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diff --git a/23533-h/23533-h.htm b/23533-h/23533-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc7bdf2 --- /dev/null +++ b/23533-h/23533-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2924 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A War-time Journal, by Harriet Jephson + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + + h1, h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + h2 {text-align: center; + clear: both; + padding-top: 2em; + padding-bottom: 1em;} + + h3 {text-align: center; + clear: both; + padding-top: 2em; + padding-bottom: 1em;} + + hr {width: 20%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + height: 1px; + border: 0; + background-color: black; + color: black;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + td.pageno {text-align: right; + padding-left: 4em; + line-height: 150%;} + + td.indent {text-indent: 2em;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + p.entry { margin-top: 2em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + + p.publisher { + margin-top: 8em; + text-align: center; + font-size: smaller; + margin-bottom: 3em; + text-indent: 0em; + } + + p.printer {margin-top: 2em; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em;} + + div.note { + margin: 4em 10% 0 10%; + padding: 1em; + border: 1px dashed black; + color: inherit; + background-color: #F0F8FF; + font-size: smaller; + } + + img + {border-style: none; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + + ins.correction { + text-decoration:none; /* replace default underline.. */ + border-bottom: thin dotted red; /* ..with delicate red line */} + + sup { vertical-align: baseline; + font-size: 90%; + position: relative; + top: -.4em; } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + right: 1%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + } /* page numbers */ + + a:link { + text-decoration: none; + color: #104E8B; + background-color: inherit; + } + a:visited { + text-decoration: none; + color: #8B0000; + background-color: inherit; + } + a:hover { + text-decoration: underline; + } + a:active { + text-decoration: underline; + } + .center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} + .right {position: absolute; right: 10%;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {text-indent: 0em; + text-align: center; + font-size: 80%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dotted 1px; + padding-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 2em;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: smaller;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor { vertical-align: baseline; + font-size: 80%; + position: relative; + top: -.4em; } + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 18em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A War-time Journal, Germany 1914 and German +Travel Notes, by Harriet Julia Jephson + +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: A War-time Journal, Germany 1914 and German Travel Notes + +Author: Harriet Julia Jephson + +Release Date: November 18, 2007 [EBook #23533] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WAR-TIME JOURNAL, GERMANY *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1><span style="font-size: 70%">A</span><br /> + +WAR-TIME JOURNAL<br /> + +<span style="font-size: 70%">GERMANY 1914</span><br /> + +<span style="font-size: 50%">AND</span><br /> + +<span style="font-size: 70%">GERMAN TRAVEL NOTES</span></h1> + +<p class="center" style="text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 4em; font-weight: bold"><small>BY</small><br /> + +<span style="font-size: 120%">LADY JEPHSON</span></p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 80%; text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">Author of 'A Canadian Scrap-Book' and<br /> +'Letters to a Débutante'</span></p> + +<p class="publisher">LONDON<br /> +<big>ELKIN MATHEWS, CORK STREET</big><br /> +M CM XV</p> + + +<p class="figcenter"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a><a href="images/i004.jpg"><img src="images/i004_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + +<p class="caption">ENGLISCHE KRIEGSFÜHRUNG<br /> + +(<i>How the Englishman makes war.</i>)</p> + +<!--[Blank Page]--> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Prefaces</span> are rarely read, yet I have the hardihood +to venture on this one because there are certain +things in connection with my journal which it is +necessary to explain. On returning from Germany, +although urged by my friends to publish the story +of my experiences, I refused, fearing to do anything +which in the smallest degree might prejudice the +case of those still in captivity. There came a +day, nevertheless, when I read that all English +people had left "Altheim." The papers announced +that men under forty-five had been interned at +Ruhleben, and those over that age had been sent +to Giessen. There seemed, therefore, no possible +object in further withholding the journal, since, after +all, there was nothing in it which could by any +possibility affect the fate of others less fortunate +than I. Accordingly I sent my manuscript to the +<i>Evening Standard</i>, which accepted it, and published +the first couple of pages. Then, in deference to +the wishes of people whose relations were still at +"Altheim" (having been sent back from Giessen), +I stopped my diary. However, in view of the +daily revelations in the Press as regards prisoners +in Germany, I have come, after seven months, to +the conclusion that nothing I can say will in any +degree make the condition of prisoners there worse. +Meanwhile it is of supreme interest to compare the +opinions and conduct of Germans at the beginning +of the war with what they express and observe now. +My journal is simply a record made each day of my +detention, and although it has no pretension to +being literature, it is at least a truthful picture of +the state of things as we in Altheim saw them +at the beginning of the war. For obvious reasons +the place of detention has been given a fictitious +name.</p> + +<p> +<span style="float: right; padding-right: 1.5em;" class="smcap">Harriet J. Jephson.</span><br style="clear: both" /> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table> +<tr><td> </td><td class="pageno"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A War-Time Journal</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">German Travel Notes:</span></td><td class="pageno"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent"><span class="smcap">"Takin' Notes"</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent"><span class="smcap">Of some Fellow Travellers and the Cathedral of Mainz</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent"><span class="smcap">Schlangenbad</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent"><span class="smcap">Liebenstein</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent"><span class="smcap">Trèves</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<table> +<tr><td> </td><td class="pageno"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Englische Kriegsführung</span><br /><span style="padding-left: 2em">(<i>How the Englishman makes war.</i>)</span></td><td class="pageno"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">England findet Hilfstruppen</span><br /><span style="padding-left: 2em">(<i>England finds troops to help her.</i>)</span></td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent">I. <span class="smcap">In Kanada</span><br /><span style="padding-left: 4em">(<i>Behold the German idea of a Canadian.</i>)</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent">II. <span class="smcap">In Polynesien</span><br /><span style="padding-left: 4em">(<i>The German idea of an Australian.</i>)</span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="indent">III. <span class="smcap">Nur in London Nicht</span><br /><span style="padding-left: 4em"><i>But not in London!</i></span></td><td class="pageno"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center"><i>These illustrations are reproduced from German newspapers.</i></p> + +<!--[Blank Page]--> + + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_WAR-TIME_JOURNAL" id="A_WAR-TIME_JOURNAL"></a>A WAR-TIME JOURNAL:<br /> + +GERMANY, 1914</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Villa Buchholz, Altheim</span>, <i>August 1st.</i>—Last night +a herald went round the town and roused everyone, +blowing his trumpet and crying, "Kommen Sie +heraus! Kommen Sie alle fort!" This was a call +to the reservists, all of whom are leaving Altheim. +To-day the crowd cheered madly, sang "Heil Dir +im Sieger Kranz," and "Deutschland über alles," +showing the utmost enthusiasm. To my horror, I +find that the banks here refuse foreign cheques, and +will have nothing to do with letters of credit. I +have very little ready money with me, and the +situation is not a pleasant one!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 2nd.</i>—Germany has declared war +against Russia! All men old enough to serve are +leaving to join the army. Proclamations are posted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +up in the Park Strasse, and crowds are standing in +tense anxiety in groups, discussing matters with +grave faces. We don't know how to get away, +since all trains are to be used only for the troops +while "mobilmachung" is going on. People have +got as far as the frontier and been turned back +there, and some who left Altheim yesterday are +still at Frankfort. I tried to buy an English paper +in the town, and was told that none were to be had +until England had made up her mind what she was +going to do! We think of motor-cars to the +frontier, or the Rhine boat.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 3rd.</i>—Alas! all steamers on the Rhine +are stopped and motor-cars are impossible, because +an order has come out that petroleum is to be +reserved for the Government. I made another +attempt to cash a cheque to-day, and again the +bank refused. A Russian who stood beside me +was desperate. He spoke execrable French, and +cried excitedly: "Comment donc! je ne puis pas +quitter le pays et j'ai une famille et trois femmes!" +Poor Bluebeard! his "trois femmes" (wife and +daughters) looked terrified and miserable. Our +position is incredible and most serious. Still, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +cannot but admire the glorious spirit of sacrifice and +patriotism which animates all classes of the German +people. Just what it was in the war of 1813, when +women even cut off their hair and sold it to help +their country.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 4th.</i>—Troops are marching through the +streets and leaving for the Front all day long. +The ladies of Altheim go to the station as the +trains pass through, and give the soldiers coffee, +chocolate, cigars, and zwiebacks. They get much +gratitude, and the men say (poor deluded mortals): +"Wir kriegen für Sie" (We fight for you). I saw +poor Frau G—— (my doctor's wife) to-day. She +was quite calm, but looked miserable. Her eldest +son, Dr. T——, left for the front this morning. I +sympathised, and she said, choking back a sob: +"Man gibt das beste für das Vaterland" (one gives +one's best for the Fatherland). No letters come, +nor papers; and we are only allowed to send postcards +written in German.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 5th.</i>—Our baker has gone to the war, +and Dr. G—— 's butler; the schools have shut up, +so many masters having been called upon to fight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +Even learned professors turn soldiers in this +country, and most of the weedy cabhorses here +have left Altheim to serve their "Fatherland." +My Bade-Frau's husband has gone to the front, +and so has our Apotheke; there are no porters left +at the station, and a jeweller is doing duty as +station-master! The Red Cross Society meet +daily, and make preparations for the care of +wounded men. Hospitals, private houses, and +doctors' houses are getting ready, and all motors +have been put at the State's disposal. Insane +hatred against Russia exists, and the Russians here +are not enjoying themselves! My position is most +serious: no money, and no return ticket!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 6th.</i>—I went out early in quest of news, +and looked in at K—— and L——'s. A young +clerk, pale with excitement and anger, in reply to +my question: "Gibt es etwas neues?" literally +hissed at me: "England hat Krieg erklärt" +(England has declared war). It was an awful +moment, although one was prepared for it in a +measure, feeling sure that England would be faithful +to her bond.</p> + +<p>Next came the Press announcements, "Das<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +unglaubliche ist Tatsache geworden" (The unbelievable +is become an accomplished fact). "England, +who poses as the guardian of morality and all the +virtues, sides with Russia and assassins!" Abuse +of Sir Edward Grey, of our Government, and of all +things English, follows. When vituperation fails, +the "Frankfurter Zeitung" reminds its readers +that, after all, such conduct is only what may be +expected from "Die historische Perfide Albions." +That it is a blow none the less is shown by more +than one newspaper beginning "Das Schlimmste +ist geschehen." (The worst has happened.) +Miss M——, Miss H——, and I went to the +"Prince of Wales's Hotel" to see Mr. S——, +who had made out a list of the English in Altheim, +and tried to telephone to our Consul in Frankfort +to ask what he was going to do for our rescue. The +telephone people refused to send the message +because we were English! Mr. S—— and other +men here are doing all they can to secure a train +when the mobilisation is over. He advised us to +pack up and be ready to start, also not to show +ourselves out of doors much, as there is the greatest +fury and indignation at present against the English, +and to be careful what we said and did. We are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +all terribly anxious, and it is rather trying for me, as +I am the only woman in the place quite alone.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 7th.</i>—Still no help! Innumerable wild +rumours are flying about. They say that those who +left Altheim have all come back, unable to get +farther than Frankfort. We are beginning to feel +hopeless. Nothing about England is in the German +papers, and, of course, we see no others. It is +quite terrible being without news. Last night there +was great scrubbing and scraping of Altheim shop +windows, and all the notices: "English spoken +here" have disappeared.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span><a href="images/i017.jpg"><img src="images/i017_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + +<p class="caption">IN KANADA<br /> + +(<i>Behold the German idea of a Canadian</i>)</p> + +<p>There is a mania about spies in Frankfort, we +hear, and some Americans yesterday were very +roughly handled because their motor bore a French +maker's name. The Americans have returned to +Altheim, and their motor has been taken to fight +for the Fatherland! Our situation is dreadful, but +we are keeping up brave hearts. Every day a +fresh "Bekanntmachung" (notice) appears; that of +to-day was addressed to the children and called +upon them to gather in the harvest, the workers +having gone as soldiers and turned their "pruning +hooks" into swords. My postcards written in +German have all come back. One cannot communicate +with anyone outside Altheim. What a position! +God in His mercy help us! It seems so +strange to see German troops marching to the tune +of "God Save the King," yet it is Germany's +National Anthem too, and these are the words +they sing to it:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Heil Dir im Sieger Kranz,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Herrscher des Vaterlands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Heil Kaiser Dir!" etc.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p>A "Warnung" has now been affixed to trees in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +the Avenue forbidding Russians, English, French +or Belgians to go within 100 metres of the station. +The Russians are being hardly used, but so far +Germans are quite nice to us. Mrs. N—— tells me +a gruesome tale of a Russian lady who left her hotel +for Russia smiling, well dressed, and happy. At +Giessen all Russians were turned out of the train +and put into a waiting-room, and locked up there +without any convenience of food, drink, or beds for +the night. The following morning they were told +to come out and soldiers marched them several +miles into the country to a farm-house. Some of +the poor creatures were faint from want of food, and +others had heart disease, and fell exhausted in the +road, the soldiers prodding them with their bayonets +to make them get up! After several hours' detention +there, they were brought back to Altheim, +where the poor lady arrived a pitiable wreck! +What an experience! I have been packed up for +days!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 8th.</i>—I went into the Park Strasse this +morning to buy a "Frankfurter Zeitung." Outside +the shop where I bought it some American women<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +stood gazing at a map of the war, and one said: +"I am <i>disgusted</i> with England, just disgusted. So +degrading of her to help a country like Russia, and +side with assassins, just degrading! All we +Americans despise her now." I thought to myself: +"If I go to prison for it, I will not allow anyone to +call my country 'degraded and disgusting.'" So I +said, trembling with wrath, "There is nothing +'degrading' in being honourable, nor despicable in +keeping true to your word. England promised to +protect Belgium's frontier, and she is bound to +do it."</p> + +<p>Several Germans were gathered round the map, +and they scowled at me until I faced them calmly +and said: "Jeder man für sein Land" (Every +man for his country), and they answered quite +civilly: "Gewiss!" (Certainly). The Americans +in Altheim, I found afterwards, were chiefly of +German extraction, which accounted for the +woman's behaviour.</p> + +<p>Early this morning three men arrived to search +my room for weapons. I was in bed, but they pushed +past the maid Käthchen, forced their way in, pried +into every corner, and departed. Emile the housemaid +here has <i>four</i> brothers at the war. Dreadful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +rumours are flying about as to our destination. +One day we hear we are to go to Denmark, another +to Holland. Sometimes we are told that we shall +not be allowed to leave Germany until the war is +over; again that we shall be sent away at a +moment's notice; that we shall be left at the +frontier, and have to walk for six hours, and carry +our own luggage, etc.</p> + +<p>The German papers are perfectly horrible in +their violent abuse of England, and we are so +miserably anxious, not about ourselves, but about +our dear, dear country, and how she is faring. +Käthchen said this morning, "Die deutschen in +Ausland sind sehr schlecht behandelt" (Germans +abroad are very badly treated). "See how well +the foreigners are treated <i>here</i>," by way of impressing +upon me how thankful I ought to be for my +mercies.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 9th.</i>—No papers! No news! No +letters! No money! All of us are more or less +packed up ready to start. We are warned that no +heavy luggage can go with us, and are limited to +two small "hand Gepäck," which we can carry +ourselves. I have presented my best hats to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +Käthchen, and it consoles me to think how comical +she will look under them!—but "flying canvas" is +the order of the day.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 10th.</i>—The "Frankfurter Zeitung" +calls England "ehrlos" (dishonourable), and the +Belgian frontier question "only an excuse," and +even kind, good Dr. G—— raged against England. +One is sick with longing to hear how the war gets +on from the English point of view. The papers +here never allude to England's movements—only to +her moral delinquencies. I am so poverty-stricken +now I wash my own pocket-handkerchiefs, guimpes, +and blouses!</p> + +<p>The American part of our community have quite +recovered their spirits since money has come for +them. The United States is making every effort to +rescue her people, and get them back in safety to +America. No one seems to concern themselves +about us, and we can't get away while mobilising +is going on. All Germans show the greatest +deference to Americans, and call them "our +honoured guests." We, of course, are the <i>dis</i>honoured +ones, and in disgrace!</p> + +<p>Altheim people so far are passably civil to us,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +but sometimes one has a disagreeable person to deal +with, as I had to-day at the Bad Haus. The girl +who stamps our tickets refused to pass mine until I +could show her my Kur Karte. I had none, and +told her so, and asked her why I should pay twenty +marks for a card, when I could not get any of the +privileges to which it entitled me: the band, +terrace, reading-room, and so on. Her answer was +a persistent dogged reiteration of "Sie müssen eine +Kur Karte haben, sonst können Sie nicht baden," +and not having twenty marks in the world at +present I had to come away without my bath. +Every day there are fresh appeals to the patriotism +of the people. They are pasted on walls, windows, +and even trees.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 12th.</i>—Such an amusing thing has +happened. Mr. S—— said to Dr. ——, "We +English have captured your Kronprinzessin Cecilie," +without saying that he meant the <i>ship</i>, and not the +<i>lady</i>. As the Government keeps all such disagreeable +intelligence dark, it was news to the doctor, +and he stoutly contradicted it, and went round the +town afterwards telling people: "Just think what +liars the English are; they say they have captured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +our Crown Princess!" We learnt of this prize-taking +from the "Corriere della Sera."</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 13th.</i>—The newspapers are full of +German victories and abuse of England. Also +they declare that the most terrible atrocities have +taken place in Belgium, where women have despatched +wounded Germans on the field and shot +doctors. The indignation is tremendous.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 14th.</i>—Permission has at last been given +for "Fremden" (foreigners) to depart, and also the +threats and restrictions as to the railway station +have been removed, but we must submit our passports +to the police, who send them to Berlin to be +stamped by the military authorities, and in about a +week we shall be free. "Gott sei Dank!"</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 15th.</i>—I went to the Polizei-Amt, a +dreary little house, and found both yard and staircase +crammed with people. After waiting a long +time in the <i>queue</i> I had to beat a retreat, the neighbourhood +of Polish Jews being too overpowering! +In the afternoon I ventured again with the same +result. They say Holland is crammed with +refugees, and the hotels so full that people are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +sleeping on billiard tables even. We are allowed +to choose between Switzerland and Holland.</p> + +<p>German papers express deepest disappointment +that Italy has not been "ehrlich" (honourable) to +her "Dreibund," and yet (extraordinary people) the +Germans blame us for being true to ours.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 16th.</i>—I sent a telegram off to Ems +this morning, of course written in German, but the +official behind the little window where I handed it +in refused to send it until I showed him my passport. +As I have not yet succeeded in getting +through the crowds at the police station I still had +mine. We hear dreadful tales of hardships endured +by those who have managed to get away from other +places. Some went by the Rhine steamers, which +are now running, but wherever they passed a +fortress they were made to go below. As the +cabins were not enough for all, preference was given +to other nationalities, and English people had to +sit up all night on deck, even in pouring rain. The +entire absence of news is for us quite terrible. One +feels so out of the world, not knowing what is +happening outside our prison doors. The "Frankfurter +Zeitung" is full of nothing but boasts and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +untruths. A fresh "Bekanntmachung" has been +posted up forbidding us to leave the town, and +ordering us to be indoors by nine o'clock.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 17th.</i>—The Landsturm has been called +out and leaves to-day for the Front. These men +are the last to be requisitioned, being elderly.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +After long waiting among Jews, Infidels, and +Turks, I at last got entrance to the Chief of Police's +office, had my passport taken, paid one mark fifty, +and was told to come back on Thursday, when it +would be returned from Berlin. The Chief was a +gruff, disagreeable old man, who, to my amiable +"Guten Tag" and "Adieu" vouchsafed no reply.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This we were told at the time.</p></div> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 18th.</i>—A dreadful blow! We English +are forbidden to go to Holland, and told that our +destination is to be Denmark. Imagine crossing +that mined sea now! For reasons of their own +German authorities will not allow any of us to go +by or near the Rhine.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 19th.</i>—The German Press is to me a +revelation of bombast, self-righteousness, falsehood, +and hypocrisy. What shocks one most is the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>familiar and perpetual calling upon God to witness +that He alone has led the Germans to victory and +blessed their cause. I read a poem yesterday, +which began "Du Gott der Deutschen," as if +indeed the Deity were the especial property of the +German Nation! Massacre, pillage, destruction, +violation of territory, everything wicked God is supposed +to bless! What hideously distorted minds, +and where is the sane, if prosaic Teuton of one's +imaginings! I wake often in the morning and +wonder if all that has happened here has not been a +horrible nightmare—if it can be possible in the +twentieth century that I, a woman, am a prisoner, +and for no sin that one has committed. I cannot +order an Einspänner and drive to the station +without a challenge and danger. I cannot possibly +get away without my passport. If I attempted to +drive to the Rhine my fate might be that of the +poor Russians who were shot the other day. In any +case I could not leave Germany without my passport +nor enter Dutch territory without permission +from the Netherlands Consul at Frankfort. It +seems all hopeless and heartbreaking.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 20th.</i>—Another terrific blow! Fraulein<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +S—— came into my room this morning and said: +"Kein Engländer, kein Ausländer, kann Deutschland +verlassen" (no Englishman, no foreigner can +leave Germany). I rushed off immediately to the +Polizei Amt and found it only too terribly true. +Worse! Mr. W—— and Mr. S——, who tried to +arrange for a steamer on the Rhine to take us away, +have been arrested, and are being tried on a +trumped-up charge of <i>forgery</i>, and the Company +who were the go-betweens demand 3,000 marks +because the boat came a certain distance down +the river in order to embark us.</p> + +<p>(<i>Later</i>) The Englishmen have been acquitted of +forgery, but we fear we shall have to pay the £120. +I have one mark left!</p> + +<p>There is jubilation all over the town as the +Germans have taken Belfort. Käthchen enters +triumphantly. "Unter Führung des Kronprinzen +von Bayern haben Truppen gestern in Schlachten +zwischen Metz und den Vogesen noch einen Sieg +erkämpft," and she goes on with the weary old +story of "viele tausend Gefangene" (many +thousand prisoners).</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 21st.</i>—I found that charming old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +American friends of mine, the W——s, were here, +and I went to see them at the Grand Hotel. They +have been to a Nach Kur in Thuringia, and have +had most alarming and unpleasant adventures +coming back. However, being American their +pains and penalties are nearly over. A special +train is to take them and their compatriots to the +Hague on Wednesday next. They go to the flesh-pots +of Egypt, and we are left to eat manna in the +wilderness! They can drive in the country, while +we poor Britishers may not go outside the town, +and oh! how sick we are of the avenues and streets +of the red-roofed Bath Houses and shop windows +whose contents we know by heart. Mr. W—— told +me a good tale of the <i>chef</i> of a Hotel here, who +was obliged to obey his country's call and join the +French forces. When he found German bullets +whizzing about him at Mülhausen, he said to +himself (so the story goes), "What is my duty? +Is it best for me to let these cursed Germans make +an end of me, or live to cook another day for my +country?" He decided that living was his game, +threw his rifle away, lay flat on his face, and let +the bullets whistle over him. He was taken +prisoner to his great relief, and now lies in Frankfort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +prison where his German brother chef has +visited him! The French of course are a brave +nation, but I daresay the poor cook was more at +home with his pots and pans than with bayonets +and rifles!</p> + +<p>No papers! no letters! no news! no chance of +escape! Two men were put in prison yesterday for +laughing at Germany. Two Russians were stopped +in a motor car, and when arms were found upon +them they were put up against a wall and shot.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 22nd.</i>—Altheim has gone mad with joy +over the victory near Metz. Church bells chime +and German children sing "Deutschland über +Alles" <i>ad nauseam</i>; and the Kur Haus and all +private dwellings are draped with bunting. Red +Cross people are busy preparing for the wounded—sewing +classes are held every day in Bad Haus 8, +and the doctors are full of work. Mr. S——, a +young Englishman, formerly in the army, has been +arrested, and also the hall-porter of the "Grand," +and two English valets.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 24th.</i>—A terrible day! First of all +Käthchen announced with complacency and obvious +triumph, that there had been a great victory "ganz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +herrlich!" and that an English Cavalry Brigade +had been cut to pieces at Lunéville, and that those +who were not killed had "run away"! Of course +I did not believe this, but it made one terribly +anxious. Then in came Miss H—— saying that +two men of our little colony had been arrested and +taken to the police-station, whence after examination +they were to be sent to Frankfurt. At the +Polizei Amt the Officials exhibited the results of +their <i>Kultur</i> by being rude and rough to the unfortunate +people arrested. A Polish woman whose +son had been made prisoner sobbed and cried, +whereupon the grim old inspector came into the +room and said sternly: "Kein Frauen Jammer +hier!" ordering her out of the room. I was in +the Park Strasse and heard some Germans chuckling +and saying: "Zwei Engländer sind verhaftet" (two +Englishmen are arrested), looked round, and saw +two of our little community, both service men, +following each other in Einspänners, each surrounded +by soldiers and fixed bayonets. It was +anything but a pleasing sight to me!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 25th.</i>—The clouds are lifting, thank God! +Cheering news has come that we are to be allowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +to leave this delightful country in eight days' time; +most likely we shall have to travel either by way +of Switzerland or Denmark. Those sagacious +personages in Berlin seem to imagine that the +secrets of the Rhine fortresses will reveal themselves +to us as we go by! What a compliment +to our powers of clairvoyance!</p> + +<p>Fraulein G—— has just been in to see me. +Usually she is a most pleasant, gentle little woman, +kind and charming; now she is full of scorn and +hatred of England. She says the Englishmen were +arrested because they were heard to say that +German papers were "full of lies." "So they +are," said I, "and you can go now and get me +arrested too." "Oh, no," said she, "I would not +tell on <i>you</i>!" In spite of her magnanimity I cannot +think our interview was a success. We argued +until I said, "If we are to remain friends, we must +not discuss the war. I <i>can</i>not think England +wrong, and as a loyal German you think Germany +right. Don't let us talk about it any more."</p> + +<p>The "Frankfurter Zeitung" declares that no +workmen in England will fight for their country, +only the "mercenaries" who are well paid to risk +their lives. Oh, this life is hard to bear! Such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +intense, frightful hatred speaks in every look, in +every action of our enemies. It is consoling to +remember that their own Nietzsche says: "One +does not hate as long as one dis-esteems, and only +when one esteems an equal or superior."</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 26th.</i>—A chauffeur at the Bellevue was +arrested to-day and taken to Frankfort. He is +only twenty, a Glasgow lad, and absolutely harmless.</p> + +<p>I am so sick of "Heil Dir im Sieger Kranz" +that as the children pass my villa shouting it or +"Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland?" I go out +on my balcony and retaliate by singing "Rule +Britannia." Small children with flags and paper +cocked hats, toy swords and tiny drums march +through the streets, day after day, singing patriotic +songs, whilst (poor dears!) their fathers are being +slaughtered in thousands. No reverses are ever +reported in the German papers, nothing but victories +appear, and Germans are treated like children. If +it were not for the "Corriere della Sera" we +should be tempted to believe the Allies in a bad +way. The "beehrte gäste" departed this morning. +At the station a band played, flags were waved,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +and every American man and woman was presented +with a small white book which contained the telegrams +which passed between the belligerent nations +at the beginning of the war. Again we hear that +Copenhagen is to be our destination.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/i033.jpg"><img src="images/i033_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + +<p class="caption">IN POLYNESIEN<br /> +(The German idea of an Australian)]</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 27th.</i>—I saw Dr. G—— this morning. +He begged me to be most careful what I said. +Two patients of his (English) Levantines were +talking on the Terrace, and one said to the other, +"We had better shave off our moustaches, or we +shall be taken for military men." They were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +promptly arrested, having been overheard by a +spy. We are now ordered to get health certificates, +which are to go to Frankfort, and be forwarded +to the military authorities in Berlin. There is an +idea that we may go away on Tuesday next. We +have found out that our passports never went to +Berlin at all, but are lying at this moment in +the drawer of that old demon in the "Polizei-Amt."</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 28th.</i>—Nothing new. The German +papers, as usual, full of their victories and their +piety, and their patriotism, and their "Kultur," +and goodness knows what not besides. Both +Kaisers praising each other and distributing iron +crosses <i>ad lib.</i>, early though it be in the day. No +mention of English troops or England, except to +abuse the "Verflüchte" English.</p> + +<p>A train of wounded men arrived yesterday, and +bandaged and lame soldiers are to be seen limping +about the town, looking ghastly pale and ill. At +the Lazarett behind the "Prince of Wales' Hotel" +there are many sad cases. The Red Cross Society +has made every provision for their comfort and +happiness possible. Sheets have been hemmed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +pillow cases sewn, bandages got ready. The +Germans, however, are chary of admitting English +women to share their labours, and those who +go and offer to help meet with a very chilly +reception.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 29th.</i>—An account has come of the +battle of St. Quentin. The "Frankfurter Zeitung" +calls it "decisive," and says that the German army +has cut off the English army from its base.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 30th.</i>—Joy at last! Even the "Frankfurter +Zeitung" acknowledges that there has been +a fight in the North Sea, and that we have sunk +German ships, but, of course, it was "overpowering +numbers and larger ships" that did it, and the +Germans covered themselves with glory as usual. +I came home and hung out my flag, the best I could +do, a red silk dressing jacket, lined with white, and +draped over a blue silk parasol, which I tied knob +out, to look like a pole.</p> + +<p>On our church door to-day was posted a typewritten +notice: "We have smashed your army on +the French Continent,(!) and we will smash <i>you +too</i> if you dare to ring your bell!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p class="entry"><i>August 31st.</i>—I heard a small boy singing to-day:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wo liegt Paris, Paris liegt Hier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Den fingen drauf' Das nehmen Wir."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I pray it may not prove prophetic, but they all +talk of occupying Paris as a certainty, and the German +Emperor has invited a number of his Generals +to dine with him there on the 12th of September. +I hear that a doctor went into the Prince of Wales' +Hotel to-day, and saw stuck up in the hall the +words: "Das Seegefecht in der Nordsee" (in +which of course we were victorious). He tore it +down and stamped on it. An altruistic German +waiter thinking to please the English guests had +put the first sheet of the "Frankfurter Zeitung" in +a prominent position to console them for the many +defeats we are supposed to have had. John Burns' +speech at the Albert Hall is reported in full in the +German newspapers, headed "Eine Rede des +ehemaligen Englischen Minister, John Burns. +England gegen seine wahren interessen" (a speech +of the former English minister,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> John Burns. +England against her true interests). No passports +yet! No release! This suspense is wearing!</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This speech I have since learnt was an absolute invention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p></div> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 1st.</i>—The sentimentality of the +Germans is amazing! They cannot even insert a +simple notice of a death on the battlefield without +this sickly parade, "Heute starb den Heldentod +furs Vaterland, unser innigste-geliebter einziger +Sohn," etc. Always a "hero's death" and "for +his Fatherland." A fresh "Bekanntmachung" has +appeared, we prisoners of war are not to leave the +town, not to stand in groups ("rotten" they call it) +talking in the streets, to be in our houses at 9 p.m., +etc. Two ex-Frankfort prisoners have been sent +for by the Chief of the Police accused of indiscreet +talking. "I hear," said the great man, "you say you +were fed on nothing but bread and water in prison." +"No," said Mr. ——, "I had soup in the middle of +the day, and coffee and bread at night, and in the +morning." "Then why do you tell lies!" Such +utter childishness, to believe every scrap of unkind +gossip!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 2nd.</i>—We are buoyed up with hope, +as they talk of our getting away this week! It <i>will</i> +be delightful to leave this perpetual bell-ringing and +flag-waving and Vaterlandslieder behind us!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 3rd.</i>—The whole of Altheim went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +mad last night, processions, bands, marchings all +night, and such a noise that at last a nurse had to +come out from the Lazarett near the Park and beg +the revellers to think of the poor wounded sick, +and spare them. No one could sleep! The last +blow has come, our church is closed!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 4th.</i>—Despair! The American Ambassador +at Berlin has telegraphed that we English +are not to leave! The Russians are going, but our +treatment is retaliatory, because they say England +is detaining German women, and Russia lets them +go. To make all worse Fraulein S——, tired of +keeping me so long for nothing, has given me notice +to quit at the moment when for three days I have +had no greater fortune than 2<i>d.</i> in my pocket. +Where I am to go, or who will take me in without +money I can't imagine! The American Ambassador +in Berlin and Mr. Ives, the American Vice-Consul +at Frankfort, are working untiringly and most +kindly for us. We do not complain of actual harsh +treatment, although to be turned adrift in the world +without money by one whose tenant I had been +for five years is hardly kind. However, war is war +undoubtedly. Mr. Ives is from the Southern States,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +Mr. H——, his Chief, from the Northern. The +Scotch chauffeur has been released after a week in +prison. He looks pale and dispirited, "a sadder," +and no doubt "a wiser man."</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 5th.</i>—The "Times" of the 5th +August has turned up in Altheim. It has gone the round of our little community until such a worn, +creased remnant reached me, that I had much ado +to keep it together until I could master its contents. +One felt a second Rip Van Winkle, awaking after a +long sleep, our world being so confined here. At +last I have discovered how to get money from +England. One writes to the American Embassy +in Berlin, and encloses a telegram (with postal +order for the same) to one's banker in London, instructing +him to pay the sum of money wanted to +the American Embassy in London, to be forwarded +through their kind offices to the Embassy in Berlin. +The telegram to be written on a sheet of foolscap +paper, with the full name and address of the sender, +and the name also of the nearest American Consul. +No letters can be sent through this channel.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 6th.</i>—No church now! Even that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +taken from us! The American Vice-Consul has +been here, and still thinks that we may get away in +a fortnight. We are sick with hoping and being +disappointed. The German Press full of the most +virulent abuse of England, "treacherous," "hypocritical," +"lying," "cowardly," "boastful," there is +no bad name they don't call her! Russia and +France and Belgium get no lashings of scorn and +fury and hatred such as England does! At last +the account of Sir Edward Goschen's interviews +with Von Jagow and Bethmann Hollweg has +appeared in the German papers. I had read it all +in the "Corriere della Sera" long ago. They talk +of stopping Italian papers in Germany since they +are pro-English (in German, "lying").</p> + +<p>Most of my English friends here went to the +German church to-day. The Pfarrer pointed out +to his congregation how clearly God had favoured +their cause, how victory had followed victory, the +virtuous, religious people triumphing over the +wicked, ungodly nations. Then he spoke of the +day so near when Germany should annihilate the +"Macht von England," and teach her when +crushed and humbled "die Wahrheit," Religion and +Morality! Humph!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 7th.</i>—Wonder of wonders! no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +bell-ringing to-day, nor processions of singing +youngsters, so we hope there is a lull in the +"Sieges."</p> + +<p>Miss H—— went last week to have her hair +washed, and during the process her hair-dresser +remarked casually to her, "We shall be in Paris in +a day or two, and in London in another week, and +when we have conquered England as well as +France you will all have to learn to speak German." +This shows the amazing conceit and +arrogance of the people. Poor, ignorant things, +they are quite hoodwinked by their rulers—and +even look forward to seeing their Kaiser "Emperor +of Europe"! One day we read that a bag has +been made of 30,000 Russians, the next that the +number was understated, and that it is 70,000. As +for Belgians and French, every day 10,000 men +and guns <i>ad lib.</i> are captured, and the poor silly +people believe it all. Villas and streets are still +beflagged, and by this time we know every patriotic +song in the "Vaterlandslieder" book by heart. +One tries to be plucky, but our hearts are very sad +just now.</p> + +<p>Paris seems doomed, and apparently the French<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +have abandoned hope too, since Poincaré and his +Cabinet have gone to Bordeaux. The German +Press call him a "Feiger" (Coward).</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 9th.</i>—Unaccountably the forward +march seems to have been checked, although we +don't know why. Maubeuge has fallen, and of +course the usual bell-ringing and bunting and +singing has celebrated the victory. We cannot +understand what our troops are doing. There is +no mention of them in the German papers, only +columns of sneers and abuse of England.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 10th.</i>—A rumour has reached us that +the Crown Prince has been captured, and that the +enemy is retreating. No official confirmation has +come to hand however; but the flags are down at +last, and the jangling of bells has ceased, and we +have not heard "Deutschland über Alles" for +twenty-four hours, "Gott sei Dank"! Prince +Joachim is wounded, and he has sent a telegram +worded after the manner of his dear Papa, thanking +God who in His goodness permitted him to be +wounded for his beloved Fatherland. I wonder +what Frederick the Great would have thought of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +these boastful warriors. We English are looked +upon with horror as the brutal barbarians who use +dum dum bullets, and Sir Edward Grey's dignified +disclaimer is reported under the polite heading +"Grey leugnet" (Grey lies).</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 11th.</i>—Nothing new in the situation, +but we rejoice to see grave faces and groups looking +solemn in the streets, and talking in subdued +voices, and thank God! we hear no bell-ringing! +Everything cheering we read in the "Corriere della +Sera" is denied in the "Frankfurter Zeitung" or +given as a production of the "Lügen Fabrik" +(manufactory of lies).</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 12th.</i>—The Germans seem depressed, +no flags, no bands, and although there is a +notice posted up in the town to say that the Crown +Prince has achieved another victory, there is +evidently something unsatisfactory in the background +to counterbalance this. I draw deductions +from the "Frankfurter Zeitung," which has a bitter +article entitled "Torheiten" (Folly), and which +speaks of the "Kindische Freudengeheul" +(childish howls of joy) of the English and French<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +Press, because "ein parr Kalonnen deutscher +Soldaten ein Stuck weges zurückgezogen haben" +(two columns of German soldiers had withdrawn a +bit of the way back). Then the writer contrasts +the boastful words ("prahlender wörte") of +England with the self-restraint and pious calm +and virtuous behaviour of Germany. One has +only to look at the postcards in the Park Strasse to +see which of the combatants is boastful. England +is drawn as ignominiously lying on the ground +(when she isn't running away) and Germany +invariably is kicking or thrashing her.</p> + +<p>People are less friendly than at first, though the +bath attendants, people in the Inhalatorium, and +doctors are most kind. I had tea at Müller's with +Miss H—— the other day. There were at least +thirty empty chairs in the tea-room, but a German +woman marched up to the chair on which I had +laid my daily newspaper, and ordered me to take it +off, as she must have my chair! She was stout +and ugly, and had a way of doing her hair which, +as a writer says, "alone would have proved +impeccable virtue in the face of incriminating +circumstantial evidence." For all their "Kultur" +Germans are gross, and to the last degree inartistic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +Their "<i>nouveau art</i>" is repulsive; their dressing +outrageously ugly, and their cooking atrocious. I +have watched them here year after year tramping +up and down the shady walks stolidly drinking, +wearing garments of ingeniously devised ugliness +and blind to "<i>l'inutile beauté</i>." There is no variety +of type nor individuality of person in either men +or women. These worthy <i>Hausfrauen</i> have no +grace of dainty frills, diaphanous lace or rustling +petticoats. They are obviously and incontestably +of the class described by a witty writer to whom "a +lace petticoat is as much a badge of infamy as a +cigarette on the stage." The German proletariat +cannot be susceptible to externals, else the universal +sad-coloured skirt, the ill-fitting blouse and +the ugly hat worn by his women-folk could not find +favour in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Life in Altheim has changed under war conditions. +The Kur Haus is closed, there are no +teas on the Terrace or promenadings to the strains +of Grieg or Strauss, or theatrical performances. +The German Kur-Gäste have left, and only the +Russian, English and a few Belgian prisoners of +war remain. Russians here are chiefly of a very +low class. Most of the women go about bareheaded,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +and all are rough and unkempt and dirty-looking. +I fancy some of them have suffered much +privation, but happily their order of release has +come. They will have to travel by Denmark, +Sweden and across to Petrograd. The weather is +autumnal, and they have only summer clothes, like +us. We cannot help them, having so little money +ourselves. I have had to borrow twice, and tried +to sell my jewellery without success, but I have +developed a latent and unsuspected talent for +laundry work. The pretty summer shops in the +Park Strasse are now closed, and the sound of +beating mattresses is heard everywhere; the blinds +of most of the villas are drawn down, and the +families having no longer lodgers have descended to +their winter quarters on the ground floor. Only a +few <i>einspänners</i> are left, as both <i>Kutschers</i> and +horses are gone to meet a "Heldentod" for their +Fatherland.</p> + +<p>One sees white-capped nurses and Red Cross +Ambulance men and wounded and bandaged warriors +everywhere. When recovered, the soldiers +get three days leave to visit their families, and +then return to the Front. Poor souls! Shops are +chiefly tended by women nowadays, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +German Frau is not a capable shopkeeper like the +French woman. A "Drogerie" here is presided +over by the wife of the man who owns it, in his +absence at the war. She is a gentle, rather pretty +creature, but amazingly slow and stupid. If tooth-powder +be asked for, she mounts a ladder, searches +among a hundred bottles, shakes her head despairingly, +and wonders where her "Mann" has put +it. Outside her Küche and house, the German +woman does not shine, but she is a faithful unselfish +wife, and a good and affectionate mother. Mr. +Ives thinks we shall certainly get away next week. +I hope so! The weather is cold and rainy, and +there is no fire-place in my room.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 13th.</i>—The Altheim daily papers +complain that they are inundated with foolish +questions over the telephone. "Ist Namur +belgisch oder französisch?" (Is Namur Belgian or +French?)</p> + +<p>"Gehen die Schottländer wirklich mit nackten +Beinen in die Schlacht?" (Do the Highlanders +really go into battle with naked legs?)</p> + +<p>"Wie lange wird es ungefähr dauern, bis die +Deutschen Paris eingenommen haben?" (How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +long will it be before the Germans have taken +Paris?) and so on.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 14th.</i>—Again rumours of our going, +but even though release will be most welcome, we +all dread the journey. Terrible tales come to us of +the treatment meted out to foreigners crossing the +frontier. Many English were turned out of +Wiesbaden and sent here. At F—— they had +their luggage searched, and the ladies of the party +were stripped to the skin by women who even +combed their hair to see if by any ingenuity they +had concealed plans and drawings in the puffs and +coils, two soldiers with fixed bayonets mounting +guard meanwhile outside. No doubt we shall +remember this journey to the end of our lives, but +what can you expect from a people whose Prophet +Nietzsche says, "What is more harmful than any +vice? Pity for the weak and helpless—Christianity!"</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 15th.</i>—The singular absence of humour +of the Germans often amuses me. I think it +was Palmerston who described Germany as "that +land of damned Professors." They are all so desperately<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +in earnest, and their "Kultur" is so serious, +that jokes and fun seem like blasphemy. My +penury has again been relieved by Mr. S——'s kind +loan of £1. Lady M—— came in to tell me that +the American Vice-Consul had telegraphed to Mr. +W—— the good news that we are all to go on +Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday next. I have +heard this story so often that I am utterly sceptical. +We conclude that things are going badly for the +enemy, since there is no bell-ringing, and the flags +have been taken in.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/i049.jpg"><img src="images/i049_th.jpg" +alt="" title="" /></a></p> + +<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">NUR IN LONDON NICHT</span><br /> +(<i>But not in London!</i>)</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 16th.</i>—I hear that no men who have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +served in the Army or Navy are to be allowed to +go with us. To-day's "Frankfurter Zeitung" +thinks that England must be at her last gasp, or +she would not have "barbarians such as Indians, +Japanese and <i>Highlanders</i>" fighting her battles for +her! They also declare on "unimpeachable +evidence" that India is in a state of revolt, and that +the Japanese are to be despatched at once to quell +the rebellion. Any misfortune to the British +delights them.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 17th.</i>—The B——s, who to our envy +have received special passes to go to Denmark, got +as far as Hamburg and then had their passports +taken from them. The Chaplain and his wife disappeared +one morning, and we learn that he obtained +a special pass on the ground of being a clergyman. +He was heard to utter something about the +"Bishop of London," and perhaps that was the +talisman. Lady M—— tells me that they have +arrived in Hamburg, we wonder what their fate +will be!</p> + +<p>A delightful story has just reached me from an +Italian source. In the church of a Convent +Hospital in France, one of the sisters was praying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +aloud with immense fervour, and when she came to +the "Confiteor" she said: "C'est ma faute! c'est +ma faute! c'est ma très grande faute," whereupon +uprose a Turco crying out: "Ah! non! ma Soeur! +c'est la faute à Guilleaume!"</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 18th.</i>—A letter at last! but only one +from the American Consul at Frankfort, saying that +the Foreign Office wanted to know my whereabouts +as several friends had inquired about me and my +safety. I can't imagine why, when America +rescued her stranded citizens long ago, and sent +them money to get home, we should be suffering +like this. Nothing more about the phantom train! +Our nerves are becoming wrought up, and we are +developing unexpectedly irritable and argumentative +natures. The weather is amazingly windy and +horribly cold, one shivers in summer garments, and +cannot afford to buy warmer things. A leading +article in the "Frankfurter Zeitung" gives us a +grain of comfort, since it is headed "Geduld +und Zuversicht" (patience and confidence), and +begins,</p> + +<p>"In consequence of the victorious news of the +first weeks, those remaining at home had become<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +accustomed to constant victories, and the pause in +the news of the battlefield of the West is a great +trial of patience." Long may that trial last! On +the whole we ought to be thankful that we are in +Hesse and not in Prussia. The Hessians are a +simple, kindly people, pleasant, and good tempered. +I have known Germany well for eighteen years. +When first we travelled in the Fatherland I found +each Duchy, or Kingdom, or Principality, devoted +to its own particular Ruler, and little outside it +mattered to its people. Nowadays there are no +Hessians or Würtembergers, not even Saxons or +Bavarians, but all are Germans, and for one +photograph of the Grand Duke of Hesse and his +Duchess you will see here one hundred of "Unser +Kaiser" and "Unsere Kaiserin." They have +become Imperialists, and the ambitious spirit which +animates them is shown by the act of a soldier at +Liège who chalked up on a wall: "Kaiser Wilhelm +the Second, Emperor of Europe."</p> + +<p>I have now 2<i>d.</i> left in the world, and have not +taken my inhalation for two days, not being able to +pay for it. The money I telegraphed for has not +yet come, and life seems very difficult! I think of +the old lines:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Tis a very good world we live in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> To lend, or to spend, or to give in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> 'Tis the very worst world that ever was known."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 19th.</i>—At the eleventh hour and +when I seemed at the end of my resources, help +came from a most unexpected quarter! I can never +cease to be grateful for the goodness and kindness +which relieved my distress. The Germans look +downcast, the Russians jubilant. How paternal +this Government is no one who has not lived in +Germany can imagine. For instance, above the +nearest pillar box I saw a notice written "Don't +forget address and stamps!"</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 20th.</i>—Our passports are now in the +hands of the military authorities at Frankfort, and +Mr. Ives, the American Vice-Consul, is doing all +in his power to get us leave to go. The Superintendent +of the Inhalatorium is most kind and +sympathetic. She inquired why I had not been +there for three days, and when I told her "Gar +kein Geld" (no money) was the cause, she cried +with real feeling, "Schrecklich!" (terrible). Any +thing to do with money or the want of it appeals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +to the Teutonic mind, although the Germans sneer +at us for being a nation of shopkeepers. There +are two words we hope never to hear again, +"Kultur" and "Unser." "Unser Deutschland," +"Unser Kaiser," "Unser Kultur." How weary +and trite are these! What an extraordinary +mixture the Germans are, brave, conceited, sentimental, +prosaic, patriotic, and yet no people so +soon lose their national characteristics, and become +citizens of another country as Germans. Many of +their intellectual poses are absolutely morbid. +They adore Ibsen as a playwright and despise +Goldsmith and Sheridan; they worship Gauguin, +and the school of Impressionists, and have little +appreciation nowadays for pre-Raphaelitism. They +are intensely and truly musical, and it is amazing, +taking into consideration their extraordinary lack +of humour, that they should be such accomplished +students of Shakespeare, but of real wit or humour +the German possesses not an atom. Take, for instance, +the modern novels of Suderman, of Rudolph +Herzog, of Rudolph Stratz, of Bernard Kellerman, +of Paul Heyse, and you will find intense seriousness, +tragedy, pathos, masterly drawing of character, and +absolutely no fun from cover to cover. As for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +"Fliegende Blätter," the German "Punch," it is the +sickliest imitation of humour possible to conceive. +Foremost in science, the German is yet a neophyte +in the graces and arts of life. What cooking! +what clothes!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 22nd.</i>—If we may believe such good +news we are to be released from this irksome life, +and set at liberty next Saturday. Our joy is much +damped, however, by hearing that none of the men +are to be allowed to leave, and, of course, their +wives stay with them. Mr. Ives has made a special +journey to Berlin on behalf of our poor men, but the +authorities are obdurate.</p> + +<p>People say that the loss of life in this terrible +war is beyond belief as far as the Germans are +concerned. To hide this the Emperor requests +that no one shall wear mourning for the dead until +the war is over. Also, no complete catalogues of +casualties are issued, only lists for each kingdom, +or duchy, so that the bulk of the people have no +idea of the waste of life. The wounded being so +numerous, the doctors now have little time to attend +to them on the spot, and therefore they are put into +trains and sent off to "Lazaretts" sometimes before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +even their wounds are washed. A Belgian lady +who had a special police permit to go to Frankfort, +returned this afternoon in a train full of wounded +soldiers. One of these was put into her carriage. +He had been badly shot in the arm; his sleeve was +soaked with blood, and that had coagulated; his +wound had never been washed, and French earth +was still on his boots, and yet he had been sent in +this condition from Rheims to Giessen!</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 23rd.</i>—Terrible news! A telegram +was posted up in the town this morning, saying that +three English "Panzerkreuzers" had been sunk by +one German submarine. Of course the church +bells pealed, and the flags came out, and the +children sang "Nun danket alle Gott," because +950 brave Englishmen had gone under. We are +much depressed, and our depression is aggravated +by the want of occupation here. We dare not +sketch for fear of being "verhaftet" (arrested). It +is no good writing because every scrap of paper +will be taken from us on the frontier; nobody I +know plays bridge, and so I read and walk all day +long. Miss H—— tells me that a rude young clerk +in the "Löwen-Apotheke" refused to talk English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +to her this morning, "You will have to learn +German now, because we shall be in London +within a fortnight," said he! No German I have +yet known foresees any other result of this war but +success. The Fatherland Commissariat, according +to the Italian papers, leaves much to be desired. +The unfortunate soldiers are almost starving, and +often live for days together on raw carrots, turnips, +herbs, or any other vegetable they can root up out +of the ground. The doctors are puzzled because +men have died of such seemingly slight wounds. +One case seemed so incomprehensible that an +autopsy was decided on, and a raw root with +fragments of earth upon it was found in the poor +creature's stomach. The Russians left at 5 a.m. +this morning, men and women. It is more than +hard that our poor men should be left behind. +Lady M——, who has been ill, and her daughter, +an invalid lady, and her maid, were given special +passes to go a couple of days ago. Miss M—— and +Miss G—— went to the police station armed +with these passes, and requested to have their +passports back. "The Demon" curtly refused. +"But you <i>must</i> give them to us," said Miss M——. "Don't +say <i>müssen</i> to me!" said "the Demon,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +"<i>bitten</i> is the word!" (Don't say <i>must</i> to me, <i>beg</i> +is the word).</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 24th.</i>—Joyfully packing! A last +meeting was held at the "Prince of Wales' Hotel" +where kind Mr. S—— presided, and we all received +instructions for our journey, and our long detained +passports!</p> + +<p>Fifty women and children go. We sleep in +Frankfort, and cross from Flushing to Folkestone. +Oh! that terrible mined sea, and the "untersuchung" +of the Frontier. I tremble for this +Diary, all letters I have destroyed.</p> + +<p class="entry"><span class="smcap">Frankfort</span>, <i>September 25th.</i>—We are still in +the enemy's country of course, but have come out +of our prison Altheim. All were early at the +Bahn-Hof. There for the last time, please God! +we found our old horror the Chief of Police. He +had a long paper in his hand, and read out our +names; "Hamilton?" "Here!" "Your passport?" +(which he scrutinised as if he had never +seen such a thing before), and so on. As we got +our precious papers back we passed through the +barrier, where our tickets were clipped, and on to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +the platform above. The train when it came +in was crammed with soldiers, and we were +advised to wait two hours for the next, but (to a +woman) we all preferred travelling third, or even +fourth class, rather than remain another hour +where we had suffered so much. Miss G—— told +me afterwards that she had travelled with +two German men, who cursed England up +and down, using the most horrible language +about her.</p> + +<p>Presently a wounded soldier came into the +carriage, and they asked him where he had been +fighting. "On the Western Frontier," said he.</p> + +<p>"With the French?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did you see the English?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Of course not! They had all run away. +Cowards, cowards!"</p> + +<p>These are the things which make life so unendurable +in an enemy's land. I was sent here to +the "Hessicher-Hof," which, although it masquerades +under another name, I had no difficulty in +recognising as the former "Englischer-Hof." Miss +H—— went to the "Hotel Bristol," and when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +she got there found over the door the one word +"Hotel." What we women should have done +without the able committee who arranged all details +for us with such kindness and thoroughness, I +cannot imagine.</p> + +<p class="entry"><i>September 28th.</i>—There were few tears shed +when we steamed out of Frankfort two days ago on +our way to home and freedom. It was wonderful +to feel that we might talk above a whisper in the +railway-carriage; amazing that we had not to +scrutinize carefully every corner to be sure no +spies lurked there, and most delightful of all +to know that we had got beyond the reach of +the Demon of the Burg-Strasse. Egotistically +enough we went over in retrospect our anxieties, +disappointments and miseries. Should we ever +get rid of that evil shadow, we wondered, which +had darkened so cruelly two weary months of +our lives!</p> + +<p>Now and then we looked out of the windows +with distaste—agreed that the outskirts of Frankfort +were hideous with their obtrusive and insistent +collection of factory chimneys; and shuddered at +the distant and beautiful background of mountain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +and forest, to us so teeming with painful memories. +We exclaimed at the unsightliness of the huge +skeleton lettering proclaiming to all the world that +a <i>maschinen-Fabrik</i> was below. Even when we +entered a bucolic region of modest gardens and saw +nothing more aggressive than cabbages and turnips, +we turned away from the sight with aversion. +Yet the villages are picturesque enough, and +so are the towns. Timber-framed and gabled +houses, steeply pitched red roofs and stunted grey +and mossy church spires, certainly make no unpleasing +picture. In happier days I have admired +the grape-vines meandering over the whitewashed +cottages, and marvelled at the monotony of taste +which furnished every window-ledge with exactly +four pots of scarlet geraniums. Now, nothing +pleased us that was German; scenery, architecture +or people! "This," we said to ourselves, is "the +sunny Rhineland through which we are passing, +and we see no obvious signs as we go by of the +struggle which is devastating Belgium and menacing +France." At the first station, however, we realised +that Germany was indeed at war. Red Cross +nurses seemed everywhere. Long tables were +spread with snowy cloths and bore coffee urns,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +zwiebacks, hörnchen and huge bowls of steaming +soup ready for the poor wounded as they pass +through. Now and then pale bandaged faces +looked out at us from passing trains, and men on +crutches hobbled by, and the horrors of mutilating +war came home to us all. At Goch we had to +show our passports, and have our luggage +examined, but the reality proved not nearly so bad +as our imaginings, and on the whole the officials +were kind and courteous compared to our Altheim +demon. The sun was setting blood-red behind a +distant line of black forest when we left Goch and +our enemies and imprisonment behind us and +entered the Land of Promise.</p> + +<p>We had all been saddened in the morning +to learn that Mr. Ives' strenuous efforts to get +permission for the men left behind to go soon, had +met with a curt refusal from the Commandant at +Frankfort. "When England returns our men, not +before, and she had better be quick about it," said +he. But how true is Rochefoucauld's cynical +epigram—"Nous avons tous assez de force pour +supporter les maux d'Autrui!" Even our +sympathy with, and sorrow for, those left in +Altheim could not damp the joy we felt to be free<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +again; and when we quitted Goch, the German +frontier station, I thought how blessed would be +that day when "They shall beat their swords into +ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks; +nation shall not lift up a sword against nation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +neither shall they learn war any more. But +they shall sit every man under his vine and +under his fig-tree; and none shall make them +afraid."</p> + +<!--[Blank Page]--> + + +<hr style="margin-bottom: 0em" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="GERMAN_TRAVEL_NOTES" id="GERMAN_TRAVEL_NOTES"></a>GERMAN TRAVEL NOTES</h2> + +<p><!--[Blank Page]--><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="TAKIN_NOTES" id="TAKIN_NOTES"></a>"TAKIN' NOTES"</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">He</span> who knows his Rhine and loves it must take of +its charms in small doses, or satiety is the outcome. +There are those, of course, who can travel from +Dan to Beersheba and cry, "'Tis all barren"; but +the ordinarily intelligent traveller may find much to +delight and interest on the banks of the Rhine, +always provided that he suits his mood to his +environment, and takes but little of Rhine scenery +at a time. For surely between Coblentz and +Bingen there is an iteration as regards castles and +ruins which is downright wearisome. Do we not +between these points find Lahneck, Marksburg, +Sterrenberg, Liebenstein, The Mouse, Rheinfels, +The Cat, Schönburg, Gutenfels, The Pfalz, +Stahleck, Furstenberg, Hohneck, Sooneck, Falkenburg, +Rheinstein, and Ehrenfels?</p> + +<p>Moreover, there is an affinity of form and colour +and, indeed, of situation between all these which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +produces the effect of perpetual repetition. And we +owe Byron a grudge for having written such trite +words as "the castled crag" in relation to the +Rhine, since no commonplace mind of the present +day acquainted with his works but has fallen back +on "the castled crag" to describe Drachenfels or +Marksburg or Rheinfels, because, forsooth, its own +English is too limited to supply a better adjective. +So it is that conventional and inadequate English +is perpetuated and individual force and expression +are lost because people accept the ideas of others +and will not seek language to convey their own.</p> + +<p>All of which above prosing is the result of a day +on the Rhine when the thermometer registered 74° +to 84° in the shade, and a white vapour hid the +banks of the river from Köln till close on Bonn. +At Bonn a huge party of "personally-conducted" +American tourists came on board. Their sharp, +keen, eager, shrewd faces and shrill voices proclaimed +their nationality at the outset. They were +all obviously outside the pale of Society, and their +thirst for information and keen interest in their +surroundings were amazing. One learned before +long that they had "done" the Paris Exhibition +and meant to have a "look in" at most European<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +countries before sailing from Naples. They took +the whole ship into their confidence before a quarter +of an hour had passed; and we shared alike in +thrilling intelligences conveyed through the medium +of Baedeker's pages. "The castled crag" resounded +from one end of the boat to the other; +and as for Roland and Hildegunde, the tragedy of +their lives was discussed, and exclaimed over, and +lamented, until, happily, a bend of the river hid +Nonnenwerth from sight.</p> + +<p>In emphatic contrast to the nervous alertness of +the Yankee was the spectacle of the middle-class +German and his ways. He sat by his plain, stout, +ill-dressed Frau, with his back to the scenery, and +ate. Occasionally he spoke in monosyllables: more +often he drank; but the end and object of his Rhine +trip seemed to be that of consuming as much food +as lay within the limits of possibility. What +Nemesis has in store for him and those of his +manner of life I can only imagine!</p> + +<p>At a table near us sat three women and two +men. Directly we left Köln a waiter set forth +trays in front of them laden with coffee, zwiebacks, +hörnchens, and eggs. This meal over, they sat +sleepily blinking their eyes, whisking away flies,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +and mopping the moisture from their faces until the +sound of "Eis! meine Herrschaften!" "Bier! +meine Herrschaften!" roused them from their +lethargy. Ices and beer and cherries and peaches +successively filled up the weary hours until "the +tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell," carried joy to +their hearts. I can never forget the rapturous look +of anticipation and satisfaction which those stolid +middle-class Teutonic countenances wore when +"Mittagsessen" was announced. They shook off +their normal and habitual torpidity, and cheerfully +elbowed their neighbours, nearly tumbling down the +companion-ladder in their eagerness to be first in +the field. They lost no time over the unlovely +detail of tucking a corner of their napkins down +their necks, and smoothing its folds over their +protuberant persons; and they studied the Speise-Karte +with a conscientiousness that was worthy of +a better cause.</p> + +<p>Dinner began with a tolerably good soup, +followed by tough roast beef, cut in thick slices and +garnished with carrots, peas and beans. Next +came veal, equally uneatable, and then a surprise +in the shape of Rhine salmon; after which followed +chicken, salad, and <i>compôte</i>. Finally, a stodgy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +pudding, sufficiently satisfying, and dessert. Not +one item of the menu was neglected by the five. +They calmly and conscientiously and readily ate +through the Speise-Karte from start to finish. +Then they returned to deck, only to order coffee +and ices, and called for a bottle of champagne, three +of light Rhine wine, and a plateful of peaches; +out of which they brewed a cup, ladling it from a +Taunus ware bowl into their long Munich glasses, +and sipping it lazily all the afternoon between such +trifles as Kuchen and fresh relays of cherries. +They ate and drank from Köln to Bingen with rare +intervals of dozing, and I never once saw any of the +party take the faintest interest in the Rhine, so far +as its banks were concerned.</p> + +<p>It was a relief to turn from such grossness to its +antithesis in the shape of two American ladies who +sat near us. They were well-preserved, well-bred +spinsters under forty. Everything about them was +dainty and exquisitely neat. I likened them in my +mind to bowls of dried rose-leaves—the freshness +gone, the perfume left. Such was their intense and +intelligent interest in travel that, rather than lose a +timber-framed village or historic castle, a vineyard +or watch-tower, they abstained from lunch and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +picnicked lightly on deck off tea and eggs and +hörnchen. They knew the legends of the Rhine as +you and I know (or ought to know) our Prayer-Books. +They had studied the history of Germany, +and mastered the intricacies alike of the Thirty +Years' War and of the Hohenzollern pedigree; and +they talked well, expressing their ideas in good +Saxon words; at times, perhaps a trifle pedantic, +but never offensively so.</p> + +<p>As the day wore on the temperature became +almost overpowering. The water reflected a +blinding glare, and a heat like that of a burning +fiery furnace was radiated from the engines. I was +wondering whether a hammock in a cool English +garden would not have been more desirable, when I +heard a plaintive, uneducated American voice +behind me ask a question of its mate which +exactly embodied my own unuttered sentiments:</p> + +<p>"What <i>I</i> want to know, Jake, is: Is this +pleasure, or ain't it? Did we come here to enjoy +ourselves, or what?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jake</span>: "Wall, I guess you ain't used to travelling +around, my dear, and you don't understand it. Oh, +yes" (with an obvious effort), "this is real fust-class +pleasure, this is!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jake</span>: "Wall, I'm darned! I'd as lief be +in our store."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jake</span>: "Sakes alive! You <i>do</i> surprise me! +Think what Keren-Happuch Jones will say when +you mention casual on your return something that +happened when you was sailing up the Rhine. +She'll die of envy, she will, and spite to think +you've seen more'n her."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jake</span> (cheered somewhat): "Wall, I +reckon, Jake, there's summat in that. Keren-Happuch +don't like anyone to do what she don't do."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jake</span>: "And then, my dear, think of your noo +bonnet from Paris! That'll be another pill for +Keren-Happuch to swallow."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jake</span>: "My! Yes! I don't think much +of Europe, anyway, but I could never have bought +that bonnet in Baltimore. But, Jake, do look on +the map and tell me when we get to Heidelberg."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jake</span>: "It ain't any good my lookin', my dear, +for I wasn't raised to these sort of things, and +I'm darned if I know where to find it."</p> + +<p>A groan from Mrs. Jake, followed by: "Wall, I +reckon when I find myself again in No. 9, Mount +Mascal Street, I won't want to go travelling around +even to cut out Keren-Happuch Jones."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>I came to the rescue at this point, and showed +the good lady where Heidelberg lay. She was a +hard-featured, plain woman of some thirty-eight +summers, her hair was dragged back uncompromisingly +from her forehead, and there were no +"adulteries of art" about either coiffure or costume.</p> + +<p>"You see," she said apologetically, "Jake here +and me are travelling around, and the only way we +can get on is to ask for a ticket to a place, and +never stop travelling till we get there. We speak +German all right because my parents were Germans, +and Jake was born in Germany; but he don't know +much about it because he was only two years old +when he left it eight-and-thirty years ago. We +thought we'd like to see the Paris Exposition, but +my! it ain't to be compared to the Chicago +Exhibition, and as for Paris, it can't come up to +Noo York, and these river steamers ain't a patch on +the Hudson River boats, and I don't think much +of Europe anyway."</p> + +<p>Jake, a good-looking, gentle-mannered man, +tried to soften the asperity of his wife's strictures +without success. He evidently adored her.</p> + +<p>"The way we travel," resumed Mrs. Jake, "is +to think of a place we've heard of, and to ask for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +ticket to it. Now, we'd heard of Paris and +Cologne, and Heidelberg, and Baden, and Dresden, +and Berlin, and Hamburg, but we don't know now +how they come—see? So we hev' to go cavortin' +around to find out which to take next. A gentleman +way back at Cologne"—she pronounced it +"Klon"—"told me Heidelberg came next. I quite +thought Baden was near Hamburg, and that we +should take it last; but they tell me it ain't, and +that, you see, has upset all our calculations. Guess +you're a Londoner, anyway; thought so by your +accent!"</p> + +<p>When we left the steamer at Bingen, the last I +heard of Mrs. Jake was a plaintive moan:</p> + +<p>"Guess I don't think much of Europe, anyway, +and I wouldn't come again, not even to cut out +Keren-Happuch!"</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h3><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>OF SOME FELLOW TRAVELLERS AND<br /> +THE CATHEDRAL OF MAINZ.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Ja Wohl!</span> Frau Rittergutsbesitzer. I have +lived in the Herr Professor's house for five-and-thirty +years. I have pickled his cabbage and +preserved his fruit. I have minced with my own +hand the pork for his sausages before they had +mincing-machines in Schleswig-Holstein. I have +seen personally to the smoking of his hams and +fish. I make his Apfelkuchen and Nusskuchen +myself, and do not buy them in the shop, like that +lazy Hausfrau opposite us at No 2, who comes from +that God-forgotten country England, where all the +women are so badly brought up. I grant you that +what I do is no more than the duty of every God-fearing +German <i>Haushälterin</i>; none the less, I do +not mean all my work to go for nothing, and I will +not be ousted by a hussy! In the time of the +<i>vielbedauerten</i> mother (Frau Regierungsrat Lenbach)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +I had no worries about his matrimonial affairs; she +looked after those. But <i>sieh mal</i>, Frau Riedel, +now the care of him is on my shoulders. He has +no more idea of taking care of himself than a baby! +He is exactly like that learned man—I think it was +our great Neander—who was running out of his +college one day and ran into a cow; so he pulled +off his hat and said, '<i>Gnädige Frau, ich bitte um +Verzeihung</i>' ('Gracious lady, I beg your pardon'), +and went on; and the week after he came tearing +round the same corner, thinking, I suppose, of those +heathen gods and goddesses whose pictures shame a +modest woman to look at, and he ran up against a +lady, so he cried out: '<i>Oh! du dumme Kuh! +warum kommst du mir immer in den Weg?</i>' +('Oh, you stupid cow, why will you always get in +my way?') Yes, my Herr Professor is just like +that—quite as stupid, though they call him so wise +and clever; and what chance has a born innocent +like he is against a designing spinster of forty-five +who makes him presents of <i>Weihnachtstollen</i> at +Christmas, <i>Oster-Eier</i> at Easter, and <i>Geburtstagstorte</i> +on his birthday? I ask you what chance of +escape a poor <i>Junggeselle</i> has?</p> + +<p>"Told him she wanted to marry him! Not I.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +Why, <i>liebe Frau</i>, I have not lived sixty-five and a +half years in this world for nothing! If I let him +suppose she was in love with him, that would be +the very way to make him like her. So as I laid +the cloth for the Herr Professor's <i>Abendtisch</i>, I +remarked casually that Fräulein Bettine Meyer was +not at all a bad sort of woman really, and that she +had some excellent qualities, if only she did not +make herself so ridiculous. 'How ridiculous?' +says he, sitting up. 'What does she do ridiculous, +I should like to know?' 'Why, wears a false front +and curls bought at Frau Kölsch's shop,' says I. +'Poor thing, she can't make herself look young +and beautiful, whatever she does, and Frau Rittmeister +Bernstorf was laughing at her the other +day, and at the high heels and at the stuffing the +<i>Schneiderin</i> round the corner puts into her gowns +to cover the angular bones! She would look much +more respectable,' said I, 'if she would brush her +scanty grey locks back, and smooth them with +pomatum as I do, and wear a black lace <i>Mütze</i> over +them, instead of making herself the laughing-stock +of Schleswig.' And away I walked. And the +Professor ate no supper that night, and next day he +left for his <i>Ferienausflug</i>, and never called to say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +good-bye to Fräulein Meyer; and so I put the +extinguisher on that little candle just as its flame +was beginning to burn up, and—why! here we are +at Mainz."</p> + +<p>And this is what I heard, and how I was +entertained, in the "elektrische Bahn" on my little +expedition from Wiesbaden to Mainz. I reflected, +as I saw the Haushälterin get down heavily with +all the deliberation of her sixty-five and a half +years, that feline amenities are much the same in +Germany as in England; and I felt sorry for poor +Fräulein Meyer, who might have given up her +small vanities and made pancakes and <i>Apfelkuchen</i> +for the Professor quite as well in the end as the +Haushälterin.</p> + +<p>The cathedral of Mainz was, of course, the +object of our expedition. It dominates the city +from afar, with its wonderful towers and pinnacles, +making of Mainz (a commonplace city enough) a +thing of beauty. From the shores of the Rhine we +crossed a wide street planted with trees and lined +on each hand with modern German houses of +pinkish stone (covered with heavy sculpture and +breaking out into countless balconies and bay +windows), and soon found ourselves in the market-place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +And here, indeed, one felt oneself in the +Germany of bygone days. Instead of pseudo-classic +buildings, heavy with meaningless ornamentation, +we found beautiful old timber-framed houses, with +deep eaves and wood carvings. On one of these I +read:</p> + +<p class="center"> +Zum Kurfürstlichen<br /> +Wappen.<br /> +Erneuert in Jahr<br /> +des Heils<br /> +1899.<br /> +</p> + +<p>It was evidently a Gasthaus of considerable +antiquity, and had been carefully restored. Close +by a Brobdingnagian finger lured the unwary to +where it pointed—a low doorway above which was +inscribed the legend: "<i>Hier essen Sie gut</i>." The +market-place had been dismantled of its stalls and +umbrellas all but one, which was being furled as we +arrived on the scene. A couple of men in blue +smocks were sweeping up the cabbage leaves, straw +and refuse, market carts were driving off, and +smart-looking officers in beautiful uniforms strolled +across what we English miscall "a square" for +want of a better word.</p> + +<p>But to get a good view of the exterior of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +cathedral was what we wanted, and to this end we +dived down strange, evil-smelling alleys, and went +round and round a labyrinth of streets, always +expecting to see, and never arriving at, the +cathedral's façade. At last we realised that the +quest was hopeless, since the building is so surrounded +and deformed by commonplace, ugly houses +that nothing of it but roof and towers can be seen +from outside. We entered it at last by a narrow +lane between poor, ugly houses, an unfit approach +indeed to this beautiful Romanesque cathedral—one +of the four famous Romanesque Gothic cathedrals +of Germany. The general effect of the interior is +that of strength, solidity, and simplicity. The grand +structural lines are noble and pure. There is an +entire absence of the florid in architecture, and no +attempt at all at decoration as one understands it in +Spanish cathedrals. The tone of the walls and floor +is a pinkish brown, and the whole church has a +warm glowing effect from its richly-coloured stone. +I could have spared most, if not all, of the overladen +rococo monuments to the Electors of Mainz, with +their monstrous records of impossible perfections; +but my companion (a German lady) thought them +beautiful. The whole church struck one as rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +ill-kept; perhaps the red stone floor had something +to do with it. Dust and mud do not adhere somehow +to an opus Alexandrinum pavement. A guide +appeared to offer his services, almost obsequiously +polite in his attentions to the English lady. Whatever +their opinions may be as to our failings and +vices, our shortcomings and our iniquities, most +Germans are civil to us nowadays.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> They hate us +cordially, envy us sincerely, attack us in the press and +out of it, and are insanely jealous of the people they +affect to despise. But while the superficial <i>entente</i> +lasts, they smile and bow and are outwardly polite. +I asked an English lady, the widow of a German +official, if her husband, having married an English +wife, did not cherish kindlier sentiments towards us +than the majority of his countrymen. "He died +during the Boer war," she said, "and he died in the +sure and certain hope that England was done for."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> This was written before the war.</p></div> + +<p>Apart from the Domkirche, there is little to see in +Mainz, although the city is of great antiquity, having +been founded by Drusus. It is a strongly fortified +place, and stood once upon a time a memorable +siege. There are pleasant walks by the Rhine, +beautiful Anlagen, a picturesque old tower, and the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>site of Gutenberg's house to see. The Grand Ducal +Palace once sheltered Napoleon the First, as did +many another palace in Germany. The present +Grand Duke prefers his palace in Darmstadt, the +Neue Palais (built by Queen Victoria for Princess +Alice), and comes little to the ancient city of bygone +Electors.</p> + +<p>We have fallen into German ways—alarming +thought!—and become unquestionably alive to the +virtues of cafés and Restaurations as a wind-up to a +day's expedition. At Mainz we discovered a café +close to the theatre, and sipped coffee and ate +<i>Streuselkuchen</i> out of doors in the shadow of the +cathedral and Gutenberg's statue. A pleasant-faced +Gretchen brought us miniature Mont Blancs of +whipped cream on small glass plates, and loitered +near us ostensibly rearranging a table, but in reality +studying our gowns and hats. Before we paid our +Rechnung, the Haushälterin and Frau Rittergutsbesitzer +turned up hot and rather cross, having +spent their time since we parted in futile attempts +to match Schleswig-Holstein ribbons with those of +the sunny Rhineland.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h3><a name="SCHLANGENBAD" id="SCHLANGENBAD"></a>SCHLANGENBAD.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></h3> + +<h4>GREEN HILLS AND BLUE WATERS.</h4> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Schlangenbad</span>, although a charmingly pretty spot, +is not one to fascinate a painter. The landscape is +unvaryingly green, and that green is too monotonous +in tone for effect in a picture. Moreover, it +lies shut in by hills, and there is no distant horizon +to give the value of foreground and middle distance. +But less critical eyes find much to admire in +Schlangenbad. The great wide road leading to it +from Eltville testifies to its former popularity in the +days of family coaches and postilions. Nowadays +an ugly steam tram transports the traveller from +the Rhine to the "Serpent's Bath," and nearly +poisons and chokes him <i>en route</i> with the horrible +smoke it emits. Half of the tram is open to the +air at the sides, like a char-a-banc; and when we +travelled by it a little party of Germans were +enjoying an <i>Ausflug</i>, each man with one eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +cocked on the scenery and the other on the +look-out for a <i>Bier-garten</i>.</p> + +<p>Next to me sat a student, whose face was so +slashed and gashed that it reminded one of +"Amtshauptmann Weber" (in Reuter's delightful +book), whose "face looked as if he had sat down +upon it on a cane-bottomed chair." Opposite the +student was a middle-aged fat "Assessor," with a +small girl in long frilled drawers and short petticoats; +and on the other side of the gangway were +two homely-looking women in lead-coloured garments. +As we passed through Altdorf the child +drew her father's attention to a fat goose which +waddled away as the tram approached. "<i>Sieh +mal, Vater</i>," said she, "<i>die schöne Gans</i>." ("Look, +father, at the beautiful goose.") "O! <i>die Gans</i>," +said her practical and prosaic parent, "<i>wird viel +schöner sein, mein Kind, wenn sie gebraten ist</i>." +("The goose will be much more beautiful, my child, +when it is roast.") "And has an accompaniment of +sage-stuffing and apple-sauce," I added, to which +he in all serious conviction bowed an assent.</p> + +<p>The valley up which we journeyed was green +and pleasant. There were no walls or fences on +either side of the road, but trees shaded the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +wayfarer, and his outlook on gardens, bean-poles, +orchards, and vines was agreeable enough. If he +chose to look further afield a silvery streak called +the Rhine was visible, and beyond that again low +blue hills stretched away until their cobalt and that +of the sky got mixed on the palette of Nature. +From this valley comes the famous Rauen-thaler +wine. Most of the hills, indeed, are covered with +vines, and the village houses showed grapes +hanging from their eaves and peeping in at their +windows.</p> + +<p>At Neudorf we paused to pick up a <i>Barmherzige +Schwester</i>; and as our halt was exactly in front +of the village shop I amused myself by making a +mental inventory of its contents. The window—an +ordinary one—had wooden shelves nailed across +it; and on these were displayed soap, slates and +slate-pencils, bottles of peppermint lozenges, hearthstone, +flannel, lemon-drops, gingham, sausages, and +gingerbread.</p> + +<p>The houses of the village were covered with +rough stucco, and white or yellow-wash was +swished liberally over them. Under their deep +eaves an occasional small image of <i>Die Mutter +Gottes</i> was to be seen. Many were covered with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +grape-vines, and all had clean muslin blinds at their +windows, and often pots of geraniums and fuchsias +outside. Sunflowers, dahlias, and roses grew in +the little patches of garden by the road; and all +was charming and primitive, save for the discordant +electric fittings which hung midway on the +telegraph-posts, and the anomaly of a brand new +brick <i>Brod-fabrik</i> just outside the village.</p> + +<p>All the way up the "cane-bottomed chair" and +the "Assessor" smoked stolidly, while their women-folk +cackled like human geese. "<i>Wie schön!</i>" +"<i>Colossal!</i>" "<i>Entzückend!</i>" "<i>Reizend!</i>" Nothing +but incessant and weary adjectives! I turned +with relief to the "Barmherzige Schwester," a prim +and silent little figure in neat blue cotton gown, +black apron, and white kerchief pinned over her +shining hair.</p> + +<p>The tram stopped at last before the village +church, and we all got out. To our left, as we +faced the Kurhaus, straggled a long line of houses +with deep verandahs and balconies, to our right +shady walks and bath-houses and beautiful woods. +Here and there amid the hotels and villas was a +shop, and we knew that Schlangenbad marched +with the times when we saw the word "<i>Schamponieren</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +and a bunch of Empire curls exhibited as +a modern trophy. We stopped at a shop and +examined its wares, which, indeed, hung chiefly on +the shutters. There were Swiss embroidered +gowns and blouses to be bought, edelweiss +penwipers, wooden paper-cutters, and clocks with +chamois climbing wooden rocks. Nothing apparently +in that shop had been "made in Germany." +When we reached the verandah of the "Nassauer +Hof" we were gladdened by bows from the +"Assessor" and the student, who with the +"cackling geese" were seated at a long table +consuming piles of Apfelkuchen, Streuselkuchen, +and Napfkuchen to an accompaniment of steaming +coffee.</p> + +<p>As for dull, useful information Schlangenbad, of +course, was known to the Romans, and they bathed +in its waters. The Middle Ages seem to have +neglected Spas generally, and to have been dead to +the joys of a bath. At all events, nothing more +was heard about Schlangenbad or its springs until +in 1687 a wooden hut was put over what was +known as the "Römer Bad." Next the Landgraf +of Hesse awoke to the virtues of its waters, and +caused the "Oberes Kurhaus" to be built. Five<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +years later, the "Nassauer Hof" was erected, and +a time of prosperity and fashion set in for Schlangenbad. +The waters have always had a great +reputation for beautifying the skin and healing +wounds and sores. It is on record that Frederick +the First of Sweden ordered four thousand bottles +of Schlangenbad water a year as <i>eau de toilette</i>, and +another and still vainer sovereign three hundred a +week. After this who shall dare say that women +have the monopoly of vanity?</p> + +<p>Besides embellishing, the Schlangenbad waters +are good in nervous disorders, rheumatism, and +asthma. They are of an exquisite light-blue colour, +and when bathing in them one's limbs have the +appearance of marble. That the Schlangenbad +people think highly of their "cure" is obvious. I +bought a map of the district (manufactured in the +place) and found the word Schlangenbad printed in +huge letters, while the neighbouring town of Wiesbaden +was in such small ones that it looked as if +scarcely worth mentioning at all.</p> + + + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="LIEBENSTEIN" id="LIEBENSTEIN"></a>LIEBENSTEIN.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> in the Thuringian Forest, aloof from the stir +and roar of life, lies a Kur-Ort little known to the +English world. Its waters are analogous to those +of Schwalbach, its air is as pure, its scenery more +beautiful, and its prices half those of the Taunus +Wald. Its people still retain their primitive charm, +unspoilt as yet by the potentialities of South African +or American money-bags. Within easy reach of +such interesting towns as Eisenach, Weimar, Erfurt, +Gotha, and Coburg, it offers many alluring baits to +the sightseer; yet to the coming and going of +tourists is it altogether unaccustomed. Liebenstein +lies in a green and beautiful valley, and the hills +which surround it are covered for the most part +with great black forests. Patches of wheat and rye +vibrate in the winds which sweep up the valleys, +and the fields of potatoes alternate on the low +grounds with pasturage and orchards. Under the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +great limestone rocks, which near Liebenstein rise +sheer out of the plain, nestle charming villages, and +long avenues of poplars conduct you where you +would go along the high roads. By the roadside a +wealth of flowers is yours for the picking—wild +thyme and asparagus and mallow, periwinkles, and +the picturesque dock and crowfoot. The woods are +starred with flowers, and the perfume of the pines +is a revelation.</p> + +<p>The humbler houses of Liebenstein (for the +greater part timber-framed and red-tiled) straggle +up the immediate hills which surround it. Those +of more pretention and inevitable ugliness range +themselves decently and in order along two parallel +roads. Aloof as this village is from "the madding +crowd's ignoble strife," it has yet been touched to +its undoing by the ruthless finger of conventionality. +The inevitable Kur-Haus and bandstand and +Anlagen are here; worst of all, a Trink-Halle! +The Trink-Halle stands a mute and awful warning +to the vaulting ambition which overleaps itself, +since a classic temple in the heart of Liebenstein is +surely as much out of place as a tiara would be on +the head of the peasant woman who hands you your +daily portion of Stahlwasser. Even the spring it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +originally sheltered has revolted against its sham +marble pillars and grotesque entablature, and betaken +itself elsewhere! Nowadays the paint and +plaster are peeling off the columns, and its door is +padlocked. Happily—although a melancholy warning +to the educated—it remains a source of pride to +the peasant, who loves his shabby temple as the +Romans do the marble glories of their Vesta.</p> + +<p>Immediately behind the temple are the springs +of Georg and Kasimir, at which stand two charming +maidens ready to fill your glasses. No conventional +and hideous hat or bonnet disfigures the neat +outline of their heads. No travesty of Berlin or +Paris fashion burlesques their sturdy figures. +Theirs the traditional costume of the Thuringian +female peasant—a dark skirt, and white, short-sleeved +chemisette, a blue apron and the daintiest +of white silk kerchiefs, fringed sparsely and +brocaded abundantly with red roses. Albeit their +arms are red and coarse with the combined effect of +iron-water, hot sun, and exposure to the air, their +faces make ample amends in their innocent, good-tempered +comeliness. They greet you with a +kindly "Guten Tag" or "Guten Abend," and, in +the case of a lady, seldom omit the pretty "Gnädige<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +Frau," for which our "Ma'am" is but a poor correlative.</p> + +<p>Wandering through the streets of Liebenstein, +one is struck by the intensely picturesque sights of +its older and original part. The little houses are +timber-framed and whitewashed, with deep projecting +eaves and often many gables. Their +windows are made gay outside by boxes filled with +geraniums, nasturtiums, and fuchsias. Beneath the +windows lie small gardens, in which bloom roses +and single dahlias, while scarlet runners send their +tendrils climbing over the palings which separate +road and garden. Many of the little houses have +projecting signs, on which one reads such legends as +"<i>Tabak, Cigarren, Cigaretten</i>;" "Adolf Schmidt, +<i>Herren kleidermacher</i>;" "<i>Weinhandlung Naturreinheit +garantirt</i>;" or the very indispensable +"<i>Bäckerei</i>." One house bears a tablet announcing +to an admiring world that "<i>Herzoglich. Sachsen-Meiningen +Stadtesbeamter</i>" lives within. Cocks +and hens, dogs and children, make common playground +of these narrow streets, and one sees in them +pretty well every form of animal life represented, +except horses. Now a long cart, drawn by oxen +and well filled, toils up the hill, and not long after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +follows one drawn by a big dog. At a pump two +tiny girls are busily employed filling stone jars, +which by the beauty and purity of their outlines +might have been Etruscan. Mothers beat mats at +their cottage doors, and shrilly scream at their +children to get out of the way of the passing carts; +and the world in this remote village goes on pretty +much as it does elsewhere.</p> + +<p>But the fashionable life of Liebenstein does not +concern itself with such mean sights and bucolic +sounds as oxen-carts and crowing of cocks. It +takes its pleasure up and down the long avenues of +beech trees which lie between the Kur-Haus and +the Hôtel Bellevue. It rallies round the bandstand, +and makes great show of studying the programmes +of the daily concert. It chatters glibly +over the previous evening's illuminations, and +describes them as "<i>colossal!</i>" and "<i>wunderschön</i>." +Beauty is not in vogue at Liebenstein, judging by +the middle-class Kur guests who haunt the shade of +the beech trees. Indeed, if anywhere in the world +an Englishman might be forgiven for thanking God +that he is not as other men are, it would be here +among the "<i>Ober-Lieutenants</i>" and "Herr Professors" +and their mates. Figures, both male and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +female, seem to be of the switchback order—faces +rudimentary in their modelling, and uncompromising +in their plainness, dressing of the ugliest. Yet, <i>Gott +sei Dank!</i> Hans thinks his Gretchen perfection, +and it would never enter into innocent Gretchen's +head, as it does mine, to bestow upon Hans the +carping criticism of Portia upon Monsieur Le Bon: +"God made him, and therefore let him pass for a +man."</p> + + + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="TREVES" id="TREVES"></a>TRÈVES</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> dominant glory of the Moselle region is +Trèves. No town or city near has the smallest +affinity with its peculiar character, and all seem +modern and prosaic compared with its well-preserved +tale of antiquity. "Nowhere north of the Alps," we +are told in weary iteration, "exist such magnificent +Roman remains." It is generally on the obvious +that the unimaginative English parson takes upon +himself to comment. We listen submissively to +much school-book lore as to "Claudius" and the +"fourth century" and the "residence of Roman +Emperors," but when it rains Bishops and Archbishops +and Electors we fly before them. For, after +all, what signifies the paltry learning of a dry-as-dust +dominie compared with the vivid tales these grand +old ruins tell if suffered to speak for themselves? +In Trèves people need to absorb silently, and then +assimilate undisturbed by weary chatter. One looks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +at the tender turquoise sky, flecked with luminous +clouds; at the fine horizontal distance, with its sense +of breadth and breathing-space; at the low hills +covered with vines; at the cornfields, and orchards, +and river—and we wonder what the old Romans +thought of it all, and reflect on the strangeness of +life that a people so remote from our times should +have lived and loved and died, as we live and love +and die to-day. Whether Trèves lie on the right or +left bank of the Moselle is immaterial except to the +tiresomely precise or to those who pin their faith to +guide-books and such shallow teachers. There is a +more valuable lesson to be learnt of the place than +that of its exact situation; and no Baedeker or +Murray can help you to appreciate Trèves as quiet +communings with your own intelligence will. If it so +happens that you have none to commune with, then +God help you—and yours!</p> + +<p>In Trèves you have not far to go in search of +the Romans. Their <i>magnum opus</i> confronts you +boldly at the very threshold of the town. Solid +and massive and symmetrical, it stands a pregnant +lesson to the jerry-builders of to-day. There is little +affinity indeed between the building methods of the +ancient Romans and those of their trade whose sorry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +pitiable record exists in the Quartiere Nuovo of +Rome. About the Porta Nigra is no trace of stucco +or rubble. The huge blocks of which it is built +stand one upon the other clean-hewn and square. +No signs of mortar are left, but we see marks of iron +or brass clamps. Its colour is a warm, deep red, +softened here and there by streaks of green.</p> + +<p>The Porta Nigra has passed through strange +phases since first it started in life as a city gate. +Obviously built for purposes of fortification, and +equipped with towers of defence, its second phase +was an ecclesiastical one, and the "spears" +were indeed turned into "pruning-hooks" when the +bellicose propugnaculum found itself transformed +into a church.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Last scene of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ends this strange, eventful history."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The gate was in 1876 finally cleared of priests and +altars, and allowed to revert to its original form.</p> + +<p>Not far from the Porta Nigra stands the Cathedral, +one of the oldest in Germany, archæologically +interesting, inasmuch as it owes its inception to the +Romans. The Basilica, built by Valentinian as a +court of law, is clearly traceable in the present cathedral, +and one reads a strange tale of Romans and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +Franks in the sandstone and limestone and brick of +its walls. Here is treasured the famous Heilige +Rock, or holy coat worn by our Saviour when a boy. +At rare intervals this garment is exhibited to the +faithful, who come from all countries to gaze reverently +upon it. Who that has seen can forget the +last exposition in 1891? Never before or since has +there been anything more pathetic than the sight of +the long rows of tired, haggard, perspiring, praying +pilgrims, who stood patiently for hours in the +broiling August sun, moving only when permitted, +and then at a snail's pace, towards their Mecca. +Plebeian though the majority of faces were, their +devotional, solemn, rapt expressions for the time +being ennobled and beautified them.</p> + +<p>Trèves during that time, however, was by no +means the reposeful, dignified city it is to-day. Its +buildings were defaced with flags and banners, its +streets blocked with pilgrims, and the road leading +from the station to the town was lined with booths, +whose owners disposed quickly of such delicacies +as Napfkuchen, Streusel-Kuchen, and Apfelwein. +Piety and profit went everywhere hand-in-hand, and +a roaring trade was done in rosaries and bénitiers, +the last made of the blue pottery of the country, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +stamped with a representation of Leo XIII. against +a background of Domkirche.</p> + +<p>But to be thoroughly in harmony with Trèves +one must be Pagan and Roman rather than Christian +and German. Indeed, one feels in sympathy with +the Isle of Wight farmer who after he had found a +Roman villa on his farm gave up the bucolic and inglorious +occupation of growing turnips and potatoes, +and could talk of nothing meaner than hypocausts +and thermae. So we, like the farmer, slight the +really beautiful Early Gothic "Liebfrauenkirche" +and roam and muse for hours about the ruins of the +Amphitheatre, the Roman Baths, the Roman Palace +and the Basilica.</p> + +<p class="printer">LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,<br /> +DUKE STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND GREAT WINDMILL STREET, W.</p> + +<div class="note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Notes</h4> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; line-height: 150%">page <a href="#Page_23">23</a>—inserted a missing closing quote after 'Dank!'<br /> +page <a href="#Page_36">36</a>—inserted a missing period after 'Burns'<br /> +page <a href="#Page_61">61</a>—inserted a missing closing quote after 'France'<br /> +page <a href="#Page_82">82</a>—typo fixed: changed a comma into a period after 'pavement'<br /> +page <a href="#Page_83">83</a>—typo fixed: changed a comma into a period after 'Electors'<br /> +page <a href="#Page_93">93</a>—spelling normalized: changed the position of semi-colon and a quote after 'Cigaretten'</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A War-time Journal, Germany 1914 and +German Travel Notes, by Harriet Julia Jephson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WAR-TIME JOURNAL, GERMANY *** + +***** This file should be named 23533-h.htm or 23533-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/3/23533/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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. 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