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diff --git a/old/44599-h/44599-h.htm b/old/44599-h/44599-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3eafef4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44599-h/44599-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3371 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beyond the Marne, by Henriette Cuvru-Magot. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .date {text-align: right; font-size: 80%;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .maintitle {text-align: center; font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +hr.chap {width: 65%} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + +.drop-cap { + text-indent: 0em; text-align: justify; +} +.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height: .5em; +} +@media handheld +{ + .drop-cap:first-letter + { + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; + } +} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beyond the Marne, by Henriette Cuvru-Magot + +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: Beyond the Marne + Quincy--Huiry--Voisins before and during the battle + +Author: Henriette Cuvru-Magot + +Translator: Katharine Babbitt + +Release Date: January 6, 2014 [EBook #44599] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND THE MARNE *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="350" height="600" alt="cover" /> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> + + +<div class='maintitle'>BEYOND THE MARNE</div> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"><a id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="374" height="600" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Mlle. Henriette Cuvru-Magot, from a recent portrait</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + + +<h1>BEYOND THE MARNE</h1> + +<div class='center'><big><i>Quincy—Huiry—Voisins<br /> +before and during the battle</i></big><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<small>BY</small><br /> +<span class='author'>HENRIETTE CUVRU-MAGOT</span><br /> +<br /> +<small>TRANSLATED B</small>Y<br /> +KATHARINE BABBITT<br /> +<br /><br /> +<small>ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS</small><br /><br /><br /> +</div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 95px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="95" height="122" alt="Emblem: Scire Quod Sciendum" /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +<small>BOSTON</small><br /> +SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY<br /> +<small>PUBLISHERS</small><br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1918<br /> +<span class="smcap">By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY</span><br /> +<small>(INCORPORATED)</small><br /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='center'>To<br /> + +MILDRED ALDRICH</div> + +<blockquote> +<p>"Will you allow me, Miss Aldrich, to +pay you the tribute of my admiration for +the lofty courage you have shown, and +to express to you my gratitude for the +comfort you have given my family during +these early days of September?"</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mademoiselle Henriette Cuvru-Magot</span>, +who, since the +early months of the war, has been +nursing the wounded at the Auxiliary +Hospital of <i>l'Union des +Femmes de France</i>, at Quincy, near +Meaux, lives in the picturesque village +of Voisins, a dependency of that +commune.</p> + +<p>Daughter of a superior officer who +played an active and brilliant part +in the war of 1870, granddaughter +of a Garde-du-Corps of Louis XVI, +she heard from childhood in her +home many tales of valiant deeds +performed by the French Army.</p> + +<p>And now, in her turn, wishing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> +complete the story of the glorious +past, witnessed by her father and +grandfather, by the story of the +heroic present, at which she herself +is an onlooker, she is about to tell us +what she saw from her modest cottage +at the very beginning of the +Great War, and trace to us a poignant +picture of the events which took +place under her eyes.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Cuvru-Magot began +her journal August 2, 1914, +thinking, of course, that she would +never know the war itself except +through the accounts given by our +soldiers when at last they should return.</p> + +<p>Five weeks later she was in the +midst of a battle, and that, of all +others, the Battle of the Marne.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + +<p>The real merit of these notes—all +too few, alas! since they leave off +on the morrow of the Victory of the +Marne—is not to be sought in the +military incidents recorded by Mademoiselle +Cuvru-Magot, though even +these have their importance, but +rather in the noble sentiments she +expresses, which stand out above +everything else, especially during the +heart-rending hours of the invasion. +In her village, cut off from the rest +of the world, she finds herself almost +alone with those who are most dear +to her—too weak to protect them, +powerless on the other hand to sacrifice +herself, to give all her strength, +all her sympathy to the soldiers +wounded in the battle that is being +waged there, a few steps from her +door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Cuvru-Magot was +kind enough to let me see her manuscript, +and at my earnest request has +consented to publish it.</p> + +<p>It is with interest and emotion that +we read these pages marked by ardent +faith and by an unfaltering +trust in the eternal destiny of our +country. And they are pages written +by a Frenchwoman who remembers +with just pride that she is the +daughter and granddaughter of +soldiers.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Georges Husson</span></span><br /> + +<i>Vice-President of the Literary and Historical<br /> +<span style="margin-right: 3em;">Society of Brie</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="left"> </td> +<td align="right"><span class="smcap"><small>Page</small></span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Mlle. Henriette Cuvru-Magot, from a Recent Portrait</td> +<td align="right"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Mareuil Road from Voisins to the Marne, the Ancient Pavé-des-Roizes</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Terrace of the Actors' Home at Couilly, established by Coquelin, who died here</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Condé</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Miss Mildred Aldrich</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Junction of the Marne and the Canal de Chalifert</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><i>Route national</i> from Couilly to the Demi-Lune</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Road leading away from the Château de Condé, across the Grand Morin</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wounded Soldiers at the Hospital of Quincy</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Condé</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Château in the Park of the Actors' Home at Couilly</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tomb of Coquelin</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">On the Banks of the Marne</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Home of Mlle. Henriette Cuvru-Magot</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h2>BEYOND THE MARNE</h2> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<h2>I</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +2 August, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>WAR is declared! Up to the last +minute I would not believe it. +Is such a thing still possible in this +century? Alas, yes! There is no +denying the facts.</div> + +<p>Even these last few days I felt perfectly +confident. We have been on +the verge of war so many times before +this, but the danger has always +been averted by means of diplomatic +parleys. I thought that in our day +and generation disputes were settled +in that way, without bloodshed, as a +matter of course. But now! It seems +to me we have just gone backward +several centuries!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + +<p>I did not realize the truth until a +little while ago when I took my +brother to the station at Esbly. He +is on his way to Paris to get his +mobilization orders. How I wish +I were a man and could go with him! +This is the first time in our lives we +have ever been separated, and under +what circumstances! How sad it is +to think that in every town and village +in France there is the same +anguish of farewells.</p> + +<p>The pealing of the tocsin is a +funeral knell that strikes terror to +every mother's heart.</p> + +<p>The great grief that has stricken +the earth is borne from village to +village on the church bells like a +single long sob.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>II</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +4 August, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>EVERY day some of the men +about here start for the front, +but it is at the Esbly station, where I +have just been, that the leave-takings +are the most heart-rending.</div> + +<p>The men are very grave, but they +start off without a complaint, without +a murmur. And if they are courageous, +the women who accompany +them, understanding fully their own +great duty, do not give way to their +feelings for a single instant. They +are determined that no tears of theirs +shall make harder the task of father +or husband. It is really sublime.</p> + +<p>Huge bunches and garlands of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +roses are twined over the cars. Here +and there is the vivid note of our +national bouquet of simple wildflowers—cornflowers, +daisies, and +poppies, scarce at this season. In the +cannon's mouth and on the gun-carriages +are branches of laurel.</p> + +<p>Inscriptions chalked on all the cars +bear witness to the good morale of +our troops.</p> + +<p>On the locomotive of a return train +we read:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Our souls to God,<br /> +Our blood to our country,<br /> +Our hearts to our women,<br /> +Our bodies to the wicked.<br /> +</div> + +<p>How very French that is!</p> + +<p>It is as if these trains, decked with +flowers and flags, were on their way +to a vast festival. When each train<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +comes to a standstill there is an impressive +moment of silence, broken +by cheers as it moves off.</p> + +<p>Although I was deeply stirred by +these departures, I stayed a long time +at the station, filled with admiration +at the ardor with which every man +answers the call of his country. It +is a sight never to be forgotten.</p> + +<p>On the way home from the station, +I meet a friend whom I have known +a long time, a good man who is +father of a family. In order to spare +his wife and children the worst of the +farewells, he has insisted on going +alone to the station. He asks permission +to embrace me. "I have +known you since you were such a +little tot, Mademoiselle." Of course +I consent willingly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Highways as well as railroads +are being used for transporting men +and supplies. Auto-buses, delivery +wagons of Paris shops—the Bon +Marché, Galéries Lafayette, Printemps, +still bearing their signboards +and advertisements—go by on the +road to Meaux, carrying munitions +(at least we imagine so). They are +tight shut, and, to judge by their dull +rumble, heavily laden.</p> + +<p>Just as I reach the outskirts of +Quincy, I see a group of men armed +with pitchforks and sticks coming +down the road. Farther on, a lady +with white hair is holding a Browning +aimed at the sky.</p> + +<p>What is happening?</p> + +<p>I learn that an automobile driven +by Germans and flying the Red Cross<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +flag has been signalled. The order +has just come by telephone to try to +stop it.</p> + +<p>The constable is blockading the +road with carts, planks, and farming +implements. I immediately start +back to Voisins, and urge everyone +I meet to do likewise.</p> + +<p>In the distance an automobile coming +at a rapid pace from the direction +of Couilly stops suddenly at the sight +of the barricade. The little group of +armed civilians approach.</p> + +<p>It is too far away for me to make +out anything more, but I see a second +automobile, driven at top speed, slow +down, and then swiftly wheel about. +In my anxiety to give the alarm in +Voisins, I do not notice which way +it goes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 376px;"> +<img src="images/i025.jpg" width="376" height="600" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">The Mareuil Road from Voisins to the Marne, +the ancient Pavé-des-Roizes</div> +</div> +<p>At Voisins no automobile has been +seen, but barricades are erected, +nevertheless. While I am answering +the questions people ask me about +this automobile story, I suddenly +notice some marks scratched on the +wall of the house in front of which +we are standing, at the corner of the +roads to Huiry and Voisins.</p> + +<p>The drawing looks like a map, and +has an arrow beside it. It must have +been made a very short time ago, and +looks as if it were made with a nail or +the point of a knife. The blades of +grass underneath are still covered +with the fine powder and plaster that +fell from it.</p> + + + +<p>The arrow points towards Pavé-des-Roizes, +and, on studying the +lines, we think someone was trying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +to point out the road to Couilly—Mareuil +Street, the road of Champ-Madame +(going from Demi-Lune to +Huiry), Huiry Street, Condé Street, +and once more Mareuil Street (or +Pavé-des-Roizes).</p> + +<p>We dare not say to each other what +is in our minds. It occurs to one of +us to follow the direction of the arrow, +and, to our surprise, we find +other arrows leading all the way to +the Marne. What is more, they are +all newly made. Some of them point +in the direction of Paris, and have the +word "Paris" written in large letters +underneath. Was the auto to reach +Meaux by going through Mareuil in +case the State road was cut off? Even +along the State road there were +several guiding marks. On the blinds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +of a farmhouse just outside of Quincy +is a large arrow, pointing downward +towards the German colors.</p> + +<p>We were unable to find out what +became of this automobile. The first +one that was stopped—thus allowing +the second to escape—was that +of a French general, who was doubtless +obliged to give numerous proofs +of his identity in the course of an +hour.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>III</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +8 August, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>TO-DAY our gas and water supplies +were cut off! The town-crier +announces that people are forbidden +to circulate on the high roads +between 6 <small>P.M.</small> and 6 <small>A.M.</small>, and that +foreigners in the commune are not to +leave it under penalty of immediate +arrest.</div> + +<p>A home guard has been organized, +which is to be armed and patrol the +streets at night.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>IV</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +20 August, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THE efforts to find the automobile +signalled on the 6th were +perhaps not without success. We +were told to-day that an automobile +with nuns in it had been seized. A +child happened to call attention to the +size of the nuns' hands, and it was discovered +that they were no other than +two German officers. Their automobile +contained a large quantity of +powder.</div> + +<p>These Germans were shot at Lagny +almost immediately, I am told, but +of this I am not positive, as I know it +only by hearsay.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>V</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +30 August, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>TRAIN loads of wounded keep +passing through Esbly. We all +flock to the station, in the hope of +bringing back good news. Alas, +nothing comes but great numbers of +refugees and wounded. The hospital +installed in the waiting-room of the +station is not large enough to care for +all the wounded and provide comforts +for the refugees. There are +many young girls, but not enough +to attend to all these unfortunates. +While some of us are busy dressing +wounds, others hasten to carry sandwiches +and drink to the refugees on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +the trains, many of whom have had +nothing to eat or drink for twenty +hours.</div> + +<p>Trains do not stop long enough at +the station to allow the women of the +Red Cross to go through all the cars. +Even though it is against the rules, +we reach the platform from the railroad-crossing +and distribute fruit, +bread, and chocolate to the children.</p> + +<p>Our brave soldiers, for all their +wounds and their weariness, look +confident, and the ones we are able to +approach assure us that they do not +doubt our victory for a single instant. +They have seen it. I can read it in +their eyes.</p> + +<p>How I long to be useful in these +tragic hours! It is the duty of +everyone to the full measure of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +strength. No effort to help, however +small, is unimportant.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, the hospital at +Quincy is not yet completely organized, +but meanwhile a branch has +been fitted up at the railroad station. +I am assigned to the Quincy hospital, +and so am obliged to wait until it is +opened.</p> + +<p>There are moments when I could +weep at not being able to do as much +as I should like to relieve all this +suffering—to give of my strength +since I cannot give of my purse. I +want to start for the hospitals near +the front, but my mother absolutely +forbids it.</p> + +<p>I wrote to Bishop Marbeau asking +to be allowed to work in one of his +hospitals. He answers that Meaux<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +has no hospital as yet, but that he will +let me know in case there is any way +I can be of use. He sends with his +letter several packages containing +warm clothing and various useful +articles for needy soldiers of the +neighborhood. I am deeply touched.</p> + +<p>Quincy possesses a dispensary installed +by Madame Bruneau, mistress +of the château. This dispensary, +directed by a Sister of Mercy, Sister +Jules, is of great service to the civilian +population in time of peace. +Since war was declared, it has +been transformed into a hospital for +wounded or sick soldiers, and the +management entrusted to Madame +René Benoist, wife of the mayor of +the commune.</p> + +<p>This hospital has two branches—one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +at Pont-aux-Dames, in the +Home for Aged Actors founded by +Coquelin, the other at the Esbly +railroad station. From here the +wounded who arrive on the trains +will be taken to Quincy or Pont-aux-Dames.</p> + +<p>Doctor Pigornet of Crécy is in +charge of the medical service.</p> + +<p>So far no orders have been received +from the Sanitary Service assigning +wounded to either branch. We are +obliged to wait for these orders. +Each annex has its staff appointed. +Quincy is not entirely fitted up. +Pont-aux-Dames is organized, and +the branch at the station is already +at work.</p> + +<p>Trains keep rushing to the Eastern +frontier in an endless procession.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +The roar is incessant, especially at +night, and a dismal sound it is.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i037.jpg" width="600" height="372" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Terrace of the Actors' Home at Couilly, established by Coquelin, who died here</div> +</div> +<p>Refugees in even greater numbers +throng the roads. The towns on the +other side of the Marne are beginning +to be evacuated. It is a desolate sight.</p> + +<p>Old people manage with difficulty +to keep their balance on carts piled +high with household goods and fodder. +Young women walk, carrying +little ones whose eyes are wide with +fatigue and fright at all this commotion.</p> + +<p>Carts follow carts, crowded close +together in one long line. They come +from Liège, from Namur, from our +invaded regions of the North!</p> + +<p>In the midst of all these people in +vehicles and on foot, terrified cattle +jostle each other. Some that were in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +leading have broken loose; others, still +tied, cannot keep up, and let themselves +be dragged along. Sheep and +cows run about the fields or simply +stop where they are and begin to graze.</p> + +<p>As a result of the increasing difficulty +in taking their cattle with them, +peasants dispose of them for almost +nothing: a cow, forty francs.</p> + +<p>The hospital at Quincy, though it +cannot be of service to the wounded, +will at least, while waiting for them, +have cared for the unfortunate refugees. +It is distributing soup to three +hundred people daily, as well as milk +and other food and drink. Tired +women stop there to rest a little before +resuming their sad journey to +the unknown.</p> + +<p>They all have a tale of horror to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +tell—barbarous acts committed by +the Germans in the homes these +people are fleeing from—acts so +terrible that it is almost impossible to +believe them. One man tells us that +a young boy in his family had both +hands cut off by these wretches. +"This child," he said, "must have +been taken along this road. We +started out together, but I was so +tired and hungry that I stopped to +rest, and got separated from the +others. The Boches have destroyed +everything I possessed." (I have +made inquiries. People tell me they +saw at the Couilly bridge a little +boy of about seven with both arms +wrapped in bandages.)</p> + +<p>Supplies of food at the hospital +are beginning to give out. The town-crier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +is sent out to make an appeal to +the generosity of the citizens, and +once more the kitchen is filled with +food.</p> + +<p>The town-crier, in conformance +with instructions from the Prefect, +orders the civil population to carry +to the town hall any arms they may +have in their possession. Everyone +hastens to comply. In their panic, +people even carry the ancient arms +of their panoplies.</p> + +<p>All day long (and for several days +back as well) Boche aviators have +been flying over us, and seem to +be exchanging signals. They come +from the direction of Meaux, circle +about in large and small circles as +far as Voisins, from there they dart +in a straight line towards Paris, returning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +after rather a long flight, +still in a straight line in the direction +of Soissons, where we lose sight of +them. We have noticed this manœuvre +several times.</p> + +<p>I walked to Esbly this morning in +company with a lad of about fifteen +who has come with his mother to +take refuge in Condé. He told me +that, together with several friends +whom they brought with them in +their motor, they have been fleeing +before the enemy all the way from +Belgium. "We wanted to go to +Compiègne," he said, "but were advised +to come here instead, because +there was less danger. But here, no +more than elsewhere," he added, +after a pause, "are we safe. We +shall not stay. We leave to-morrow."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But," I asked, "what makes you +think we are in danger here?"</p> + +<p>"Look at all those 'planes. They +are Boche machines. They keep just +ahead of the army. At first we did +not pay any attention to them, but +since then we have found out what +it means. You may be sure their +troops are not far behind."</p> + +<p>I have decided to go to Paris. +There I shall find out what is really +happening.</p> + +<p>At the railroad station they are not +sure there will be a return train. +The service may be discontinued at +any moment. After considering +the possibility of having to return +on foot, I start out. Come what +may, I must see my family in +Paris.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>The trains are crammed with +people and stacked on top of each +other are bundles and boxes of all +shapes and sizes. From the boxes +come the whining of dogs, the +screeching of birds, and the mewing +of cats. It is indescribable.</p> + +<p>On the way back I have the luck +to get a train which takes seven hours +from Paris to Esbly, being side-tracked +all along the line to make +way for trains carrying wounded, +war supplies, or troops on their way +to or from the front.</p> + +<p>When I get back to Voisins I am +plied with questions by a number of +people who are anxiously awaiting +my return. I hardly dare give them +the news I have brought.</p> + +<p>I went to the Bank of France to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +see my uncle. He advises us to stay +where we are,—this in spite of the +fact that the government is being +moved to Bordeaux next Thursday. +The Bank is preparing to leave at +the same time. The courtyard of the +Bank is full of automobiles and railroad +delivery wagons, which, after +being loaded hastily, start out in +every direction.</p> + +<p>This news throws everyone into a +panic.</p> + +<p>English heavy artillery arrived +to-day. It came by way of Esbly, +and this afternoon has been taken up +to Coutevroult where the batteries +are being installed. Coutevroult is +on the slope opposite that of Quincy, +Huiry, Voisins. The Grand-Morin +flows between.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>If the Germans come to Quincy, +or the heights over opposite, we +shall be between two fires!</p> + +<p>We were awakened last night by +the tramping and neighing of horses. +The horses' hoofs seemed to have +been wrapped in something. The +sound was muffled.</p> + +<p>My mother and I called to each +other: "It is the Boches." Did they +hear us? The windows of our bedroom +open on the street. At any rate, +the pace quickened, and finally died +away in the direction of the ford—a +road leading to the Aulnois woods +behind our house, then to Pavé-des-Roizes, +communicating with the +Condé woods and the banks of the +Chalifert canal.</p> + +<p>We did not get up quickly enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +to find out what this expedition was +that was being carried on with so +much mystery. It is a great pity, for +the night was clear, and it would +certainly have been possible to see.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>VI</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +2 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THE King's Own Yorkshire +Light Infantry, commanded +by Captain Simpson, arrived at the +same time as the heavy artillery, and +is camping at Demi-Lune. The +regiment has retreated all the way +from Belgium and these brave men +have been fighting continually since +the Battle of Mons on August 23. +These are their first days of rest.</div> + +<p>Heavy ration trucks and hospital +ambulances, superbly appointed, line +the road.</p> + +<p>The soldiers are splendidly set up +and perfectly equipped. Spruce, +shining, freshly shaved, they are as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +clean and correct when they present +themselves to us as if they had just +stepped out of a bandbox. They are +very reserved in speech, and do not +talk much unless we question them. +Even so, we have to be careful not +to put indiscreet questions.</p> + +<p>On our asking: "Where are the +Germans?" "Far, far away," they +answer, with a wave of the hand. +They do their best to reassure us and +gaily begin whistling "Tipperary."</p> + +<p>Their coolness allays our fears.</p> + +<p>This afternoon the detachment of +Hussars stationed at Meaux marched +by. People were already uneasy, +and after that they were more than +ever convinced that it was time to +flee. This evening everyone is impatient +to be off.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i051.jpg" width="600" height="371" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Condé</div> +</div> +<p>Esbly is already evacuated. A few +Scotch troops are beginning to arrive +there.</p> + +<p>Neufmontiers, Penchard, Dammartin, +all the communes in the +immediate vicinity of Meaux, are +evacuated. Official records of real +estate, also birth, marriage, and death +registers, and the municipal archives +have been removed to the quarries +of Mareuil, along with the arms +deposited by civilians.</p> + +<p>Departures are growing more frequent. +People in Quincy are preparing +to go, likewise some of the +inhabitants of Voisins. The mayor +and the curé have already been +mobilized.</p> + +<p>Are we alone to remain behind?</p> + + + +<p>Before leaving, everyone wants to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +save his most treasured possessions. +Mattresses, beds, old furniture—the +most absurd and unlikely things—are +carried from one end of the +village to the other to be hidden in +the underground passages which +abound in Voisins and Huiry.</p> + +<p>Holes are dug to contain barrels +crammed with linen and household +goods. In all this extraordinary +activity there is very little reason or +method. People are half crazed. +They even hide furniture and various +other objects in the tunnels of the +plaster quarries!</p> + +<p>To abandon one's home seems like +deserting a friend. And yet we shall +have to consider it, for we may be +forced to go. I promised my brother +to see that his wife and children were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +removed to a place of safety in case +of danger. We are none of us terrified +as yet. Though I have a feeling +that the battle will not come as +far as this, I am doing all I can to +persuade my mother to leave. It is +only when I speak of the safety of +the children that I succeed in shaking +her determination to stay. Meanwhile, +the danger does not seem imminent, +and we keep putting off our +departure till the morrow.</p> + +<p>At the turning of the road that +leads from Demi-Lune to Voisins, +on the hilltop overlooking the valley +of the Marne, one of the humble +dwellings of the hamlet of Huiry +was transformed a few months ago +into a beautiful cottage. It is two +stories high, with a pointed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +irregular roof, but most graceful in +its whole effect. It is here that an +American lady came to live in the +early months of this year, hoping to +pass in this solitary spot calm and +peaceful days.</p> + +<p>Miss Aldrich, a woman of courageous +soul and great heart, is an +unspeakable consolation to the little +group of women who have remained +near her. Filled with the most generous +sentiments, giving lavishly of +her sympathy and guidance, she +charms all who come in contact with +her.</p> + +<p>I go to see Miss Aldrich every +day. Her conversation delights me +and her qualities of mind and heart +fill me with admiration. By her +force of character in the tragic hours<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +we are living through she helps us +to rise above emotions that at times +nearly sweep us off our feet.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 467px;"> +<img src="images/i057.jpg" width="467" height="600" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Miss Mildred Aldrich, the author of "A Hilltop on the Marne" +and "On the Edge of the War Zone." Riding in her cart behind +her donkey, Ninette, Miss Aldrich is a familiar figure in the country-side +round about "La Creste," her "house on the hilltop."</div> +</div> + +<p>If a bit of good news reaches her, +I am sure to see her come hurrying +down the hill towards our house to +talk over with us what she has just +learned.</p> + +<p>She is truly French at heart, and +knows just what to say to make us +feel the same confidence she feels +herself. If, before she came, we +were beginning to waver, we discover +after she has been here that we are +once more strong and brave.</p> + +<p>Will you allow me, Miss Aldrich, +to pay you the tribute of my admiration +for the lofty courage you have +shown, and to express to you my +gratitude for the comfort you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +given my family during these early +days of September?</p> + +<p>We learned from Captain Simpson +at Miss Aldrich's that German +patrols had crossed the Marne in +advance of the English. English +aviators have seen them. Can it be +that the horses we have been hearing +for several nights back belong to +these patrols?</p> + +<p>The soldiers of the King's Own +Yorkshire Regiment mount guard +until 6 <small>P.M.</small> in Voisins and also along +the canal that joins the Marne to +the Morin. At that time Captain +Simpson suddenly receives marching +orders and starts off at once in the +direction of Crécy. The Yorkshiremen +are promptly replaced by a +regiment of Bedfordshire Light Infantry.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>General French and the English +General Staff are at Villeneuve-le-Comte, +it is said. Motorcycle messengers +maintain communications +between the various English corps +that surround us.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>VII</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +3 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>SEVERAL days ago the hospitals +near Meaux received orders to +evacuate their wounded and equipment +to Orléans. The last train-loads +of wounded are to pass through +Esbly to-day. So, in spite of our +reluctance to leave, we shall have to +make up our minds to it.</div> + +<p>This morning, Madame Benoist +told us of these orders, and urged +us to leave, and, for the sake of the +children, as quickly as possible. The +Germans are advancing rapidly. +They are at Saint-Soupplets, she tells +us. She kindly offers us a horse and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +carriage, saying that it is almost out +of the question to take the train.</p> + +<p>The trains crawl along at a snail's +pace, gathering up everyone in their +path. Refugees wait all along the +track, and at the stations are jammed +together pell-mell in the midst of all +sorts of luggage and supplies.</p> + +<p>The station at Esbly is to be closed +and the hospital moved away.</p> + +<p>We accept Madame Benoist's offer +with gratitude, for we must make +sure that the children are safe.</p> + +<p>So we pack up hastily and load the +carriage, which we have no small +difficulty in finding, as it is haled +in every direction by people who are +trying to escape. Everyone is getting +more and more distracted.</p> + +<p>We start out without locking up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +anything, or even so much as closing +the doors. We can't help feeling +that we shall not go very far.</p> + +<p>Before being bestowed on us, the +horse has already made several trips +and carried heavy loads. He is +fagged out. After going a few steps, +he falls on his knees. We manage to +get him up. Will he start off again? +Certainly not. He plants his feet +firmly on the ground and puts up +a most lively resistance. We can't +make him budge an inch.</p> + +<p>The English are blowing up, one +by one, all the bridges around us, so +as to cut off the advance of the Germans. +After each explosion we begin +to dread the next one. They +shake the house and make the furniture +slide around. The people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +living near these bridges all had to +leave; the inhabitants of Condé are +taking refuge on our plateau, where +they can watch at a safe distance the +masses of stone hurled violently into +the air by the explosions.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i065.jpg" width="600" height="371" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">The junction of the Marne and the Canal de Chalifert, between Lagny and Esbly; the point +nearest to Paris where bridges were destroyed during the Battle of the Marne</div> +</div> + +<p>The Couilly bridge is as yet only +mined. The English will not blow +it up until they have crossed to the +other side, in case they are obliged +to retreat.</p> + +<p>Captain Simpson said that General +Joffre's orders are to make a final +stand at the Marne. His orders are +explicit on this point. If our troops +are forced back over the Marne, they +will fall back to the Morin, but the +enemy will not come that far, he +adds.</p> + +<p>This morning the English artillery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +placed batteries at the bottom and +top of Justice Hill, commanding the +town of Meaux. From the road-maker's +cabin where they have established +an observation post, likewise +from the roof of an isolated +house on the top of the hill, they +sweep the plain and direct movements +of troops. Road-maker Duchesne +is invited by the English to +look through their field-glasses, and +as the weather is very clear, he sees +the Germans arrive in close formation +and in great numbers beyond +Lizy, marching towards La Ferté-sous-Jouarre.</p> + +<p>Artillery and infantry are on the +move. Some of the troops have +halted and are camping. At this +moment a loud booming of cannon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +is heard in the direction of May-en-Multien, +Acy. But Duchesne cannot +make out anything in that +quarter, as it is in a valley cut off +by the heights of Monthyon and +Penchard.</p> + +<p>In the direction of Trilbardou +Chauconin, Neufmontiers, Penchard, +he sees French troops coming +up and taking positions.</p> + +<p>Presently, at two o'clock, the artillery +receives orders to start for +the forest of Le Mans, in an attempt +to check the Germans who are coming +down the hill and advancing +towards the forest. The German +troops seen near Lizy are marching +at this moment upon Mary, +Germigny-l'Evêque, Saint-Jean-les-deux-Jumeaux, +Montceaux, Villemareuil,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +Pierrelevée, on the way to +Coulommiers.</p> + +<p>English engineers continue to +blow up bridges. Between three +and four o'clock they blow up the +bridges of Trilport, the railroad +bridge, that of the State road, and +likewise that between Moulins and +Meaux.</p> + +<p>The Cornillon bridge, over the +canal, is mined.</p> + +<p>The last inhabitants have left +Meaux; they went by on the road +at the same time as a detachment of +infantry, falling back before the +enemy.</p> + +<p>As they go along they shout to us: +"They have blown up the bridges +behind us. The Germans are already +at Trilport!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But," asks a woman, "isn't there +any way of stopping them?"</p> + +<p>A lieutenant who heard her question +answers: "You might as well +try to stop the waters of the sea. +They pour in from everywhere—from +every highway and byway and +back-alley—a regular tidal wave. +Unless some miracle happens they +will be here by to-night."</p> + +<p>It is impossible, even if we wished +it, to leave by way of Esbly. There +are no more trains! Impossible to +leave on foot—the roads are choked +with troops and supplies. Moreover, +all the bridges are destroyed, +the bridge of Lagny along with the +rest. So we shall stay. God be +merciful to us!</p> + +<p>There is no more mail—not the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +slightest communication with the +outside. We are completely cut off +from the rest of the world.</p> + +<p>The new English General Staff +has taken up headquarters at the +château of Quincy. The English +are camping along State road number +36, between Quincy and Voisins.</p> + +<p>The roar of the cannon is coming +nearer and nearer. The sound electrifies +me. I cannot keep still, but +go back and forth from Quincy to +Esbly to get news, and more especially +to try to send news to my +brother. I seem to be the only +human being on the roads.</p> + +<p>What a feeling of sadness it gives +one to go through these empty villages. +Every house is like a tomb. +But those who have gone did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +take away everything. Their hearts +and souls remain behind, keeping +watch over all that memory holds +dear.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>VIII</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +4 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THE booming of cannon is still +very near.</div> + +<p>Scarcely anyone is left in the +neighborhood. The butcher has +gone. Fortunately, the baker is +staying, and as long as the flour holds +out we shall have bread.</p> + +<p>If this state of isolation lasts long, +it is proposed to kill and divide up +the pet horse to feed those who are +still here. Poor beast! I hope we +shall not come to that pass. I feel +a sort of gratitude to him.</p> + +<p>The few people still remaining in +Quincy and Voisins seem to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +one big family. We live almost in +common. The town-crier, Marin, +with the help of Pron, the road-maker, +kill and distribute an ox that +was left behind by a refugee. Mirat, +the carpenter, goes a long distance +now and again to get provisions of +some kind, and so renders us a very +great service. Everyone is doing +something to help everyone else,—holding +his neighbor by the hand, +as it were.</p> + +<p>But we must try to find some sort +of shelter, in case, owing to our position, +we should be exposed to a bombardment.</p> + +<p>Near by are deep spacious wine-cellars, +which with their massive +arches look like vast cloisters. We +prepare provisions and carry them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +to these cellars, so that we can take +refuge there if need be.</p> + +<p>One of my aunts said she knew +a very safe place where we could go +if for any reason we were obliged to +leave both the house and the cellar. +It is one of the most isolated nooks +in the plaster quarries, and is in the +form of a trench. It would be impossible +to find us there.</p> + +<p>But we shall have to give up that +"very safe place." My aunt came +in a little while ago much excited. +She has discovered that her hiding-place +is inhabited! And by whom? +By the Boches themselves! She saw +their heads emerging from this kind +of trench. They had carefully +covered their shining helmets with +grass. There were ten or more of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +them, and several cavalrymen farther +on.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i077.jpg" width="600" height="328" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption"><i>Route national</i> from Couilly to the Demi-Lune, a hard, straight hill, over a mile and a quarter long</div> +</div> +<p>Perhaps it would be prudent to +bury some of our things. I ask one +of our old friends to help me dig +a hole in the garden. We have +planned to dig it this evening.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, I go to the hospital +at Quincy, reaching there just as +Sister Jules and Sister Marie are +getting ready to go to Pont-aux-Dames. +Sister Jules has arranged +all her dressings and surgical instruments +with the most painstaking +care.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>The road is almost deserted, except +for an occasional refugee who +goes by on foot. The English are +digging trenches at Demi-Lune in +Mareuil Street, near the State road. +Trenches are being made also beyond +the Quincy plaster quarry, +near the road to Mont and at Ségy.</p> + +<p>There is an encampment in the +plain in front of the park of the +château. It is meal time. With +very evident pleasure the men are +eating raw tomatoes. They are also +taking great satisfaction in some +jam that looks most appetizing. The +jam comes in large cans decorated +with pictures of the fruit of which +it is made.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Every little while the earth trembles +under our feet. We now hear +cannon booming all around us.</p> + +<p>This morning I saw a man who +has just been to Meaux. He tells +me that as he was going along the +Magny road, in a place called +Pageotte, a German automobile +stopped in front of the demolished +bridge. An officer got out and +angrily inquired of several bystanders +if it was long since the +bridge had been destroyed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yesterday," they answered.</p> + +<p>"Then," said he, "what happened +to the patrol that was ordered to go +this way this morning?"</p> + +<p>"The men swam over, together +with their horses."</p> + +<p>Not being able to cross over himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +the officer ordered his chauffeur +to turn back. He was escorted by +two soldiers carrying rifles.</p> + +<p>This evening there is very little +bread in the neighborhood. I meet +a tall young Englishman looking for +bread for himself and his comrades. +I think there is some at home, so I +tell him to follow me. When we +reach the door, he refuses to come +in and I have to hand him the bread +through the window. We have very +little left. Will the baker make +more to-morrow? He carries off the +bread, but is especially happy at +being given some raw tomatoes. Always +tomatoes! There is nothing +you can give them that pleases them +so much. But you have to hand +them out through the window. One<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +of the men who speaks very good +French tells us they are under strict +orders not to go inside a house on +any pretext whatsoever. And they +obey implicitly.</p> + +<p>Another man comes and asks us +for a crucifix. He manages to explain +to me that he is engaged to be +married, that perhaps to-morrow he +will be killed, and he wants to send +a souvenir to his young lady. We +are glad to give him one. Before he +goes, he wraps up his parcel, and in +return offers to forward a letter to +my brother by one of their messengers.</p> + +<p>At nightfall a platoon of English +come down from Huiry to search +the Aulnois woods. Germans have +been seen there.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Part of the men are detailed to +beat the woods while the rest with +astonishing agility and suppleness +lie down on the ground and crawl +away to hide, either lying flat or +kneeling on the edge or inside of the +ditch by the road. (This road is the +continuation of Huiry Street towards +the Aulnois woods, and is +called Cat Lane.) If the Germans +are driven out of the woods they will +be obliged to go along this road.</p> + +<p>Our old friend kept his promise +to come to the house, and we +immediately set about preparing +the hiding-place for our treasures. +While he was digging in the garden +I heard very distinctly in the garden +next door, on the other side of the +wall, a dull thud that sounded like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +someone falling, then the same noise +a second time. Certainly two men +had jumped over the wall into the +garden. Our friend heard it too, +and motioned to me to know if he +was to continue. Keeping my eye +on the wall, I nodded to him to go on.</p> + +<p>Hearing nothing more, I was +tempted to go to the door in the +garden wall that opens on the little +woods to see if the English were +continuing their search, so as to tell +them to go into the garden next +door. I don't know why I did not +carry out this plan, unless because I +was too much absorbed in putting +the finishing touches to our hiding-place. +It was lucky for me, possibly, +for I might have found myself face +to face with the Boches. The noises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +we heard were very likely made by +two Germans jumping over the wall +to escape being caught. While the +English were watching for them in +the road, they reached the garden +from the rear, then Pavé-des-Roizes, +and from there slipped away in +single file in the direction of Demi-Lune. +(I learned this detail from +a woman who saw them.)</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1">[1]</a> After rendering various services during the +Battle of the Marne, the annex at Pont-aux-Dames +had to be closed. No official order came permitting +us to receive wounded there. This order did not +come until January, 1915, and then solely for Quincy, +which has been in operation since that date as Auxiliary +Hospital Number 112, under the intelligent and +devoted direction of Madame René Benoist, President +of the cantonal committee of the "Union of the +Women of France."</p></div></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2>IX</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +5 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THERE is no one left in the +streets. The place is deserted. +The English left this morning at +three o'clock. Cannon are raging.</div> + +<p>While we were at lunch a woman +stopped before our window a moment +in her flight and said to us, +"From your window you must be +able to see the firing of the cannon. +The light can be seen from here." +In fact, from the upper story we +can distinguish plainly a veritable +whirlwind of artillery. It is on the +plain of Monthyon that the firing is +the most sustained. Mingled with +the roar of cannon and the rattle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +machine guns we can hear men +shouting and trumpets sounding the +charge. They tell us it is our brave +Zouaves and our Moroccan sharp-shooters +who are down there in the +valley, while the enemy artillery is +on the hills. With the naked eye we +can see very plainly brown specks +advancing in columns.</p> + +<p>Shells are bursting three miles +from us as the crow flies. Black +and white tufts mount and spread +about in the air. Under these tufts +fires spring up, and farmhouses, +woods, and mills burst into flames.</p> + +<p>The fire and noise are hellish!</p> + +<p>We have in front of us the magnificent +panorama formed by the +heights of Monthyon and Penchard, +Chauconin, Neufmontiers; in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +background, Chambry and Barcy. +All these little wooded hill-tops +stand out like lace-work against the +clear sky. In the lowlands, on the +right of the valley, is Meaux, with +its cathedral towering over it; below, +in the foreground, winds the Marne; +between us and the river are the +great trees of the Aulnois woods and +our own garden.</p> + +<p>Can it be possible that in this +marvellous setting, in this peaceful +countryside and radiant sunshine, +men are killing each other? Each +of the combatants claims God on his +side. And yet, did not His messenger +on earth say: "Love one +another"? What have the sons of +men done with Christ's doctrines of +love—charity—peace?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>As long as time endures, in order +that ideals may live, must the earth +be drenched with blood and tears?</p> + +<p>What harvest will be garnered +from all this mowing down of tender +youth, cut off here before our +eyes?</p> + +<p>Oh, the crushing guilt that weighs +on the instigators of such a war, and +the terrible responsibility that is on +their heads!</p> + +<p>Civilization seems nothing but an +empty word, that no longer has the +slightest meaning. We are not, alas, +ripe for universal peace. And yet, +how happy nations could be if these +mountains of gold that are being +melted up for their destruction could +be used for their well-being! Shall +we ever attain to the ideal of peace?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +Perhaps, but before that time what +suffering will be ours!</p> + +<p>For the present, we must drive +out the invaders, thrust back this +cursed and ambitious people which +has long been preparing for war, +and reduce it to impotence. Our +brave soldiers are setting at the task +body and soul.</p> + +<p>All political parties have put aside +their differences and, for the sake of +the common cause, are walking hand +in hand.</p> + +<p>May victory keep and strengthen +this spirit! It would be the first step +on the road to happiness.</p> + +<p>While the battle rages before us, +our prayers go out to the heroes who +are suffering and dying so near at +hand. Each cannon-shot, as we think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +of the bloody trail it ploughs in its +path, is like a stab in the heart.</p> + +<p>And my thoughts are with the +wounded as they try to crawl out of +reach of bullets, huddling in a furrow, +crouching behind a bush. Some +of them with their little remaining +strength write on the back of an old +envelope their last farewells.</p> + +<p>The vision of my brother rises before +me. He is bleeding, near unto +death. He calls for help. Every +movement that he makes wrings +from him a groan. By a superhuman +effort, goaded on by the thought of +his children and his longing to see +them again, he succeeds in dragging +himself to the banks of the Marne, +in the hope of finding help. To +assuage his fever he tries to dip his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +hand in the cool water. But his arm +refuses to obey. His hand is rigid. +No one to aid him. Shattered, weak, +he lies there waiting—waiting for +the help that never comes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i093.jpg" width="600" height="358" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">The road leading away from the Château de Condé across the bridge over the Grand +Morin, looking away from the château</div> +</div> + +<p>I am in despair. Surely there are +wounded men in agony on the banks +of the Marne.</p> + +<p>If anyone would go with me, +perhaps we could organize some +sort of relief work. But how are we +to get to the other side of the river? +All the fishing boats, even the wash +boat, have been sunk by the English. +Can we do nothing but stand waiting +here—useless—helpless?</p> + +<p>My brother's little girls are playing +peacefully at our side. Like +them, we are calm. Not for a moment +are we afraid. Without saying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +a word to each other, we seem to +think the same thoughts, and we +remain at our post until evening, +with full confidence. But our emotion +is very great.</p> + +<p>To what merciful providence do +we owe our certainty that the enemy +will not reach us, and the tranquillity +with which we await the end of this +tragedy? I confess that I do not +understand.</p> + +<p>One by one the stars break through +the veil of darkness that comes down +gently upon us. Now myriads of +stars are shining in the heavens.</p> + +<p>It is eleven o'clock. Houses are +in flames, and forests. Here and +there in the distance camp-fires are +burning and trench-rockets burst in +showers, making the valley seem like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +a great fiery furnace, an ocean of +flame.</p> + +<p>How insignificant are our own +troubles in the presence of these +heaped up ruins, this destruction of +men and things!</p> + +<p>On the highest tree of the Aulnois +woods I have just seen a little light, +square in shape, which alternately +appears and disappears.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>X</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +6 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>MY first thought this morning +was to find out what the light +was that I saw last night. I recognized +the tree from which it came, +and discovered that several branches +had been cut to make it easier to +climb. At the very top an opening +has been made where the light was +evidently placed. The leaves just +above are scorched. Underneath, a +big branch, fastened across between +two other branches, forms a platform. +To whom can I report this +discovery? There are no soldiers +left in the neighborhood.</div> + +<p>The booming of cannon kept up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +all night long, though it was not so +loud as during the day. Before sunrise +it began again in full force.</p> + +<p>The same sights as yesterday.</p> + +<p>The noise of the cannonade, +though still very violent, seems to +be shifting and going farther away. +Can it be that our soldiers, after a +hundred years, are going to repeat +nearly in the same spot the strategy +of Napoleon, who saved Paris by +cutting off Blücher's army—that +terrible Blücher, who likewise made +his name a by-word by his vandalism? +We have before us his worthy +descendants—Von Kluck and Von +Bülow. Nor will they break +through. I feel more and more +sure of it.</p> + +<p>On our left are the army of Maunoury<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +and the Moroccan troops; +immediately behind us, the English +Army under General French, and +the French under General Franchet +d'Espérey.</p> + +<p>To-day I saw some Uhlans! They +are beginning to venture out of their +hiding-places, knowing that they can +do so with perfect security. I met +them on the road at noon. They +had just been to Couilly to get their +horses shod. Their uniforms look +very much like those of the English, +but are more greenish in tone.</p> + +<p>They went along at a jog-trot, with +their lances under their left arm, +point downward. They passed by a +few yards from me, intent on examining +the château. Two or three +of them glanced at me indifferently.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>This patrol disappeared over the +hill to the right of Quincy. Others +(or else the same ones) were seen +during the day at Huiry, where, +with their staff maps spread out before +them, they inquired the name of +the commune where they were, and +also asked for water for their horses.</p> + +<p>This evening a patrol of the 3d +Hussars is looking for them.</p> + +<p>Several nights ago, Delautre, the +store-keeper at Demi-Lune was +awakened by a loud knocking at his +door and on his shutters. The visitor +got no answer, so he went away to the +other houses in the place. Delautre, +who cautiously opened the blind a +crack, heard someone say: "They have +all cleared out. They must have got +cold feet. We shall see to-morrow."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>Very early the next morning two +men appeared at Delautre's house +and said to him: "You were at home +last night. Why didn't you answer? +If we had felt like it we could have +come in without knocking. We know +your house. You have a back door +that's easy enough to open." With +that they pushed by him and walked +in.</p> + +<p>One of them went on with a sneer: +"Ha, so you're scared of the Boches, +are you? Well, I'll give you a +chance to see a few." He went out, +put up his hand as if to give a signal +in the direction of the château, +and Delautre saw several horsemen +emerge from behind the wall of the +park. They came galloping up to +Delautre, making their horses prance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +about on the grass for his special +delectation. They laughed heartily +at his dismay.</p> + +<p>The two civilians demanded +drinks for everybody, and after exchanging +a few words in German +with the one who seemed to be the +leader, they started down the Couilly +hill, waving and nodding to the +cavalry men; the latter, after watching +them a minute, and waving back, +galloped off towards Moulin-à-Vent, +keeping along the park wall.</p> + +<p>Delautre is terrified by this visit. +One of these men is not a stranger +to him. When he is questioned, he +is unwilling to give other details +than the ones above, saying that +people would be too amazed if he +let it be known who this man was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +He has been entreated to tell, but he +always refuses.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk to me about that +patrol," Delautre<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> would say every +time anyone mentioned it. "I cannot +believe what I saw with my own +eyes. I think of it constantly. After +the war I will speak, and either that +man or I will have to leave this +place."</p> + +<p>Were there several patrols?</p> + +<p>I think so, for Monsieur Damoiseau, +a citizen of Voisins, had the +same adventure as my aunt, this time +near the oak woods, above the Mareuil +quarries. He also went there +in the hope of finding a hiding-place +for his family.</p> + +<p>On the plateau (over opposite the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +one where my aunt went) he saw +five German soldiers observing the +plain of Iles, and several others +watching the road to Quincy. The +hill where they were stationed overlooks +Voisins and Quincy on one +side, and on the other the plain which +a few days later was to witness the +Battle of the Marne. Not knowing +whether to go forward or back, +Monsieur Damoiseau stood stock +still. The Boche who was in command +asked in perfectly good French +what he was doing there.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i105.jpg" width="600" height="375" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Wounded soldiers at the hospital of Quincy. The author, with her friend Miss Mildred +Aldrich by her side, stands in the back row</div> +</div> + +<p>"Officer," he replied, "they tell +me the Germans are coming, so I am +trying to find a place where my +family and I can hide."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you aren't on a +spying expedition for the English?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know there were any +English about here."</p> + +<p>"Well, there are. I know it +whether you do or not. But where +do you live?"</p> + +<p>"In Voisins, the little village you +see yonder in the valley."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know the place. Well, be +off, and don't let me catch you +around here again, or I'll shoot +you."</p> + +<p>The poor soul didn't need much +urging, but took to his heels and ran +home as fast as his old legs could +carry him, telling his wife and +daughter not to stir out of the house.</p> + +<p>Every morning people discover +that rabbits or chickens are missing. +Several garden-gates have been +forced open, and palings torn away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a><br /><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +The German patrols go out at night +to water their horses and get food. +They have been seen several nights +crossing the ford at Voisins.</p> + +<p>This evening the battle lasted +until nine o'clock.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2">[2]</a> Delautre died suddenly eighteen months later.</p></div></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2>XI</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +7 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>ABOUT seven o'clock this morning +English scouts arrived belonging +to General Snow's division. +For two whole days we had been +alone, almost forsaken, it seemed to +us. It's joy to see those khaki uniforms +once more.</div> + +<p>They are as correct and as gentlemanly +as ever, our friends the English. +A young officer is kind enough +to give us news, and good news, too. +The Germans are beginning to fall +back. Already a pontoon-bridge +has been thrown across the Marne at +Meaux. After trying to cross sixteen +times, and sixteen times seeing their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +efforts of no avail, the Germans gave +up the attempt to cross the river. +The French General Staff has already +arrived there, and Galliéni's +army is advancing from Paris.</p> + +<p>All this good news fills us with joy.</p> + +<p>From now on we shall see no more +Germans.</p> + +<p>Troops are beginning to arrive. +A regiment of infantry went through +Voisins this afternoon. These men +have come on foot from Paris. +What a fearful march! They still +have several miles to go before +reaching a cantonment. Some of +them drag themselves along painfully, +their faces streaming with +perspiration, their legs tottering +under their weight, staggering like +drunken men. Others, with a show<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +of cheerfulness, hum marching songs +to keep up their courage, but what +a monotonous sound it is!</p> + +<p>They are hot and thirsty, poor +boys! They need something to drink. +We go out with a pitcher of fruit +syrup and water. They are not allowed +to stop, so we follow on beside +them and fill their cups which they +take out hastily as soon as they catch +sight of us. It seems to please them +and renew their courage.</p> + +<p>My little nieces are with us. The +eldest, aged three, is holding up fruit +which she takes from "Gamma's +ba'ket." One of the men, as if to +find new strength in the touch of her +fresh childish cheeks, asks if he may +kiss her, saying with tears in his eyes: +"I have a little girl of my own at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +home about her age, with light hair +like hers." Several of the men kiss +her as they march along, and it makes +them happy.</p> + +<p>Poor things! Will they ever see +again those little ones of whom our +children remind them?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>At the same moment, in a far-off +home, the mother presses close to +her breast her youngest born, who is +asleep. The child stirs slightly. A +gentle breath moves her fair curls. +Do not waken, little one. Thy father +kisses thee.</p> + +<p>The mother's face is growing +worn. The sister is silent. The +bride-to-be is on her knees. They +all have but one thought—the +Absent One!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>How many among those men who +are marching by will see their own +again?</p> + +<p>Alas! Many of these women, +these mothers, these sisters, will all +their lives remain fixed in the same +attitude—waiting. By force of habit, +through the long years, each of +them will keep her ear strained for +the footsteps on the road, her eye +fastened on the door, hoping against +hope to see her loved one enter there.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The State road is full of troops, +marching in close formation. The +ranks extend from the foot of Couilly +hill as far as the eye can reach, in the +direction of Meaux, along the streets +of Voisins and Quincy. The 8th +Division of the 4th Army Corps, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +115th, 117th, and 124th regulars, +the 148th, 246th, etc., cavalry goes +towards Charny.</p> + +<p>A captain asks me to show him +the road to Saint-Fiacre. While I +give him the information he wants, +I walk along a moment beside his +horse. This movement of troops +interests me.</p> + +<p>Before leaving me, he expresses +his surprise that I should be here all +alone, and asks if I am not afraid.</p> + +<p>"No," I answered, "I am not +afraid. Perhaps I shall be, later. +Do you think, Captain, that there is +still danger? The Germans are falling +back, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but who can tell? Tomorrow +you might see very ugly +things. They are not far away yet."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They evacuated Penchard yesterday, +didn't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and they left behind them +unspeakably foul traces of their +Kultur."</p> + +<p>"But, Captain, seeing all these +troops here reassures me. We were +two whole days without setting eyes +on a soldier. That was the time to be +afraid. All the troops you are bringing +up will drive them back still +further. And besides, Captain, if +danger threatened, wouldn't these +troops insure the escape of the civilians +who are left?"</p> + +<p>"If it were in their power, certainly."</p> + +<p>"But, Captain, let me say again, +I have faith in your soldiers."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right," he said, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +he shook hands with me and wished +me good luck.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i117.jpg" width="600" height="339" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Voisins-Quincy. Rue de Condé</div> +</div> + +<p>"For my part, Captain, I am sure +good luck will go with you."</p> + +<p>The 117th stopped at Voisins. +The soldiers are billeted everywhere, +but preferably in the few houses that +are still inhabited.</p> + +<p>This regiment, which made the +retreat from Belgium, has just come +on foot from Asnières where it had +been sent to recuperate. Several of +the men with bleeding and blistered +feet stop me in the street to ask if I +can give them socks. Unfortunately, +I have none. All I can offer them is +women's stockings, linen bandages, +and talcum powder.</p> + +<p>For several days Boche aviators +have been reconnoitring above us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +One of them was only a hundred or +two feet up, directly over the heights +of Huiry. We thought he was going +to land. He looked like an immense +bat.</p> + +<p>This evening another one came. +The soldiers were just building their +fires to cook dinner, when the command +was passed along: "Stand +close to the walls." The street, +which a minute before was swarming +with people is, to all appearances, +empty and deserted, nothing +but a single row of men on either +side, standing close to the houses.</p> + +<p>A platoon in a back street fires +several times with machine guns. +We watch anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It's hit," someone shouts.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, the 'plane gives a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +lurch and is certainly going to +fall.</p> + +<p>It is out of control.</p> + +<p>But this was nothing but a trick. +Once out of reach, it righted itself +and shot straight forward in the +direction of Coulommiers, where +they say the Crown Prince and his +staff are stationed.</p> + +<p>It was a great disappointment.</p> + +<p>The soldiers go on building their +fires, making little square ovens of +bricks. Rations have not arrived yet. +Some of the men, worn out, stretch +out on the ground to wait. It is +getting dark.</p> + +<p>The sight of these haggard men, +gray with dust, blowing on fires +which cast fitful gleams on their wan +faces, calls up visions of Dante.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>And still rations do not come. +The men are too tired to wait, and +lie down to sleep supperless in any +sheltered spot they can find.</p> + +<p>The few who are not completely +exhausted make a descent on the +houses that are inhabited. They fall +upon our garden and clean out our +larder. The salad bowl and kettles +not being large enough, they season +and mix a huge salad in tubs and +washboilers. It is all they will have +to eat this evening.</p> + +<p>Scarcely anyone was courageous +enough to wait for rations, which +were delayed by the block on the +roads and did not arrive until nearly +ten o'clock. Not a single man gets up.</p> + +<p>The battle lasted very late last +night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>The officers went up on the plateau +of Huiry to follow the artillery duel +that was in progress, and they found +it amazing.</p> + +<p>On one of my trips to-day I had +the good luck to meet one of the few +civilians. It is a man who has come +from Chelles on foot. He has heard +that Meaux, Crécy, Coulommiers +and all the neighboring villages have +been put to fire and sword. He +wanted to see his people who live in +this region. He had to swim across +the Marne, and was obliged to go +over and back several times in order +to bring his clothing.</p> + +<p>He is to return to Paris by the +same route. I gave him several +letters which he was kind enough +to take charge of. They are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +of great importance—mostly messages +to my friends from whom I +feel so cut off at this moment, but I +want very much to set my brother's +mind at rest as to the fate of his +children. The thought of his anxiety +makes me unhappy.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>XII</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +8 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>WE were up at four this morning. +The officers billeted in +the house were not expecting to +break camp until seven or eight +o'clock, but they were suddenly +roused by a messenger with orders +to start at once. A hasty breakfast, +and the signal for departure was +given.</div> + +<p>I run out into the wet grass of the +garden to gather all the roses I can +find. I hand them to the soldiers as +they leave us saying: "From your +mothers—from your sisters."</p> + +<p>Tears come into their eyes, poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +fellows! One of the officers takes +my hand, kisses it and says:</p> + +<p>"Your reminding us of our +mothers and sisters, Mademoiselle, +touches us deeply. It is with much +emotion that I tell you, in behalf of +my comrades and my men, who are +too moved to speak for themselves, +how grateful we are for the gracious +vision we shall carry away +with us to the battlefield with these +roses."</p> + +<p>I am afraid of breaking down, so +I turn away abruptly and go to distribute +fruit to the soldiers.</p> + +<p>Several weeks later I received +from the mother of one of them a +letter thanking me for the kindness +I had done in her name.</p> + +<p>No need to thank me, Madam. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +the face of the feelings that stirred +me at that hour—feelings that I +could not put into words—this act +was small indeed. Those brave boys +starting forth to face the cannon that +boomed so near at hand—how could +I make them understand that our +prayers were with them—followed +them? This poor makeshift was all +I could find to let them know at +this tragic moment that I longed to +serve as a bond between them and +their loved ones who were so far +away.</p> + +<p>I could not help thinking, too, +that if one of them were to fall, he +would at least have this little flower +with him, and so be less alone.</p> + +<p>We were just giving the last fruit +and flowers to the late-comers when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +one of them came to tell us he had +left a side of beef in a store-room. +"We haven't time to carry this meat +to the wagons, so if you do not take +it, it will be wasted. It would be a +pity if no one used it."</p> + +<p>What shall we do with it? And +to think of those hungry boys who +had no supper last night!</p> + +<p>We hardly know what to do with +this enormous piece of meat. But +to begin with, there's only one thing +to do. My aunt and I carry it with +great difficulty to a clean place and, +after a fashion, cut off steaks which +we broil rapidly and put between +slices of bread. The men take +eagerly all they can carry of these +meat sandwiches and start off on a +run to find their chums, who, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +say, are going to have a "bully old +time" eating them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i129.jpg" width="600" height="374" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Château in the park of the Actors' Home at Couilly. It was there that the commune's first provisional +hospital was set up where the English and the French were cared for after the Battle of the Marne</div> +</div> + +<p>Things strewn around everywhere +indicate the haste of the departure.</p> + +<p>The cannonade was very heavy +again last night.</p> + +<p>Yesterday—Monday—the battle +was stationary. To-day it seems to +be farther away; the firing is most +intense over towards the Ourcq.</p> + +<p>After ten o'clock this morning +there was not a single shot from the +enemy.</p> + +<p>The English came down from +Coutevroult this morning and have +crossed the Marne.</p> + +<p>The French cuirassiers found a +few Uhlans at Bouleurs, and cleared +them out.</p> + +<p>About two o'clock this afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +French soldiers marched past in the +direction of the Ourcq.</p> + +<p>In the ambulance of the 115th +regiment lay a poor boy suffering +with dysentery. They could not +take him farther, so he was left at +Quincy, where he died a few days +later in terrible agony. He is to be +buried in the Quincy cemetery.</p> + +<p>It was just as I thought. There +<i>were</i> wounded men who succeeded +in dragging themselves to the banks +of the Marne.</p> + +<p>Sister Jules was summoned to +dress the wounds of two Moroccan +sharp-shooters who managed to +crawl along by the river until they +were opposite the village of Condé. +There they were seen and picked up.</p> + +<p>The only horse and carriage left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +anywhere about was sent to Pont-aux-Dames +to fetch Sister Jules. +She was going through deserted +Couilly when a military automobile, +driven by two officers, came by and +stopped.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked +one of the officers in surprise.</p> + +<p>"There are wounded soldiers in +Condé. I am carrying dressings for +one of them and cupping-glasses for +the other, who has difficulty in +breathing."</p> + +<p>"Leave your carriage, Sister, and +get into our automobile. We will +have you there in five minutes."</p> + +<p>Sister Jules accepted readily, +thanking Heaven for sending her +the means to reach more quickly +the bedside of those who needed her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +care. When she began working over +her two wounded men, one of them +showed her triumphantly a bullet +he had just taken out of his foot +himself! The man speaks French +a little.</p> + +<p>Hussars on patrol on the hill at +Montpichet have killed Bavarian +soldiers, they say. A young Boche is +brought to Pont-aux-Dames. He is +wounded rather seriously, but he +appears to be suffering more from +fright than from pain. His fears do +not subside until he sees the kind +face of Sister Jules bending over +him.</p> + +<p>Our hospital—the annex at Pont-aux-Dames, +which is only semi-official—is +installed in a wing of +the house of the great comedian,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +Coquelin, alongside the wing where +aged actors have their home. Among +the retired actors who are there at +this moment are Messieurs Monti, +Gravier, Didier, Victor Gay, Mesdames +Clarence, Antonia Laurent, +Marie Georges, and the director, +Monsieur Hervouet. They are all +presided over by their dean, Angèle +Desraux, ninety-five years old, whom +they call "grandmother."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i135.jpg" width="600" height="373" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">Tomb of Coquelin in the park of the Actors' Home at Couilly<br /><i>Qu'il dorme dans ce beau jardin ses vieux comédiens le gardent.</i>—Rostand</div> +</div> + +<p>All these good people were much +frightened last Sunday by seeing +Bavarians go by. They were in their +dining-room when they saw them +pass. The pointed helmets, sixteen +of them, showed above the sash +curtains.</p> + +<p>After luncheon the old people +were taking their walk in the park<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +when they heard voices not far away. +Behind the tomb of Coquelin, to +their great amazement, they saw the +Bavarians sitting on the grass eating +their luncheon. Suddenly two shots +interrupted this rustic meal, a signal +for the rally, doubtless, and the men +mounted their horses and galloped +off up the hill.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>XIII</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +9 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THIS morning at nine, armed +boats went down the canal towards +Trilport.</div> + +<p>A French cavalry division on the +way to Paris gave us news to-day of +victory. The Germans have been +pushed back forty-five miles!</p> + +<p>Miss Aldrich came hurrying down +the hill at the very moment I was +starting to run up. With a single +impulse, each rushes to share her joy +with the other.</p> + +<p>We feel as if we had just awakened +from a dream. It seems to me these +three days have decided the fate of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +France. All the glory of it belongs +to those heroes whose dead bodies +strew the plain. Behind this rampart +we are safe.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>XIV</h2> + + +<div class='date'> +14 September, 1914.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>AT the top of the hill, in the same +spot where we watched with +aching hearts the passing of the +refugees, we are now watching for +the inhabitants of the countryside, +who are beginning to come back.</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i141.jpg" width="600" height="375" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">On the banks of the Marne</div> +</div> + +<p>It is a soft, mellow autumn day. +Everything is wrapped in a delicate +veil of mist, and the sun, sifting +through gently, touches the houses +with a pale golden light.</p> + +<p>Ah, but what a good and beautiful +day! They are coming home!</p> + +<p>Yes, there they come, slowly, in +little groups.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Several black specks at the foot of +the hill! Impatiently we wait until +they are near enough for us to recognize +them. How different is the look +in their faces, and how different their +whole bearing from that of the departure!</p> + +<p>We are happy to see once more +even those who were most indifferent +to us. They are like members of our +own family returning from a long +journey.</p> + +<p>Ah! How glad they are to catch +sight of the roofs of their houses +down below them in the valley!</p> + +<p>In a few words they tell us what +they have suffered. They have experienced +in their wanderings all +the anguish of the homeless. How +dark the future looked to them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +whereas now, their houses, safe from +harm, full of sweet welcome, open +wide their doors to receive them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i145.jpg" width="600" height="373" alt="photograph" /> +<div class="caption">The home of Mlle. Henriette Cuvru-Magot, with the gate open, showing part of the front garden</div> +</div> + +<p>Their home—symbol of the native +land—is still there. How +could they have gone away from it? +Could anything be more beautiful +to their eyes than their humble +dwelling—their little white house?</p> + +<p>How clearly they understand now +that love of one small corner of the +earth, that love of home, which years +of peaceful happiness had perhaps +made dim.</p> + +<p>Beloved spot where one has lived +and loved and suffered, we have all +needed this hard trial to show us +how we cherish you.</p> + +<p>So they are coming home.</p> + +<p>And there, in the distance, where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +sky meets valley, our heroes lie +dead.</p> + +<p>Beautiful young heroes, flower and +hope of our land, who have given +their lives unfalteringly here, that +our homes might be saved to us!</p> + +<p>This thought pervades all the +home-coming, and the gratitude of +those who are returning floods forth +to those who are no more.</p> + +<p>Now the setting sun stains the sky +with crimson, and forms, with bands +of azure and of white, an immense +standard which it spreads like a +winding-sheet over those glorious +heroes who have entered upon the +eternal life.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a><br /><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>NOTE BY THE AUTHOR</h2> + + +<blockquote> + +<p>Our humble village has nothing very +noteworthy, unless perhaps its magnificent +situation on a hillside overlooking +the Marne and the Grand-Morin, with +beautiful views in every direction.</p> + +<p>I am going to jot down here a passage +which sums up the history of the commune, +taken from "Excursions in the +Valley of the Grand-Morin," by Monsieur +Georges Husson:</p> + +<p>"The Commune of Quincy is one of +the largest of the Canton of Crécy. +Built on a high plateau, it comprises the +village proper, of pleasing aspect, and +several hamlets: Ségy, Moulignon, Voisins, +Jonchery, Huiry, Demi-Lune, etc.</p> + +<p>"The oldest document where Quincy +is mentioned is a charter dated 1257, +in which King Louis IX gives permission +to cultivate certain lands of the village, +in return for the payment of seven +measures of barley at Christmas, and +nine deniers for Easter eggs.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"From the thirteenth to the fifteenth +centuries, passing by the long line of +over-lords, quite without interest, we +find nothing remarkable in the history +of Quincy. But during the Wars of the +League, June 12, 1590, the village was +the scene of deplorable events.</p> + +<p>"Chevalier de Thury, Governor of +Meaux, and Sieur de Saint-Paul, Governor +of Brie, at the head of two thousand +men, besieged the village, where +intrenchments had been made. The inhabitants +were forced to retreat before +the besiegers; part of them took refuge +in the church, and climbed up into the +galleries that were pierced with loopholes. +From there they attacked the +Leaguers and killed fifty or more of +them. The latter, exasperated, set fire +to the seats in the church, and the defenders, +men and women, about a hundred, +were smothered.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, the inhabitants of +Quincy still held out, and did not yield +until about midnight, after a desperate +defence. They were condemned to pay +a large sum of money, and the Leaguers +did not take their departure until they +had pillaged the unhappy village.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In the nineteenth century, at the +time of the invasion of 1814, the +Allies established their headquarters +at Quincy. Frederic William III, King +of Prussia, passed the nights of March +28 and 29 in the New Château.</p> + +<p>"Alexander I, Czar of Russia, spent +the same two nights at the Old Château. +One can still see the room in which he +slept. The furniture has been carefully +preserved.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, doubtless, to their illustrious +guests, the commune was spared +at that time."</p> + +<p>In the twentieth century, to-day,—September +9, 1914,—it is solely due to +the valor of our soldiers that the village +has not been subjected to the worst kind +of horrors.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +H. C.-M.<br /> +</div></blockquote> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='tnote'><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> Page 9, "ont" changed to "out" (out anything more)</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Beyond the Marne, by Henriette Cuvru-Magot + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEYOND THE MARNE *** + +***** This file should be named 44599-h.htm or 44599-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/5/9/44599/ + +Produced by Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + +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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