were I in their place I would let him see all there +was to see, and let him, as he wished, write to his people of the +excellence of the French army and of the inevitable success of the +Allies. With Italy balancing on the fence and needing very little urging +to cause her to join her fortunes with France, to choose that moment +to put Italian journalists in a cow yard struck me as dull. + +In this war the foreign offices of the different governments have been +willing to allow correspondents to accompany the army. They know +that there are other ways of killing a man than by hitting him with a +piece of shrapnel. One way is to tell the truth about him. In this entire +war nothing hit Germany so hard a blow as the publicity given to a +certain remark about a scrap of paper. But from the government the +army would not tolerate any interference. It said: "Do you want us to +run this war or do you want to run it?" Each army of the Allies treated +its own government much as Walter Camp would treat the Yale +faculty if it tried to tell him who should play right tackle. + +As a result of the ban put upon the correspondents by the armies, the +English and a few American newspapers, instead of sending into the +field one accredited representative, gave their credentials to a dozen. +These men had no other credentials. The letter each received stating +that he represented a newspaper worked both ways. When arrested +it helped to save him from being shot as a spy, and it was almost sure +to lead him to jail. The only way we could hope to win out was through +the good nature of an officer or his ignorance of the rules. Many +officers did not know that at the front correspondents were prohibited. + +As in the old days of former wars we would occasionally come upon +an officer who was glad to see some one from the base who could tell +him the news and carry back from the front messages to his friends +and family. He knew we could not carry away from him any +information of value to the enemy, because he had none to give. In a +battle front extending one hundred miles he knew only his own tiny +unit. On the Aisne a general told me the shrapnel smoke we saw two +miles away on his right came from the English artillery, and that on his +left five miles distant were the Canadians. At that exact moment the +English were at Havre and the Canadians were in Montreal. + +In order to keep at the front, or near it, we were forced to make use of +every kind of trick and expedient. An English officer who was acting +as a correspondent, and with whom for several weeks I shared the +same automobile, had no credentials except an order permitting him +to pass the policemen at the British War Office. With this he made his +way over half of France. In the corner of the pass was the seal or +coat of arms of the War Office. When a sentry halted him he would, +with great care and with an air of confidence, unfold this permit, and +with a proud smile point at the red seal. The sentry, who could not +read English, would invariably salute the coat of arms of his ally, and +wave us forward. + +That we were with allied armies instead of with one was a great help. +We would play one against the other. When a French officer halted +us we would not show him a French pass but a Belgian one, or one in +English, and out of courtesy to his ally he would permit us to proceed. +But our greatest asset always was a newspaper. After a man has +been in a dirt trench for two weeks, absolutely cut off from the entire +world, and when that entire world is at war, for a newspaper he will +give his shoes and his blanket. + +The Paris papers were printed on a single sheet and would pack as +close as bank-notes. We never left Paris without several hundred of +them, but lest we might be mobbed we showed only one. It was the +duty of one of us to hold this paper in readiness. The man who was to +show the pass sat by the window. Of all our worthless passes our rule +was always to show first the one of least value. If that failed we +brought out a higher card, and continued until we had reached the +ace. If that proved to be a two-spot, we all went to jail. Whenever we +were halted, invariably there was the knowing individual who +recognized us as newspaper men, and in order to save his country +from destruction clamored to have us hung. It was for this pest that +the one with the newspaper lay in wait. And the instant the pest +opened his lips our man in reserve would shove the Figaro at him. +"Have you seen this morning's paper?" he would ask sweetly. It +never failed us. The suspicious one would grab at the paper as a dog +snatches at a bone, and our chauffeur, trained to our team-work, +would shoot forward. + +When after hundreds of delays we did reach the firing-line, we always +announced we were on our way back to Paris and would convey +there postal cards and letters. If you were anxious to stop in any one +place this was an excellent excuse. For at once every officer and +soldier began writing to the loved ones at home, and while they wrote +you knew you would not be molested and were safe to look at the +fighting. + +It was most wearing, irritating, nerve-racking work. You knew you +were on the level. In spite of the General Staff you believed you had a +right to be where you were. You knew you had no wish to pry into +military secrets; you knew that toward the allied armies you felt only +admiration--that you wanted only to help. But no one else knew that; +or cared. Every hundred yards you were halted, cross-examined, +searched, put through a third degree. It was senseless, silly, and +humiliating. Only a professional crook with his thumb-prints and +photograph in every station-house can appreciate how from minute to +minute we lived. Under such conditions work is difficult. It does not +make for efficiency to know that any man you meet is privileged to +touch you on the shoulder and send you to prison. + +This is a world war, and my contention is that the world has a right to +know, not what is going to happen next, but at least what has +happened. If men have died nobly, if women and children have +cruelly and needlessly suffered, if for no military necessity and without +reason cities have been wrecked, the world should know that. + +Those who are carrying on this war behind a curtain, who have +enforced this conspiracy of silence, tell you that in their good time the +truth will be known. It will not. If you doubt this, read the accounts of +this war sent out from the Yser by the official "eye-witness" or +"observer" of the English General Staff. Compare his amiable gossip +in early Victorian phrases with the story of the same battle by Percival +Phillips; with the descriptions of the fall of Antwerp by Arthur Ruhl, and +the retreat to the Marne by Robert Dunn. Some men are trained to +fight, and others are trained to write. The latter can tell you of what +they have seen so that you, safe at home at the breakfast table, also +can see it. Any newspaper correspondent would rather send his +paper news than a descriptive story. But news lasts only until you +have told it to the next man, and if in this war the correspondent is not +to be permitted to send the news I submit he should at least be +permitted to tell what has happened in the past. This war is a world +enterprise, and in it every man, woman, and child is an interested +stockholder. They have a right to know what is going forward. The +directors' meetings should not be held in secret. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE ALLIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 11730.txt or 11730.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/7/3/11730 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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