JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE Sy NOBLE FOSTER HOGGS ON (/h ^ Class JTUo^iil Book hf S-R 2-EMPRUNT LA OEFtn^t NATIONALE RjuR LA France VERSEZ VOTRE OR COr Combat FourLaMctoire JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE \ A GARDEN SHELL-HOLE T^HE placid surface of this artificial lake con- ceals the wound torn in an Alsatian garden by a shrieking German shell which fell short of its intended mark. But this section of Alsace is French once more, and the quaint, walled-in gardens will blossom on French soil, and in time the scars of Prussian shells will be obliterated by the growth of luxuriant vines. JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE 'By NOBLE FOSTER HOGGSON 'Jitember of the American Industrial Commission to France NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMX VIII COPYRIGHT I918 BY NOBLE FOSTER HOGGSON APR 23 1918 PRESS OF REDFIELD-KENDRICK-ODELL CO., NEW YORK ©CLA494706 /vm:? TO LAURENCE BENET PREFACE GAN you picture a traveler returning home after a long absence ? At every home-near- ing hour he recalls the home scenes as he last saw them, and thinks of the dear ones that he left. His mind tells him that he must be prepared for great changes, but his heart refuses to listen. The France that I had left five years ago was full of youth, of joy, of contentment, a land of sun-kissed hills, of velvety meadows and of purple vineyards, a land filled with the songs and laughter of children and the smiles of gentle women. On my return I found her sadly changed. She had suddenly aged. The joy and contentment were gone, and in their place were intense suffer- ing and profound sorrow. The fiery ordeal through which she had passed had left its ugly scars but it had also tempered her and made her finer and stronger. Where she had lost materially she had gained spiritually. She stands to-day erect and proud, confident and determined, her face illumined by the glory of a great faith that in the ultimate outcome of the tremendous struggle hers will be the victory. ix JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE It was my rare privilege to be a member of the American Industrial Commission which, in the fall of 1 91 6, visited France to study the existing industrial conditions of that country, and to learn how the United States might best help to heal some of the deep, exhausting wounds of the war. We were received as brothers, with open arms and open hearts. All doors were opened to us that we might enter and see how France was living up to her ideals. Everywhere was the evidence of a splendidly united and organized nation; a nation of calm, resourceful, efficient, untiring, resolute people. We were amazed by the fortitude of both the men and women throughout the country. The women in all vocations, by their loyalty and zeal, were making it possible, perhaps as much as were the men through their strength and their heroism, for France to take her invincible stand against an overwhelming and better prepared enemy. It has been said that "the hour always makes the man." This war has made the women of France. Their development has been a wonder- ful revelation of the vast latent reserve power of the nation. While the war has not created this power, it has roused it and revealed to the world its silent potency. JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE The greatest tragedy ever set upon the world's stage is now being enacted. The testimony of every eye-witness containing an accurate descrip- tion of even a small detail is, as it were, a little side-light that helps to illumine the whole scene. It is with this thought that I have ventured to set down my impressions gained at close range — not a story of the war, but rather of the brooding spirit of the war — a description of the condition and atmosphere of the country and the effect of the war upon the people **Just Behind the Front in France." XI Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X CONTENTS Within the War Zone ... 19 Along the Road from Belfort toThann 35 A Visit into Alsace .... 47 The Battlefield of Col de la Chipotte 57 The Battle of the Bridge, and Sister Julie .... 69 Nancy, the Home of Prefect Mirman 91 Chalons and Its War Cemetery 11 1 On the Road to Rheims . . 129 Rheims and Its Desecrated Cathedral 139 In the Trenches 161 xiii ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE A Garden Shell-hole 4 / Cave-dwellers 21 The Lion of Belfort 27/ The Road to the Front 33 / The Journey Back from "No Man's Land" 39^ "This IsThann" 45/ Church of Saint Thiebald 491/ In Lovely Alsace 53 v A Trio of Rude Crosses 6iy Last Resting-place for the Brave 65^ "Homeless" 71/ Doubly Unfortunate Gerbevillier .... 75 y An Alert Machine-gun Crew 79^, The Magnieres Cathedral Still Stands . . . 85/ A Temporary Bridge Across the Meuse . . 89 Regards to the Boche 93 The Old Tower 99^ XV ILLUSTRATIONS — Conan«^' of de- struction. In most cases the homes that were are represented by pathetic reminders in the form of stark, rugged outlines of a chimney or a portion of a plastered wall. CHALONS AND ITS WAR CEMETERY the thought that at the rate we traveled we made poor targets for the German guns which often were trained on the roads we had to traverse. The term *' nerve-racked" fairly describes my condition after traveling four hours in the darkness. The ruins of Revigny, a town of two thousand inhabitants before the war, were in complete dark- ness when we arrived. By the use of our head- lights, which were turned on for a few minutes, we were able to see rising here and there from out the wet mass of rubbish the stark, ragged outlines of a chimney or portion of plastered wall — pathetic reminders of a once peaceful home. I was much depressed by the sight of the utter destruction about us as we slowly crept between the great piles of brick, stone, plaster and twisted iron. Through the main street were lined wagons of a long supply and post train; the poor tired horses standing with drooping heads and ears, soaking wet and steaming in the rain, no doubt grateful, as were their drivers, for their short respite from exhausting work. It was not always easy for our chauffeurs to find their way in the dark, and when we lost sight of the car ahead it was with considerable uneasiness [IIS] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE that we pushed on at top speed. While on the main highways we had httle trouble in keeping the road, but when passing through the demolished villages and towns many opportunities for losing our route presented themselves. Twice during the night after leaving Bar-le-Duc we lost our way, but by sheer good fortune arrived at the *' Hotel de la Haute Mere de Dieu'' in Chalons at ten o'clock with no damage other than a severe strain to our nervous systems. The meal had been prepared and waiting for us since seven o'clock and we did not hesitate to show our interest in the repast that was set before us. As the hotel with its reduced help could not take care of our entire party, some were billeted to quarters a few blocks away, and not long after dinner those who were to "sleep out" started across the square to find their beds. Without help we might have spent the night searching, for no gleam of light was allowed through chink of win- dow or crack of door and the night was black. Besides, the turns and angles of the narrow streets of Chalons were most puzzling. I found I was not to occupy a room in the Hotel d'Angleterre, to which I had been directed by the motherly old proprietress, but had been billeted to [ii6] MAKING READY FOR ACTION VfAKING ready for action one of the great ^^^ French guns, the Rimailho, so named after its inventor, the French general. It is no easy task to move these tremendous cannon over the soft earth. The caterpillar treads are given the surety of hold and support afforded by planks laid along the path as a temporary track. CHALONS AND ITS WAR CEMETERY a room in an old house on the opposite corner, owned by Madame Jacquard, who loaned two of her best rooms to the hotel on occasion. After entering the small stone-flagged hall, I stepped down into my room, which occupied the corner of the house and, lighting a candle, looked about me. The warm coziness of the room re- moved it at once from the class of ** hotel rooms." The floor was covered with a velvet carpet in good soft-green tones. The walls of warm gray were hung with interesting and well-framed prints, and the Louis XVI. furniture with its excellent tapes- try covering breathed of more fortunate times and more luxurious surroundings. The bed strongly appealed to my appreciation of comfort and, well pleased with my lot, I slipped under the covers and was soon among scenes un- touched by the carnage of war. On awaking early the next morning I found it difficult to place my- self. The sounds of voices and of hurried footsteps were so very close to me that for the moment they seemed in the room. The casement windows were open, but the iron shutters closed. I sprang from bed and was push- ing them open with effort when there was a bump, a shout and a scrambling, together with loud [119] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE laughter from across the street; and lo! before my eyes was the ludicrous figure of a fat postman whom the swinging shutters had struck in the stomach and cleared completely off the absurdly narrow sidewalk. The man's surprise proved hard to ex- press promptly in words and before he could speak I apologized to his evident satisfaction, and again amused the group of schoolboys by my speech in pajamas from the open window. The morning, crisp and bright, promised a fair day. After dressing I breakfasted in the garden, surrounded by beds of asters and chrysanthemums. "Would you Hke to accompany me to the War Cemetery?" smilingly inquired my pretty hostess, as she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Of course I would, and finishing my coffee I took a last look about the sweet little garden and joined her. I was pleased to carry the basket containing beautiful flowering chrysanthemums which were to be planted on the graves of two boys whose parents lived far away in the south, and who had written requesting her to perform the service for them. Near the outskirts of the city, the cemetery, a few acres of unoccupied land in the beginning of [120] 'IN THE DEMOCRACY OF THE DEAD' r N THE democracy of the dead, all men, at last, are equal. There is neither rank, sta- tion, nor prerogative in the republic of the grave," said Robert G. Ingersoll. In many of these cemeteries— beautifully kept gardens they appear, with their neat, well-kept walks, bordered with cheerful flowers — the soldiers of France share their final earthly resting-place with the Prussian and Mohammedan warriors, victims of the world holocaust, yet victors after all, because they have at last found peace. CHALONS AND ITS WAR CEMETERY the war, was now the last home of thousands of brave young fellows who at the first bugle-call had gone smiling to their duty, believing that Christ- mas would find them home again, happy and well, among their families and friends. The broad, well-kept walks bordered with flower- ing plants, the orderly arrangement and the dignity of the place brought to my hps words of praise for the good people who, through all the distressing times since the retreat of the Germans in the fall of 1914, had made and cared for this beautiful garden where the bodies of many of the best sons of France have been reverently laid to rest. After the battle of Chalons, trenches were dug six feet deep, eight feet wide and seventy-five feet long, and as the dead were brought from the front and from the hospitals they were tenderly laid Side by side and covered with earth, leaving the remaining portion of the long graves to accommo- date the bodies which would arrive on the days to come. Rows upon rows of black wooden crosses three feet in height mark with eternal sadness the last resting-place of the soldiers. On the crosses are stenciled in white numerals the numbers which were taken from the aluminum wrist-bands and over the cross-arms are hung [123] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE beautiful imperishable wreaths wrought in colored beads; some of the crosses have several wreaths, but many, many of them are without the slightest indication that those at home know of the resting- place of their loved ones. There were also many German soldiers mterred here, and toward the farther end the Star and Crescent neatly worked out in a large bed of flowers indicated the section in which a number of Spahis had been buried. These poor fellows are buried in a standing position, facing the east, and the individual graves therefore occupy a space on the surface of only twenty-four inches square. They are thus interred that Mahomet may, according to their belief, easily lift the candidates into heaven by the ears! While we were in the cemetery a poor woman came and, grasping the pickets of the neat white fence, sobbed as though her heart would break. She was the picture of abject misery. Each morn- ing she comes to plead with the gardeners to tell her the whereabouts of her dear man from whom she has heard nothing since he went bravely from Chalons to fight the savage Huns more than two years ago. You may be sure that she has searched every dead face that has come to the garden, but [124] A WAR-TIME CEMETERY T^HE heroic sons of France lie buried here in -'- this well-ordered cemetery behind the lines. The last resting-place of the brave poilu who has laid aside his gun forever is marked with the numerals stamped on the aluminum wrist-band which had been attached to his wrist. To these cemeteries come tired-eyed women, some with flowers and wreaths to brighten the graves of their lost loved ones, others to search for their heroes of whose fate they know not. CHALONS AND ITS WAR CEMETERY she Stood that day, as she has stood each day for many months, slowly being consumed by grief. The sweet peacefulness of this flower-scented garden was suddenly shattered by the crash of bursting shells and the roar of guns as the artillery began its daily activity but a few miles away. The reverberations soon merged into the con- tinuous roll of heavy thunder and my blood quick- ened as my thoughts were rudely brought back from their dreaming to the present-day happenings of a sad, mad world. While on my way through the winding streets of old Chalons in search of the thirteenth-century cathedral, I recalled the history of some of the trials and sieges which this chief town of the Department of the Marne has suffered since its early days. Great battles were fought here in the third century, and it was in the middle of the fifth century that the Huns were defeated by the Romans, Franks and Visigoths in so important a conflict that it is set down as one of the fifteen decisive battles of the world. Without doubt this town had a good and early training. Centuries passed, but her troubles were ever present. The Prussians occupied the city in [127] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE 1814, the Russians in 1815, and the Germans in 1870, and again in 1914. Is it any wonder that the atmosphere of this venerable city creates in one the deepest reverence? It is most fortunate that the Germans in their retreat in September, 1914, did not shell the Cathedral or the Church of Notre Dame, which is situated just behind the Hotel de Ville; for the destruction of these architectural monuments would have proved an irreparable loss to the world equal to those of Louvain and Ypres. The Church of Notre Dame is supposed to have been begun in the twelfth century and its structure is most interesting on account of the combination of Romanesque and Gothic styles. Here again the superb glass! The gems and jewels of the vitreous art of the Middle Ages, through which the sunlight streaming fell in soft iridescences of rose, amber, emerald and purple upon nave and transept and choir. The people in the streets hurried briskly in the cool, crisp autumn air, each busied with his own concerns and unconscious of the heavy inter- mittent reverberations which noisily announced the proximity of the great world war and its accompanying death and destruction. [128] CHAPTER VIII On the Road to Rheims IN THE middle of the forenoon we reluctantly- entered our motor cars, left the interesting old town, and were soon on the highway lead- ing to that most noted historical city, Rheims. The country was glorious — great fields of prime alfalfa lay on either side. Then came long stretches of country symmetrically laid out with thrifty young pine and spruce, samples of France's com- prehensive plan of reforestration. The highway, bordered with fine Norway maples, lay as a taut gray ribbon straight before us. Like a "Midway" in a great world's fair, this enchant- ing road held much of interest. I turned hurried- ly from right to left, fearing lest I might miss something on either side — like a child at a two- ringed circus. Sergeant Forot, turning toward me, pointed to a half-dozen objects showing high against the sky on the right of the road. Then I saw for the first time the sausage balloons, those great bologna- shaped gas-bags which, tethered behind the lines, [129] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE are invaluable to the army as observation posts. From his high position in one of these posts, the observer detects through his binoculars the move- ments of the enemy troops, the approach of rein- forcements, or the preparation for an attack, and at once telephones his information to headquarters. As we approached Les Grandes Loges, we over- took a company of mitrailleurs returning from the front trenches to billets in rest camp. The men were rough-looking and dirty, covered with mud and grime, but they seemed well and hearty, with plenty of snap and vigor left in them. Their eyes shone with a singularly keen earnestness and fervor — expressions of the wonderful spirit of de- termination and constancy which have helped make the French soldier the object of our wonder and admiration. Between the evenly spaced shade trees on the right-hand side was a protective screen sometimes made of pine boughs and at others of jute material, in both cases hung from wire stretched about sixteen feet above the ground. "We are now within the range of the German shells,'* called back our sergeant; "the screen is absolutely necessary." It certainly added much to my comfort. [130] .\FTER THE ENEMY HAD PASSED /^N the shell-torn bank of the Somme, where some of the fiercest fighting of the war occurred. Not only did German shells work their havoc, but the French and English guns, too, wrought destruction. These ruins do not picture the state of one town, but of hundreds of French towns and villages. Official photogra- phers and correspondents are here shown record- ing the desolation after the passing of the enemy. ON THE ROAD TO RHEIMS Airplanes used for reconnoitering are parked at intervals back of the front. We passed from time to time one of these parks where everything was in readiness. On the instant of a telephone order six eager "hawks" would rise in search of their prey, and from the records seldom failed to find and destroy it. Hangars built of wooden frames and stretched with canvas are so well painted in camouflage that it is impossible for the enemy airmen to discover them. The larger machines are equipped with wireless with which to advise their headquarters as to the position and movement of the enemy. Smoke- balls as well as a system of spirals and dips are used to direct the fire of the artillery. A large airplane sailing along above us was under orders to convoy us over the dangerous portion of our road and to signal for help if trouble came to us. The presence of barbed wire entanglements, screens and trenches along the way suggested the nearness of the enemy and also that it might have been well to slow up a bit and go more cautiously. But no, our chauffeurs, who have been over this road many times in the past [133] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE two years, deemed it more expedient, to my regret, to increase the speed. "You should have been here an hour ago," said the sentry as we entered the village of Beaumont. "The bursting of a *i8o' is something to see." I expressed my regret at not having arrived in time, but did not stop to investigate the damage as I believed in the old adage that "troubles never come singly," and felt that I would rather learn of the arrival of the second shell while I was going away from there. Our nearness to the German lines soon became of serious moment. We were warned by the sentries on leaving Beaumont that it would be very unsafe for us to continue on the main road to Rheims. We therefore made a detour south through Verzy, over a cross-country road. This dirt road led us through some of the important vineyards in the Champagne district. Wire entanglements ran in all directions through the vines and supported many hidden trenches. Screens of brush and jute stuff hung across and above the road as we climbed the hill to the sad little village of Verzy. Fifty feet apart, and acting as "flies" in a stage setting, these screens effective- ly hid the road from view of the Germans across [134] A TOWN CRIER TTHE village drummer, a loyal Frenchman, proud of his post, now that his true country- men have brought part of the lost provinces. Alsace and Lorraine, "back home," is the local equivalent of the town crier of our own Colonial days. Here he is reading to the assembled and delighted townsfolk a bit of good news from the advancing French front. ON THE ROAD TO RHEIMS the valley. Like Beaumont, Verzy had not only suffered from shell-fire but also from street and house fighting, as the bullet-holes through doors and windows, splintered jambs and shutters and the honeycombed stucco amply testified. All barns and sheds along the roads were marked with big numerals indicating the number of men and horses which they could accommodate. In leaving Verzy we passed a battery of field- guns cleverly hidden in a field on the left of the road. Unless with the help of another's eyes, I would have passed, without a suspicion of its existence, the emplacement, surrounded as it was with transplanted trees, shrubs and vines. The absence for some time of the last two cars gave us considerable uneasiness, and on reaching the summit of a hill we determined to wait for them. Many of the battlefields of the earher period of the war lay in the valley below us. About eight miles across the plain, and showing like a dark brown spot against the gray horizon, stood one of the noblest and finest examples of early Gothic architecture. My heart throbbed fast as I first caught sight of the world-famous cathedral, and the thought of [137] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE the dastardly attempt of the Huns to burn and destroy this coronation place of all but four of the kings of France made me hot with indignation. At this distance the venerable architectural pile looked as it had looked for many centuries and I kept turning in my mind the questions: "How badly is it damaged?" and "Can it be repaired?" In less than an hour I shall answer the questions for myself. Soon on the road behind us appeared two tiny specks which proved through our glasses to be the delayed cars, and we immediately started on towards Rheims. Again on the main highway, we found it now continuously screened. Our chauffeurs had orders to keep the auto- mobiles three hundred metres apart in order to avoid tempting the German gunners with a group of six. As we stopped at the command of one of the numerous sentries, we found ourselves in the midst of a company of soldiers who were vigor- ously digging new trenches for the support of the road. [138] CHAPTER IX Rheims and Its Desecrated Cathedral 4T LAST we are in Rheims, whose importance /A in France to-day, great though it is, is perhaps no greater in proportion than it was back in the time of the Romans. We enjoyed an excellent luncheon at the City Club, tendered us by Robert Leuthwaite, presi- dent, and a few of the members. The thought of a big one-hundred-and-eighty-millimetre German shell bursting close at hand did not abate our keen appetites. One shell would have sufficed to spoil the entertainment, and we learned that as many as three thousand had fallen upon the city in one day. While seated at table, Mr. Leuthwaite described the unannounced entrance a few days before of a large German shell. It came through the transom of a window directly back of where he was sitting and crashed through the dining-room floor into the cellar. Fortunately it arrived between meals and failed to explode when it reached the cellar. The conversation at table drifted from war to what France planned to do after the war; then to [139] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE wines and the great vintages, and then back to war again. In describing some of the famous vintages of years gone by and the old-time methods of curing and bottHng, Colonel Tantot on my right told us that on festal occasions, many years ago, there was in use the "Jeroboam," a large bottle holding four quarts or twice the quantity of the "magnum," and that on very grand occasions it was not uncommon to open a few "Nebuchad- nezzars." These latter bottles contained eight quarts of champagne. "The crops for 1914 and 191 5 were good ones and the wines of those years will probably reach you as vintage wines," was Mr. Leuthwaite's answer to a question I put to him. The 191 6 crop is a failure, it having been im- possible to spray and care for the vines. The Colonel, who had won the red ribbon and had just returned from active service, described to those seated near him some of the battles in which he had fought. In one battle, in September, 191 5, he lost all his officers and practically all of his men. Everybody about him had been shot down, yet he escaped without a scratch. Discussing the dogged perseverance of the French peasant, he related the following incident: [140] A CATHEDRAL THAT ESCAPED DESTRUCTION /^NE of the most potent reasons why Germany holds on so tenaciously to Alsace is because of the productiveness of iron ore in the Meurthe and Moselle country. Here the cathedral, though sadly damaged, miraculously escaped utter demolition when a mighty shell, hurtling on its errand of destruction, crashed into a wall of stone and mortar, and lost the force of its power through the impact. Square after square of houses lies in ruins. RHEIMS AND ITS DESECRATED CATHEDRAL "One morning," said he, "as I was shaving, I was surprised to see through the window of the house I was occupying as headquarters a peasant plowing in the field near-by. The shells were con- stantly screaming overhead, and as the man was liable to be killed, I sent an orderly to warn him of his danger and to suggest that he leave his work until after the shelling in that sector had ceased. On the following morning, while again shaving, I saw the man back at his work beginning to plow where he had left off the day before. I this time ordered him to desist until the fighting was over, but it was only by arresting him and placing him under guard that, on the third morning, I was able to make him leave his work. The peasant was much annoyed, explaining that it was necessary for him to plow his field; that if he waited until the fighting was finished, it would be too late to plant his seed and his crop therefore would be a failure the following year." The Colonel did not attempt to conceal his uneasiness concerning our visit to Rheims, and explained that the Germans were in the habit of shelling the city every few days with their big guns, which were constantly kept trained upon the town. "If they have not observed your cars entering the [143] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE city, then you have the low-hanging clouds to thank,'* he remarked as we left the dining-room. Of the four hundred members of the City Club only six were left in Rheims. We were not allowed to linger over our coffee and cigars, for there was much of interest to be seen in the city and afterwards we were to visit the trenches. When we left, the three chefs came from the kitchen and expressed their pleasure at our visit and wished us Godspeed. In going about this old city, I was greatly shocked by the ruthless and wanton destruction which it had suffered at the hands of the Germans. One out of every four houses had been injured and one out of every ten houses was entirely destroyed. Many of the former beautiful residences were but masses of twisted iron, plaster, brick and broken tile. A deep shell-hole made by a three-hundred-and- fifty-millimetre shell in the pavement at the inter- section of several streets had completely destroyed most of the houses in the neighborhood. Some were unroofed, while the side walls of others filled the streets. The city was occupied by the Germans on Sep- tember 5, 1914, and after holding it for seven days [144] RHEIMS IN RUINS TTHE ruins of Rheims, the result of Kultur in action. German shells, directed at the noble cathedral in the background, wrecked vast areas of this, one of the quaintest and loveliest of the larger cities of France. Although for weeks the gunners of the enemy strove to utterly demolish the cathedral, the main part of the magnificent structure still stands, and casts the shadow of its great glory on the surrounding waste. RHEIMS AND ITS DESECRATED CATHEDRAL they evacuated on the I2th. It was on the 19th of September that they shelled and fired the cathedral. Of the one hundred and eighteen thousand in- habitants before the war, many had been killed and wounded, many had taken up their residences in southern cities, and at the time of our visit there were but twelve thousand left, most of whom still lived in the cellars of their homes. As we passed the venerable Church of St. Remi, which was built in the eleventh, twelfth and thir- teenth centuries, we learned that the clock in the tower stopped on Sunday afternoon at five thirty- five, when the bombardment of the city began, although neither the clock nor the tower were touched by shell. This church contained many beautiful twelfth-century glass windows and some historical tapestries. The church had once been attached to an important abbey, which for years had been used as a hospital. This hospital was shelled by the Germans with incendiary bombs and destroyed by fire. The patients who were too ill to escape through their own efforts were safely removed before the roof fell. The building was a very old one. In the first-story lobby I saw the names of some of the early benefactors, opposite [147] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE which were engraved the dates "1487" and "1492." Upon their entrance into the city the Germans printed and posted notices to the effect that they had arrested and locked up in the Prefecture one hundred prominent citizens of Rheims (among them our host, Robert Leuthwaite), and in case any citizen fired on the troops these hostages would be marched to the square and shot. *'I can scarcely call that week in September, 1914, the happiest in my life," dryly remarked Mr. Leuthwaite. "I expected at any moment that some indignant citizen would take a shot from his window at a strolling officer and thus abruptly end my plans for the future." With painful forebodings I approached the great cathedral. I dreaded to see what I had already learned — that it was damaged beyond repair. From a little distance the exterior damage did not seem serious, but on close inspection the real results of the abominable crime were laid bare. The upper roof had been completely burned off but the vaulted stone roof, though pierced here and there by gaping shell-holes, remained intact and apparently in good condition. The five hundred and thirty large statues which adorned the three exquisite recessed portals of [148] RHEIMS AND ITS DESECRATED CATHEDRAL the west fa9ade, perhaps the most beautiful struc- ture produced in the Middle Ages, have either fallen to their destruction or have been burned so badly that all traces of features and drapery have been effaced. The splendid statues in the niches crowning the wonderful flying buttresses have been destroyed and many of the buttresses ruined by the parapet walls falling upon them. The explosion of the incendiary shells and the consequent interior fire utterly smashed and melted all of the matchless thirteenth-century windows. While the Germans occupied the city, the cathedral was used as a hospital. The chairs and other furniture were piled high against the walls and the floor was covered deep with straw. When the shells exploded in the interior, the straw blazed and the thousands of chairs and the priceless carved woodwork of the choir burned fiercely. In the fiery furnace was consumed all but the memory of some of the most noted examples of stained glass, wood and stone carving that the world contained. The west fagade, built in the fourteenth century, was the finest part of the building. It had been undergoing repairs for a number of years and the [149] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE heavy wooden scaffolding around the north tower made a consuming fire which destroyed the carved moulding, niches and turrets, together with the many statues which they held The south tower, containing the two famous great bells — the one called *^ Charlotte" weighing eleven tons — was damaged far less than its sister tower. The fine tapestries and paintings, among the latter the famous ones by Tintoretto and Nicolas Poussin, had, thanks to Heaven, been removed to a safe place before the invasion. A feeling of deep depression possessed me as I walked down the nave of this once noble church, now desecrated by men who claim the pinnacle of culture. In its melancholy ruin it seemed like the corpse of a great evangel whose soul had departed. Numerous pigeons were wheeling in and out through the glassless windows and circling about in the remote shadows of the arched stone ceiling one hundred and twenty feet above the eye. A pure-white feather, like a great snowflake swirling in the cold, shifting currents of air, settled softly at my feet. "Would to God," I thought, "it had dropped from the dove of peace on its way to the peoples of a war-mad world." [ISO] THE MAIMED CATHEDRAL OF RHEIMS A X example of architectural exquisiteness which '^ fell before the guns of Kultur. Torn by German shells, scarred and bleeding, the Ca- thedral of Rheims, magnificent heritage of Middle Ages artistry, has taken on a new and more solemn grandeur. But the splendid statues are destroyed or burned beyond recognition, the matchless Thirteenth Century windows have been melted in the fiery furnace of Hunnish incendiar- ism, and the priceless carved woodwork is a mass of charred ruins. RHEIMS AND ITS DESECRATED CATHEDRAL The bronze figure of Joan of Arc sitting astride her horse in the square in the front of the cathedral has miraculously escaped the shells of each bom- bardment. The people beheve that the preserva- tion of the statue is an omen of great good and that the spirit of the inspired woman who led the French armies to victory in the Fifteenth Century shall save France from her enemies in the present war. The Archbishop's Palace, built at the beginning of the Sixteenth Century and occupied since that time for short periods by the kings of France before their coronations, has been completely destroyed. It v/as possible to discern only by a portion of wall left standing where the royal banqueting room, the hall and the library had been. In spite of the many storms of bursting shells the old hotel on the square opposite the cathedral remained intact and was carrying on "business as usual.'' However, its exterior plastered walls were gashed and plowed by shell fragments and the roof tiles smashed in many places. Many of the fine old houses which had made Rheims a mecca for the antiquarian have been destroyed. However, the celebrated House of the Musicians, built in the Thirteenth Century, was [IS3] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE easily identified in the Rue Tambour by the figures of seated musicians carved in reHef on its front. It fortunately was not injured. Rheims was selected in 1874 ^^ ^^^ of the chief defences of the northern approaches to Paris and a chain of detached forts was begun in the vicinity. The forts, nine in number, formed a circle about six miles from the city, occupying a perimeter of twenty-two miles. It is therefore easy to see the reason for the continued activities in this sector since the beginning of the war. The old city has been a centre for the wool industry from the earliest times and was considered the chief wool market of France. Combing, card- ing, spinning and weaving of flannels and woolen goods have been its chief industries, although the manufactures of champagne and machinery, chem- icals, soaps and paper were very important. The caves of the Piper Heidsieck Company, one of the largest manufacturers of champagne in Rheims, established as long ago as 1735, were in no way harmed by the bombardment, though six of the workmen lost their lives in the courtyard by the explosion of a single shell a few days previous to our visit. The caves or galleries which have been hollowed [154] A BATTLE-SCARRED CHURCH IN ALSACE TTHE battle-scarred ruins of the Interior of one of the churches in Thann, Alsace. The Prus- sian guns have long since proved to be no re- specters of persons, things or religious creeds. RHEIMS AND ITS DESECRATED CATHEDRAL out of the chalk formation are three stories in depth, the lowest one forty feet below the street level, and in these galleries which wind about underground for a distance of eight miles are stacked thousands of casks and hundreds of thousands of bottles. The side walls glitter and glisten from the damp floor to the arched white roof as the bottles catch the light of our torches. Who could blame the poor citizens for taking refuge in these wonderful cellars when the first shells began to fall upon the city? Thirty-five hundred old men, women and children rushed down the rough-hewn steps at the beginning of the bombardment and stayed for days in the dark or in the meagre light of a few candles, waiting for the storm of shells to cease. As time went by and it was found impossible to properly feed and care for these people, the company appealed to their patriotism and urged them to leave. "You cannot remain here; you will starve if you do," they were told by the managing director of the company. "Your sons, your brothers and your fathers are fighting for their country in the trenches and you are sorely needed to help in a thousand ways. Go back to your homes and help win the war for France." [157] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE But it was all to no purpose; fear supplanted reason, and only when the general in charge of the troops in the city sent soldiers to expel them did these poor people come up into the light of day, regain their courage, and assume the duties which, ever since, they have so loyally performed. It is not difficult to understand the stories of the orgies which occurred while the Germans were in possession of the city of Rheims, particularly when one realizes that the full wine crop for the entire district is computed at 300,000 barrels; that the cellars described above and many others of smaller size were full of wine and that countless bottles of the best vintages were to be had for the taking. [158] DEMOCRACY OF THE TRENCHES ^OT the least interesting feature of this photo- graph shows the democracy of the trenches. French colonials from Africa are here fighting for France, the mother country, side by side with the poilu. And what a use for the garden wall, famed in song and fable! CHAPTER X In the Trenches A FINE, drizzling rain was falling as we left the cellars and started for the outskirts of the town to visit the trenches. "There is scarcely a citizen in Rheims to-day who would undertake to go to the cross-roads for which we are heading/' remarked a member of the club who sat with me in the car. Although the city was very quiet and there was nothing to indicate immediate trouble, he evidently knew from past experience that the present peaceful conditions could change in a moment. The high road-screen hid us completely from the view of the Germans, but the danger of our posi- tion was quite evident from the long grass growing between the cobblestones, an indication that the road had been unsafe for travel for some time. Keener eyes than mine would have passed un- noticed the cleverly concealed emplacement con- taining a mighty howitzer and a battery of four "75's." "We are very proud of our French soix- ante-quinze-millimetre field-gun," smilingly ex- [ 161 ] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE claimed my companion as he pointed out the battery to me. "Twenty-five shots a minute can be fired by a single gun and they have thus far done the most effective work in the war. "A battery of four of these guns can fire one hundred three-inch shells a minute a distance of three miles. If properly placed, controlled and checked, they can, you understand, do considerable damage in a bombardment lasting five hours.'' Six officers and eighty men and the use of nearly two hundred horses are required to care for and support such a battery. Each of these eighteen-pound, three-inch shells contains four hundred and twenty-five shrapnel bullets, and is it not a wonder that in a five-hour bombardment in which thirty thousand shells are exploded, sending twelve million seven hundred and fifty thousand death-dealing bullets in all directions, any soldier in the neighborhood of the bursting shells lives to describe the battle ? The batteries are generally placed from two to three miles back of the infantry, and are so care- fully hidden that it is almost impossible for the enemy airmen to discover them. When it was nec- essary to place a battery in an open field, the efl^ect of a natural corner of a farm was created by the [162] THE EYES OF THE FRENCH 7o's ^ONCEALED in the luxurious foliage of ancient trees, these military observers scan the lay of the land, watching the movements of the enemy, and so direct the fire of the masked batteries. Thousands of v^enerable trees, such as this one, were ruthlessly destroyed by the Germans on their various retreating movements. IN THE TRENCHES aid of temporary fences, trees, shrubs and vines, and the guns perfectly concealed. As there is no smoke to betray the location, the flash from the muzzles is the principal evidence to hide. This is done by firing through screens which, without checking the shell, conceal the flames. The batteries fire over their own infantry and, by communications given by telephone from observation posts in the front, are able to drop their shells into the trenches and upon the batteries of the enemy beyond. Some little two-and-one-half-story brick cottages which we are passing have been battered to pieces and look miserable and forlorn in their dilapida- tion. In the flower and vegetable gardens in front and by the sides of the cottages, barbed wire twists about in riotous confusion, giving joy to the scarlet runner and climbing rose which believe it has been put there for their convenience and glory. Our automobiles, which had been traveling very fast, suddenly turned to the right and came to a stop a short way down a road running at right angles to the highway. A large screen across this road, hanging like a drop-curtain in a theatre, pre- vented our further progress. When we had alighted, the Colonel warned us not to show ourselves be- yond the screen, for the German first-line trenches [165] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE were but twelve hundred yards away, and we would be in plain sight of the German sharp- shooters. With a deal of care and little noise, we made our way through a hole in the garden wall behind a demoHshed cottage. Regardless of the havoc in which the German shells had left the place, a few late flowers were blooming, pathet- ically recalling the days when the trim little garden was filled with color and perfume; the espalier trees against the wall were laden with fruit. A broken parrot-cage, formerly occupied by the green-coated pet of the family, hung from its nail. From the rear wall, against which the little tool house had been built, a few bricks had been removed at intervals of every five feet for the use of sharp- shooters. Through the apertures we had a good view of the German trenches and of "No Man's Land" — that serpentine stretch of land which winds Its way up and down, in and out, over four hundred miles of country from Switzerland to the North Sea, and which is bordered by the German and Austrian armies on the one side, and the French, English and Belgian armies on the other. It is the only land on earth to-day where man hesitates to set his foot. In the gathering dusk we hurriedly pass through [166I IN THE TRENCHES a half-dozen gardens, in some of which the scythes, sickles, rakes and spades are hanging on their pegs in orderly array. The upper stories of the houses are entirely demolished; from broken windows, tattered lace curtains flap despondently in the rain like whipped sails on a deserted ship; and within the houses is piled a conglomerate mass of furniture, bedding and debris. A door creaks on its rusty hinges and in the cold rising wind the broken shutters rattle and slam. In the last garden we come upon the beginning of one of the communicating trenches and dropping into it follow a zigzag course towards the front. On account of the porous soil, the trenches in this sector are in splendid condition. Though it had rained for several days, the trenches are not muddy. They are clean and well drained. Hanging from over the top as from a continuous window-box are innumerable vines and grasses, brightened here and there by the flaming red poppy and the small purple aster. I pick a few of the blossoms and press them in my notebook as I pass along. From a machine-gun emplacement about fifteen hundred feet from the German first-line trench, we cautiously surveyed their position through our glasses. The long wavering line of light-colored [167] JUST BEHIND THE FRONT IN FRANCE earth easily marked the parapet of the enemy's trenches, but the absence of the sound or the sight of man or beast made it most difficult to believe that their trenches were occupied. As there had been no serious activity in this sector for some time, "No Man's Land," by the help of the recent rains, had developed into a beautiful garden-meadow — innumerable red pop- pies sprinkhng it as with drops of blood. Darkness enveloped us as we left the trenches and began our chilly ride back to Chalons. The red lanterns of the sentries stopped us at frequent intervals but we were quickly allowed to proceed and in due time arrived at our destination hardly aware of our cold and hunger, so absorbed were we in the thoughts and memories of our amazing and unique journey. We had comp to the end. This was our last day in the war zone. We had heard this war likened to a gladiatorial combat. But in ancient days the last farewell of the gladiator was, "We who are about to die salute thee!" The France we were leaving, a transformed France which, with quickened vision and new [i68] "NO MAN'S LAND" THAT WAS "■NJO MAN'S LAND" that was, French soil once more — the Marne, where was fought the great battle which turned the Huns definite- ly back from the very gates of Paris. Thou- sands of lives were spent to recover for France these few yards of shell-torn waste and sorry earth. A regiment of French infantry is making its way through ruined trenches to their own new first-line trenches in front of the foe. IN THE TRENCHES understanding, we had learned to love anew, was, we now knew, no mere gladiator. Rather, out of the ashes of invading ruin and colossal adversity, she comes reborn, a Phoenix among the nations. Even as we, departing, saw France, so will the whole world soon behold her — transfigured, glori- fied, unconquerable, deathless. Indeed, she lives because she cannot die. Is it any wonder that, as the tears welled in our eyes, from our hearts came with one voice our parting words, "VIVE la France — la belle France !' ' THE END [171] Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: ju|yj 2001 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 111 Ttwmson ParV Drive Cranberrv Townshio. PA 16066 Publje cU; FraXiCs MdesDANESFIUHCIIISES ROUGE FRANCAISE ar-h ;:*fe + LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 007 693 326 1