The Note Book Of An Attaché

 Seven Months in the War Zone

 By ERIC FISHER WOOD

 With Illustrations from Photographs

 A. L. BURT COMPANY

 Publishers New York

 Published by Arrangements with THE CENTURY COMPANY

 COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY THE CENTURY CO. 

 _Published, June, 1915_

[Illustration: MR. MYRON T. HERRICK]

FOREWORD

When the war-storm suddenly loomed over Europe at the end of July, 1914, I was quietly studying architecture in the Ecole des Beaux-Artsat Paris. When Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia on July 24th, the atmosphere of the city became so surcharged with excitement thatto persist in study was difficult. Within a week I myself had beenswept into the vortex of rushing events, from which I did not emergeuntil seven months later. 

I became Attaché at the American Embassy in Paris under the regime ofMr. Herrick, and as such lived through the first exciting months ofthe great war. During the months of September, October, and November, I made four different trips to the front, covering territory whichextended along the battle-line from Vitry-le-François in the east to apoint near Dunkirk in the west. I saw parts of the battles of theMarne and the Aisne, and the struggle for Calais. 

The months of December and January I spent as a bearer of specialdispatches between the American Embassies and went several times toFrance, England, Switzerland, Holland, Germany, Austria, and Hungary. I have seen French, British, Belgian, and German troops in action. Ihave seen French, Swiss, Dutch, German, Austrian, and Hungarian troopsin manoeuvres. I spent the first week of February in Paris, leavingthere for America on February 10th. 

The following account of what I saw and heard is compiled from lettersand diaries which I wrote day by day on the spot. Some of myexperiences have had to be omitted for diplomatic reasons, and it hasbeen necessary, in some cases, to give information without mentioningmy authority. The higher the rank and the greater the reputation of myinformant, the less right have I to mention his name. 

Although my personal sympathies are with the French, I tried toobserve dispassionately and accurately, and have scrupulously aimed topresent my facts uncolored by preference or prejudice. In war, exaggeration and misrepresentation play an accepted part in thetactics of belligerents, but it should be the aim of a neutral toobserve with an unbiased mind, no matter what the state of hisemotions may be. Otherwise, the data he collects can have no value ashistorical material. 

 CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. --AT THE AMERICAN EMBASSY 3

 II. --THE GERMANS NEARING PARIS 42

 III. --WITH THE BRITISH ARMY. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE 68

 IV. --THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE 82

 V. --ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE 126

 VI. --THE BATTLE OF THE AISNE 153

 VII. --THE AMERICAN AMBULANCE 174

 VIII. --GERMANY AND BERLIN 203

 IX. --CARRYING DISPATCHES FROM BERLIN TO LONDON 234

 X. --VIENNA 247

 XI. --HUNGARY 256

 XII. --A GERMAN PRISON CAMP 288

 APPENDIX 303

THE NOTE-BOOK OF AN ATTACHÉ

CHAPTER I

AT THE AMERICAN EMBASSY

_Paris, Tuesday, August 4th. _ I presented myself at the AmericanEmbassy today and offered my services to Mr. Herrick. They werepromptly accepted. I was put to work with such suddenness that no timewas spent in determining my official status. I cannot say whether I ama doorman or an Attaché. At present the duties of the two seem to beidentical. 

Now, as in 1870, the German Embassy in leaving France turned over itsaffairs and the interests of German subjects remaining in France tothe American Ambassador. When I arrived today the _Chancellerie_presented an astounding sight. Around the outer door were huddled acompact crowd of Germans, men and women; they pressed about theentrance; they glanced furtively over their shoulders and their blueeyes were filled with dumb apprehension. Inside the _Chancellerie_ waschaos. Hundreds of Americans and Germans crowded together seekingaudience and counsel. German women sank down in corners of the hallsor on the stairs, weeping for joy to have found a haven of refuge. Scores of Sovereign American Citizens stood in the busiest spots andprotested with American vehemence against fate and chance. Each S. A. C. Was remonstrating about a separate grievance. Most of them reiteratedfrom time to time their sovereignty, and announced to no one inparticular that it was their right to see "their Ambassador" inperson. They demanded information! They needed money! They wished toknow what to do with letters of credit! What was "the government"going to do about sending them home? Was Paris safe? Would there beimmediate attacks by Zeppelins? Could they deposit their jewels inthe Embassy vaults? Were passports necessary? WHY were passportsnecessary? They asked the same questions over and over, and neverlistened to the answers. 

Inspired by Mr. Herrick, the staff of the Embassy struggled bravelyand coolly through this maelstrom, and accomplished as many things aspossible each minute. No fifty men could have gone through with allthe work that suddenly demanded attention. Without warning, virtuallywithin one day, this great flood of humanity had rolled in upon thenormally tranquil life of the Embassy, and yet its chief and hisassistants took up the vast responsibility as quietly and acted ascoolly as though it were all an everyday occurrence and not theemergency of a lifetime. 

I was first assigned to work with the American problems. WilliamIselin, who had been one of my fellow-students in the Ecole des BeauxArts, is Attaché at the Embassy and he gave me a rapid summary ofnecessary information. I plunged into work with eagerness, but whileattending to my own countrymen, my deepest personal sympathies wentout to the mob of panic-stricken Germans. Poor creatures, they are inno way personally responsible for the war, and yet they bear no meanpart in the suffering it is causing. It was decreed by the Frenchgovernment that all Germans who had not left Paris within twenty-fourhours after the order of mobilization would on no condition bepermitted to leave thereafter. Many of them had found it absolutelyimpossible to depart in time owing to the difficulty of obtainingmoney and to the disarrangement of the railway service caused by themobilization of troops. The second day of mobilization, August 3d, caught them like rats in a trap and exposed them to the doubtful fateof being lost in an enemy's country during war time. Many of them weretravelers who had been vacationing in the château country, visitingthe cathedrals of Normandy, or enjoying the picturesque country ofBrittany. Last week they were everywhere treated with respect andpoliteness, today they are looked upon with suspicion and hostility. They are hungry and they have no money. They are surrounded by looksof hatred and they are terror-stricken. No Frenchman but fears to beseen speaking to them. They have no place to sleep as no hotel orlodging-house dares harbor them. Many of them have lost all theirworldly goods and possess nothing except the clothes in which theystand. Nearly all of them carried their funds in letters of credit onGerman banks and these are now worthless in France. 

There are refined women who have slept in the streets and parks, nay, who have not been allowed to sleep, but have walked all night in theirpatent leather pumps. There are rich men who literally have not anavailable copper and whose eyes have taken on the nervous look ofhunted animals. They realize that neither their sound reputation norabundant wealth will alter their present condition by even one "petitpain de cinq centimes. " One man who carried bank-books and deedsshowing that he owned property to the amount of several hundredthousand francs had walked twelve miles to reach the Embassy, becausehe did not possess the coppers necessary to pay his carfare in apublic conveyance. 

Yesterday war was declared between France and Germany. One realizeshow quickly it has come when in the American mail yesterday morning acopy of the _New York Times_ dated only ten days ago devoted just acolumn and a quarter to the subject of possible friction betweenAustria and Serbia. When that newspaper left New York the whole worldwas at peace, but while it was crossing the ocean war has overwhelmedall Europe, and now when it reaches Paris twenty million men arerushing to arms. 

Today peace-loving France realizes that she is attacked by a powerfuland ambitious enemy. Today no man in all _la Patrie_ regrets thesacrifices which he has made to maintain an army capable of defendinghis country; no man but gives fervent thanks to Heaven that he hasbeen forced to pay taxes to support that army; no man regrets thosethree years of his life which he and each of his fellow-countrymenoffered up in order that its number might not diminish, for now thatarmy stands READY to prevent the ruin of his property, of his nation, of his women. It is Ready! At this moment--what a wonderful word! Inmodern wars little is of use which has not been prepared beforehand. Weeks only are necessary to ruin untrained and ill-armed forces, whileyears are needed to train an army and to manufacture arms. Thevictories of today are not won by Bravery armed with a rifle, but byScience supplemented by many complicated instruments. 

Every hour of every day presents new sights or experiences unique inkind and all speaking dramatically of war. Each such sight is asurprise more vivid than the preceding one. Every day is a successionof startling novelties, each of which gives one a tingling shock. Weare living so rapidly that some are benumbed, others intoxicated bythe rush of events. 

In the shops the prices of food staples have nearly doubled. Thepeople are all anxious to lay in a little supply of provisions againstsudden famine conditions, and the merchants are holding them up forall the traffic will bear. Articles that will keep indefinitely, suchas flour, chocolate, dried fruits, potatoes, coffee, and preservedmeats, are most in demand. Owing to the hand-to-mouth buying methodsof the French, Paris is never more than three days ahead of famine. Noone realizes this better than the French themselves, and thereforeeach and every one desires to lay in at least a small supply ofprovisions. A temporary shortage has consequently already occurred. 

The newspapers have been emphatic in the denunciation of the merchantswho, taking advantage of the national crisis, and making capital ofthe fear and need of the populace, have raised the prices of thenecessaries of life, and have advised the people not to submit to theimposition. Today the poorer classes have adopted the policy ofsmashing anything for which an unreasonable price is demanded. I hearda big, broad "femme du peuple" ask the corner grocer the price of someprunes, several bushels of which were exhibited in front of the store. The reply indicating a rise of some fifty per cent. In the price, thewoman suddenly picked up the basket in her strong arms, and before theastonished grocer could interfere, threw the whole lot into thegutter. Instantly a crowd collected which cheered the woman and jeeredthe grocer in so ugly a manner that he was thoroughly frightened. Hisconfusion was made quite complete when a policeman arrived anddeclared that what the woman had done was well done. The results ofthis policy were immediately salutary and by this evening theshopkeepers of Paris are a very chastened lot, and prices are quitenormal again. 

The eagerness with which newspapers are bought and read is noteworthy. Each succeeding "extra" is snapped up with unfailing alacrity. Theusual procedure is now reversed, for the newsboy is no longer seenracing at the beck of some haughty customer, but continues on hislordly way and allows the would-be purchaser to rush to him, or evenrun down the streets after him. The great journals seem unable to turnout enough editions or to get them out fast enough to meet the demand. The authorities, however, evidently consider this continual hawking ofsensational news unnecessarily disturbing to the populace, and anordinance is to be framed forbidding the crying of newspapers in thestreets. 

The Tour Eiffel, that plaything of a decade ago, has in this warbecome of supreme importance. It is the highest "wireless mast" in theworld and from it messages have been exchanged with Washington, D. C. Its value as a sending station cannot be over-estimated. Russia maybecome isolated; indeed she is already virtually shut off by thecurtain of hostile Germany and Austria-Hungary, stretching from theNorth Sea and the Baltic to the Adriatic. It is probable that wirelessmessages sent and received by the Tour Eiffel will soon be the onlymeans of rapid communication between France and Russia. Fears for thesafety of the tower have led to the most extraordinary precautions forits protection. It is assiduously guarded against the attack of spiesby numerous sentries. Anti-aircraft guns are mounted upon its variousstages to protect it against aëroplanes and Zeppelins, and heavybarbed-wire entanglements are to be built all around it. 

A curfew regulation is now in force in Paris. No one is allowed in thestreets after eight o'clock. Whoever is found out later than that houris promptly conducted to his domicile by the first policeman he meets. 

I received a cablegram tonight explaining that there is at the momentno means of forwarding money from New York to Paris. This makes myfinancial situation awkward, as I now have only three hundred francs. The worst of it is that one cannot even resort to the expedient ofborrowing, because all one's friends are suffering a like stringency. 

Today is, officially, the "third day of mobilization. " From now onFrance will live not by calendar, but by mobilization, days. Onespeaks not of "Sunday, August 2d, " but of the "first day ofmobilization. " Neither days of the week nor of the month exist anylonger. All government decrees, railroad schedules, and militaryorders are dated by the new era. Events follow a schedule which haslong since been prepared. When mobilization is announced the nationturns away from its everyday life and from the world's calendar, andstarts a carefully rehearsed set of operations executed according toan arbitrary schedule. One dimly remembers that if it were "peacetime" today would be Tuesday. 

One sees everywhere on the sidewalk little knots of people talking inlow, troubled voices, and each time just as their conversation is wellstarted they are interrupted by a policeman who reminds them that itis not permitted to _s'attrouper_ in the streets and that they mustmove on. 

Everywhere one sees speeding taxicabs, each containing a youngsoldier, his family, and two or three bundles. The young man usuallywears a brand new uniform. The women of the family are invariablyweeping quietly as if to say: "I cannot help crying, because I am awoman, but everything is all right and just as it should be!" When thefather is of the party, he has a calm face and sits beside his sonwith his arm around the son's shoulders, and always the taxi speedsmadly, so that each time one gets only the most fleeting glimpse ofthe family within. 

There are very few soldiers left in Paris, --not a fifth as many asusual; those that one does see are most of them driving heavily-loadedarmy wagons and appear most disgusted with the unheroic service. Auto-busses have completely disappeared from the streets, and this isa great inconvenience; they are all at Versailles being converted intomeat wagons or ambulances. All the fast private automobiles arerequisitioned for the army, and one sees them tearing along vying inspeed with the flying taxis, each one driven by a sapper with anothersapper in the footman's place, while one or two officers sit calmlybehind, trying to smoke cigarettes in spite of the wind. 

There are persistent rumors throughout Paris of battles "near Metz" or"on the borders of Luxembourg, " of "two hundred and thirty thousandFrench troops already in Alsace, " "ten thousand French killed atBelfort, " or "forty thousand German prisoners taken. "

The papers already announce a series of German depredations across theborder into the ten kilometer strip of country between it and theFrench armies. It is reported that German foragers are infesting thisstrip, carrying off everything of value. Yesterday morning the papersprinted the first "war story, " which recounts how a patrol of Uhlanspenetrating some ten kilometers into French territory were halted by aFrench sentinel, a soldier nineteen years old. The German in command, thinking the sentinel was alone, shot him through the head and washimself in turn immediately shot dead by the boy's comrades, who hadbeen hidden near by in an improvised guard-house. The papers alsoannounced that the president of the League of French Patriots inAlsace had been arrested and shot. These stories and others like them, coupled with the official report of the violation of Luxembourg and ofthe sending of a German ultimatum to Belgium, have intensely excitedthe French. 

Until yesterday the people of Paris have been forbearing with suchGerman subjects as are in the city. When these stories began tocirculate certain elements of the population took prompt and drasticaction against the German-owned shops of the city. During the day manysuch shops have been wrecked. The milk trust of Paris which sells "leBon Lait Maggi" is popularly supposed to be owned by German capital. Its shops are in every quarter of the city, one might almost say onevery street. They have today been the first objects of attack. One ofthese shops is in the Rue ----, not far from my apartment. I saw itwrecked this afternoon. There was no excitement, no hurry, noshouting. A crowd collected, apparently without concerted action, butas if by common impulse. There was no prearrangement or system aboutit and no "French" excitement. Most of the raiders were women. Therewas some jesting, and some dry wit, but mostly it was seriousbusiness. 

The work of wrecking was carried forward painstakingly and thoroughly. The iron screen over the show-window was torn off and broken up andthe window itself was smashed to bits, the door was broken open, everybit of glass or crockery was shivered to fragments against thesidewalk and the pieces were ground into powder under the heels of theraiders. Account books and bill-heads were torn sheet by sheet intothe tiniest bits and strewn up and down the street for a block, andall woodwork was smashed into kindling. During the operations apatrol of policemen on bicycles went tearing by. They must have beenon business of great and immediate importance since they had no timeto stop nor to look either to the right or left. When the wreckingoperations were quite completed another patrol came by. The sergeantin command dismounted. He wore a tremendous frown and with anauthoritative sweep of his arm cried: "Qu'est ce que vous faites?Allez! Allez vous en! vous savez bien que nous sommes maintenant sousla loi militaire, et que c'est défendu de s'attrouper dans les rues!Allez! Allez!" ("What are you doing? Move along, get out of here! Youknow that we are now under martial law and that it is forbidden tocollect in crowds in the streets. Move on, move on!"). 

The crowd instantly dispersed, wearing faces of great solemnity. It isevident that he could not possibly have arrested the wreckers, for hehad himself seen nothing and it is not to be supposed that they wouldhave been witnesses against one another. 

By night time there were many shops, factories, and cafés of Germanownership which had thus been raided. The crowds did not alwaystake time to make careful investigation before breaking up anestablishment. I shall never forget the plight of the Frenchproprietor of a café on the Place de l'Opéra who was standing infront of his completely wrecked shop using all the most eloquentFrench gestures, as he repeated over and over in helpless rage:"Sacré nom d'un nom, je suis caporal du cent-dixième de réserve etje pars au front après demain!" ("Sacred Name, I am Corporal ofthe 110th Reserve and I leave for the front the day after tomorrow. ")

Last evening I repeatedly heard the following conversation betweenFrenchmen, wherever they met:

 1st Frenchman: "Est-ce qu'on va boire du 'Bon Lait Maggi, ' ce soir?"

 2d Frenchman (with the solemnity of an owl): "Non, Monsieur!"

This formula of question and reply had travelled all over the city andwas repeated time after time with always the same internal relish. 

On all sides of Paris speedy aëroplanes and daring aviators holdthemselves ready to dash upon any enemy who may approach by way ofthe air and, if necessary, fall with him to mutual destruction. Allnight the beams of searchlights comb the sky for invaders and cast atragic reflected glow upon the city beneath. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, August 5th. _ Yesterday an all too enterprising individualchartered one of the fast little Seine boats, always so beplasteredwith "Dubonnet" advertisements, which ply along the river between theQuai du Louvre and St. Cloud. He announced that since it was now nolonger possible to reach London via the train to Havre, he wouldtransport Americans on his little boat to England, going down theSeine past Rouen and across the Channel. For such service each personwas to be charged an extravagant amount, payment strictly in advance. The scheme was widely advertised to have the approval of the AmericanAmbassador, although no one at the Embassy knew anything about thematter until Americans came to the _Chancellerie_ yesterday to ask forfurther information. Mr. Herrick sent me out to investigate. Thepromoter had evidently calculated that the Ambassador would not hearabout it until too late to interfere. 

I found the whole proposition most impractical. The boat was far toosmall for so dangerous a trip, there were no accommodations for solong a voyage, and the question of food supplies was a very seriousone. Moreover, numerous and incalculable difficulties were involved inpassing through a country in a state of war. 

Upon receiving the detailed report on the objections to the scheme, Mr. Herrick promptly sent to the Paris papers a statement that hisalleged connection with or approval of the plan was a mistake. Noticesto the same effect were also posted in the halls of the Embassy. 

This morning the crowd of Germans who thronged to the Embassy wasgreatly increased, while the number of Americans was approximately thesame as yesterday; consequently several of the staff were transferredfrom work with Americans to work with Germans, I being among them. Itis strenuous business handling these panic-stricken people. Heretofore, the offices for the naval and military Attachés have beenlocated on the ground floor of the _Chancellerie_, but in the presentemergency this space is converted into an impromptu German Embassy, all German affairs being concentrated here, while the Americans aretaken care of on the floor above. We are stationed two by two at desksranged along the walls of the entrance hall and we dispose of eachcase as rapidly as possible as they are passed to us by the doorman. 

All these Germans require four things: food, lodgings, protection, andproper police papers. We began by doling out to them from one to threefrancs each to be used to buy food. Our miserliness was due to thefact that, under existing economic conditions, even the Embassy couldobtain only a limited amount of change, and it was essential that wemake that go as far as possible. In order to obtain at one and thesame time lodging and protection for our wards, Mr. Herrick arrangedwith the French government that the Lycée Condorcet in the Rue duHavre be set aside for the lodgment of German subjects. This buildingis guarded by a squad of police who allow no one to enter who is notthe bearer of a certificate issued by the American Embassy. The LycéeCondorcet is a great barn of a place, from which nearly all thefurniture has been removed, but it provides for the moment the twoessentials, a roof and safety. No owner of an hotel or apartment willin these dangerous days harbor Germans, in each of whom he sees apossible spy, and the government, suddenly called upon to housethousands of aliens, responds to the appeal of the American Embassyas best it can. Hundreds of Germans will tonight sleep on the barefloor of the Lycée Condorcet, and be more thankful for that saferesting-place than ever they have been for the most comfortable bed orluxurious apartment. 

No attempt was today made to provide Germans with the necessary policepapers. We had indeed no time to consider anything but food, shelter, and safety. Tomorrow we shall attack that problem. 

By three o'clock we had so systematized the work of handling theGermans that I found I could, with the aid of two assistants, attendto all the routine cases myself. This released the men at the othertables to reinforce the American office on the floor above, whosebusiness had during the afternoon greatly increased. There was nomeans or time for estimating in advance just how many people could becrowded into the Lycée Condorcet, so I continued during the afternoonto issue certificates of admission to all the Germans whom I examined. On receiving their certificates most of them went at once to theLycée to get off the streets. By six o'clock the place was so crowdedthat not another person could find room even to sit on the floor;therefore the late arrivals, after having wearily trudged two longmiles from the Embassy to the Lycée, had to trudge back again from theLycée to the Embassy. By eight o'clock there were nearly a hundred ofthese refugees huddled around the _Chancellerie_ and it was late inthe evening before I, by most desperate efforts, succeeded in makingarrangements for them for the night. 

The French police have promulgated a regulation that all Germans nowin Paris are to be shut up in detention camps. They are ordered toreport immediately to the nearest police station, where they willreceive written notifications of the camps to which they have beenassigned, and of the date of their departure. The detention camps aretwelve in number and are located at Limoges, Gueret, Cahors, Libourne, Périgueux, Saintes, Le Blanc, La Roche-sur-Yon, Chateauroux, Saumur, Anger, and Flers. Several large trainloads will be shipped away fromParis each day for the next two weeks. Exceptions to this edict are tobe made only in the case of Alsatians, and of those sick Germans whoare possessors of a certificate from some French physician statingthat they are too ill to endure transportation. 

The frightened Germans find it difficult to understand the numerousdetails involved in this order, and are hopelessly confused by thevarious official papers they are required to obtain to safeguard themagainst the accusation of being spies. The Embassy endeavors to keepitself informed as to the latest police enactments, and these areclearly and courteously explained to all the Germans who apply to theEmbassy for counsel or assistance. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, August 9th. _ During the past few days I have been absolutelyabsorbed with the affairs of the Germans. I am at present in charge ofthem and report results to the Second Secretary. I enter the Embassybefore nine in the morning and it is after midnight before I leave itsdoors. None of the staff, not even Mr. Herrick himself, departs beforethat hour. If some of the peacefully sleeping Sovereign AmericanCitizens who are so free with their criticisms during the daytimecould see the members of the Embassy in the early hours of the morningat the end of our sixteen-hour day, they would perhaps pitythemselves less. We work always at high pressure; meals are hurriedlyswallowed at odd moments and at irregular hours. Each night I walkhome across Paris, down the Rue Freycinet, over the Pont de l'Alma, through the Avenue Bosquet, Avenue Duquesne, Rue Oudinot to the Rued'Olivet--and sleep. It is a long walk when one is dead tired, butthere are no public conveyances at night and, indeed, few in thedaytime. The walk takes nearly an hour, even at a fast gait, for atshort intervals one is halted by policemen demanding explanations ofthis midnight journey. Few experiences have been more weird than thisnightly trip through the familiar Paris streets, strangely dark andabsolutely deserted. 

Each day is now a haze of Germans and their troubles; of policemen, detectives, and soldiers, of tears and laughter, bits of the sublimeand the ridiculous; of women who have been robbed and men who havebeen arrested as spies; of constant struggles to secure papers forpoor hounded creatures, which one policeman demands and anotherrefuses to grant; of beaten faces and tear-stained cheeks; of Frenchwomen endlessly begging unobtainable news of sons lost in Germany, and of petty crookednesses on the part of those we are trying to helpand protect. 

Affairs are, however, running more smoothly. We have found means toget small change in large quantities, and I now know personally mostof the police officials who are concerned in German affairs. 

 * * * * *

I have heard the Marseillaise sung upon hundreds of peacefuloccasions; have risen when it was played in French theaters; haveenthusiastically joined in singing it at students' dinners, and havebeen impressed by it in an unemotional and academic way. In peacetimes one feels that it is easily the greatest of national anthems, but fails to realize that it is primarily a battle song. This morningfor the first time I heard it sung as such, and as such shall foreverremember it. I was walking down the Rue de Sèvres toward the BoulevardMontparnasse, hoping to pick up a stray taxicab which would carry meto the Embassy. Suddenly, and with startling abruptness, I was broughtto a full stop by a wave of sharp, staccato vocal sound. Wave beatupon wave, --a great volume of male voices shouting in unison. Therewas something so strange, so startling, and so appalling in theirquality that, without comprehending what was coming, a shiver ran upmy spine. The sound swelled and came nearer, and suddenly the head ofa column of infantry swung into view past a street corner just aheadand the dull "smash--smash--smash" of a thousand feet falling inunison could be heard through the volume of sound. It was theMarseillaise of war! The troops were marching to the Gare Montparnasseto entrain for the front, and in a few days would be in thebattle-line. Their bayonets sloped backward, a waving thicket benttoward the morning sun. There was no music in their words, which weresharp and incisive. Each word was a threat, an imprecation, intensewith ferocious meaning. Their intonation carried conviction that themen meant literally every impressive line they uttered. The wordsvisualized for me the picture in their own minds. I could sense theirdesire to charge the Germans, to close in, to strike, to stab. Perhapsthe deliberate, vengeful premeditation to destroy is more terriblethan the act itself. I doubt if any battle could ever affect me asdid the song of those men. The result was so disintegrating to one'spsychology that for the rest of the day I completely lost balance ofjudgment. I felt exultantly certain that the French were going tosmash Germany into tiny bits, and was equally sure that they could, ifneed be, demolish all creation. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, August 10th. _ Today Austria and France are officially at war. The affairs of the Austro-Hungarian Embassy were turned over to usthis evening. This probably means that a flood of Austrians andHungarians will be tomorrow added to the Americans and Germans whoalready keep us so busy. 

Today for the first time we were able to complete all the businessbrought to the Embassy. Previously we had to be content withaccomplishing as much as could be done in a sixteen-hour day. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, August 12th. _ I have witnessed so much suffering duringthe last week that to see people weep now no longer produces anyemotional effect upon me. One's sympathies get numbed by theover-strain put upon them; the more keenly one feels, the more numbone ultimately becomes. Today during the long day about five hundredAustrians and Hungarians poured in upon the Embassy. I examined onehundred and sixty-four cases between two o'clock and half-past four, and gave monetary assistance to one hundred and twenty-one. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, August 14th. _ During the past week six ten-dollar gold pieceswhich have been sent me in letters arrived safely. Snugly held intheir pasteboard frames, they could not be detected by feeling theletters. When the first one arrived I had spent virtually all themoney which I had on hand at the beginning of the war, and this goodAmerican gold will tide me over until drafts can be sent through toParis. In New York in peace time sixty dollars seems a small amount, but in France in war three hundred francs in gold looks a smallfortune. At least, it insures plenty of good food. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, August 16th. _ Until today I have had at the Embassy nodefinite status. I have laughingly been dubbed the "GermanAmbassador. " Everyone has been much too busy to give thought toanything so personal as position or titles. This morning, however, time was found to send my name to the Minister of Foreign Affairsas "Attaché Civil à l'Ambassade Américaine, " and to request thecustomary "coup fil. "

 * * * * *

_Monday, August 17th. _ I have at last received money from America. Itcame through Morgan, Harjes & Company. This firm has been thesalvation of our countrymen in Paris. They announced that "untilfurther notice" they would cash all American paper. They even takepersonal checks on American banks. The "further notice, " fortunately, shows no signs of appearing. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, August 20th. _ The statue of Strasbourg on the Place de laConcorde has been constantly hung with mourning wreaths and crêpe eversince the capture and annexation of the city of Strasbourg by theGermans forty-four years ago. Now it is piled with gay flowers andbedecked with streamers and the arms of the lady are filled withflags, conspicuous among which are those of Great Britain and Russia. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, August 21st. _ Nearly all the Germans, Hungarians, andAustrians have by this time been interned in the detention camps; allages and both sexes have been shipped away to a fate of which we asyet have no knowledge. 

I have been arranging the details of an automobile tour of inspectionto the various camps, in order to investigate the prisons and todisburse to the prisoners the funds which have been received for theirbenefit from their various governments. Such a trip will necessitatenearly twelve hundred miles of travel and will require at least twoweeks' time. 

Mr. Herrick sent for me today and questioned me as to the state of thepreparations. He told me that he intended to select me to make thetrip, and that I was to start as soon as the necessary permissions hadbeen received from the French Government. Attaché Herbert Hazeltine, who has been a fellow-worker in behalf of the Germans, is to takecharge of the Paris office during my absence. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, August 22d. _ German affairs are now reduced to a system. The Embassy each day opens to Americans at ten o'clock. I begin withmy Germans and Austrians at nine in order to get clear of the leastdesirable element before the Americans appear. In that first hour wedispose of about fifty per cent. ; the half that need only routineassistance. At present I receive them in the entrance hall of theEmbassy at the far end. I sit at the desk facing the door and have themoney sent by the German Government for destitute cases on my lefthand in a drawer against the wall. An Austrian, long resident inParis, and president of the Austro-Hungarian Relief Society, is placedon my right to give me the benefit of his long experience in charitywork. He already knows many of those who apply for aid and can judgewhether or not they are really destitute. Beyond him is anotherassistant who fills out receipts for each sum distributed and obtainsthe signature of the recipient. Special appointments for the afternoonhours are made with those applicants who want information or helpwhich cannot immediately be decided upon. 

The crowd outside the door, often several hundred in number, is keptin order by two policemen. Assistants hand out numbers like those usedfor the Paris auto-busses, not given however for priority, but forundesirability; the least desirable getting in first so that we may bethe sooner rid of them. These assistants also see that each applicanthas the correct papers in his hand, and that three of them are waitingin line to facilitate the steady flow of the human current. Thereceipts and my entries form a double record and check to be used inthe official accounts which are balanced every day and in the end willbe transmitted in reports to the German and Austrian Governments. Astenographer keeps an indexed, alphabetical list of all theapplicants, which enables me to find the past record of any case whichreappears. In addition to this, I have a system of hieroglyphics whichI write in on the lower right-hand corner of the police papers whichevery foreigner must at all times carry with him for identification. There is also an interpreter for those rare comers who speak neitherFrench nor English. By this system I have managed to examine as manyas one hundred and thirty-five cases in an hour, and once as high anumber as seven hundred in a single day. 

At the beginning of the war there were probably at least thirtythousand Germans and Austrians in or near Paris who became wards ofthe American Embassy when the affairs of the German and AustrianEmbassies were turned over to us, all of them needing to be furnishedwith proper police papers and to be provided with a refuge until suchtime as they are shipped to detention camps in the south of France. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, August 23d. _ Here in Paris, extraordinary as it may seem, wehave had no real news of the progress of the war. The OfficialCommuniqués carry to a fine point the art of saying nothing of anyimportance. The newspapers are so strictly censored that they arepermitted to publish little except these _communiqués_ or editorialsbased upon them. Letters and papers from America really give us thefirst accounts of events which are happening at our very gates. Weknow by rumor that there has been heavy fighting somewhere andsomewhen. Many German prisoners are being taken around Paris southwardto the detention camps which I hope soon to visit, and the flags ofthree German regiments have been brought to Paris and exhibited withconsiderable ceremony. This should indicate that battles favorable tothe French have been fought, since a German regiment numbers threethousand men and would defend its flag to the last. 

Of late one sees everywhere numbers of women in mourning, increasingso rapidly as to attract the attention of even the least observing. Paris still maintains a strange calm. The stillness of the city ispositively oppressive. Even the newsboys drag slowly along calling ina disheartened voice their wares which no longer contain any news andwhich, in consequence, find few buyers. 

The people seem to realize from the very lack of news that this is tobe a long and terrible war and that any decisive result cannot be atpresent expected. 

Letters are constantly arriving at the Embassy, forwarded to us withgreat care by French soldiers who have found them on the bodies ofdead Germans, or received them from the hands of the dying. They aresent to us in the hope that we may eventually find means to transmitthem to Germany to the relatives of the dead for whom they wereintended. Today came such a note written by a German airman who hadbeen shot down out of the sky. He had evidently realized that histime was short and had hurriedly scribbled on the back of a sheet ofinstructions printed in German script the few words he could summonstrength to write. The scrap of paper was torn and smudgy and athumb-print in blood was impressed on one corner. Each word was moreshaky and labored than the preceding one, as if each had been tracedonly by a supreme effort. On it was written in German, "Good-bye, Mother and Father. My leg is crushed. The French are very kindand.... " A foot-note had been added by some French soldier explainingthat the man had died while he was writing, and giving the means ofidentification which had been found on the body. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, August 24th. _ Yesterday and this morning I have observed avery singular psychological phenomenon. Neither yesterday nor todayhave the authorities given out any military news of importance and thepapers have been as non-committal as usual, yet all Paris believesthat the Allies have suffered a great and terrible defeat at a placein Belgium called Charleroi. The whole city is as if it were under apall. Every face wears a fatalistic expression terrible to behold. Ihave read of such mysterious spreading of evil tidings, but have neverbefore witnessed anything of the kind. It is a very curiousmanifestation, whether or not it proves to have any foundation infact. [1]

[Footnote 1: The French and British armies suffered a crushing defeatat Charleroi on August 22d-23d. As a result they were driven back adistance of 150 miles and only succeeded in making a stand after theyhad reached a point southeast of Paris. ]

 * * * * *

The French find a superstitious encouragement in an acrostic whichsome ingenious journalist has constructed out of the names of theCommanders-in-Chief of the French and British armies. Here it is:

 JOF | FRE ____|_____ | FRE | NCH

 * * * * *

With Paris unlighted at night, it is an uncanny experience to walkthrough a great city which is absolutely dark. The Champs-Elysées isprobably at present the darkest avenue on earth. All those monumentallamp-posts which used to stand like beacons in the midst of thestream of traffic now shine no more. The sun seldom rises withoutrevealing the ruins of one of these lamps and of an automobile, thetwo having mutually destroyed each other in the darkness. We do notknow why the city is left in gloom. The common interpretation is anecessity to save gas and coal. 

I do such a variety of things each day! This morning I managed to getaway from the Embassy for an hour in one of the several automobileswhich have been loaned to Attachés and which are driven by theirAmerican owners. During that time I arranged for the delivery oftwenty thousand francs in small change which I shall take with me onmy trip to the detention camps, ordered a lot of printing, andobtained fifteen hundred francs in change for tomorrow's crowd ofGerman and Austrian indigents. I visited the editor of a newspaper andarranged for the correction of an article giving some misinformationabout Embassy affairs, and then ended up by making a verbal report ofthe morning's work to Mr. Frazier. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, August 25th. _ The Military Governor of Paris is now investedwith absolute and autocratic powers. He makes what regulations hechooses and is authorized to punish any infraction of his rule withthe death penalty. He has taken advantage of his position to institutevarious reforms which have for years been much needed but which havehitherto been persistently blocked by "politics. " He is no longerrequired to argue with bureaucracies or to convince legislatures. Heacts without hindrance. He has thus, out of hand, settled some of thegreat problems with which Paris has been struggling for years. With astroke of the pen, for instance, he has made it illegal to buy, sell, or possess absinthe. He is said to have destroyed the long menace ofthe Apache gangs by summarily shooting down all that could be found inParis. He has by drastic measures suppressed gambling, and has evendone away with the slot machines of chance which have so long stood inall the cafés to catch the hard-earned sous of the workmen. It isprobable that these reforms will be permanent and will stand even whenmartial law in Paris is abolished. It is always difficult toaccomplish a great reform, but it is often impossible to undo it onceit is an accepted fact. If we had real prohibition in America andWoman Suffrage, I hardly think that we should vote to have "whiskey"brought back or ever disfranchise our women. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, August 28th. _ Public vehicles are now almost unobtainable. Taxicabs are to be secured only after much delay and at exorbitantprices. It has become more and more a waste of time for me to crossParis on foot each morning and evening and to do much of my Embassywork at the same disadvantage. I have attempted to solve thedifficulty by engaging by the week one of those archaic old horsechaises called fiacres. London has placed a hansom in the BritishMuseum with the other obsolete and historic styles of equipages, butfrugal Paris has kept her out-of-date vehicles on exhibition in activeuse on the boulevards. These conveyances, so recently looked down uponfor their slow pace as compared with the speed of taxis, are nowrestored to something of their former prestige. 

The fiacre I have acquired is navigated by Paul, who has been a Paris_cocher_ for thirty-five years, and its one-horse power is furnishedby his faithful old horse Grisette. True to type, Paul is stout andjovial. He considers it a great honor to drive for a member of anEmbassy and always sits up very straight on his box, for to come andgo on missions concerning "les affaires des Etats-Unis" has imbued himwith a great sense of dignity and importance. When waiting in front ofthe Embassy among the limousines he maintains a rigid and dignifiedposition and insists that Grisette, for her part, shall hold up herhead and stand on all four feet. 

Each noon Paul drives Hazeltine and myself down the nearly desertedChamps-Elysées for lunch at the Café Royal. We must make an absurdspectacle with so much dignity on the box and a total lack of itbehind, for Hazeltine and I, relaxing from the strenuous work of themorning, lounge in the seat with our feet far out in front, as wediscuss with great vehemence affairs connected with our Embassy work. The pleasure and pride which Paul experiences in his present"position" he shares with Grisette, with whom and of whom he speaks asif she were human. He perorates upon her manifold good qualities, usually ending with the statement that she is "bonne comme du bonpain, " while Grisette modestly pretends that she does not hear herselfthus praised. 

CHAPTER II

THE GERMANS NEARING PARIS

_Saturday, August 29th. _ Paris feels the oppression of war more andmore each day. There have been so many "morts pour la patrie" thateverywhere there are families who have been stricken by the loss of amember. This leaven of sorrow gives to the population as a whole asomber tone. 

Perfectly frightful stories of German barbarities are circulating. They are almost unbelievable, but seem to have some confirmation. 

Many of the wounded Frenchmen when returning from the front bringtrophies of battle, such as German swords, bayonets, and buttons. Themost prized possession of all is the German spiked helmet. Barringonly the scalp of the American Indian, a more significant trophy couldnot be imagined. It is not only significant but gorgeously handsome. Moreover, it is everywhere on earth accepted as the symbol of thePrussian militarism. 

Today Mr. Herrick sent an Attaché with a fast automobile out towardCompiègne, which is thirty-eight miles from the Porte St. Denis. Theman was not permitted to approach the town, but from hills on thisside he could hear the constant rumble of heavy guns. He returned toParis giving it as his opinion that a battle was being fought atCompiègne. This, however, is so improbable that he can find no one tocredit his report. The idea is really too preposterous! The truthmight be that manoeuvres of the French army were in progress, orthat the forts around Paris were practising. We have been warned thatthis might occur. The war was not declared four weeks ago; how thenwould it be possible for the Germans already to be at Compiègne?Before they could reach a point so near Paris they must first reducethe triple line of the French frontier fortifications, which are theproduct of more than forty years of study and labor and form a greaterbarrier than any ocean. Even were these reduced, the Germans wouldhave to beat back the French active army numbering one and a halfmillion men. Compiègne is no farther from Paris than Peekskill is fromNew York. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, August 30th. _ The rumors of evil which yesterday all refusedto believe as absolutely incredible are today accepted as facts. Nobad news has yet appeared in print, the censor having suppressed eventhe slightest hint of misfortune. This lack of any definiteinformation has had a disintegrating effect upon the public morale. Since all official news is denied them, the people add to theirprevious personal anxiety a ghastly terror of the unknown, multipliedand intensified as it manifests itself in the masses, already in ahigh state of excitement. [2]

[Footnote 2: I have been informed by American officials on duty inBerlin that they have never observed any misstatement of fact, or anyessential omission in the _communiqués_ of the German Government. This, during my brief visits within the borders of the Empire, wascertainly borne out by my own experience. Defeats are announced asautomatically as victories. An illustration of the advantageous effectof this procedure upon public morale and of the disadvantageous effectof the opposite occurred after the Battle of the Marne. The French, who should logically have gained the greatest encouragement, had solearned to distrust their official _communiqués_, that they gained noadvantage of this kind whatsoever, while the Germans, who ought tohave received no moral stimulus from so material a disaster, underwenta fresh _accroissement_ of their patriotic determination as a resultof the frank announcement that the war was no longer going "accordingto specifications. "]

Paris knows with a conviction that nothing can alter that the Frencharmies have met defeat at all points along the line. They do not needdates, or names, or numbers; the one terrible fact that the Germansare again nearing the gates of Paris stands out with greater intensitybecause all details are withheld. 

The Bank of Paris has begun to move. I felt it was an historicallymemorable day when I stood this morning before its great doors andwatched the nervous, hurrying messengers endlessly streaming in andout as they loaded a row of trucks with France's money bags. Thebearers looked for all the world like a stream of ants carrying theirlarvæ to safety when an ant-hill is broken open. 

It is commonly reported that the French Government is planning to fleefrom Paris. If that actually occurs the papers will doubtless announceit as a "strategic retreat. " The members of the various Embassies arebecoming frightfully nervous and most of them will probably leave atthe same time. 

At the American _Chancellerie_ all goes on quite as usual, partlybecause we are so busy that there is no time to worry, but principallybecause Mr. Herrick is so calm and confident that he sets all theother members a compelling example. 

Early this afternoon it was reported at the Embassy that a Germanaëroplane had flown over Paris and had dropped several bombs, one ofwhich had fallen near the St. Lazare Hospital. Mr. Herrick sent me outto investigate. I found that there had really been an aëroplane andthat it had thrown three bombs, all of which had exploded. Manywindows had been broken and one old woman had been killed. Few people, however, had actually seen the aëroplane. 

The censor allowed details of the affair to be published in theevening papers, including what purported to be a translation of a notedropped by the German, saying: "The German army is at the gates ofParis. Nothing remains for you but to surrender. --Lieutenant vonHeidssen. " This is an example of the inexplicable working of thecensorship. The people tonight all seemed to believe that the German'snote is authentic. 

The papers recently published an account of the arrival at a Parishospital of a wounded Turco who had brought as trophy a German spikedhelmet. The peculiar element reported was that the head was still inthe helmet. I doubt the truth of this story. It is, however, anotherexample of the extraordinary workings of the censor's mind. Hesuppresses every vestige of harmless war news on the plea that itmight "assist the enemy, " and then permits the publication of such ahate-breeding tale as this. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, August 31st. _ Another German aëroplane flew over the citytoday and again threw bombs. It arrived at six in the evening. Thepsychological effect on Paris has been incalculable. Yesterday's Taubewent virtually unobserved; it did not seem to need explanation, andits visit could be interpreted as a freakish exploit--the solitary oneof its kind. The attack of another Taube today put an entirelydifferent face upon the matter. Nothing better could have beencalculated to disquiet the French. They have always consideredthemselves kings of the air and have felt that, whatever else might befound wanting, at least the French aviators would always rule thatelement. Today every soul in Paris saw the Taube. Until now anythingabout the Germans' approach has been rumor and hearsay, but now comesthis plain fact for all the world to see; and what more convincing orspectacular evidence of their nearness could be set before theParisians than a German aëroplane flying over their heads? I think itwill prove the spark to light one of the historical explosions of theFrench people, and that this will probably show itself in extremepanic conditions. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, September 1st. _ Panic conditions of the most pronouncedorder exist today. Everyone seems possessed with the single idea ofescaping from Paris. A million people must be madly trying to leave atthe present moment. There are runs on all the banks. The streets arecrowded with hurrying people whose faces wear expressions of nervousfright. The railroad stations are packed with tightly jammed mobs inwhich people and luggage form one inextricable, suffocating, hopelessjumble. 

Cabs are nearly unobtainable. When anyone is seen to alight from avehicle, a flock of men and women instantly gather round it likevultures and there stand poised to see if the cabby is to be paid off. If the "fare" makes a motion toward his pocket, the mob piles into thecarriage, swearing and scrambling. The matter is then arbitrated bythe driver who accepts as client the one who offers the largest_pourboire_. In the Rue Condorcet today I saw such a dispute settledwith a twenty-franc tip. One of the defeated candidates was a poordejected woman who had fought like a tigress for the cab and had beenejected with considerable force. She now wept copiously andhopelessly. She explained that she had her baggage and three childrento take to the station and that she had been endlessly trying to get avehicle since the night before, and announced that this was the ninehundredth vehicle "qu'on m'a volé. " For one in her emergency Iconsidered this an excusable exaggeration, so I lent her my _cocher_, Paul, and hurriedly went on foot to the Embassy. My faithful Paul doesnot desert me, even now when the streets run gold for _cochers_. Lastevening an auto carried a family to Tours, returning this morning. Forthis it received 1500 francs. Thousands upon thousands of refugeesfrom the north are fleeing across Paris by any and every means oftransportation left in the city. 

 * * * * *

Three days ago we doubted the possibility of a battle as near asCompiègne. Today already we feel it quite possible that the Germanswill capture Paris, and that within a few days. It is almost certainthat our Embassy will have a tremendous part to play in the capture, for Mr. Herrick will stay in Paris, come what may, unless Washingtonorders him to leave. It is probable that France will turn over to himher interests in Paris--one might almost say, the city itself. 

Another Taube came today and left the usual consignment of threebombs. The aviator arrived promptly at six, just as he did yesterday. I was amused to see two French policemen rush out of a café and firetheir revolvers at the so-far-away speck. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, September 2d. _ The German bomb-dropping aëroplane arriveseach day as regularly as sunset. It is considerate of him to comealways at the same hour--six o'clock. One knows when to expect him andis thus able to be promptly on hand to watch the show. It wasespecially thrilling today. We all stood in the Rue Chaillot in frontof the _Chancellerie_, and being on the side of the Trocadéro Hill weenjoyed a good view off over the city. The Taube passed almostdirectly over our heads on its way to attack the Tour Eiffel; it flewat an altitude of about 5000 feet and looked very like a bug crawlingacross the sky. With our glasses we could see the German aviatorlooking down at us, and could distinguish on the under side of eachwing the black Maltese cross which all German aëroplanes carry as"uniform. "

Off to the east a French machine was slowly mounting above thehousetops to give battle. The German sailed over the Tour Eiffel anddropped a bomb. We caught sight of it, a tiny speck floatingdownwards. After waiting what seemed an unreasonably long time, weheard the faint, muffled "boom" of its explosion. All this time, gunsin various parts of the city were shooting at the aëroplane; itsounded like firecrackers on the Fourth of July. There areanti-aircraft guns on the different platforms of the Tour Eiffel. These seemed to be rapid-fire guns which spouted ten shots in aboutfive seconds, and then, after taking a long breath, spouted anotherten shots, and so on. The din was extraordinary, but the Germanaëroplane went serenely on as if utterly unconscious of the thousandsof shots of which it was the target. 

After throwing his first bomb near the Tour Eiffel, the Germandescribed a graceful, sweeping curve off over the Ecole Militaire, andthrew another bomb which struck the roof of a house in the AvenueBosquet. He then turned northward and sailed off in triumph overMontmartre, apparently unscathed. The French machine had meanwhilereached about half the altitude at which the German was flying. Thewhole affair was extremely dramatic. All Paris stood open-mouthed inthe streets, utterly oblivious to everything but the machine which wascreeping across the sky. 

The French already take their daily Taube as much as a matter ofcourse as their daily café. They cannot help exclaiming in admiration"quel aplomb!" It is now the fourth day that a German aëroplane haspassed over the French armies, eluded the French machines, and braveda murderous fire from the waiting guns of Paris. 

The incidents have been marked by singularly ineffective shooting onboth sides. The aëroplanes have thrown a dozen bombs; they have brokenwindows and roof slates and have killed one old woman. But this hasbeen, as far as I know, the only casualty. On the other hand, theTaubes likewise have escaped unwrecked, in spite of the fact thatenough ammunition has been expended against them to have smashed allthe aëroplanes in the world. The psychological effect on the Parisianshas been immense. 

For two weeks now, I have been entirely ready to start on my firsttour of the detention camps. The need has seemed so pressing that Ihave been prepared to start immediately on the receipt of permissionfrom the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Mr. Herrick rightly refuses toallow me to start without this permission. The reason for the delayseems to be that France insists that she will accord us only thoseprivileges with regard to her German prisoners that the Germangovernment gives to the Spanish Embassy in Berlin with regard to theFrench prisoners in Germany. The hitch is that each takes exactly thesame ground, so neither side does anything definite. 

Such is European "diplomacy. " The onus of the prisoners' conditioncannot be said to rest upon our shoulders. Mr. Herrick or Mr. Blisshas made _démarches_ in the matter almost every day. 

Diplomacy is a trade which I find extremely hard to learn. Itsprincipal rule seems to be never to do anything that you can possiblyavoid. Such principles naturally give rise to a great deal of futileroutine. When a diplomat must act, he methodically follows awell-trodden and known-to-be-safe path; when he is forced totake a new direction he invariably makes some superior take theresponsibility. I know that on one occasion a trivial question wasasked of a Jäger at the door of a European _Chancellerie_; it waspassed through eight people of increasing rank and finally reached theruler of a great nation. I wonder if the applicant was kept waiting atthe door by the Jäger during the months necessary for the working outof the process. 

The Government of France has announced, officially, that it willdepart from Paris tonight and that Bordeaux is to be the new capital. In point of fact, many officials have already gone, while those whostill remain are to leave tonight on a series of diplomatic trains. The Embassies of England and Russia and the Legation of Belgium willgo also. There is a rumor that several of the neutral ambassadors andconsuls will flee, but this I cannot credit. They could have nosufficient excuse for deserting Paris so precipitately, and if theydid they would appear arrant cowards. Mr. Herrick is sending CaptainPope, one of the military Attachés, and Mr. Sussdorf, the thirdsecretary, to Bordeaux, in order that we may have some officialrepresentation with the French Government in its temporary exile, butfeels that the Embassy as a whole should stay in Paris. Bordeaux is inthe midst of the districts which contain the detention camps forGerman and Austrian prisoners, and I therefore rather expected to besent with Captain Pope and Mr. Sussdorf when I heard at noon that theywere to leave for Bordeaux. Mr. Frazier, however, told me that I wasto stay in Paris, work here being so pressing that the Germanprisoners will have to get on without me. I hurriedly turned over toCaptain Pope much data I had collected concerning the camps and asatchel containing twenty thousand francs in small change which I hadin hand for distribution among the internes. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, September 3d. _ Now that part of the Embassy corps hasdeparted for Bordeaux, the following remain at the _Chancellerie_ toface the exciting events of an impending German invasion. Besides Mr. Herrick and the secretaries, Messrs. Bliss and Frazier, there areMajors Cosby, Hedekind, and Henry; Captains Parker, Brinton, andBarker; Lieutenants Donait, Hunnicutt, Boyd, and Greble, all of theUnited States Army; Major Roosevelt of the Marine Corps; CommanderBricker and Lieutenants Smith and Wilkinson of the Navy. HerbertHazeltine, William Iselin, and myself are civil Attachés, and HarryDodge and Lawrence Norton private secretaries to the Ambassador. TheTreasurer, Mr. Beazle, was at the Embassy as long ago as theFranco-Prussian war and the Commune, and has already lived through onesiege and capture of Paris. There are, of course, innumerablestenographers, bookkeepers, and the like. 

The other embassies and most of the consulates have fled. Theirmembers have left Paris more precipitately and with less dignity thanhas been shown even by the civil population. They all seemed to losetheir wits when the Germans drew near Paris; they made theirpreparations to depart in the most frantic haste; they were white offace and perspiring with nervousness. It is not a pleasant sight tosee strong men palsied with fright, but we have seen many such thesedays. Not a soul remains in the British Embassy or consulate to takecare of England's manifold interests. It seems strange that whenthousands of British heroes of the army are dying brave deaths on thefields of battle, not a single British hero was to be found in thediplomatic corps with nerve enough to risk the inconveniences of asiege. The Ambassador of another country, who fled with the crowd, left in spite of orders from his king absolutely directing him toremain. Apparently he has sacrificed his career to his fright, forthis king was so determined that his embassy at least should remain inParis that he has replaced this ambassador by another who has morecourage, --the new one is a soldier. 

These fleeing diplomats insult France by assuming that she is alreadyconquered, and insult the Germans by assuming that the lives of theaccredited plenipotentiaries of foreign nations would not be safe inthe hands of German soldiers. They also leave their own subjects inParis without a soul to represent them at a moment when they reallyneed a representative for the first time in decades. When thesemagnates have recomposed their minds in Bordeaux and have time toformulate excuses, they will probably say that they left Paris becauseit was their solemn duty to accompany the French Government; butyesterday, when they were asked why they were departing so swiftly, they could only cry: "The Germans are coming. "

Mr. Herrick looks on with calm amazement. Three days ago hetelegraphed Washington to ask for authorization to stay in Paris. Thereply left the matter to his own discretion. Thirty minutes later hewas in the cabinet of M. Delcassé to say that he would stay in Parisno matter what might come. It must have been a wonderful tableau whenthose two men faced each other across M. Delcassé's big desk. As Mr. Herrick stated that the American Embassy was positively to remain inParis, M. Delcassé's expression of calm dignity vanished in a flash. He stepped around his desk and shook Mr. Herrick eagerly by the hand. He said there were many precious memorials and many rare objects whichmight have their habitation in one spot like Paris, but whichnevertheless belonged to all civilized humanity, and that no diplomatcould perform a greater service to France and to mankind than to stayin Paris and do what could be done to protect these precious memorialsand objects from destruction--a destruction which might be avoided ifan authorized spokesman of that humanity were present to protest. 

 * * * * *

The stampede out of Paris grows hour by hour. It is a contagion andseizes all classes. A week ago it was a short street indeed which didnot boast at least one Red Cross Hospital; now most of them aredeserted, for the fashionable women who followed the fashion injoining hospitals have now again followed the fashion and fled, pell-mell. 

The newspaper men and the "war correspondents" have been particularlyconcerned for their own safety. By supreme efforts, I today managedto obtain conveyances to transport several of them out of thecity--men with sweat on their brows and hands that trembled. There isan element of humor in it all, despite the sadness. One of the staffremarked, "Do you notice how all the newspaper men, who for weeks havebeen pestering us with requests to be sent to the front, now demand asinsistently to be sent away, when the front is at last coming tothem?" In time of peace diplomats and war correspondents are easilythe most pugnacious people in the world. If one has taken them attheir own estimation the resulting contrast is painful. 

Today we took over the interests of Great Britain, Japan, andGuatemala. We have represented Germany, Austria, and Hungary since thebeginning of August, so that, including the United States, we are nowseven embassies in one. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, September 4th. _ Last evening all Paris awaited the "sixo'clock Taube" which has become for the French a regular and almostwelcome feature of each day's happenings. At four o'clock a Frenchaviator in a monoplane took the air and mounted up, up, up, in slowwide circles whose center was the Tour Eiffel, until he finallyreached an altitude of some 10, 000 feet. Then, a mere speck in thecold, thin air, he circled slowly around and around, waiting for theGerman--who never came. Even without this climax the situation wasthrilling enough. The Frenchman descended sadly from his lofty beatjust as night fell, while waiting Paris was distinctly disappointed. That night in the restaurants one heard Frenchmen express theextraordinary hope that nothing _too_ terrible had happened to braveLieutenant von Heidssen. 

 [Illustration: M. DELCASSÉ, FRANCE'S MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS [He is the most capable of France's statesmen, and was the prime mover in the formation of the Triple Entente. He has been three times Minister of Marine, once Minister of the Colonies, and five times Minister of Foreign Affairs]]

This morning Paris is informed that the Lieutenant had been punctuallyon his way to his daily appointment when, in flying over the Bois deVincennes, a rifle bullet had passed through his heart. Strange tosay, he planed down on a long steep slant, this man-bird, just as gamebirds do when similarly stricken, and landed without serious damage tohis machine. He was found sitting stone dead, strapped up in his seat. Such is the quick generosity of the French temperament that today heis mourned by all Paris, this Lieutenant von Heidssen, who died on hislonely way to keep his fifth punctual appointment with the city ofhis enemies. Paris actually regrets that he no longer comes at sixeach evening to throw bombs at her. 

 * * * * *

Mr. Herrick's remaining in Paris has been greeted with wonderfulappreciation and enthusiasm by the whole French nation. His picture isin all the newspapers and shop windows, and even the most humblemember of the Embassy shines by reflected glory. 

The diplomatic responsibilities resting on our Embassy become moreand more important, but everyone acknowledges that in each emergencyMr. Herrick shows himself equal to the situation. When the firstGerman aëroplane threw bombs at Paris, a wave of indignation andprotestation swept over the city. It was one of those waves ofexcitement which carry judgment before it. Citizens and officials, newspapers and posters, Frenchmen and Americans, all besought andbegged Mr. Herrick, "the courageous, the noble Mr. Herrick, " tomake formal protest to Washington. Everywhere one heard in angrytones the phrases: "brutality, " "contrary to the Hague Convention, ""killing non-combatants, " "barbarians. " Mr. Herrick decided thatthere was more danger in protesting too soon than of protesting toolate. He delayed long enough to consult his books and to confer withhis legal and military advisers. I was fortunate enough to be presentwhen he read the final summing-up of his conclusions. He haddiscovered that neither Germany nor France had signed the clauseof the Hague Convention forbidding aircraft to drop bombs on cities. Therefore, the law that non-combatants of a city must be warnedbefore any bombardment is begun did not, in the case of thesetwo nations, technically apply, whatever the considerations ofhumanity might dictate. 

Mr. Herrick did not protest, for there was legally nothing to protestabout. He forwarded verbatim to Washington the protests of the FrenchGovernment. 

One now sees many British and Belgian soldiers about Paris. They havecome in on the edges of the great retreat. Their morale is exactly thereverse of what one would expect in troops who have been badly beaten. They express great contempt for the German soldier. They describe himas a stupid, brutal, big-footed creature, who does not know how toshoot and who has a distaste for the bayonet. They seem unable tounderstand why they have been beaten by the Germans and try to explainit by saying, "There are so many of them. "

The Belgians, nearly all of whom have come from Liège and Namur, speakin the most awe-stricken terms of the effects of the big German siegeguns, which fire a shell 11. 2 inches in diameter. These guns wereplaced in distant valleys and could not be located by the Belgians. Moreover, they outranged the guns of the forts and could not have beeninjured even if they had been located. The forts thus lay hopeless andawaited their doom, which came suddenly enough in the shape of greatshells dropping out of the sky upon their cupolas. The explosionsmight have been approximated by combining an earthquake, a volcaniceruption, and a cyclone. 

Namur was surrounded by twelve forts. The bombardment began on aWednesday night and three of the forts were reduced to scrap in twodays. The Germans marched through the gap thus made and took the otherforts in the rear, so that in less than three days Namur wascompletely in their possession. This will undoubtedly be the systemused against Paris, and apparently there is no antidote. The fortscannot reply, for they cannot determine where the big guns arelocated; but meanwhile the big guns know the exact position of theforts, and they, moreover, outrange the forts. 

 * * * * *

Today I had an opportunity to talk with three British officersrecently arrived in Paris from that part of the front just this sideof Chantilly. They were incredibly grimy, dirty, and sweaty and weregreatly embarrassed thereby. They were of the first body of Britishtroops landed in France; they had met the Germans at Charleroi and hadbeen through the whole retreat of nearly one hundred and fifty miles, having been constantly in action for some two weeks. They summed uptheir experiences by saying that they had received "a hell of alicking. " This statement is rather over-modest since within a day orso we have learned that the British, numbering about sixty thousand, were opposed by four or five German army corps, amounting to twohundred thousand men, and that in spite of this the British hadretreated stubbornly, contesting every mile. 

A most extraordinary thing which these officers told me was that, during their whole retreat from Charleroi to Compiègne, they had neverseen a single French soldier nor received any assistance from theFrench army. One is tempted to wonder what would have happened ifthere had been no British army to help check the retreat toward Paris. 

British soldiers agree that they have received most extraordinaryhospitality from the civilians and peasantry of Belgium and France. Whole villages, themselves facing starvation, gave their last crumb ofbread and their last drop of wine to the British troops and cheerfullyslept in the fields in order that the soldiers might snatch a bit ofrest in their houses. 

All the officers with whom I have had the opportunity to talk agreethat the German losses have been enormous. I do not think that this isentirely patriotic exaggeration, since British officers are notparticularly prone to flights of fancy. One of them prefaced hisremarks on the retreat from Charleroi by saying, "The truth of thematter is, we got damn well licked, " and went on to say that his menshot and shot and shot until they became sick of killing, and thatthe Germans kept coming, always coming, their ranks riddled andsmashed by bullets and shells. The British all agree that the Germantroops have an unflinching, dogged, brutal courage, which nothingseems to daunt. They come on and on, climbing over the bodies of theregiments which have gone before. The German tactics are those ofNapoleon. They attack a position and they keep on attacking it untilthey take it, no matter what it costs; regiments and brigades arewiped out without any wavering in the commander's resolve or in thedogged persistence of his troops. 

In spite of the fact that they have been constantly beaten by Germantactics, the officers of the Allies persist in considering themantiquated and barbarous. They ascribe the German successes to theirbig guns and to the wonderfully efficient way in which their badtactics are carried out. They all agree that the German skill inconcentrating troops before an attack is wonderful. So far they havenever failed to have overwhelming numbers at any point of offense. 

CHAPTER III

WITH THE BRITISH ARMY. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE

_Paris, Sunday, September 6th. _ Since the French Government left Pariswe have been totally ignorant of all that is going on outside of thecity walls. For the past few days everything has been hazy rumor. During all last week we expected the Germans to march into Paris anyday; for their headquarters were at Compiègne, their heavy advance atSenlis and Coulomiers, and their cavalry at Pontoise and Chantilly. 

With the Germans only fifteen miles from the gates of Paris, thenewspapers make no definite mention of the fact, but fill their spacewith accounts of the great victories which the Russians think to winin Silicia. Rumor has it that the Germans have even encircled Parisand are at Fontainebleau to the south-southeast. This is highlyimprobable, but we have already seen that the wildest improbabilityof one day becomes an actuality the next. Everyone at the Embassy, andindeed all Paris, is desperately anxious for news. Even unfavorablenews would be better than this prolonged suspense. Everyone inquiresand wonders and queries, but no one knows what the real situationis--where the German army is stationed, what its next move may be, orif any of the Allied army is between it and Paris. 

After several days of great tension, desperately trying to the activeAmerican temperament, I decided that the easiest way to find out whatwas happening outside the city was to go and see. It was firstabsolutely necessary to obtain permission from the authorities ofParis to pass out of the gates--as without proper papers I wouldcertainly be arrested. I, by this time, knew personally many of thepolice officials in the city, having interviewed them hundreds oftimes in regard to German and Austrian internes. Finally I found onewho thought he knew me well enough to trust me with a pass. Heexplained that the garrison of Paris occupied a zone which extendedout from the walls ten miles in all directions. Outside this were themoving armies, and once beyond the defensive zone we could, at ourown risk, go where we chose. My permit stated that we were bound forLagny, which is about twelve miles from the gates and well outside thecircle of defense. I took one of the Embassy automobiles driven by askillful American amateur, Melvin Hall. He drove his own six-cylinderhigh-power car, carrying a light touring body. 

We left the city about four o'clock in the afternoon by the Porte deVincennes. Immediately we left the walls behind us, we found all theroads guarded by French troops and barred by elaborate obstructions. Every two or three minutes we were brought to a stop by little gatedforts built across the highway, which were loopholed for rifles andcommanded the road in both directions. These were designed to retardGerman scouting parties or halt German mitrailleuse automobiles. Thebarriers were built of an extraordinary variety of material: trees, paving-stones, barrels, carts, hen-coops, sandbags, boxes, andfence-rails. At each barrier were stationed a score or more ofsoldiers, and as one approached, one saw the gleam of bayonets andheard a sharp, imperative "Halte-là!" When we came to a full stop, twoor three of the sentinels would step out cautiously and suspiciously, their rifles all ready for action, while in a gingerly way theyexamined our papers. 

The barriers were usually placed in positions of strategic importance, on hills or ridges, and always one was found at each end of the mainthoroughfare of every village. All the side streets of the villageswere closed and fortified, and any opening between the outermosthouses was piled high with obstructions. Each little town within thefortified zone thus became itself a small fort, a complete circle ofdefense. We travelled along slowly for some ten miles, being haltedand examined about every half mile. Finally we came to a great trenchwhich ran across the fields on either side of the road. Facing awayfrom Paris, one looked over a valley, and in the distance coulddistinctly hear the boom of guns in action. 

We were now at the outer line of the defense zone, within which allthe roads, bridges, and valleys were held by infantry working inconjunction with the large forts placed at intervals in the greatcircle. Outside of this zone is open country in which battles arebeing fought; where and when, it was our aim to discover. 

At the trench where we halted, the men on guard were very much on thequi vive and the officers were busy with their field-glasses, for theyhad just received warning that German cavalry were in front of them inthe valley over which we looked. We stopped to talk for a few minuteswith the commanding officer, and then, releasing our brakes, slidquietly out in front of the trench, down the hill. 

It was silent and lonely in the valley; the whole countryside wasdesolate. We saw neither soldier nor civilian. The very air seemedcharged with disaster. In a few minutes we ran into Lagny, which wasabsolutely deserted. A curious sensation it is to enter a town havingall the marks of being inhabited and yet to sense the utter absence ofhuman beings. On the village square, however, we found the Mayor, who, like so many brave French officials throughout the country, had feltit his first duty to stand by his community, come what might to himpersonally. He told us that the Germans were spread all over thecountry between Lagny and the Meaux, ten miles away, and added thattheir cavalry had been through the town recently and might return anyminute. He then warned us that we could not cross the Marne, whichran through the village, because the bridges were all down. We, therefore, turned south toward Ferrières, at right angles to ouroriginal course, and parallel to the walls of Paris. 

Before reaching Ferrières, we again touched the outer lines of thefortified camp. Here a big standing trench was occupied by Frenchinfantry which had been in action with some German cavalry only a fewminutes before. The captain in command asked us to take a soldier whohad been wounded back to the brigade hospital some two or three milesto the rear. This we did gladly and found the hospital located in theschoolhouse of a small village. Here we also encountered a woundedEnglish private who was manifestly grateful to hear the sound of hisown language. The village was occupied by a large body of FrenchHussars who were there encamped. Some of them were rubbing down theirhorses, others were cooking supper. The gray smoke of the firesascending through the poplar trees, the bare-armed soldiers laboringover their mounts, the deserted houses, the litter of saddles andequipment, made a picture not soon to be forgotten. 

We returned to the entrenchments again, crossed them, and proceeded toFerrières, where we at last found a road which turned off to the east. We followed this for two miles, passing through the grounds of a largechâteau only to find the road barred by an impassable combination ofditches, barriers, and barbed wire. We went back again to Ferrières, which we learned had been the seat of the British General Staff onlythat morning, and from there continued southward for several miles toanother village called Pontcarré. Here at last we found a straight andopen road to the east. We turned down it at top speed, not having thefaintest idea of what was ahead, and ran for ten miles throughdeserted farming country in which the only signs of life were twoFrench cavalry patrols scouting through the woods. 

Just as night was falling, we approached Villeneuve-le-Comte. Watchfulsentries in khaki surrounded the village, and the fields around it onall sides were packed with British troops, who had just arrived andwere in the act of bivouacking for the night. From them we learnedthat the German army was less than three miles away at Crécy and thaton the morrow at dawn a great battle was to be staged. All the Allieshad been force-marching to get there in time. 

On every side camp fires gleamed out through the gray of the gloamingand their smoke mounted upward to mingle with the gray of the eveningsky above. Everywhere one saw men and horses blissfully resting afterthe long, hot, and dusty march. The men lay upon the ground with everymuscle relaxed, while the horses, with drooped heads, stood first onone tired hind foot and then upon the other. Long lines of motortrucks loaded with ammunition were parked along the gutters of all theroads and byways. Along the crowded highway a lane was, however, sacredly kept open, and men looked twice before they ventured to crossit. From time to time an orderly on a motor-cycle, carryinginstructions to subordinate commanders, would zip at a dizzy speeddown this narrow path which was flanked by almost unbroken walls ofmen, wagons, and lorries. 

The streets of the little French village were crowded full withkhaki-clad soldiers. A battalion of Highlanders were going throughinspection in the dusk. They now numbered only three hundred odd, buttwo weeks ago in Belgium they had been eleven hundred strong. Anofficer of another regiment informed us that he knew of no Britishbattalion in all history which had sustained such heavy losses and yetbeen able to maintain its formation and fight on. We watched withinterest the Scotchmen of that regiment file by after dismissal. Theywere incredibly tattered and torn, their kilts dirty and frayed; manyof them wore big, battered straw hats. The only things about themwhich were neat were their rifles, their bayonets, and theirclean-shaven faces. One could certainly have no doubts as to theexcellent state of their morale; we were, indeed, much impressed bythe morale of all these British troops who, notwithstanding the factthat they had been beaten back during two long weeks across a hundredand fifty miles of country and had been retreating until that verymorning, in no sense felt themselves defeated but eagerly awaited theword to advance and attack. 

We spent a profitable and long-to-be-remembered hour and a halftalking with the British officers and watching the troops. We hadbrought with us a supply of the two things they most craved--matchesand newspapers, and whenever any of these were distributed it nearlyproduced a riot. When a box of matches was handed out, two matcheswould, as long as they lasted, be given to each man of a company. 

Word was passed around that we were to return to Paris that evening, and first and last we were given some fifty notes written hurriedly bythe men who wished to send a last word to their homes before thebattle which was to begin on the morrow. We, of course, accepted thesenotes only with the permission of the officers. 

It was long after dark before we started back toward Paris. Mist andfog hung close to the ground, and it was a weird ride as we felt ourway through lonely woods and deserted villages, being continuallystopped by ditches or barbed wire or a barrier across the road. Oftenahead of us we would suddenly see bayonets flickering through the mistas our head-lights shone out upon them, and immediately the terse cryof "Halte-là!" followed; a sergeant would come forward, lantern inhand, to examine our papers and suspiciously look us over. All thetime we felt that a dozen unseen rifles were leveled at us fromsomewhere out in the dark. 

We re-entered Paris through the Porte de Vincennes at half-past eight. After dinner I made a report of our trip to Mr. Herrick, saying that agreat battle was about to begin; that the German armies formed a rightangle, the apex of which was near Meaux, while one side extended norththrough Senlis and the other ran almost due east; that between thisGerman army and Paris were stationed the British and French troops whowould retreat no farther but expected themselves to open the attack inthe morning. After the suspense of the past few days it is atremendous relief to have definite news. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, September 7th. _ For me all the world was this morningelectric with excitement. That Paris should go calmly about her dailyroutine, unconscious and unconcerned, seemed monstrous. I wanted tograsp everyone I met and cry: "The Germans are only twenty miles away!A great battle is even now being fought just outside the gates!--abattle on the issue of which hangs the fate of France--and much morethan France. If the thin line which stands between Paris and herenemies does not hold, this day sees France reduced to a second-ratePower and Paris will again hear the tramp of German armies marchingdown the Champs-Elysées!" My feet walked the familiar streets, butevery pulse-beat, every conscious thought was with the Allied armiesof defense with which I had so recently been in touch. The sense oftheir near presence and of their great conflict was much more vivid tome than the objects passing before my physical eyes. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, September 8th. _ I spent yesterday and today at the Embassysuperintending the card-indexing of the German internes. Think of cardcatalogues! and the battle, perhaps the world's greatest battle, raging no farther away than one might reach in an hour by automobile!

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, September 9th. _ Mr. Breckenridge, the American AssistantSecretary of War, has arrived in Paris, and with him came also ColonelAllen of the General Staff of the United States Army. Just as Ireached the limit of endurance in card-indexing, release came. 

Through the energy and activity of Mr. Breckenridge, a permit hasbeen obtained allowing Colonel Allen, Captain Parker, and myself toleave the city and view the battle which is raging outside. We are toobserve and study as much of the operations as possible, in order togather information useful to our army in America. 

We are allowed to take our own chauffeur, and Melvin Hall, at mysuggestion, has been chosen for this position. We hope to stay a weekand shall leave tomorrow, if the machine can be made ready for so longa trip in so short a time. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, September 10th. _ I had this morning a long talk withRichard Harding Davis. He has just arrived from Belgium and is atpresent striving to get permits to see the war in France. He said thatnever in his previous war experiences had he seen such unspeakableatrocities as the Germans have committed in Belgium. He speaks nearlyas vehemently about it as does Dr. Louis Seaman. He is the firstperson with whom I have had opportunity to talk who has actually beenin Belgium and saw the details of the violation of that country byGermany. 

Hall was today unable to complete the preparations on his automobile. On this trip, running through a region devastated by war, we dare notcount on finding gasoline, tires, or food, but must start well stockedwith all these essentials. We wish to keep going at least five or sixdays and probably shall find during that time no opportunity to refit. Hall is, therefore, loading up every spare corner of his automobilewith food, tires, and gasoline cans. 

The great cry of the troops at the front is for matches, cigarettes, and newspapers. I have purchased one hundred boxes of matches, onehundred and sixty newspapers, and six hundred cigarettes to distributeamong them as chance offers. 

It has been raining almost constantly this week. One cannot helpwondering what effect it has had upon the great battle out yonder, thebattle about which we still know so little, and of which we think soanxiously. 

CHAPTER IV

THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE

_Friday, September 11th. _ It still continues to rain much of the time. Today it developed into a drenching, pelting, soaking downpour, whichcontinued all day long. 

Colonel Allen, Captain Parker, and I had luncheon at the Grand Hotel. Hall arrived with the machine at two o'clock. He had packed into it, or tied to it, an immense stock of canned goods, biscuits, and bread, an incredible amount of gasoline, with a heavy overcoat and smallsatchel for each one of us, until the car looked more like acommissariat wagon than a touring car. We were bidden God-speed byMajor Henry, Captain Barker, and Lieut. Hunnicutt and by FrederickPalmer and Richard Harding Davis, when just before half-past two weshot out from the porte-cochère into the rain, prepared if necessaryto stay away a week. 

We ran rapidly to Lagny along an unobstructed route, where only a fewdays ago Hall and I had continually been held up by the barriers andtroops of the defensive zone. We had then not been permitted to travelhalf a mile without being halted. Today what a change! We saw notroops at all in this defensive zone and with a thrill we thusrealized that the battle must be going favorably for the Allies. 

Between the Porte de Vincennes and Lagny our papers were examined onlyonce, by a solitary sentry on the bridge at Bry-sur-Marne. It isevident that the Germans have either been beaten back or have chosento retire from the neighborhood. From Lagny we passed rapidly toVilleneuve-le-Comte, which was now totally devoid of troops. At Crécywe came upon the first signs of war. Here we saw a big park of Britishreserve ammunition. All along the roads were the remains of a Germanfield telephone line, which had doubtless been constructed about thetime Hall and I had been in Villeneuve on Sunday. 

 * * * * *

All day the rain continued to pour in torrents. 

 * * * * *

Our machine rolled over the brow of a hilltop and below us in a hollowwe saw the little village of Rebais. The road straight before usgently sloped down to the hamlet, passing through it as its principalstreet. Yesterday there had been heavy fighting in and around thetown; French troops had entered it and advanced through it under heavyfire. There were great black holes in the roofs and walls and theground was littered with bits of glass and slate. The village lay verystill and motionless in the pelting rain. We glanced up each of itslanes as we glided by, and in each the bodies of numerous dead Frenchsoldiers lay sodden in the mud, with their red legs sticking out inattitudes of ludicrous ghastliness. A line of ammunition wagons half amile long was parked at the side of the village street and the horseswere picketed in long lines in the adjacent gardens and fields. 

On the right there was a level mowed field along the edge of which theteamsters were huddled over campfires, cooking. Beginning a few yardsbehind them the field was strewn with dead soldiers lying monstrouslyconspicuous on the bare ground. On the far side of the field half amile away was a jumble of houses, trees, and fences, and here Germaninfantry supported by two batteries had the day before taken up aposition. A battalion of the 17th French Line Regiment had chargedacross the flat field into their teeth. We were told that in thischarge they had lost fifty per cent. Of their men but had gone onundaunted, and had "got home" _à la bayonette_, capturing the positionand a number of prisoners. 

We walked silently among the dead. Where the casualties had beenheaviest, we counted seventeen bodies within a circle thirty paces indiameter. Every man of the group had fallen forward with his bayonetpointing straight out in front of him. Some had been running with such_élan_ that in falling their shoulders had fairly plowed into the softground. They had nearly all been killed by shrapnel fire, which inmost cases had killed cleanly. We found one, however, who had beenbadly mashed by a shell which had burst in the ground at his feet, making a deep, oblong hole six feet long into which his shattered bodyhad fallen. The metal identification tags, one of which every soldierwears, had not been collected. These are removed by the burying squad, and sent home as announcers of the decease. This group had all beenso recently killed that their faces were very lifelike. One foundoneself repeating "How natural they look!" and one could pretty welljudge what sort of men they had been in life. Here was a slightsmooth-faced blond-haired boy, who must have been dearly beloved bythe women of his family. Here again a serious, kindly, middle-aged manwhose face bore a curious expression of preoccupation. I caught myselfthinking, "I should like to have known him. " We found one who in hisdying agony had evidently taken from his pocket a letter which now laya sodden mass in his dead hand. We could not resist that mute appeal, but picked the letter carefully from his stiff fingers to be dried outlater and delivered, if possible, to the woman to whom it wasaddressed. 

As one looked at all these useless, cumbersome bits of carrion whichno one in the rush of war had had time to remove, one could not butremember how each one had been suddenly wrenched from a useful lifeand in death had somewhere left a broken family. The dead do not havethe tragic expressions with which painters credit them. Those whohave been instantly killed generally wear grotesque expressions. Somelook bored--others have a silly look of surprise, as if a practicaljoke had just been played upon them. These grotesque expressions aremuch more frightful than could be any indicative of suffering. Thosewho have died slowly are usually propped up against something in asitting posture, and their faces express happiness or perfect peace. 

 * * * * *

We passed beyond the position which the Germans had recently held. Here beside the road was a farmer's house with a great hole in itsroof. In the door stood a very old man gazing stupidly at thelandscape. In front of his house lay side by side three dead Germans. They lay on their backs; the coat and shirt of each had been torn openat the neck and their bare breasts were marred by a clotted mass ofclosely grouped bullet marks. Further inspection showed that theirarms were tied behind them and we knew that we were witnessing theresults of a military execution. The old man against whose house theyhad been shot explained that they had been among the prisoners takenin the charge of the French infantry the day before and that theirfate had been the penalty for what was revealed when their pockets hadbeen searched. 

 * * * * *

We cross-questioned several inhabitants of the little village ofBoissy, who told us that the Germans had held the place for five daysand had left only two days ago, on Wednesday evening. Fleeing at theapproach of a heavy force of the British, they had retired in anortheasterly direction. We judged from the description given by thepeasants that the force which had occupied the neighborhood consistedof a division of cavalry with a strong force of artillery. In enteringBoissy the Germans had cornered a patrol of about twenty Britishcavalrymen and had killed them all, the last three having defendedthemselves in a little brick house where they had been shot down oneby one. The Germans had burned this house and the two adjoining onesin order to make sure that no more troopers were in hiding. We sawonly one other building in the village which had been damaged. Theinhabitants explained that it was a jewelry shop and that the invadershad wrecked it hoping to find hidden valuables. We did not have timeto investigate this statement. There had been no fighting in thestreets other than the battle with the British patrol and weconsidered the condition of the place a credit to the force which hadoccupied it. The inhabitants, indeed, protested that all food supplieshad been confiscated but agreed that no civilians had been injured andthat no women had been molested. 

As we approached Montmirail, we passed a beautiful monument, dedicatedto Napoleon, who had directed a battle from that spot in 1814, onehundred years ago. A golden eagle surmounted a column which stood upona stepped base. The fields about were plowed by shells and yesterdayone shell had knocked a big chunk off the side of the column abouthalf-way up. Leaning against the base, in an attitude of infiniteweariness, sat a dead French soldier. 

 * * * * *

Much of the dismal aftermath of battle seems to be concentrated alongthe highways, which are punctuated by dead men and dead horses throwninto the gutters to be out of the way. Long trains of horse-drawnwagons plod wearily along toward the front; the towns through whichthey pass are battered and nearly deserted; the poplars which linethe roads are broken and gashed by shells, and the fields on eitherside are marred by shell craters and by the trenches of the buryingsquads. 

We entered the shattered town of Montmirail at nightfall. Long linesof ammunition wagons were encamped for the night just outside and thetown itself was packed with troops. The place had been for eighteenconsecutive hours under a heavy artillery bombardment. The houses werebattered, the streets were pitted by shells, and there remained in thewhole village not a single unbroken window. There had been muchfighting in the streets and the place had been alternately taken andretaken by Germans and French. 

All accommodation in the town had by one blanket order beenrequisitioned for the military. We plowed our way through rain and mudto the office of the Mayor who kindly assigned us to rooms, giving uswritten orders on the owners, who turned out to be a quaint old Frenchshirtmaker and his wife. Hall and I went scouting around through theplace and managed to get hold of a fourteen-sou loaf of bread and twobottles of wine which served as supper, thus saving our own precioussupplies for future emergencies. Before returning, we visited twocafés which were jammed with soldiery, from whom we managed to glean alot of very interesting information. They all spoke with the greatestrespect, admiration, and affection of their field artillery, "lesoixante-quinze. "

 * * * * *

Provisions were very scarce. We saw a Turco, who had apparently losthis regiment and who spoke scarcely any French, vainly trying to findsome food. He walked about through the cafés waving a one hundredfranc note in each hand and ceaselessly demanding something to eat. 

 * * * * *

After supper a council of war was held in order to decide upon ourcourse of action for the morrow. Captain Parker was eager to hunt fora vortex of the battle where, he held, the primary decision must havebeen lost and won and the fighting would have been most intense; whilethe action on all the other parts of the line must have beencontingent upon the results at this "tactical center. " This "focus"could not have been to the north or west of Paris, because the greatbodies of French troops are to the east; nor was it on the battleline nearest Paris, for everything we saw today in and behind the zoneof operations testified to the contrary. In all the actions we have sofar observed, the Germans were retiring deliberately in a retreatevidently determined by some ulterior cause. We noted many placeswhere severe fighting had taken place, but in every case it bore theunmistakable signs of being merely a hotly contested rearguard action. We so far have neither seen nor heard of any great German defeat suchas must somewhere have occurred in order to start a general retreat, and to force such numerous rearguard actions. A victorious German armydoes not suddenly begin to retire unless compelled to do so by agigantic and crushing defeat at some one point; such a defeat mustmean days of losses so frightful that the beaten army is physicallyexhausted and its morale shaken. 

From a military point of view it was of vital importance to discoverthis spot and to study the battlefield for lessons in tactics. CaptainParker maintained that it would be more profitable to find this centerthan to give way to our inclination to go forward into the actualfighting; that if we could locate it, it would be best to stay uponthe abandoned field of the German defeat to study how the battle hadbeen fought. He pointed out that the opportunity would be equivalentto being upon the field of Waterloo or Gettysburg the day after actionceased. As a result of the conference, it was finally decided toaccept Captain Parker's contention and hunt for the battlefield of thegreat and decisive French victory, rather than to turn north towardthe constant booming of cannon. We shall, therefore, continue to workour way to the eastward toward Chalons-sur-Marne, beating back andforth across the country and carefully covering all the ground. 

 * * * * *

_At the Front, Saturday, September 12th. _ We slept last night in bedswhich had recently been occupied by German officers and spent a verychilly night therein on account of the cold, wet wind which blew inthrough the many shattered windows. We woke to the rumbling of distantcannon, which might more correctly be called a trembling of the airrather than a true sound. Still hoarding our provisions, we ate afrugal breakfast of stale bread and of tea made from the dried leavesof linden trees. We started off at half-past seven, receiving a veryfriendly God-speed from our aged host and hostess. 

All morning we made our way in an easterly direction, beating back andforth across the country in order to cover as much ground as possible. When we turned to the north the sound of cannon became louder and whenwe swung to the south it grew fainter. We studied the countrycarefully and, when possible, talked with any of the Allied officerswe chanced to meet. They usually knew thoroughly the events which hadtaken place in the particular neighborhood in which they had operated, but were astonishingly ignorant of what had gone on at any distance. What they told us was always very valuable, because it assisted us topiece together the fabric of the campaign as a whole. 

 * * * * *

Beyond Vauchamps we came upon a scene where there had been heavyartillery fighting. The fields were plowed up by innumerable shellsand many dead horses were strewn along the gutters, with here andthere a dead soldier who had fallen in the road and been hurriedlythrown aside so that he should not hinder traffic. 

The highway was elevated a bit above the level country which stretchedon either side, and at one spot we saw where two German guns hadfought from behind this slight protection. They had been placed inholes sunk a few inches into the ground, and the loose earth had beenpiled up to form a little mound in front, preventing bullets fromflying under the gun shield. Empty cartridge cases were strewn aboutand a pile of unused ammunition was stacked up like cordwood. TheGerman guns had been in sight of a French battery across the fieldsand a direct-fire artillery duel had taken place between the two. Thecraters of thirty-two French shells were within twenty paces of theemplacements and the ground was strewn with splinters and shrapnelcases. There were several very dead German artillerymen who hadevidently been working the guns when direct hits had been made uponthe material of the battery. No limbers or caissons had been with theguns, but a caisson had been placed in a field about two hundred yardsbehind, and men ran up and down across the field carrying ammunitionin wicker baskets, each of which holds three shells. We picked up fourof these shell baskets as curiosities and managed to find room forthem in our machine. 

 * * * * *

As we advanced we became more and more convinced of the correctness ofCapt. Parker's theory that there had been a big focal center of thebattle somewhere still to the east of us, and that the actions alongthe rest of the line of contact from Paris to Lorraine had occurredwith reference to this vortex. 

It is characteristic of the limited knowledge which troops in battlehave of what goes on outside of their immediate geographical vicinity, that we ran almost into the great battle area for which we weresearching before anyone gave us a hint of its location. It was atVertus that we were told by a French officer that terrific fightinghad taken place in the upland plateau to the south of us, around aplace called Fère Champenoise; that the Germans had there made theirmain attack with close to a quarter of a million men; that a frightfulbattle had raged, a battle in which the Germans were at first, duringsome thirty-six hours, victorious, but that, with the arrival ofreinforcements, the Ninth French Army under General Foch had turnedthe tide and finally routed them. The officers said that the fightingand slaughter had been frightful; that the combined casualties of thetwo sides were close to two hundred thousand on a front of somethingover twenty miles and a depth of about fifteen miles. They said thatthe battle area was contained roughly within a circumference drawnthrough the villages of Champaubert, Coligny, Pierre-Morains, Clamanges, Sommesous, Gourgançon, Corroy, and Sézanne. 

 [Illustration: "THE DEAD WERE SCATTERED FAR AND WIDE" [Our automobile on one of the battlefields of the Marne]]

As we conferred with the officers a constant stream of reinforcementsfor the French army was passing, coming from Fère Champenoise andmarching toward Ay and Epernay; regiments of infantry, ammunitiontrains, caissons, transports, and cavalry, all marching endlesslytoward the booming guns to the northward. 

We turned our machine to the south with a feeling of the greatest aweat the thought of what two hundred thousand casualties must mean. Wewere silent for some minutes as the machine sped along, and thenCaptain Parker remarked: "At Gettysburg or at Waterloo the totalforces engaged amounted to only about one hundred and sixty thousand!"

We ran toward the slope of the plateau, passing slowly an endless, unbroken line of transports. Beyond Bergères-Les-Vertus an infantrybrigade was resting beside the road and the tired men were cooking andeating. 

 * * * * *

We tried to comprehend the battle as a whole by studying a great manyfields, any one of which would a few years ago have been considered anentire battle in itself. The dead were scattered far and wide; and inthe fields and among the grain-stacks the wounded cried out theirpiteous faint appeals. Little groups of German stragglers were hidingin the forests, and squads of alert French soldiers hunted them down, beating through the cover as eager setter dogs search for grouse. Inone field of about six acres lay nine hundred German dead and wounded;across another, where a close-action fight had raged, two hundredFrench and Germans lay mixed together, all mashed and ripped. Here wasthe curious sight of a German and Frenchman lying face to face, bothdead, and each one transfixed by the other's bayonet. 

The very birds of the air and the beasts of the field lay dead androtting amid the general destruction. We saw feathers and bits ofchickens and halves of cows. On one occasion Hall maintained that "it"had been a cow, while I thought "it" was a horse, and no piece largeenough for a certain identification could be found. Of some of thevillages which had been peaceful and beautiful a week ago, thereremained now only chimneys, ashes, and bits of walls rising fromsmouldering gray débris. A French village wrecked by battle looks verymuch wrecked indeed, in contrast with its habitual orderly andtoy-like appearance. 

I was not so horrified in viewing these ghastly sights as I hadexpected, because I could not put from me a sense of their unreality. The human mind is incapable of comprehending to the full such terriblehappenings. One kept endlessly saying to oneself: "Can all this whichwe are seeing really have taken place in this once quiet Frenchcountryside, almost within the suburbs of Paris? It seemsimpossible--unbelievable!"

 * * * * *

In the little upland village of Clamanges was a field hospital whichhad been established by the Germans when they first occupied the placeon the night of September 7th. They had held it until their retreaton the 10th, when their retirement was so precipitate that they hadbeen unable to take with them their wounded. 

In this war it is the custom to convert the village churches intohospitals. The chairs and benches are thrown out into the graveyardand the floor is covered with straw upon which the wounded are laid inlong rows extending the length of the nave. The altar is convertedinto the pharmacist's headquarters and bottles and medicaments arepiled thereon, while bandages, for want of room, are sometimes hungupon the statue of the Virgin, who has, in this unique service, an airof sublime and compassionate contentment. An operating room is usuallyestablished in the vestry or in the Parish House and a Red Cross flagis hung from the steeple. Any shell holes in the roofs and walls arestopped with sections of tenting. As we approached Clamanges, wedetected a sickening, subtle, sweetish odor which crept stealthily tous through the air and filled us with an insinuating disgust. TheColonel said simply, "That is gangrene. "

The streets of the village were muddy and littered, and there wereinnumerable ominous flies everywhere. The town was crammed withGerman wounded. In the church long rows of them, touching feet to headand arm to arm, so that the attendants had to step gingerly between asthey made their slow way about. The neighboring peasant houses werepacked full with the overflow. In the halls lay the bodies of men whohad died of gangrene, and as no one had time to attend to the dead, the piles of them grew and increased. We were told that there werethirteen hundred wounded in the village, among whom labored sixtyattendants. They were all severely wounded, since the Germans haddragged with them all their slightly wounded, these being good assets. 

What had once been a little rose garden was piled high with a giganticheap of bloody accoutrements which had been taken from wounded men asthey were brought in. Under a tree in a corner of the churchyard asurgeon had set up a big kitchen table which he used for operations;the ground underneath was black and caked. In a near by corner of thechurch walls was a great pile of boots and stained clothes which hadbeen cut from shattered limbs, and I expect one might have discoveredeven more ghastly objects had one ventured to turn over the rags. Theattendants were nearly all French, although two German doctors andseveral German orderlies had stayed behind with their wounded. Allworked heroically to cope with their great task. 

In the rush of battle it had been impossible to obtain food for thewounded, so that for days these men had gone hungry, and one heard theagonizing sound of dying men crying piteously for bread. The Frenchattendants themselves went hungry in order to give their charges suchsmall pittances of food as were obtainable. We watched an orderly whoentered the church with a single loaf of bread which had just beensecured and which was to be divided among several hundred wounded. Heused a great knife as if he hoped to make up for the smallness of thesupply by the largeness of the implement. Slowly and with sober carehe cut slice after slice, each one so thin that the light shonethrough it. Every head was turned toward him and each burning pair ofeyes was fixed upon the precious bread with an expression of animaldumbness, which reminded one of the intent eyes of a hungry dog as itwatches a hoped-for morsel. As he advanced step by step, the woundedstretched up shriveled hands, or propped themselves on one elbow tomake more appealing gestures, their faces all contorted by the painsthe movement caused them. They made no sound, for their attention wastoo intently fixed upon that bread. One, however, who had beenoverlooked, burst into screams and wailings until the mistake had beenproperly remedied. We Americans held a Council of War and unanimouslydecided to contribute our jealously hoarded supply of provisions; wethereby became as angels in the eyes of those poor creatures. A Frenchattendant remarked as he handed a sliver of our only loaf of bread toa shattered man: "Il va mourir tout à l'heure, mais cela lui feragrand plaisir en mourant!"

The dying are frightful sights, and parts of them are often alreadymortified, as they lie in the straw, entirely occupied with breathing. They breathe eternally little short breaths, a hundred or a hundredand ten to the minute, like some sort of pump. They wish passionatelynot to die, and yet they know with desperate certainty that they aregoing to die. They lie down there in a tiny, little black hell oftheir own and fight with all their might and main, feeling that theywill die instantly if they skip one little short breath. (I was goingto say they fight with all their soul and body, but they no longerreally possess either of these). They have no time to speak, orlisten, or move, or be helped, as every particle of energy must beused for the next respiration. A jumbled heap lies in the strawcovered with a blanket to keep off the flies. An attendant looks atits side in search of the fluttering little pulsation of breath. If itis there, "he" is living; if all is still, "it" is dead, and theycarry it out and dump it in the hall with the other bodies. 

 * * * * *

The little village of Ecury-le-Repos had been deserted by every onebut its Mayor, who mistook us for Germans, and as such faced usbravely and with dignity. He very correctly refused to believe that wewere not of the enemy until he had examined our papers. His villagewas not a pleasant sight. He said that it had been taken and retakenmany times and that there had been fighting in its streets as recentlyas yesterday; its houses were battered and rent by shells and manyhad burned down and still smouldered; no earthquake could have ruinedthem more thoroughly. The narrow village streets were littered ankledeep with a muddy, rotting pot-pourri in which one detected brokenglass, bits of brick, cartridges, roof slates, broken bottles, shredsof clothing, shells, fragments, shrapnel cases, and kepis. Dead menlay in the gutters, covered with filth to such an extent that onealmost failed to recognize what they were. 

In their last retreat the Germans had dragged their desperatelywounded into halls and doorways in order that they might be out fromunder foot, and there they still lay. Half of them were mercifullyalready dead. We looked into one hallway only. Here amidst a stiflingstench, five Germans were propped up; three were dead and the othertwo barely alive; all were covered black with flies and the living andthe dead were eaten by white, weaving masses of maggots. 

Ecury-le-Repos is situated in a little circular hollow, with elevatedtable-lands all around. Here where the table-lands begin to dip down, the Germans had defended themselves against the advancing French. Asthey faced southward toward the oncoming enemy, they had the villagein its cup-like hollow at their backs. At one point German infantry tothe number of about two hundred had been placed on the crest facingacross the bare level plateau, while in front of them some two hundredand fifty paces distant was a pine wood through which the French wereadvancing. The Germans had evidently had no time to entrench but hadquickly lain down in skirmish order in the outer edge of a potatofield; each soldier had then pushed up in front of him, as protection, a little heap of potatoes and loose earth. A hundred paces to theright of this German skirmish line, two mitrailleuses had beenskillfully thrust forward some fifty yards in advance, and concealedin small trenches hurriedly dug. They could thus fire across the frontof their own infantry and take in the flank any French who advanced. This action was one of a series which had taken place along this lineof hills. The German flanks were not unprotected, but owing to thefact that the country was much broken and obscured by woods, such aforce would be partly hidden from its neighbors to the right and left, and largely independent in repelling any attack made against it. 

A body of French infantry three to four hundred strong had advanced tothe edge of the woods, facing the Germans, and had there taken up askirmish position. The opposing bodies had then fired at each other acollective total of about twenty-five thousand rounds across aperfectly flat field. We were able to estimate the number of menengaged on either side from the impressions which their feet, elbows, and bodies had made in the soft earth, and we could judge how manyrounds per man had been fired by counting the little piles of emptycartridges which had accumulated beside each rifleman. When we arrivedupon the scene the wounded had nearly all been removed, but the deadwere still untouched, and we were able to see that, as a result ofthis fusillade of twenty-five thousand rounds, only three Germans andsix Frenchmen had been killed outright. 

After this rifle contest, the French had made a bayonet charge acrossthe open. The Germans had fired until the French had advanced abouthalf way and had hit a score, after which they temporarily ceasedfiring and the French then promptly "charged home. " The two Germanmitrailleuses were unperceived by the advancing French, and as theFrench passed them in flank, the mitrailleuses opened fire; at thesame moment the Germans suddenly fired a scattering rifle volley. Attacked in front and on the flank, every Frenchman but one was hit, and sixty dead still lay in a row across the field as if cut down by amowing machine. The sole survivor of the fatal cross-fire was a boywith a tiny black moustache. Undaunted, he had charged alone in amongthe Germans and had received many bayonets in his heroic body. He layon his back among the German cartridges fifty yards ahead of the rowof his dead comrades. 

Behind the crest of the plateau we could see the emplacements of fourguns at intervals of about forty yards, but they had not been used inthis engagement and may have been shelling some more distantobjective. 

Before leaving this field we gathered a quantity of potatoes and putthem in the German shell baskets which we had picked up earlier in theday, in order that our gift to the field hospital might not leave ustotally without food. We felt rather unhappy at not being able to payfor them, but "à la guerre comme à la guerre. "

 * * * * *

Just outside of Fère Champenoise on the road running west towardBroussy-le-Grand, we came upon the scene of an action in which thecasualties had been exceedingly heavy. The neighborhood was absolutelydeserted and as the wounded had been removed and there were nopeasants about we could find no one to elucidate for us what had takenplace. The action was not easy to unravel and the followingconclusions were unverified by any eyewitnesses. 

We, however, judged by the condition of the dead and othercircumstantial evidence that the fight had taken place at the verybeginning of the great battle--that is, on the morning of Tuesday, the8th, when the French were slowly pushed back from the vicinity of FèreChampenoise. The road ran through the middle of an open field, withheavy forests on either side, some three hundred yards away to thenorth and south. A French regiment had evidently taken up a defensiveposition to the left of the road and parallel with it, thus facingthe woods to the north and some four hundred yards away. These woodswere held by a regiment of Imperial Guard and a battery of artilleryhad been placed some three hundred yards behind them. The Guards hadadvanced one hundred and fifty yards into the open and then formed afiring-line. In some inexplicable manner they had accomplished thismanoeuvre without casualties. 

The two firing-lines were thus facing one another across two hundredand fifty yards of open field; the men lying shoulder to shoulder wereplainly visible to their opponents. The German firing-line was markedby nine dead. The shooting of the Guard was excellent and thus inmarked contrast to the poor shooting of other German organizationswhich we had observed. The French position was marked by more thanthree hundred dead, and the roots and lower branches of some pinesaplings near by were riddled with bullets; indeed, some of these hadactually been cut down by rifle fire, and I estimated that there wason an average at least one bullet for every two square inches of bark. Nearly all the French must have been put out of action before theGermans finally charged, for the latter had only some twenty menkilled in crossing the open to the French position. This is such asmall loss to suffer when pushing home a bayonet charge, that the onlyexplanation would be that few French were left to resist this finaldash. In one place there was a pile of eleven dead Frenchmen who hadevidently been killed in a desperate last stand. 

Throughout this action the French had manifestly stood their groundvery stubbornly, despite desperate losses, and had at no time brokenor retreated. There were only ten dead behind their firing-line andthese had been killed with the bayonet while fighting in the open. Another French regiment adjacent to them, in some woods farther west, had suffered no less heavily, and the woods were here literally dottedwith the bodies of the dead. Our conclusion was that all the Frenchmenhad been put out of action. It should be remembered that the ratio ofwounded to killed is at least four to one. Colonel Allen said that hecould not imagine worse destruction than these two regiments suffered. Evidently it was part of the price the French army so willingly paidfor their great victory. 

 * * * * *

We followed along the Petit Morin and the marshes of St. Gond. Herenot far from Soizy-aux-Bois had been a furious bayonet fight in whicha French colonial brigade had carried the German positions. At onepoint a regiment of Turcos had advanced across the Petit Morin andcharged to the bare hill toward a long well-made trench held by abattalion of German infantry whose fire had not deterred them. As theTurcos closed in, the Germans jumped out of their trench and re-formedin a line behind it, but broke at the first shock of the Africans, whocame on screaming, their knives and bayonets much in evidence. A sceneof frightful carnage ensued as the rout spread along the hill. TheTurcos chased the Germans over the fields and through neighboringwoods, killing them right and left. The total casualties in theneighborhood must have been more than three thousand, the Germansbeing much the heavier losers. 

I have read of such bayonet fights, but have always doubted theirpossibility in modern war. I have supposed that in close-rangefighting a few men might be bayoneted, but that the majority of thecasualties would be from gunshot wounds. In this mêlée, however, most of the wounds were inflicted with the bayonet, and frightfulwounds they were. Many on both sides had been pierced through theface, neck, and skull. The head of one German officer who had notfled with his men, but had bravely fought on single-handed, hadbeen completely transfixed by a bayonet, which had entered throughthe eagle on the front of his helmet and passed through his skulland out behind. 

[Illustration: THE COMMON GRAVE OF NINE HUNDRED DEAD NEARSOIZY-AUX-BOIS]

 * * * * *

After passing through many scenes of horror, we arrived at the castleof Mondemont which is near Allemant, and caps the summit of a steepwooded hill overlooking the marshes of St. Gond. It was a Louis XV. Château, but is now a mass of shattered ruins. Around it had beenelaborate gardens with many paths, alleys, carp ponds, flower-beds, hedges, and walls. From its elevated position it commanded the valleysbeneath. It had without much difficulty been captured by the Germansas they advanced southward, and when they later retreated to the northagain they had left here a rearguard to hold back the victoriousFrench. 

All through the disastrous afternoon of Wednesday the 9th, theseGermans had defended Mondemont against a furious cannonade and in theface of infantry assaults which, in some cases, had to be repulsedwith the bayonet. Meanwhile, the main German armies retreated manymiles until on Thursday morning this heroic rearguard found itselfhopelessly surrounded on all sides. The French commanders summoned theplace to surrender, explaining that further resistance was madness, but were met by a firm refusal, whereupon the Germans were subjectedto a most terrific bombardment by cannon, large and small. In all atleast ten thousand shells were fired at the château until it wasreduced to a pile of rubbish. Even the garden walls remained standingonly in isolated spots, and the surrounding forest was so completelywrecked that great boughs and whole trees lay criss-crossed in aninextricable tangle. 

Near the château there was a field several acres in extent and in italone we counted about a thousand craters which had been made by bigshells. The road which passed in front of the château was full ofgreat holes twenty feet in circumference blown out of the solidmacadam. After this bombardment, a desperate infantry assault rolledup the hill and captured it, but only after a frightful mêlée inwhich the defenders fought and died to the last man. I noticed ashutter remaining upon one window of the château which had beenpierced by fifty-two bullets. By a singular chance there was one roomwhich had been little damaged. In it as we entered there stood a tableat which the German officers had been eating when interrupted by thefinal attack; their knives and forks lay on the plates, which stillheld meat and carrots, partly eaten, and wine half filled the glasses;two of the chairs had been hurriedly pushed back from the table, whilea third, overturned, lay upon its side. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, September 13th. _ We spent the night at Bar-sur-Seine, sleeping in the hallway of a little hotel, and next morning went tothe headquarters of General Joffre which, during the battle, were atChâtillon-sur-Seine. 

 * * * * *

We returned to the battlefields in the neighborhood of FèreChampenoise early in the afternoon. 

 * * * * *

We entered Fère Champenoise for the second time after dark, meaning tospend the night there. The town was packed with transport wagons andtroops. All the houses were dark, the only illumination being fromlamps on wagons and automobiles which stood in the market-place andalong the main highway through the town. 

It had rained nearly all day and was still raining, and although wewere loath to sleep outdoors or in the automobile, we at first saw nopossibility of finding lodgings elsewhere. Captain Parker and I leftthe machine and started to reconnoitre through the side streets. Therain, the low-hanging clouds, and the high walls of the houses, allcombined to make the bottom of the deep narrow streets blacker thanany blackness I have ever experienced. The darkness was so dense thatit seemed to have body and solidity, and one walked as if totallyblind. The streets were alive with invisible soldiers, whom one heardbreathing in the damp darkness and with whom one continually collided. High above the roofs of the houses a distant glow was reflected uponthe falling rain by fires where they were burning the dead. 

Few of the inhabitants had yet returned to the town and we were unableto find anyone who could tell us where to locate the Mayor. All thehouses were tightly shuttered and nearly all were empty, thoughoccasionally a faint suggestion of light showed through the crackunder the door. When we beat a summons on such an entrance we nevergained anything more satisfactory in the way of a response than agruff and muffled statement that "la maison est déjà toute pleine desoldats. " We persevered, however, and our efforts were finallyrewarded, for we at last met an old woman to whom we could explain ourdilemma. She seemed interested in our plight and, pointing to a manwho was approaching and whom we discerned by the faint light of adingy lantern which he was carrying, said: "Voila mon patron. Je luiexpliquerai ce que c'est!" A whispered conversation followed, and thenwe were introduced to M. Achille Guyot, one of the leading citizens ofthe town, a champagne manufacturer of prominence and a man who provedto be a splendid example of French fortitude and chivalry. 

In the darkness we groped for each other's hands, and M. Guyot, withthe greatest politeness, said that he would be charmed to have ussleep beneath his roof. He apologized because he had little but theroof to offer since "Les Allemands ont tout bouleversé. " He suggestedhesitatingly that we should also sup with him before retiring, andagain apologized, saying: "Les Allemands ont tout pris. " We remarkedthat we possessed a great many potatoes and would gladly contributethem to increase the bulk of the repast. This greatly relieved hismind, as he confessed that he had almost nothing to offer, but sincewe had so many potatoes they would be gratefully accepted. 

We followed him to his residence, which proved to be a very largemansion with a great garden in front and a larger one behind. As we entered the house the rays of the lantern revealed a mostextraordinary sight. All the villagers who had remained in town agreedthat this house had been occupied by German officers and that inleaving they had carried out much loot. The Teuton taste has beenchiefly for enamels and lingerie. The interior of the house lookedmore like a pig-sty than a human dwelling. The Germans had broken alllocks and emptied the contents of all bureaus, closets, and desks uponthe floor, the more easily to pick and choose what they wanted. Thefloors were covered ankle-deep in the resulting litter which wascomposed of everything from lace to daguerreotypes, from bric-à-bracto hosiery. The relics and treasures of past generations of theowner's family carpeted the house, until each room seemed in a worsestate than the last, and the whole was altogether a most superlativemess. M. Guyot had shoveled paths through the different rooms as oneshovels through several inches of newly fallen snow. 

We stood in amazement that anyone could so completely have turnedupside down an orderly house. As an example of absolute disorder, thedining-room was a veritable work of art. The German orderlies hadevidently prepared and served four or five meals to their officers. Each time they had set the table with fine linen and old china andthen as soon as the repast was over had taken up the tablecloth by itsedges and corners and had thrown it with the china, bottles, linen, tableware, dirty dishes, and remnants of food, into a corner of theroom. At each succeeding meal the process had been repeated with a newsetting of china and fresh linen from the nearly inexhaustiblesupplies with which the house was furnished. This was housekeepingreduced by German "efficiency" to its simplest terms. The same"efficiency" had been employed in the kitchen where each meal had beenprepared with a fresh set of cooking utensils which, after use, hadbeen piled up under the tables and sinks, together with such débris aspotato peels and coffee grounds. Perhaps a good housekeeper would havebeen most disgusted by the condition of the kitchen; to me thedining-room, where the post-mortems of meals were added to the resultsof pillaging, seemed the more shocking. 

The house contained a dozen large bedrooms and all the beds had beenslept in by Germans, some of whom had not taken pains to remove theirboots. M. Guyot told us we might sleep where we chose and showed uswhere the fresh linen was kept, apologizing for the fact that we wouldbe obliged to make up our own beds. 

He introduced us to three French aviators who were already quarteredin the house and who came in as we were preparing to depart forsupper. They were Captain B----, Chevalier de la Legion, Lieutenantthe Vicomte de B----, and their orderly. The officers immediately tookpossession of the lantern and conducted us out into the gardens tobehold the piles of broken bottles which the Germans had strewnabout. They informed us that these were some of the remains of fifteenthousand bottles of champagne which had been taken by the invadersfrom the warehouse cellars of our host alone. M. Guyot had notvolunteered this information, but now confirmed that fact and addedwith simplicity that his champagne business and the prosperity of hishouse would be much curtailed for some time to come. 

Our host's residence was in such disorder that he suggested that thesupper table should be laid at the house of one of his employees wholived near-by in the village, and we all started together through thedarkness, taking stock of our provisions as we walked. The Frenchofficers had tea and two loaves of bread which they had obtained fromthe Commissariat; M. Guyot, in the expectation of having guests, hadmanaged to amass three pigeons, five eggs, and several tomatoes, andwe Americans excavated such endless quarts of potatoes from ourautomobile that the Frenchmen amidst roars of laughter had cried"Assez! Assez!"

Our host and his friends decided that the repast should be called adinner and should be given in honor of the new France and of theglorious victory just won, the first to rest upon the French arms inmore than sixty years. What more fitting, they asked, than that weneutrals should witness this celebration? The Vicomte de B---- busiedhimself with reciting the menu: entrée, omelette parmentier; game, pigeon rôti; plat de résistance--pommes de terre Marseillaise; Salade, tomate--not to speak of toast and tea. M. Guyot hinted darkly andmysteriously that he would attend to the wine list; we should havelaughed at this had we not realized that a wine merchant who has losthis entire store of wine is not a fit subject for jest. 

When we took our places at dinner, our host sat at one end of thetable and Colonel Allen at the other. The former then explained that alittle cellar where he kept his most precious wines had beenundiscovered by the invaders and that the wine list would include theprecious champagne of '93 and a very old Bordeaux. His aged employee, who had served the meal, then entered amid loud acclamations, her armsfull of bottles, and we drank to "La France" in Bordeaux of the colorof a ruby. 

The table was set with wooden-handled knives and forks, as no othersremained, and was lighted by candles set in bottles and brokencandlesticks; no gas, electricity, or kerosene having survived theinvasion. The French aviators had in their possession five spikedhelmets which they had taken as trophies from the heads of deadGermans. It was suggested that since all ordinary means of lightinghad been destroyed by these same Germans, their casques mightfittingly be used as candlesticks, and each bear a taper upon itspoint. This suggestion was about to be put into effect when M. Guyot, whose business had been so recently ruined and whose house had beenruthlessly pillaged by these invaders, quietly made objection and saidthat it was not fitting or proper that the headgear of fallen soldiersshould be used as candelabra. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, September 14th. _ One's respect and affection for horses isgreatly increased after seeing them in war. They are there soessentially necessary. They share so patiently and faithfully onalmost equal terms the good and ill fortune of the men; they work withtheir masters, go into battle with them, and the two die side byside, killed by the same shell. It is a stirring example of unity tosee men and horses straining and striving and pulling together to geta gun out of difficulties. The horses do not understand what it is allabout and going to war was not of their choice, but the same thingsmay usually be said of the men beside whom they live and die. 

The feeling which the French soldiers on the firing-line have for theGermans is very different from the bitterness one finds in thecivilian population of France. We have heard more than one Frenchsoldier say in a voice tinged with admiration, "Ah, ce sont de bonssoldats!" At the front and in the trenches one gets down to basicprinciples and realizes that "the other man" is a fellow human beingand not something with horns and a forked tail. The French soldier isgrimly determined to go through the war to the bitter end and toaccept nothing short of a complete victory, but at the same time herealizes that this mutual slaughter is indeed a sorry business. Ishall never forget the face of a serious French Territorial soldier offorty with whom I spoke today. He was one of a burying squad on thescene of the charge of the African brigade near Soizy-aux-Bois. Ninehundred dead were being buried in one big trench and as I came toinspect it, my Territorial and a comrade were about to pick up a deadGerman who lay face down in a muddy field, with arms outstretched. Ahundred others lay close about us. I offered the Territorialcigarettes and, as he took one, he indicated the field about us with asweep of his arm and said sadly: "If Guillaume could have foreseen allthis, do you think that he, one man, would have begun this war?" Andhe looked down with an expression full of sorrow and brotherlycompassion at the dead German who lay at his feet. 

 * * * * *

In the four days of our trip we have had innumerable punctures and sixblow-outs, in consequence of which we were finally forced to return toParis today. The Germans raided all the wine cellars throughout thiswhole region and when they retreated left broken bottles along all thestreets and roads. 

CHAPTER V

ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE

_Monday, September 14th. _ The equipment of the German soldier is inevery detail a marvel of perfection. This impresses me more than anyother single element of the war excepting only the bravery of theFrench, and the imperturbable _sang froid_ of the English. A strikingexample of this perfection is the spiked helmet. Contrary toappearance, it is not heavy, weighing indeed scarcely more than aderby hat. Everyone who picks one up for the first time exclaims inastonishment, "How light it is!" These helmets are made of lacqueredleather, are nearly indestructible, shed water perfectly, and giveexcellent ventilation to the head by means of a clever arrangement ofholes under the flange of the spike. They also shield the eyes and theback of the head from the sun, and are strong enough to break a heavyblow. 

The German uniforms are of a light gray with a slight green tinge, and are virtually invisible against the greenish mist-gray fields ofEurope, excepting only when the sun is behind to project a deepshadow. 

The German bayonet is a formidable weapon with a heavy double-edgedblade twenty inches long. Both edges are extremely sharp. I easilysharpened pencils with one which I picked up. 

The German knapsacks are made of cowhide with the hair left on, thegrain of the hair pointing downward to shed rain. The hair may getwet, but the leather seldom and the contents never. 

The German military boot comes half-way up the calf of the leg and thetrouser is tucked into its top. They are without laces and pull on tothe foot like the American "rubber boot. " They are made of heavy, undyed leather, singularly soft and pliable, and thoroughlywaterproof. The soles are shod with hobnails, but the boot is not veryheavy. We often noted dead Germans who were bootless, their footgearhaving been appropriated by some victorious Frenchman, who had leftnear-by his own less desirable shoes. 

The three-compartment wicker shell-containers in which field-gunshells are carried from caisson to gun are as carefully and neatlymade as an expensive tea-basket. We saw thousands of them lying aboutthe battlefields and carefully examined scores, sliding shells in andout of them as a test. Invariably we found that the shells went in andout smoothly and without effort, and yet always fitted snugly. Therewas never either the slightest friction or the least loose-play. Thisnicety meant that the variation in an interior diameter of threeinches was certainly less than one thirty-second of an inch. Wicker-work constructed with such unvarying accuracy is trulymarvelous. 

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_Paris, Tuesday, September 15th. _ Back in Paris, we are trying topiece bits of evidence together into a clear picture and to draw soundconclusions from what we have seen. We do not yet know what the battlewhich we have studied will be named, but we ourselves call it theBattle of Fère Champenoise. This is, however, an unsatisfactory title, as it is too cumbersome and not comprehensive enough, for FèreChampenoise was only the most intense and critical point in a seriesof actions extending from Chantilly to Verdun, over a varied andwinding front of about one hundred and ninety miles. We have nomeans of knowing how far the Germans have been driven back, but theyare across the Aisne and other Attachés tell us that frightfulfighting is going on at Soissons where the pursuing Allies areattempting to throw large forces across the river. On our way homeyesterday, moreover, we ourselves heard much shooting in the directionof Rheims. 

[Illustration: "THE WOODS WERE ... DOTTED WITH THE BODIES OF THEDEAD"]

My personal conclusions about the battle are based upon a thousandbits of information carefully pieced together into a mosaic. First ofall we ourselves examined the territory included between the Marne, the Seine, and a line from Méry-sur-Seine through Arcis toVitry-le-François, and made certain digressions across the Marne tothe northeast of Paris. We examined the battlefields while they werecomparatively fresh, and supplemented our observations by innumerableconversations with the French troops and civilians, and with Germanprisoners. At the Embassy we obtained from other Attachés many bits ofreliable information about the fighting directly north of Paris andabout the rearguard actions between the Marne and the Aisne. 

Up to the time of this battle the German plan of campaign had workedout almost perfectly. The Franco-German border is due east of Paris, and the French mobilization took place there behind the fortresses ofVerdun, Toul, Epinal, and Belfort. 

The Belgian frontier is north of Paris and the unexpected andtreacherous advance of the German armies through that neutral countrybrought them immediately behind the French line of mobilization. Theviolation of Belgium permitted the Germans to advance into Francebefore the Allies could reorganize into an effective resistanceagainst this unexpected attack. It is to be remembered that amobilization which it has taken years to plan out and which involvesmillions of men and their equipment cannot be changed at a moment'snotice. Had the Germans attacked across the Franco-German border, theywould have found the French army awaiting them behind the fortressesof Verdun, Toul, and Epinal, and it is almost certain that they wouldnever have arrived within two hundred marching miles of Paris. No oneknew this better than the German General Staff. 

Had it not been for the unexpected and heroic resistance of Belgium, and the masterly retreat of the small British army, Germany's foulblow might have resulted in the capture of Paris toward the end ofAugust. These two things, combined with a desperate retarding actionexecuted along the Aisne by several French corps, delayed the Germanslong enough to enable General Joffre to organize and fight a singlebattle upon which everything was staked. To lose it would have meantutter ruin, for France has faced no such crisis since Charles Martelrepelled the Saracens at Tours in 732. To win would mean thatthe Teutons' blow-below-the-belt had been survived and that arecommencement of the war upon something like even terms would bepossible. 

In preparing for the battle the French placed powerful forces in thegreat fortress of Verdun, and also in and around the entrenched campof Paris. Their field army extended between the two from Paris throughLa Ferté, Esternay, Sézanne, and Sommesous to Vitry-le-François, andfrom thence bent northeastward to Verdun. Thus their two flanks werestrong and menacing and their center, about one hundred and eightymiles in length, bent southward and was slightly concave. 

It is evident that in this battle the Germans could gain nothing bymaking their main attack against Paris or Verdun, but that if theycould rout the field army between the two, they might as an aftermathsweep round behind each city and attack it from all sides, using forthe purpose the heavy artillery which had under similar circumstancesand with such celerity battered down Liège, Namur, Longwy, andMaubeuge. Therefore, the logical thing was for the Germans to attemptto break the French center. This operation was somewhat hazardous asthere was danger that the French might launch a powerful flank attackfrom either Verdun or Paris. To attack the center was, in effect, something like thrusting a dagger into a lion's mouth in the effort tocut his throat. It was necessary to hold back the jaws Verdun andParis, whilst attacking the vulnerable throat at Fère Champenoise. 

To accomplish this, Verdun was kept so busy by violent attacks madeupon three sides that its army had no time to think of any offensivemovement. The German defense against the French right thus in realitytook the form of an active attack, a feasible method because Verdun isnear the Franco-German frontier, being in fact less than forty milesfrom the German fortress and mobilization center of Metz. 

To protect their right from any flank attacks which might be hurledagainst it from Paris, the Germans placed a strong army under vonKluck in front of that city to hold the French left in check, as aboxer in a clinch holds back his opponent's left arm. Von Kluck foughthis way to a position approximately defined by a line through Creil, Senlis, Nanteuil-le-Haudouin, and Lizy-sur-Ourg. His cavalry advancedeven to Chantilly and Crécy. His army was not intended to have anypart in the main German offensive, its sole duty being to protect theGerman right from any attack in flank which might be prepared andlaunched from the entrenched camp of Paris. Von Kluck was not toattack Paris, but to protect the Germans from Paris, and this hesuccessfully did. 

No greater mistake can be made than to suppose that the German retreatto Soissons and Rheims was precipitated by any victory over von Kluck. A violent and heavy attack was, it is true, launched against him on orabout the evening of September 6th and was steadily maintained fromthat time forward. At first he was pushed back for a number of milesby the violence of this assault, but his counter attacks soon regainedmost of the ground lost. Thus he advanced on the 5th, was pushed backa little on the 7th, but advanced again on the 8th, driving the Alliesbefore him. On the 9th his left flank was threatened by the Britishand he again retreated a little to consolidate his position. While sodoing he received news that the German army assigned to carry out themain offensive in the neighborhood of Fère Champenoise had beenrepulsed and was already beginning the retreat which later at manypoints turned into a rout, and he then continued his own retreat untilhe reached the Aisne. 

Von Kluck advanced or retreated short distances as the fortunes of thebattle varied, but on the whole successfully maintained his ground andonly retreated for good when the Germans' principal attack had thusbeen defeated at another and distant point. After the 6th he was atall times heavily engaged and his losses and those of his opponentswere excessively heavy. 

Since the battle of the Marne there has been an almost universaltendency to declare that von Kluck was defeated and that Paris wasthereby saved. This verdict, though erroneous, is easily explained. Von Kluck was nearest Paris, "everyone" was in Paris, and in an actionextending over hundreds of miles "everyone" saw only what was nearestto him and drew his conclusions from that alone. The losses in vonKluck's army and in the armies opposed to it were so heavy that it issmall wonder people concluded that they waged the main battle. Intruth, these losses were probably heavier than those of any previousbattle since ancient times. I wish to emphasize again that von Kluckdid not attack Paris and had no intention of so doing, but that Parisattacked him and that he held this attack in check until it was nolonger necessary to do so, since the German strategy had failed atother points. 

 * * * * *

Let us now consider the main German offensive and its repulse. TheFrench center had taken a position on a plateau of rolling hills inmany places covered with pine forests, while several large swamps layin front of them. This country was for several weeks defended byNapoleon in his despairing campaign of 1814. He had appreciated itsstrategic value and somewhat developed its defensive possibilities. Inrecent years the French had often held manoeuvres in this area andhad a permanent manoeuvre camp at Mailly, which was actually withinthe battlefield of Fère Champenoise. 

The German troops which were to make the great offensive movementagainst the French center crossed the Marne in the section fromEpernay to Chalons without serious opposition. Their main attack waslaunched against the Ninth Army of the French under General Foch alonga front of about fifteen miles, and probably close to a quarter of amillion Teutons were engaged. We saw dead Germans belonging to the10th, 12th, 19th, 10th Reserve, and a Guard Corps. 

The first contact took place at Fère Champenoise at three o'clock onthe morning of the 8th, when heavy forces advancing through the nightalong the roads from Vertus and Chalons fell upon the French who wereencamped in the town and drove them out. The Germans continuedvictorious throughout the day of the 8th, driving the stubbornlyresisting French back from the line through Sommesous, FèreChampenoise, and Sézanne until, when the battle lulled late at nightafter eighteen hours of combat, the French held a line through thevillages of Mailly, Gourgançon, Corroy, and Linthelles. 

The fighting was very fierce, and terrible losses were sustained byboth sides as the possession of every foot of territory was hotlycontested. The French showed steadiness, determination, and efficiencyunder the most trying conditions and under the most violent andoverwhelming attacks. We saw few signs or indications of any disorderor weakness on their part. The Germans experienced particularly heavylosses in driving the French from positions near the villages of Oeuvyand Montépreux, while the French suffered most heavily in theneighborhoods of Gourgançon and Corroy. Very little entrenching wasdone by either side, as both armies were constantly shifting, and thefew trenches which were constructed had evidently been hurriedly builtat night. 

On the 9th the Germans began the day with further successes andapparently had forced a marked French retreat. At noon they consideredthe battle as good as won. They had, however, apparently had no timeto entrench or to consolidate their forces, when, early in theafternoon, General Foch suddenly ordered an attack by all his forces. For six weeks the French had labored through a losing campaign and hadjust fought through thirty-six hours of steady defeat, and yet theyturned about on the instant and attacked the astonished Germans with adash which could not have been surpassed by the troops of the FirstEmpire at the height of a victory. They would not be denied, butattacked and attacked until the Germans were overwhelmed. We sawfields where charging battalions had apparently been put out of actionup to the last man without deterring that last man from advancing. By evening the French had retaken all the ground which they had lostin the previous thirty-six hours, and on the morning of the 10ththeir offensive was resumed with unabated fury and unfalteringself-sacrifice. No number of casualties could stop them and in placesthe retreat of the Germans became a rout. They left their wounded uponthe battlefields and abandoned their hospitals, caissons, andsupplies. Especially furious rearguard actions were fought in theneighborhood of Pierre-Morains and Coizard and at Mondemont. 

On the night of the 10th the German army pulled itself together, andon the 11th, under the protection of magnificently executed rearguardactions which held up the determined pursuit of the French, retreatedin good order to the Marne and across it. On the 12th they reached theAisne and have since been endeavoring to make a stand on the fartherside of Rheims. 

The most conservative French officers with whom we talked estimatedthat the total casualties of both sides in the fighting near FèreChampenoise amounted to at least one hundred and fifty thousand. Somethought it was as high as two hundred thousand, and I am inclined tothis latter figure. Perhaps we saw the field in its entirety morethoroughly than did they. Certainly they were busy with many otheraffairs, whereas we had nothing other to do than study and estimate. 

Had the German attack succeeded in breaking the French center, theFrench army would have been cut in two and both remnants would havebeen compelled to retreat in order to save themselves from ruinousflank attacks. In retreating they would have been obliged to leaveVerdun and Paris each to take care of itself, and the German armiescould have swung about to surround and lay siege to either or both ofthem. 

As far as we could observe, the German attack at Fère Champenoise hadbeen unsupported by any heavy artillery. This was probably acontributing cause of their defeat, as was also their arrogantover-confidence in themselves and their under-estimation of theirenemy. The French won the battle because their field artillery wassuperior and because, man for man, they outfought the Germans. Havingstaked the fate of their families and of their beloved _patrie_ upon asingle throw, the French gained one of the most desperate battles inthe world's history by the coolness and dogged determination of theirchiefs and by the sublime tenacity and self-sacrifice of theirsoldiers. These outdid the best traditions of their race. At commandthey threw their lives away as a man throws away a trifle, and to meetnew conditions they developed new qualities with which they have notpreviously been credited, qualities of stubborn scientific stolidity. They out-Germaned the Germans in the way their organization withstoodthe shock and wrack of battle. It was the German machine which brokedown first. On that field a new France was born. Let no German everagain say that she is effete. It was purely a French victory. This isno aspersion upon the Belgians and the British; the slight part whichthey played in this battle is explained by their small numbers. AtLiège and Namur, at Mons and St. Quentin they helped win for France afighting chance behind the Marne. All hail to them for that!

During our trip we found no evidence of German acts deserving to becalled "atrocities. " The word "atrocity" has been so carelessly usedthat it will be useful to re-define what that word means in relationto war. It should be limited to instances where unnecessary violenceis used toward the enemy's soldiers and civilians. It has a meaningdistinct from the inevitable destruction and vandalism which seem tobe necessary integral parts of all wars. The burning and destroying ofbuildings by shell-fire or for reasons of military expediency and theconfiscation of food supplies for military purposes are allowed by allrules of war. The use of the word "atrocity" should be limited to suchacts as the killing of prisoners, the mutilation of civilians, andthe violation of women. Of such deeds we personally found no instance, although we carefully cross-questioned the inhabitants of many townswhich had been occupied by Germans. 

Food and wine had been pretty generally confiscated, a thing to beexpected; also we found several instances of pillaging in whichespecially desirable articles had been carried off. Wanton breakagewas rare and not extensive, and in most cases appeared to have beenmore mischievous than malicious. It was probably due to a somewhat tooliberal use of pillaged wine. In general, the worst charges againstthe Germans in France were that they had been exceedingly rude andboorish. There were, however, some instances which came to my noticewhere German officers had shown consideration for the civilians, hadpolitely apologized for their unwelcome but "necessary" intrusion intoFrench families, and had carefully paid for their board and lodging. We talked with several French surgeons who were captured early in thewar and had since, according to The Hague rules, been returned toFrance. These all acknowledged the consideration and good care whichtheir captured wounded had received from the Germans. 

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When the Germans were retreating northward towards Rheims after theirdefeat in the Battle of the Marne, notices (about twenty by thirtyinches) printed on green paper were posted in the streets of the city, of which the following is a literal translation:

 "PROCLAMATION. 

 "In case a combat should take place today or in the immediate future in the environs of Rheims or within the city itself, the inhabitants are forewarned that they must remain absolutely inactive and must not attempt in any way to take part in the battle. They must not attempt to attack either isolated German soldiers or detachments of the German army. It is hereby officially forbidden to construct barricades, or to tear up the streets in such a manner as to hamper the movements of our troops. In a word, it is forbidden to undertake any act whatsoever which might be in any manner a hindrance to the German army. 

 "In order thoroughly to insure the security of the German troops and to act as sureties for the inactivity of the population of Rheims, the personages named below have been seized as hostages by the General commanding the German army. At the least sign of disorder these hostages will be hanged. Also the city will be entirely or partly burned and its inhabitants hanged if any infractions whatsoever of the above orders are committed. 

 "On the other hand, if the city remains absolutely quiet, the hostages and inhabitants will be protected by the German army. 

 "By order of the German Authorities, "The Mayor, DR. LAUGHT. 

 "Rheims, September 12, 1914. "

Below was appended a list of names and addresses of ninety-one leadingcitizens, officials, and ecclesiastics, and, as if that were notenough, this list was finished by the words "and others. "

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_Paris, Thursday, September 17th. _ During my absence at the Battle ofthe Marne last week, the powers-that-be at the Embassy decided that Iwas too much needed in Paris for the German-Austrian affairs to beallowed to go to the front again. 

[Illustration: THE CHÂTEAU OF MONDEMONT]

Therefore, when another expedition departed today, I was not permittedto be one of the party. 

On our trip I took rough field notes during the daytime and sat up atnight into the early morning hours in order to expand these jottingsinto an accurate and comprehensive diary. I am now arranging thismaterial into a report to be forwarded to Washington. 

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The whole "deuxième étage" of the _Chancellerie_ is now given over tothe Austrian, German, and Hungarian affairs. The arrangement of roomsis the same as in the American _Chancellerie_ on the floor below. Mr. Percival Dodge, ex-first-assistant Secretary of State, is now head ofthe department and occupies the room over Ambassador Herrick. I havethe room over the First Secretary, and Mr. Hazeltine the room over theSecond Secretary. Lieutenant Donait is to be chief of the officestaff, which consists of three stenographers and two messengers. Wehave, in addition, three personal stenographers. This arrangement willbe a great improvement, as our rooms on the ground floor were much toocramped for the volume of business. 

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_Monday, September 21st. _ The immense amount of effective workaccomplished under Mr. Herrick would have been impossible had he notbeen so ably supported by the two Secretaries of the Embassy, Mr. Bliss and Mr. Frazier, past-masters of the intricate technique oftheir profession. In the emergency of the war crisis the usefulness ofthe numerous subordinate members of the Embassy staff absolutelydepended upon the skill and patience with which these two Secretariestrained them for the work of the various departments to which theywere assigned, and prevented any divergence from correct diplomaticmethods. It is most fortunate that our foolish American habit ofreplacing Ambassadors whenever some one else has a stronger political"pull" does not extend to our first and second secretaries. 

Five of the younger men of the Embassy have formed a little luncheonclub for the purpose of exchanging news and discussing and studyingthe military situation. They are Lieut. Boyd of the Cavalry, Lieut. Hunnicutt of the Artillery, Harry Dodge, the Ambassador's privateSecretary, Lieut. Donait of the Infantry and Ordnance Departments, andmyself. We meet each noon at a little pension near the Embassy andthere we argue and debate for an hour or more. These daily conferencesgive us a much better comprehension of the war as a whole and a moreexact knowledge of its important details. We have all been more orless at the front and usually some one of us has just returned withfirst-hand data as to what is going on at the moment. Whenever anyoutsider is discovered who has recent war news of value, we invite himto luncheon and proceed to cross-question him in general and inparticular. 

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_Wednesday, September 23d. _ A little sadly I took supper this eveningat the Café du Commerce where the members of the atelier used to meetin the days of student life. As I was eating, who should walk in andsit down beside me but my friend Daumal, _sous-massier_ of the atelierwhen war broke out, whom I had not seen since he departed for thefront as a private. 

He is now Sergeant Daumal of the First Line Regiment, wounded atLongwy and just out of the hospital, homeward bound on a two weeks'convalescent leave. As he described it, "une de ces marmites à28-centimètres" had exploded a little distance from him. Although hehad not been struck by any fragments, the shock had rendered him sothoroughly unconscious that for a day he had been passed over by theambulance orderlies as dead and had finally been discovered by aburying squad to be not in need of a grave but of a hospital. 

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The bombardment of Rheims Cathedral has stirred France to indignation, but apparently not nearly as much as it has stirred the outside world. The capacity of the French for being "stirred to indignation" has lostsome of its elasticity by this time. It is an action so vivid, soneat, so concise, that it turns the sympathies of neutrals more than athousand "routine" accounts of burnings and killings. _They bombardedRheims Cathedral!_ These four words need no elaboration. I myself findit difficult to keep that neutral equilibrium which is necessary in anAttaché who wishes to observe as much and as correctly as possible. Whitney Warren, the architect, and several Attachés are to be sent toRheims in a day or two to make an investigation. 

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_Sunday, September 27th. _ I examine indigent Germans, Austrians, andHungarians every morning, and during the afternoon take special casesto the police, and write up accounts. 

Today Paris had another visit from a German aëroplane which threw theusual three bombs. One of them fell in the Avenue du Trocadéro nearthe Embassy. It just missed demolishing the Ambassador and Mr. Frazierwho were in an automobile on their way to inspect the buildings andgrounds of the German Embassy. They had driven over the spot only twominutes before the bomb struck. I was at the same time on my way tothe Embassy, having met them near the Pont d'Alma. I passed along theavenue a minute later and had just turned the corner when the bombfell, killing an old man and tearing a leg off a little girl. The daywas very cloudy and the aviator was above the clouds; for this reasonno one seems to have discovered him and he must have thrown his bombat random. 

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_Monday, September 28th. _ At lunch today in the Café Royal I overhearda Frenchman remark that although he and all his compatriots greatlyesteemed Mr. Herrick, it would nevertheless have been an excellentservice against the enemy had he tactfully allowed himself to beannihilated by the German bomb which missed him yesterday. Later inthe afternoon I took tea with Mr. Herrick at the _Chancellerie_, andhe was much amused when I recounted to him this example of a somewhatequivocal good-will. 

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_Tuesday, September 29th. _ The damage to Rheims Cathedral was largelythe result of fire. The Germans had, during the time they held thecity, converted it into a hospital; they had stacked the chairsagainst the walls and covered the floor deep with straw upon which tolay their wounded. During the spring and summer the front façade hadbeen undergoing repairs and was covered with heavy wooden scaffoldingsimilar to that which has for several years disfigured St. Sulpice inParis. The Cathedral was very famous for its choir-stalls and otherwood-carving, of which there was a great quantity, and the roof whichcovered the vaulting was held up by a forest of great timbers manycenturies old. 

After the Germans had been driven out of the city they bombarded itfrom the hills outside, and their shells lit the straw on theCathedral floor. Over it the fire ran swiftly, ignited the chairspiled against the walls, and then spread to the great masses of carvedwoodwork; finally the scaffolding and roof caught fire and the famousold Cathedral burned in one great conflagration. It has beenparticularly famous for three things: its woodwork, its front façade, and its stained-glass windows. The woodwork went up in smoke, thefront façade was all scorched and disintegrated by the intense heat sothat the surface of the stone detail is blowing off in fine dust, while the glass to the last particle was shattered by the concussionsof bursting shells. The Cathedral stands like a great skeleton of itsformer self. Its flesh, as it were, is gone although few of its bonesare broken. 

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_Saturday, October 3d. _ This is the first war in modern times in whichwhole nations have gone to battle; in this conflict every man in anation is a soldier. In Napoleon's day France had about the samepopulation--forty millions--that she now has, but Napoleon'sprofessional armies numbered, at most, only two hundred thousand men, while today France has put fifteen or twenty times as many in thefield. In the present war, when an army sustains a 10 per cent. Lossit is not merely 10 per cent. Of the army, but actually of theable-bodied men of the nation. 

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_Wednesday, October 7th. _ A German aëroplane again threw bombs onParis today. 

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_Thursday, October 8th. _ Another Taube came today and threw bombs inthe neighborhood of the Gare du Nord. These machines in flight lookvery much like sparrow-hawks and have a singularly sinisterappearance. 

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_Sunday, October 11th. _ We had a record-breaking flock of Taubes todaywhen a number came together and dropped about twenty bombs. Theircombined score was twenty-two people killed and wounded; as usual, allwomen, children, and old men. 

CHAPTER VI

THE BATTLE OF THE AISNE

_Paris, Monday, October 12th. _ In writing about the German, Austrian, and Hungarian subjects of whom we have had charge, I have spoken ofthem _en masse_. In reality there have been many cases in whom I havebeen personally interested and to whose safety I have given much time. Their history alone would fill a book. One of these is the case of theCountess X. , member of an old and powerful Hungarian family. 

The Count, her husband, was desperately ill in Paris when the warbroke out and he was kept alive only through the devoted care of hiswife. We arranged with the French authorities that the Countess mightremain in Paris with her husband, although all other Hungarian peoplewere, without exception, being shipped off to detention camps. Laterthe Countess twice received notice from the Prefecture that she was tobe immediately imprisoned, and each time by enlisting the personalassistance of Ambassador Herrick I managed to have the decree delayed. 

The children of the family, of whom there were seven under ten yearsof age, were living at a château on the French coast, at Paris-Plage, near Boulogne. When the German army began to sweep towards the coastin a seemingly irresistible flood, the Countess came to me to say howfearful she felt for the safety of her children, left in the care ofservants and governesses. Yesterday, when the fall of Antwerp wasconfirmed and when even the official announcements went so far as totalk of fighting in the neighborhood of Arras, she came again. I wentto Mr. Herrick and asked if I might be allowed to go to the coast andbring the children back to Paris. The permission was the more readilygranted because there were several other errands to be done in thesame direction, notably to carry communications to our Consular Agentin Amiens, who had remained in that city during the German occupationand from whom little had since been heard. 

The necessary permits have been obtained and these will incidentallyallow me to see something of the front on my way north. I expect toleave this evening. 

Two machines will be needed to bring back the children and theirattendants. There are several young Americans who have given theirservices and the use of their private automobiles for Embassy service. On all previous expeditions I have been conducted by Melvin Hall. Heis at present assigned to other business, but I have secured theservices of another volunteer chauffeur, Francis Colby. I shall travelin his touring-car and bring back in it the older children and theirEnglish governess. The second machine, a large limousine, will bedriven by the French chauffeur of Countess X. , and into it I shallpack the smaller children and their two nurses. 

 * * * * *

The condition of the front along which we must pass for eighty milesis as follows: the battle of the Aisne has now turned into a race forthe coast; each army is trying to outflank the other, the Germans, according to present indications, getting much the better of thecontest. Everyone's attention seems to be concentrated for the momenton Calais, and the Allies evidently feel that the chief danger pointis there. I notice with special concern, however, that farther souththe German army is at Bethune thrusting out a wedge toward Abbeville, on the coast, only thirty-eight miles away. If they can advance thesethirty-eight miles they will win not only all the triangle containingNieuport, Calais, and Boulogne, but will cut off such of the Alliedarmies as are now concentrated in this area, and also radicallyshorten their own lines. Their front, as it now extends from Compiègneto Holland, measures nearly two hundred miles. If reorganized fromCompiègne to the coast at Abbeville, it would be less than sixty-fivemiles. Of course the Allies fully appreciate this danger and areguarding against it as best they can, but I agree with Countess X. That the sooner we snatch her children out of the threatened area thebetter. 

 * * * * *

_At the Front, Tuesday, October 13th. _ We left Paris lastevening at half-past six and at first made only slow progress owingto heavy traffic, worn-out roads, and destroyed bridges. We stoppedfor supper in poor, wrecked Senlis. This town is no farther fromthe gates of Paris than Van Cortlandt Park in New York is from theBattery, and yet the German armies were in Senlis in September, battles raged in its streets, shells burst in its houses anddestroyed whole blocks. Indeed, one of the fiercest fights of the wartook place at night in its streets when, during the attack made by thegarrison of Paris upon von Kluck's army, troops were hurriedly rushedout of Paris in trams, wagons, and taxicabs to fall pell-mell upon theGermans who occupied Senlis. French colonial infantry played a largepart in this conflict. A weird and awful sight it must have been:taxicabs and automobiles from Paris charging up the streets vomitingbullets in all directions, houses catching fire from the burstingshells, and by the light of their flames the men of both armiesfighting hand to hand, chasing one another through the doors andwindows of burning and collapsing houses, or making desperate standsbehind dead horses, street-barricades, or wrecked taxicabs. It issaid that in every such mêlée Turcos were to be seen exulting intheir favorite sport, close-range fighting. 

 * * * * *

After supper we passed through Fleurines, Pont Ste. Maxence, andBlincourt to Estrées-St. Denis, where we spent the night. Along thisroad had recently passed a great German army, and their engineers hadconstructed new roads to the right and left of the original one, sothat their regiments had been able to march steadily three abreast, probably no small factor in their successful retreat. 

 * * * * *

This morning we got under way at half-past six. The day was hazy, threatening rain; mists rising from the ground made it impossible tosee clearly for any great distance. The heavy atmosphere muffled thesound of guns so that it was difficult to judge their location evenwhen we were fairly close upon them. The day was, however, a mostadvantageous one on which to move about near the front, provided onewere careful to ascertain where, off in the mist, the enemy'sbatteries lay. 

We first reached the front at Roye-sur-Matz, which we found wasoccupied by a French colonial brigade. This place is about three milesfrom Lassigny, which is far within the German lines, and from whichthey have recently organized heavy attacks against the French forces. In Roye-sur-Matz the German shells were bursting, punctuated by themuffled slump of falling walls. The place had been deserted by itsinhabitants, but Turcos and black Senegalese wandered about the ruinedstreets indifferent to the shell fire. For a week past there has beenheavy fighting in the vicinity of Roye and Lassigny, probably theheaviest that has taken place in the Battle of the Aisne since thelatter part of September. We drove slowly down the main street of thevillage looking for an officer who could tell us about the localgeography. We finally met the acting brigadier, a French colonel, whoinformed us that it was not safe for us to continue more than a blockfarther in the direction in which we were going, as the far end of thevillage was "between the lines" and we would there come under theobservation of the German sharpshooters. This officer said that thebest way to follow the battle-line would be to turn back through thevillage and take the first road to the right. 

We stayed in the village for half an hour longer, and then, faithfullyfollowing directions, went back and took the "first turn to theright, " which proved to be a narrow road whose existence the officerhad forgotten and which was not at all the one he meant to recommend. We, ignorant of any mistake, went blindly on, down a little hill, across a small brook, and up a knoll opposite. In doing so we hadactually passed out through the French lines and reached an elevationsquarely between the two armies. The French positions were, as usual, concealed, and for the moment they were not firing, so that weremained blissfully unconscious of our dangerous position. Fortunatelyfor us, the German lines were at this point half a mile away from theFrench, and owing to the mist and distance we were apparentlyunobserved, since we received no especial attention. As we reached thetop of the knoll it began to rain, making us still less conspicuousand forcing us to stop and put up the top. We pulled up behind anisolated barn in order to be somewhat sheltered from stray shrapnel. 

As we stood behind the barn, the bombarded village which we had justleft lay below and behind us, and in front featureless fields slopedaway toward some low wooded hills half a mile distant. Suddenly theconstant rumbling of guns was interrupted by four quick, sharpexplosions, and we perceived little wisps of smoke bluer than themist trailing up through the tree tops of these hills. Theseexplosions were French shells bursting over the German trenches, butwe, naturally supposing ourselves to be within the French lines, atthe moment thought it was a French battery firing a salvo. 

While we were putting up the top, two French soldiers on picket dutycame by and, lured by the unfailing bait of cigarettes, stopped totalk to us. Taking it for granted that we knew where we were, they didnot mention our being between the lines, but told us of a great fightwhich had last Sunday taken place about two miles to the right ofwhere we stood. They said that the German and French trenches therefaced one another across a low field and were so near together that atnight the French could hear the Germans singing. Some peculiarity inthe contour of the land had led the enemy to think that here was apromising point to break through the French lines; consequently aseries of violent attacks had been launched from Lassigny against thisposition. These attacks had repeatedly been repulsed with heavy lossesand thousands of dead Germans lay in the field between the two setsof trenches. 

I decided to ask permission to go over this recently contested area, and therefore turned back to Brigade headquarters in the village ofRoye-sur-Matz, which we had just left. There, in a second talk withthe officer who had previously directed us, I learned for the firsttime that we had taken the wrong road and been for a considerable timebetween the French and German armies, and only a few hundred yardsfrom the German trenches. That we had there seen no signs of armies, guns, or entrenchments, indicates the curious characteristics ofmodern warfare, and the invisibility of all combatants even whenactively engaged. The permission which I had desired to obtain toinspect the ground of the recent battle was refused as being toodangerous. 

 * * * * *

We later passed through the village of Guerbigny. Here, as at alltimes during our trip, the guns could be heard booming in thedistance. At the farther end of the place a family of peasants, led bythe grandfather, were packing their humble worldly goods into a bigcart to which was hitched an exceedingly old white horse. They werevery sad and explained simply, "C'est dur de partir. " They pointedacross a field to a little church tower about a mile away, only dimlyvisible through the haze, which still hung low over the landscape, saying pathetically: "On bombarde ce hameau; c'est là les avant-postesdes Français. " Our maps showed that the church tower was in thevillage of Erches. A straight road ran down to it from where we stood. The mist seemed to favor the possibility of our reaching this villagewithout being too quickly observed by the Germans. We thereforepromptly put on all speed and in a few seconds drew up under the leeof a battered house, which was on the advance line of the French army, and were in the midst of the battle. A French officer, who appearedout of the house, informed us that we were then actually within twohundred yards of the German trenches, so near, he said, that his men"knew the Germans in the opposing trenches by their first names. "

Seeing a modern battle demolishes all one's preconceived ideas derivedfrom descriptions of previous wars. One at least expects some sort ofrapid and exciting action. In reality, as we stood in the very midstof the Battle of the Aisne, there was, in our immediate neighborhood, only a dead silence. At intervals an angry rumbling would break outsomewhere in the distance, but in the trenches close to our elbowsthere was no sound or movement. No birds, no beasts, no men wereanywhere to be seen. This uncanny silence would continue for twenty orthirty interminable seconds and then a shrapnel would burst close by, with a sharp, ugly, threatening bang which had no echo; then alllapsed into silence again. Each shrapnel only made the subsequentsilence more intense, just as a man's footsteps crunching through thesnow-crust of a winter wilderness seem like a brutal intrusion on theabsolute stillness. 

We looked behind us and could see no signs of French troops; we peepedaround the house corner and could perceive no indications of theenemy. It was a monotonous landscape which faded away through the mistto nothingness, and its only noticeable features were a few shellcraters and two French soldiers sitting close by in the end of atrench. These men remained motionless so long before one of them movedthat we began to think they were dead. Their comrades were all hiddenin a bomb-proof trench which from any angle was invisible at adistance of a few yards. Several more officers came out of the houseand chatted with us, or unconcernedly read newspapers which wedistributed and made not the slightest break in their conversationwhen a shrapnel burst directly over our heads with ear-splittingnearness. 

The shrapnel arrived without any forewarning scream. This is a signthat the guns are less than two thousand yards away. For the first oneor two thousand yards of its flight a 3-inch shell travels faster thansound, but after that distance it so rapidly loses velocity that thesound of its screech travels faster than the shell and arrives aheadof it. 

 * * * * *

We visited the field headquarters of a General, commanding a divisionof twenty thousand men, whom we had the pleasure of meeting. Under agreat haystack which stood alone in the center of an open field hadbeen excavated several rooms used as the General's Headquarters. Someyards away from the haystack a stove-pipe projected out of the sod ina foolish unrelated manner; under it was the kitchen in which wascooking the evening meal for the staff officers. A clump of treesclose by might be called the General's ante-room, for here hiddenamong the branches were several officers receiving and sendingmessengers and dispatches. Several telephone wires ran to the haystackand one of them connected the trees with the General's undergroundoffice. In a neighboring wood a troop of cavalry were encamped andnumerous automobiles and motor-cycles were parked, all hidden fromdistant outlooks or from aëroplanes overhead. 

 * * * * *

The area immediately in the rear of the battle-lines is mostinteresting, for it is here that one really learns how a battle isfought. One sees the reserves of men and munitions all hiddencarefully from the view of aëroplanes. Occasionally one catches aglimpse of the guns, which are usually a mile or so behind theinfantry and are hidden and protected in the woods and valleys. Theartillery seldom sees its enemy or even its own front battle-line, butfires across woods, hills, and valleys and over the heads of its owninfantry at the enemy beyond. The guns are aimed from mathematicalcalculations and the results are checked and corrected byobservations telephoned back from the front. 

 * * * * *

We arrived in Amiens in the middle of the afternoon and I wentimmediately to see the American Consular Agent, M. Tassancourt, forwhom I had messages. I found him in splendid shape and very glad towelcome me. I discovered later in the day that he had done exceedinglyeffective work during the German occupation of the city, and was atleast partly responsible for the fact that there had been no frictionbetween the German invaders and the population. When our officialbusiness was finished he took me for an inspection of the militaryhospitals, which occupied several hours. The city is only fifteenmiles distant from the present battle-line and contains base hospitalsfor some forty miles of battle front. 

I took special pains to learn the details of the German occupation andto search for any damage they might have done. There had been nofighting within the city and it had not been shelled by either side. The German armies had entered it unopposed and had retired from itunpursued, both as the result of decisive actions fought at distantpoints. 

On entering the city the Germans had posted notices warning theinhabitants to refrain from hostile actions and threatening them withdire consequences if they did not obey orders. A considerable numberof the leading citizens were taken as hostages for the good behaviorof the populace and an exorbitant indemnity was demanded of the city. As a result of bargaining and protest this was finally cut down untilthe conquerors contented themselves with something like one hundredand fifty thousand francs in gold, and supplies to the value of abouteight hundred thousand. All this levy was turned over within fourdays, after which the hostages were released, the populace havingbehaved in a manner satisfactory to the invaders. 

 * * * * *

The headquarters of the British Red Cross Field Ambulance train of theSection Beauvais-Lille were temporarily in Amiens. The Consulpresented me to Mr. Fabian Ware, the Commissioner in command, who verykindly invited me to dine with him and his staff. 

 * * * * *

_At the Front, Wednesday, October 14th. _ We spent last night in Amiensand after a day near the front returned again to Amiens in theafternoon. On the way from Pas to Amiens the machine was runningrapidly down the slope of a hill toward a little village in thevalley, when an old white-haired woman detached herself from a knot ofpeasants beside the road and suddenly threw herself in front of thewheels. By putting on the brakes the driver managed to stop just intime to prevent her being crushed. She then tried to crawl under thecar and was dragged screaming away by the villagers. It seems thatsome twenty years ago this woman had been left a widow with one child, a boy. With endless labor she had brought him to manhood and given himmore than an average education. When the war broke out her son wasimmediately called to the colors, while she remained caring for hertiny house, her chickens, and her cow. When the Germans came a battletook place in her village, her house was knocked down, her cow blownup by a shell, and finally her chickens disappeared down Germanthroats. The poor old woman, refusing to leave the locality in whichher life had been passed, had wandered about for days in the rain andmud, until cold, hunger, and sorrow had made her light-witted. Thenwhile roaming aimlessly over the fields she had come upon the body ofher dead son. 

 * * * * *

On this trip I have travelled along the front from Lassigny to a pointnear Arras, or about fifty-five miles of battle-line. 

 * * * * *

We left Amiens at six o'clock in the evening and passed throughAbbeville on the coast, this being the point before mentioned fromwhich the Germans were at the time only thirty-eight miles distant andwhich they might have reached in two days had they advanced as rapidlyas they did at times during August, or as rapidly as they now seem tobe doing farther north in Belgium. I continued up the coast some fortymiles through Etaples to Paris-Plage, which I reached at ten o'clock. I went immediately to the residence of the Countess X. And found to mygreat satisfaction that the French chauffeur whom I had sent on aheadto prepare the family for the trip to Paris had arrived safely withthe limousine the day previous and that the children and nurses wereall ready to leave at daybreak tomorrow. 

Before going to bed I called on the Mayor and after a long conferencearranged for proper passes to get my charges out of the town the nextmorning. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, October 15th. _ We all got started this morning at half-pastsix. I had told the chauffeur to warn the nurses to provide milk, food, and everything the children would need for the long day's run, as I planned to make Paris in one day and did not wish to stop exceptfor emergencies. I put the five youngest "kids" and the two nursesinside the limousine and took the English governess and the two olderchildren in the back seat of my own car. 

Despite my papers from the Mayor of Paris-Plage, my personal passes, and a large sign across the front of the automobile reading, "In theService of the Ambassador of the United States, " I had an excitingtime getting past the gendarmes of the town and the Prefecture ofMontreuil. The difficulty lay in the nationality of the children andof one of the nurses, all of whom were Hungarians and thereforeofficially enemies of France. As such they were not supposed to travelabout, especially not behind the French battle-line. The details of mystruggles are too numerous to relate, but finally we got throughsuccessfully and at good speed ran towards Paris. The day throughoutproved a strenuous one with many detentions caused by suspicioussentries and over cautious prefects, together with four blow-outs andone breakdown. Each self-important petty official could see no reasonwhy I should not spend several hours explaining things for his specialbenefit. It was manifestly impossible to keep the babies outover-night, and therefore I overrode objections, answered innumerablequestions, and freely used the magic name of the American Ambassador. 

The frequent tire trouble, which gave the rest of us much anxiety, filled the heart of little Count Paul, aged seven, with unalloyeddelight, for when the machine stopped to shift tires, he could get outin the road and listen to the thrilling sound of guns booming off tothe left. 

In the end, what had to be done was done. We made Paris and "Mother"at eight o'clock after a fourteen-hour run--all dead tired, but noone the worse for the trip. 

I obtained a very telling idea of the immensity of the Battle of theAisne on this rapid run, for today the atmosphere had cleared and wasin a sound-transmitting mood, so that all day long we could hear thecannon on our left booming, booming, without cessation--eighty milesof cannon, or fourteen hours of booming, a big measure. Our route laythrough Etaples, Montreuil, Abbeville, Pont Remy, Aviames, Poix, wherewe stopped for luncheon, Grandvilliers, Pontoise, and through thePorte Maillot into Paris. 

CHAPTER VII

THE AMERICAN AMBULANCE

_Paris, Thursday, October 15th. _ For the present the jottings in mydiary grow farther and farther apart, as events worth recording haveduring the past weeks occurred with less and less frequency. Thevolume of Embassy work in the department of Germans, Austrians, andHungarians has of late been steadily decreasing. Since the end ofSeptember our work has chiefly consisted of routine diplomaticcorrespondence relating to prisoners of war. Mr. Herrick's effortshave recently been successful in obtaining from the French governmentan order permitting interned civilians to return by way of Switzerlandto their homes in Germany and Austria-Hungary. This achieves the lastvital aim for which he has struggled and now that everything has beenreduced to calm and routine it is probable that he will soon return toAmerica. The volunteer Attachés, whose duty does not keep thempermanently in the diplomatic service, begin to feel that since thereis no longer pressing need of their assistance they must soon returnto their several professions and to the peaceful occupations of civillife. They have worked under the inspiring leadership of a man withwhom familiarity breeds respect, and have had the honor of knowing himas one knows those only with whom one has passed through dark days. Mr. Herrick has proved himself one of those rare men who are possessedof high ideals and far vision and who at the same time refuse to beimpractical. 

 * * * * *

Lieutenant Donait and I are hoping that we may sometime in the nearfuture have an opportunity to make a trip to Berlin with dispatches. We should greatly like to see the other side of the war. LieutenantDonait is one of the military Attachés at the Embassy with whom I havebecome particularly friendly. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, October 27th. _ I have finished my work with the Germans andAustro-Hungarians and turned over all my affairs in good order. Of themoney sent by the German and Austro-Hungarian Governments for theirindigent interned subjects, the Embassy has distributed more than aquarter of a million francs, all of which has passed through my hands. It is a relief to get the accounts balanced and into the charge of theprofessional bookkeeper whom the secretaries have at last succeeded inengaging. 

Lieutenant Donait awaits orders from Washington releasing him from hiswork at the Embassy. It has been arranged that as soon as these arrivehe and I are to go together to Germany as bearers of officialdispatches. 

For the interim I have offered my services to the Motor AmbulanceCorps of the American Hospital. The existence of this hospital and ofits ambulance trains is due to Mr. Herrick's efforts and its creationis one of his greatest diplomatic achievements. Its efficiency, size, and rapid growth have done more to promote friendly relations betweenFrance and the United States than any other single factor, exceptingonly the never-to-be-forgotten fact that the American Embassy remainedin Paris when the Germans were approaching the city. The AmbulanceCorps is under the guidance of the Ambassador and it was his energywhich pushed it through the political and economic difficultiesincidental to its inception. 

Both the hospital and its Ambulance Corps are under the immediatedirection of a committee of prominent Americans, the executivehead of which is Dr. Winchester Dubouchet, who bears the title ofSurgeon-in-chief. He is a man possessing the rare combination of tactand efficiency. He is thoroughly conversant with the technique of hisprofession and has in previous wars had large experience with fieldambulance service. His ability and skill have proved as important inthe organization and running of these institutions as were those ofMr. Herrick in their conception. 

Under the wise leadership of Dr. Dubouchet, three other men, Mr. Laurence Benét, Dr. Edmond Gros, and Mr. A. Wellesley Kipling, havebeen powerful in promoting the phenomenal growth of the AmbulanceCorps. Their titles are, respectively, Chairman of the TransportationCommittee, Chief Ambulance Surgeon, and Captain of Ambulances. Thesegentlemen have worked together unselfishly and indefatigably, and therapidity with which the manifold difficulties incidental to theconstruction and organization of automobile ambulance trains havebeen overcome is due to their untiring efforts. 

 * * * * *

The corps is now being greatly enlarged and I, as a staff officer, amto assist in its reorganization. Some twenty-five automobileambulances are already in service and this number is soon to beincreased to sixty or more cars. 

 * * * * *

There is in general such a lack of adequate service for the woundedthat to work with the Ambulance Corps and thus contribute one's miteof helpfulness is almost a duty for any American who can spare even afew weeks of time. When one has seen thousands of wounded, as I sawthem at the Battle of the Marne, lying for three and four days in therain without food, drink, or any medical aid, one is irresistiblydriven to do something to diminish such terrible suffering. Many youngAmericans are feeling the same impulse and volunteers for ambulanceservice are numerous. Appeals for additional ambulance cars, moreover, have received generous response from America. It is estimated that anambulance costing $1500 will, before it wears out, carry two thousandwounded to hospitals and help the surgeons to save four hundred liveswhich otherwise must die from lack of prompt attention. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, November 1st. _ The last four days have been spent inaccomplishing as many as possible of the necessary preliminariesincidental to joining the American Ambulance. They include beingvaccinated, certifying whether one has had typhoid, getting measuredand fitted for a uniform, being presented to the various officers, going through a lot of formalities leading to the possession of aFrench chauffeur's license, filling out parentage and enlistmentblanks, and getting proper written introductions and identifications. All these steps have entailed a good deal of rather necessary "redtape, " for in war time it is essential to prove every step in order toavoid "mistakes. "

The equipment of the members of the corps consists of a khaki uniformof very heavy woolen cloth, a khaki overcoat, a fatigue cap, heavyflannel shirts, a khaki necktie, tan puttees, tan shoes, and a tanslicker. The members of the Ambulance obtain this outfit for thesurprisingly small sum of forty-seven dollars, each paying for his ownequipment. 

At odd moments I have been put through stretcher-drill and givenrudimentary first-aid instruction. This afternoon and evening I wassent as an orderly on an ambulance running to the suburban station ofAubervilliers at which trains of wounded make a brief stop on theirway from the front to the home hospitals in the south of France. It isfrom this station that the American Hospital receives its patients, invariably cases whose condition is so grave that they are thought tobe incapable of enduring further travel without fatal results. 

Upon entering the service of the Ambulance all volunteers, no matterwhat their ultimate position is to be, are required to attain acertain efficiency and practical knowledge in the actual handling ofwounded. I am now taking my turn at this service. One train ofambulances is always stationed in Paris and carries wounded from theAubervilliers station to the various city hospitals. This train ismanned by the latest recruits, who there undergo training, beingmeanwhile carefully observed by the staff officers. The majority ofthem prove to be good material, and in from two to six weeks are sentto the front, while those who are not judged to be reliable arereplaced by new volunteers. Candidates are not required to agree toany definite length of enlistment but are at liberty to leave wheneverthey so elect. On the other hand, the chiefs of the Ambulance Corpsmake no promises to send any volunteer to the front but reserve theright to select only those men who have first proved themselves fitfor such great responsibility. 

Field ambulances are virtually all alike and as a rule hold fourstretchers in two tiers. In front are seats for the driver and hisorderly, and behind is a boxlike body eight feet long with wooden roofand floor and canvas sides. From the back of the ambulance a woundedman on his stretcher is slid into place as a bread pan is slid into anoven, the feet of the stretcher running on wooden rails. In startingout to collect the wounded an ambulance carries its full quota ofstretchers. When a man is picked up from the field of battle one ofthese is taken out and he is carefully lifted on it; if he is alreadylying on a stretcher he is not changed but, in order to saveunnecessary suffering, put into the ambulance with the one on which heis already resting, --an empty one being left behind in exchange. Inorder that this process may always be feasible it is necessary thatall stretchers should be interchangeable; the Minister of War has, therefore, decreed that a standard stretcher called "Branquardréglementaire, " and no other, must be used throughout the Frencharmies. 

As the number of casualties has been overwhelmingly and unexpectedlylarge, the French have not up to date been able to give proper care totheir wounded. It is not uncommon for wounded men _en route_ from thefront to be on trains for three and four days, virtually uncared for, and usually without anything to eat. Such trains finally arrive inParis freighted with death and madness, with gangrene and lockjaw. Itoday saw two men who had been wounded a month ago and were still inthe clothes in which they had fought. 

The American Corps keeps ambulances at the Aubervilliers station dayand night in relays, so that at any moment not less than two cars arethere to receive wounded. Today I was assigned as orderly to anambulance on the afternoon shift which begins at one o'clock and endsat nine. The receiving station for wounded is a huge express shedabout three hundred feet long and sixty feet wide. A railway sidingenters through a big door and within runs longitudinally along onewall. A large storage platform occupies the rest of the interior, onwhich are arranged four parallel benches running nearly the wholelength of the shed. Each bench is about seven feet wide and has aslight slope for "drainage. " When we arrived all the benches werecrowded with wounded, who were packed side by side in four longghastly rows. They were wrapped up in their clothes--the same oldclothes in which they had fought. The French are, apparently, not surethat the Germans may not yet take Paris, for as a rule they do notpermit wounded to be sent to that city. Only those who are slightlywounded in the hand or arm and able to walk, or, on the other hand, those too desperately wounded to survive being moved farther, areallowed to remain in Paris. All the others, although they have alreadytaken two or three days to arrive from the front, are allowed onlytwelve hours "repose" before they are sent on to the south of France. This "repose" is taken on the benches described above or in similarsituations. If the shed is already full and additional trains ofwounded arrive, the late comers are left in their cars. Why anyoneshould consider a train which is standing still more reposeful thanone which is moving I cannot imagine. In Paris the wounded at leastget something to eat, usually coarse bread with meat and cheese. Theyarrive in those silly little freight cars marked "eight horses, " eachof which carries about eighteen wounded, twelve on stretchers in twotiers in each end and some six more standing or sitting in the aisle, which extends from door to door between the stretchers. 

On arriving at the Aubervilliers station we were on duty all theafternoon, and as no trains happened to arrive this meant standing inthe rain and doing nothing at all. After dark, however, three trainloads of wounded, each of some fifty cars, came in at intervals ofabout an hour. The wounded are so many that one counts them by trainsand the trains come so often that one loses count even of them. No onewho has not seen them can possibly comprehend the human miserycontained in one such unit. The first train arrived at five o'clockand brought five hundred cases. They had been two days on the way andhad had nothing at all to eat for the last nineteen hours. 

Seventy-five of their number were unwounded, but had reached such astate of nervous collapse that they could not endure life in thetrenches a minute longer, and had therefore, perforce, been sent tothe rear. I could not ascertain just how such cases were handled atthe front for the French were reluctant to discuss the matter. Certainit is that the instances must have been numerous, for the punishmentusually prescribed in war for such delinquency in the face of theenemy is death before a firing squad. The cases must have been sonumerous and the ordeal withstood at the front so terrible thatpunishment became impracticable. In extenuation it may be pointed outthat the French army, like any conscript army, contains everyable-bodied man of the nation, a certain proportion of whom areinevitably mentally below par and have been sent to war against theirwill or inclination. The British are the only ones who have foughtnight and day from the beginning without relays and seem to thrive onit, a fact chiefly due to their being picked volunteers all of whomare soldiers by choice. 

After the first train arrived a number of very desperate cases wereimmediately sorted out and given to our ambulances. The ambulanceupon which I served was the last to leave. We departed at seveno'clock, carrying a lieutenant of Chasseurs Alpins who had had hishand shot off and who showed symptoms of lockjaw, and a little privateof infantry, a boy with a delicate refined face, who had a badgangrenous shell wound in the right thigh. His leg was rotting away ina most frightful manner. He was delirious and as weak as a kitten. Heimagined he was a little child again and that his mother was causinghim all the pain he suffered. He moaned to her reproachfully. Wepicked our way as slowly and carefully as possible, never making morethan four miles an hour and actually avoiding every projecting stoneand cobble. In spite of our efforts, our charges suffered frightfullyand the delirious boy made this evident in a way which cast a silentspell upon the streets through which we passed. We went up overMontmartre and along the Boulevard Clichy, famous "wicked" street ofParis, because the road surfaces happened to be somewhat smoother. Aswe went we left behind us a trail of the intangible, all-permeating, sickly-sweetish odor of gangrene. 

It is very curious to see how virtually all fatally wounded men knowthat they are going to die and how they grasp it with a certaintywhich exceeds the certainty of anything else in life. They oftenrealize it sooner than the surgeons. It is most uncanny. Perhaps it isbecause their nervous system senses that its foundation has suddenlycrumbled. It is very impressive to see the quiet, optimistic calm withwhich they face the end, and the bigness of it. It makes one feelconfident that there is an after-life, or that it is at least right todie for an ideal. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, November 2d. _ Francis Colby, who drove me when I went to getthe children of the Countess X. , has recently enlisted in the AmericanAmbulance. He is at present organizing one of the new trains ofambulances of which he will probably have charge when it is complete. These new trains are to be made up of large cars, each carrying sixsitting or four lying cases. They will be able to travel five hundredkilometers without taking on gasoline, oil, or other supplies and areto carry repair outfits and food supplies. Every man in service withthese trains, no matter what his position, must have a Frenchchauffeur's license, thus providing not only greater elasticity inaction but enabling the men to drive in relays. The amount of detailconnected with the preparation of such units is immense. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, November 7th. _ Two ambulances are being shipped fromEngland to Boulogne, and Colby and myself with two other men are to besent out to get them. The necessary permits from the General Staffhave been applied for. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, November 9th. _ We received this morning the permits for thetrip to Boulogne. Dr. Walker and William Iselin are to accompany Colbyand myself; we expect to leave early tomorrow morning. We are to drivean ambulance--a twenty horse-power (English rating) Daimler--and onour way shall follow close to the battle line in order to huntsuitable locations for the new ambulance trains. We go by way ofMontdidier, Amiens, and Doullens, all of which contain base hospitals. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, November 10th. _ We left Paris at ten this morning by thePorte St. Denis and proceeded through Aubervilliers and Ecuen toChantilly, where we stopped for lunch. The motor had been running verybadly, and as no one else seemed willing to try conclusions with it Iundertook the task. The trouble proved to be in the carbureter. AfterI had taken this to pieces and put it together again everything wentsmoothly. While I was at work, the other members of the party wanderedabout the town and talked with the inhabitants, whose village had beenoccupied by the Germans for several days during their dash towardParis. It was well that the most valuable articles in the museum ofthe château had been hidden away before the Germans arrived, as theycarried off pretty much everything that was in sight. 

The first Germans who had entered the town had not worn thecharacteristic spiked helmet and many of the inhabitants had mistakenthem for English troops. Early in the war this error was frequentlymade by French peasants, to whom the British and Germans were equallyunknown. The townspeople were still laughing at one old innkeeper whohad freely given of his choicest supplies to the supposed Englishmen, and had spent the better part of an afternoon enthusiastically andvigorously grooming their horses, meanwhile keeping up a stream offrightfully abusive remarks "à propos de ces cochons des _Boches_, "much to the amusement of his Teutonic audience. 

 * * * * *

We arrived in Amiens after dark and there encountered an old friend inMr. Richard Norton, the American archeologist, who is at presentcommanding a British Red Cross unit in the field. We had dinner withhim and obtained from him much valuable information. 

 * * * * *

Mr. Norton's train has its base at Doullens. He is tonight in Amienson official business and has with him only his scout car and itsdriver. His train has received orders to report early tomorrow morningat a field hospital near the village of Bouzincourt which is only alittle more than two miles from the "German" town of Albert. His trainis to assist in the evacuation of some two hundred gravely woundedFrench soldiers who are threatened by heavy German infantry attacksand are even now under shell fire. At dawn he is to go direct toBouzincourt in his scout car and there meet his ambulances. We havedecided to accompany him to aid, if possible, in removing thewounded. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, November 11th. _ After an early breakfast, we followed Mr. Norton's scout car through a deluge of rain as it proceeded at a dizzypace toward the sound of battle. We passed through the villages ofQuerrieux, Laviéville, and Millencourt, getting into a "hot"neighborhood near the latter place. 

 * * * * *

On arriving at Bouzincourt we found that the German attacks had beendecisively repulsed at sunrise this morning and the French surgeons incharge of the field hospital had reconsidered their decision to movethe wounded, nearly all of whom were in a precarious condition. Theambulance train therefore returned empty to its base at Doullens, travelling by protected roads, while Mr. Norton's car, with our own, followed along the battle-line, his purpose being to scout forpossible wounded in order better to direct the afternoon operations ofhis train. 

 * * * * *

Not far from Colincamps we stood upon the crest of a hill beside agroup of nine French field guns. They were cleverly concealed in anartificial fence line carefully constructed in all its details alongthe hilltop. Fence posts had been erected and the artillerymen hadalso set up the trees, vines, and underbrush which normally follow andaccentuate the boundaries between fields. The day was so windy andrainy that we had no fear of being observed by German aëroplanes, andtherefore stood tranquilly behind the guns and talked with thecommanding officer. 

A mile below us in the valley we could through our field-glassesdefine the position of the French trenches and beyond them locate theGerman trenches. Between the two stretched that No Man's Land, called"between the lines, " which runs from Ostend through Bethune, Albert, and Lassigny to Soissons and Rheims and from thence to the Swissfrontier. Following its twistings and turnings this strip of land isfour hundred and fifty miles in length. It lies wrapt in uncannysolitude for in all its length there moves no living creature. Itchanges from beet-fields to plowed land, to pastures and back to theeternal beet-fields again. It runs across farms and over hills, through cities and under forest trees. It varies in width, herenarrowing to a few feet, there widening to several hundred yards. Fiveminutes would be ample time to walk across it anywhere, and yet it isthe most impassable frontier ever marked out by man anywhere on thesurface of mother earth. No person may cross it, no matter how exaltedhis position nor how mighty his influence, for throughout its lengthhosts of trained men lie ever ready to let loose upon any intruder athousand shells and a million bullets. 

What sights one might behold if one could, himself invisible, followthis ribbon of scarred earth as it winds its way across Europe fromthe North Sea to the Alps! Its length is mazed with barbed wire andelectric death, and menaced by pits and mines. Heaps of dead men liein the sun or rain, and the wounded cry faintly and more faintly untilthey too are dead. The plants and trees are blasted and even the earthhas been torn and tortured by explosions. 

At some point along this line a moment comes when thousands of menstart suddenly out of the bare earth like Sons of the Dragon's Teethand as promptly charge forward. For a brief moment their shouts areheard through the stillness and then their voices are drowned by onegreat hellish din, made up of the roar of guns, the crash of cannon, the scream of shells, and the shock of ear-splitting explosions. Theground under their feet heaves and shakes and the air about them isfilled with a confusion of flying dust and débris. 

 * * * * *

As we stood on the hill-crest and talked to the French officer afurious cannonade was going on around us. In our rear, hidden behindhills, three different French batteries were in intermittent action, and somewhere off beyond the valley in front lay the hidden Germanbatteries which were returning their fire. Shells from both sidespassed back and forth over our heads and the German shells banged andburst a thousand yards behind our backs. 

The guns beside us were silent. They had, undetected, held theirpresent position for a whole day. They watched the two lines in thevalley as intently as these lines watched each other, for in front ofus was one of those crucial points against which attacks arefrequently launched by the enemy. The batteries beside which we stoodwaited hour after hour for that sudden critical moment when theGermans should attempt to launch any attack between the lines. Thesenine guns could together fire two hundred rounds a minute, which meansseventy thousand shrapnel bullets. These batteries were connected bytelephone with the trenches a mile in front, and also with variousobservation points from which the results of their fire could beaccurately judged and cross-checked. 

A few hundred yards to our right in plain view across the open fieldswas the little village of Auchonvillers. Suddenly a great German shellburst with an earth-shaking shock in the open fields about threehundred yards behind it, throwing up a great cloud of inky black smokenearly as large as a city block. It made a crater more than a hundredfeet in circumference. The French officers said that it was either atwelve-inch or an "eleven-point-two" and prophesied that a second andmore accurate shot would soon follow and strike the village itself. Wewatched intently and some minutes later a great shell did fallsquarely into the little hamlet. Again a great cloud of jet blacksmoke shot up into the air, but this time it was mixed with bits ofhouses and fragments of earth. The smoke drifted off slowly, andreluctantly floated away on the wind until some minutes later we wereable to discern the town as it emerged from the cloud of dust, showinga great gap in its sky-line. 

 * * * * *

We had lunch in Doullens with the officers of Mr. Norton's train. 

 * * * * *

At one point in the front line we heard this story relative tobarbed-wire entanglements. A week ago a lieutenant and several of hismen ventured forth at night and succeeded in crawling unobserved underthe entanglements. Reaching the German trenches they leapt in amongtheir enemies and did much execution; but becoming too enthusiastic, they overstayed their leave, so that none of them ever returned. TheGermans, not wishing to be again surprised in such a disagreeablemanner, on the next dark night slipped out of their trenches and hunga great quantity of cowbells upon the lower strands of their wireentanglements. Before many nights had passed another party of daringFrenchmen again essayed to crawl to the German trenches but, ringingup the cowbells, were all killed in the resulting fusillade. 

Not content to leave the matter as it stood, an intrepid Frenchmancrept out on the following night, unwinding a ball of twine as headvanced. He succeeded in attaching the end of this to a cowbellwithout making any noise to betray his presence. He then made his waysafely back to his own trenches and from their shelter vigorouslypulled the string. A most ungodly clank and clatter resulted, wreckingthe stillness of the night. This aroused the Teutons and led them intoa solid hour of furious but futile shooting. The string was similarlypulled on several succeeding occasions and always produced the desiredresult of uproar and shooting, until it was finally severed by abullet. 

 * * * * *

Our party arrived in Hesdin at half-past six this evening. It wasraining furiously and the condition of the roads and the obscurity ofthe night made it extremely hazardous to proceed farther. The villagewas packed with British transports and we could find only one vacantbed in the whole place. Two of us slept in that and the other two onstretchers in the ambulance. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, November 12th. _ At eleven o'clock this morning we reachedBoulogne, which is at present a British army base and almost deservesto be called an English city. It is filled with troops, with Red Crossand Royal Army Medical Corps, and with transport wagons, all British. English is heard on all sides and the London Times is by noon on salein the streets. Bits of the front freshly arrived are much inevidence; one sees everywhere English Tommies on leave, woundedGhurkas, and convoys of sullen German prisoners. 

At present British wounded are being shipped to England at the rate ofmore than two thousand a day, which is probably one reason why theirforces on the Continent have not, in spite of their strenuousrecruiting and of the use of Colonial and Indian troops, exceeded twohundred thousand men. 

 * * * * *

The basins of the harbor at Boulogne are crammed with a heterogeneousmass of shipping--transports, warships, submarines, torpedo boats, Red Cross steamers, and great rafts of small sailing vessels whichwere tied up because of the war. The docks and wharves are piledmountain-high with great masses of supplies, and parks of ambulancesand war automobiles await call to service. 

Ambulances run hither and thither carrying wounded to the half dozenRed Cross boats which are tied up to the wharves. Each of these shipsis painted white with a great red cross displayed upon either side. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, November 13th. _ We did not succeed in finding the twoambulances for which we had come. Iselin left for London yesterdayafternoon to try to trace them in England. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, November 14th. _ On our return trip to Paris we leftBoulogne at half-past two yesterday afternoon and made a "forcedmarch" of sixteen hours straight through to Paris, where we arrivedthis morning at six. It rained in torrents all day yesterday, allnight long, and is still pouring today. We three worked in relays, onesleeping in the ambulance while another drove and the third read mapsand showed passports to sentries. Dr. Walker and I slept while Colbydrove alone over well-known roads as far as Abbeville, where wearrived at half-past seven. We left at eight after a hasty supper, andI drove the car straight through to Paris while Dr. Walker managed themaps. 

I reported to the Ambulance Headquarters this morning and found that Ihad been assigned to duty in assisting Captain Kipling with theexecutive details of the organization of the new ambulance trains. Infuture every train is to be composed of five ambulances, one repaircar, and one scout car, and is to be manned by an officer and thirteenmen. Each such unit is to be complete in itself and is called a"squad. " As such it will be assigned to duty with the Paris Hospital, with field hospitals, or with the French, British, or Belgian armies. The field work is to be controlled from Paris by Captain Kipling and aboard of three staff officers. O. W. Budd is to be Chief of Staff, E. W. McKey, Adjutant, and during the remainder of my short time ofservice with the Corps I am to have charge of equipment and material. 

The Corps has recently been recognized by the French army, and fromnow on will virtually be a part of that army. It will receive ordersdirect from the Minister of War and from the General Staffs. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, November 27th. _ Mr. Herrick leaves for America tomorrow. Today he was busy at his desk in the Embassy until late in theafternoon, during which time he dictated a personal letter to methanking me for my services under his administration, a document thatwill ever be one of my most prized possessions. 

 * * * * *

Donait's leave of absence has arrived from Washington and I am leavingwith him tomorrow via Switzerland with special dispatches for Berlin. 

I received an indefinite "leave of absence" from the AmericanAmbulance, nominally retaining my position as staff officer in hopesof rendering indirect service to the Corps after my return to America. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, November 28th. _ It is impossible for the French people tounderstand why the United States should remove Mr. Herrick from hispost just when he has so valiantly proved himself equal to the greatdemands which have been made upon him in the present crisis. In thediplomacy of other countries a plenipotentiary is never replaced intimes of great stress, except as a rebuke to him or as an intimationthat the policies he has expressed are to be reversed by hisgovernment. That a valuable diplomat should at a critical time bereplaced for reasons of mere party politics seems incomprehensible toEuropean nations. 

_Note. _--The French Government sent a representative to America on thesame boat with Mr. Herrick. As the ship was approaching land and Mr. Herrick was again virtually a private citizen within the bounds of hisnative country, this representative of the French Republic conferredupon him the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor, the highest order inthe gift of France and one usually reserved for her rulers and hervictorious marshals. As far as I have been able to ascertain, this isthe only time that such an honor has ever been conferred upon anAmerican. 

CHAPTER VIII

GERMANY AND BERLIN

_Berne, Saturday, November 28th. _ Donait and I left Paris at nine lastevening for Lyons, Culoz, and Geneva with dispatches for Berlin. Formany reasons we are particularly anxious to see Germany and Austria inwar time, and look forward keenly to the experience which we face. 

We arrived in Geneva at noon. We were very tired, for our train andcompartment were overcrowded and we had to sit up all night. Theresponsibility of the sack of official papers which we carried, and onwhich one of us had constantly to keep his mind, hand, and eyes, wasan additional element of fatigue. 

 * * * * *

We were forced to wait in Geneva until five o'clock for a train toBerne, where we finally arrived at nine this evening. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, November 29th. _ This morning Donait and I presented ourselvesat the American Legation and delivered our dispatches. It is thecustom to send all mail for the American Embassy in Berlin to theLegation in Berne, where it is opened, checked over, and re-forwarded. In the afternoon we paid our respects to the Military Attaché, MajorLawton. 

German newspapers are accessible to us this morning for the first timesince July. It is most interesting to view the reverse of the shield. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, November 30th. _ Berne is almost as much in a state of war asParis. The whole Swiss army of 500, 000 is mobilized and has been onthe frontiers since the end of July. The nation is on a war footingand seems to be about equally suspicious of all the nations concernedin the "present unpleasantness. " A certain quiet confidence, however, pervades Switzerland, a confidence which even a small nation may feelwhen it has an effective army. Every normal Swiss citizen is a trainedsoldier, for in his twentieth year he undergoes from sixty to ninetydays of intensive military instruction. 

I speak of the efficiency of the Swiss army. I might add that theGermans would undoubtedly have preferred to invade France throughSwitzerland rather than through Belgium. Their flank would then nothave been exposed to the disastrous pressure of the British army andnavy. The fact of the matter is that they feared the British and theBelgians combined less than the Swiss. So great are the advantages ofreasonable military preparedness. 

_Preparedness and military system_ are not synonymous with a largestanding army. A small, well-prepared army may be the nucleus aroundwhich an efficient military system can be built. The Swissorganization is at present most interesting, for it has saved thatcountry from becoming involved in the present war. Had Belgium been aswell prepared as was Switzerland, Germany would have observed sacredtreaties and invaded France _across the Franco-German border_. 

The efficient Swiss military system, which can put 500, 000 trained andorganized men into the field, costs less than ten million dollars ayear. Our ineffective American standing army of 85, 000 men costs usone hundred millions a year, on a peace footing. The difference is dueto the fact that the frugal, thrifty Swiss, like most other nations, do not consider civilians competent to meddle with militarymatters--or that national defense should be subject to the vagaries ofparty politics--or that an army is a fit subject for the experimentsof amateur social scientists. 

In spite of the cruel calamities which have in the past overtaken theUnited States because of her perpetual unpreparedness, we still insistthat because we do not believe in war we therefore need no militarysystem. It is as if we held that since we do not wish to be ill wewill abolish physicians--or as if we believed that because we do notdesire to have our homes burn down we will do away with the firedepartment and with insurance. No matter how pacific a nation may beit cannot avoid war by signing peace treaties, either singly or by thebushel. Reasonable military preparedness is the _only_ valid insuranceagainst disastrous and ruinous war. 

We did without this war insurance in the decade from 1850 to 1860, when we at that time needed insurance only to the amount of 100, 000trained soldiers. This would have cost about seventy-five millions. Had we possessed this insurance the Civil War would never have beenfought. For the lack of it our country missed disintegration by ahair's breadth, and escaped disaster only because we happened to haveone of the great men of history as President. The ultimate victory waswon at a cost of which the following items were only a part:

 750, 000 lives. 10, 000 million dollars in national debt and pensions. 25, 000 million dollars in property damage. 

All this would have been prevented by a protective expenditure of 75millions a year. 

No more fatal delusion was ever cherished than the belief that "ittakes two to make a quarrel. " In world history it has seldom neededtwo to make a quarrel. Did Belgium quarrel with Germany?

Our legation in Berne has always been the most isolated, humdrum spoton earth. People stationed here nearly died of ennui; nothing everhappened, until all Europe suddenly was plunged into the conflagrationof war, and then Berne became, of necessity, the clearing house forthe continent for dispatches, mail, telegrams, money, prisoners, andrefugees. Every telegram which the American Embassy in Paris sends tothe Embassies in Germany, Austria, or Italy is directed: "AmericanLegation, Berne. Repeat to Gerard"--or Penfield or Page, as the casemay be. 

German prisoners in France are numbered in tens of thousands and for along time the only means of communication from them and to them was bymeans of the two American Embassies through the American Legation inBerne. The little three-room Berne Legation with its small staff wassimply overwhelmed with work. 

Donait and I were sent by Minister Stovall to make a verbal report onthe situation of the Germans in France to Baron Romberg, the GermanMinister to Switzerland. I was much impressed in this my first touchwith a German official. He is rather small, slim of body, but keen ofmind, with excellent repose and control. Like all German diplomats, hespeaks faultless English. A startling evidence of the efficiency ofthe German Information Bureau was furnished by the fact that healready knew to the minutest details nearly as much about my work inParis in caring for German subjects as did I myself. 

He spoke quite unreservedly about many matters but did not attempt todraw us into indiscretions as do so many foreign diplomats whendealing with younger men. 

This evening I walked out along the embankment in front of theParliament Houses and watched a gorgeous sunset and Alpine glow uponthe snow mountains of the Bernese Oberland. 

 * * * * *

One is not permitted to telephone in English or in any language exceptGerman or French (the native languages of Switzerland), and even thenthe telephone girls listen closely to one's conversation. 

 * * * * *

Donait and I have made all our preparations to depart for Berlin earlytomorrow morning, our dispatches having been sorted out, checked, andre-pouched. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, December 1st. _ We reached the Swiss-German frontier at noontoday. We descended from the train at Basle and drove three miles tothe frontier. Here there were two barriers straight across the road, the nearer one guarded by numerous Swiss soldiers; the farther, sometwenty yards behind, by soldiers wearing the spiked helmet. Before wewere allowed to pass the first barrier our papers and luggage wereminutely examined by Swiss military and customs officers. We thenwalked across the twenty yards to the second, or German, barrier, where we were conducted into a little guard-house. Here some dozensoldiers were sleeping or playing cards on cots in the backgroundalong the walls. An efficient sergeant examined our papers and thenallowed us to pass the second barrier into Germany, showing markedrespect for the Herr Lieutenant and the Herr Attaché. 

We loaded our suit-cases in a second vehicle, a German one this time, and proceeded some two miles to the railroad station of Leopoldshöhe. While we stood on the station platform at Leopoldshöhe, heavy guns inbattle could be heard off toward Mülhausen and once there came thetypical crash of a big shell exploding much nearer, probably not morethan three or four kilometers away. As near as that to a battle inFrance one sees a disorganized, deserted, wrecked countryside, withwagon trains going back and forth and wounded soldiers stragglingtoward the safety zone. Here in Germany everything was in the mostperfect order, with no excitement or confusion, and passenger trainsleft on the minute by schedule time. It was difficult to realize thatthere was a battle within a thousand miles. 

The moment one enters Germany one feels efficiency as if one hadpassed under a spell. The way the feeling immediately impresses itselfupon one is a curious psychological phenomenon. One senses at once thewonderful civic consciousness of the nation and respects it. One doesnot throw waste paper out of a carriage window, nor take trivial shortcuts, nor walk on the grass, nor attempt to pass through ticket gatesbefore the proper time. Everything is regulated, all is done in order. 

I was momentarily embarrassed and self-conscious when first I foundmyself rubbing shoulders with gentlemen in spiked helmets. During thepast four months I had seen them only as prisoners or dead men, andtheir only greetings had been by way of their shells and bombs. 

After an all-day trip from Leopoldshöhe down the Rhine Valley Iarrived in Mannheim, where I am to remain over-night, as I haveletters which I am instructed to leave with our Consul in this town. Donait stopped off en route for a day to visit the old familyhomestead from which his ancestors emigrated to America. I arrivedsafely in Mannheim about ten o'clock, went to the Park Hotel, which Iselected from Baedeker, got an excellent room, and went immediately tobed. 

 * * * * *

_Mannheim, Wednesday, December 2d. _ At half-past seven thismorning I was awakened from a sound sleep by a pounding at my door. Iclimbed sleepily out of bed and, in pajamas, opened the door to twoextremely polite and suave Secret Service men who, nevertheless, examined my papers with the greatest thoroughness and as carefullycross-questioned me as to my race, color, and previous condition. Theyasked to see my dispatches, whose seals they studied in order to becertain that I was really carrying some sort of official messages. Having listened with close attention to my story, they asked me out ofa clear sky where Donait was and why he had left me. They capped theclimax by reminding me that at Leopoldshöhe I had told the sergeant wewere bound for Berlin, which was exactly what I had told him, nothaving considered the brief stop at Mannheim of sufficient importanceto be mentioned. When they had received a satisfactory explanation ofthe discrepancy (the conversation having staggered along in German, ofwhich my knowledge is limited) they thanked me politely and withdrew. I dressed, had breakfast, and presented myself at the Consulate justbefore the opening hour at ten. 

I was received by the Vice-Consul, Mr. Cochrane, and had not been inthe Consulate five minutes when the police office called him up bytelephone and asked politely if I was "all right. " It was my firstlesson with the German Secret Service, but the only one I needed toprove that while I was in Germany my every move was noted and that Iwas to be constantly under police surveillance. 

After delivering my packages to the Consulate I waited until afterdinner for Donait, with whom I am to leave for Berlin at nine o'clock. I took luncheon with Vice-Consul Cochrane, spent the afternoonsightseeing in the streets of the city, and dined with Consul Leishmanand his wife. 

 * * * * *

_Berlin, Thursday, December 3d. _ Donait and I had a whole compartmentto ourselves last night, which shows how normally German railroadsare running. We arrived in Berlin at eight o'clock this morning, bathed, dressed, and had breakfast, at eleven o'clock presentedourselves at the American Embassy and delivered our precious dispatchpouch to Mr. Grew, the First Secretary. 

I was surprised and much pleased to find that an old playmate, CharlesRussell, was Private Secretary to Ambassador Gerard, a position inwhich he has achieved a great success. 

Our duty discharged, we hastened to take our first walk along thefamous Unter den Linden. The city of Berlin is well laid out, withwide avenues and numerous and ample park spaces, some of them verylarge, but the architecture of the city is a jumble of heavy, clumsy, gloomy buildings, fussed up with most extraordinarily crude andgrotesque details. For an architect to be in Berlin is next door tobeing in hell. 

Our Military Attaché, Major Langhorne, has been at the front almostcontinuously since the beginning of operations. In his absence, wecalled upon the Naval Attaché. I also called at the American Consulateto leave dispatches and found that the Vice-Consul had been one of myclassmates at Yale. He remembered me as "Fish Wood" the runner, andprobably in true Yale spirit considered my occupation of Attaché muchless important. 

The present conditions in Berlin are as unknown to the outside worldas are the domestic affairs of China. In order not to make too manydiplomatic _faux pas_, I spent the first day talking with the men whomI knew and in accumulating useful data as to danger points. As one inGermany senses efficiency, one as quickly becomes conscious of theall-seeing eye and the all-guiding hand of the Government. We havenothing like that in America, and for an American in France there isno such supervision. Life in Prussia is at present, for the diplomatof a neutral country, much like skating on thin ice. Several of theyounger diplomats in Berlin have unconsciously committed actsconsidered indiscreet by the German Government, and so ended theirusefulness in Germany. 

 * * * * *

It is a mistake to suppose that there are dissensions or differencesof opinion in the German nation, or that the Kaiser or the militaryparty has imposed war on the people. In modern times it would not bepossible for even an absolute monarch to force an unwilling peopleinto such a momentous step. The German Government is the product andexpression of the German people. They have made it and, having createdit, they are proud of their work. The Emperor is in popular estimationnot much lower than God Almighty, and the two seem inextricablymingled in the public mind. The world-wide amusement created by "Meund Gott, " or by the Emperor's firm conviction that he and he alone isworthy of divine aid and approval, is an amusement not shared by anyGermans. If you say to them, "the Emperor seems to think the Germanpeople are the one race chosen of God and that He works only for themand their advancement, " the Germans will promptly and emphaticallyreply: "why, of course; all our past history proves that. " The Godthey appeal to, however, is the God of Battles of the Old Testamentand of the ancient Hebrews, who slew His enemies, destroyed nations, and annihilated races, who was cruel and vindictive. 

 * * * * *

The German nation is, up to this date, but little cramped by the war. The people and the army lack for nothing. All the shops, hotels, restaurants, theaters, and dance halls in Berlin are open and wellpatronized. Several million men fit for military service have not yetbeen called out, because they are not needed. At the front they havesuch a great body of infantry that a certain proportion of them are byturns given a vacation and allowed to return to their homes. TheGerman officers say that Germany did not count on a speedy terminationof the war; they even believe that it may last four years and facethis possibility with courage and with confidence of final victory. Asfor the famine conditions, I did not accept German opinion about theabundance or price of food supplies, but myself asked prices in shopsand public markets and in various restaurants and hotels--all surethermometers of any rise in the price of food. 

If Germany ever pleads famine it will be for some purpose ofdiplomacy. In times of peace she raises each year more than she canherself consume and is an exporter of food-stuffs. This year she had agood crop, and, needless to say, it was, with characteristicefficiency, entirely harvested. She has retained for her own use thesurplus usually exported. Every possible lack that war might bringhad been anticipated and provided for, or a substitute suggested. Thecountry does not produce as much wheat as she consumes, but Germanscientists have produced a potato flour which, when mixed with wheat, makes excellent bread, as I myself can testify. Potatoes areplentiful, as Germany usually exports large quantities. 

The army appears to lack nothing. Military necessities like wool, lead, gasoline, nitrates, ammunition, accoutrements, and hospitalsupplies they seem to have in superabundance. 

 * * * * *

_Berlin, Friday, December 4th. _ William Iselin left Paris withdispatches for London and Berlin at the same time that we started viaBerne. 

In Berlin, restaurants, cafés, theaters, and concerts are going atfull blast. Donait, Iselin, and I, who have for months been workinglike dogs in Paris, which is as dull as a country village and wherecafés close at eight and restaurants at nine and no places ofamusement are open other than a few poor cinemas, are thoroughlyenjoying the contrast. We three dined together at a splendidestablishment where we ate many elaborate courses while listening toa good band and watching an excellent variety show, which lasted untileleven. From then until two we wandered about to various dance andsupper establishments. 

 * * * * *

All the banks in Berlin are open and will pay out gold in certainlimited quantities to anyone who wishes to go to a foreign country. Gold brings par and no more. Auto-busses are running everywhere andmany private automobiles are seen on the street which have not beenrequisitioned by the government. Trams and subways also run at allhours. In short, the life of the city seems to be pretty nearlynormal. The only signs of war disasters are the convalescent woundedsoldiers who walk about the streets. 

 * * * * *

One is impressed by the virility and vigor of the Germans as a race. Their national spirit also is wonderful, exceeded only perhaps by thatof the Japanese. People who one day read the announcement of the deathof a son, a father, or a brother, are seen the next day in the streetsor cafés going about quietly, expressing or betraying neither sorrownor regret. The loved one has died "für Gott, für König, und fürVaterland. " That is glory enough, and neither the Emperor nor thepeople feel that it is appropriate to mourn for one who has died forhis country. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, December 5th. _ I went this morning with Donait to inspectthe prison camp at Zossen, which is about forty kilometers from Berlinand holds at present twenty thousand French soldiers, guarded byfifteen hundred of the Landsturm. Their camp was surrounded by threelines of very high and effective barbed-wire fences. In each of thealleys between these fences German sentinels paced back and forth. Theprisoners seemed to me to be excellently cared for and were healthy, well-fed, and fairly contented. They were physically better off thanthey would be in muddy trenches at the front. They have all been givensome kind of work to do, such as caring for their own prison camps, cooking, and building sheds for themselves or barracks for the Germanarmy. We saw a procession of about two thousand who came in from anear-by forest carrying tremendous bundles of faggots for firewood. Asthey marched they were singing, with a good deal of spontaneousgusto, a ribald French song. We considered their condition a greatcredit to their captors. 

 * * * * *

We were shown the famous great parade ground of Berlin. It is animmense field, quite flat, beautifully turfed, and about one and ahalf miles square. In one corner is about one-third of a square mileof pine woods with little rolling hills and an imitation forestcountry where troops can be drilled in skirmish formation. Youngsoldiers were being trained thereon in advancing in echelons and intaking up well-hidden firing-line positions. 

The regular army of Germany as it has been recruited each year hasabsorbed just over half of the eligible men of the nation. Militaryservice therefore has by no means been universal, and there areseveral million men of military age who have never been utilized. Overtwo million of the latter have volunteered since August, only twohundred and thirty thousand of whom have as yet been accepted fortraining. In addition not all of the regular army has yet been broughtinto service. 

The German officers have, since the opening of the war, adaptedthemselves to changed conditions with unexpected flexibility. Theyimmediately relaxed their ordinary overbearing manner and assumed acloser relationship with the private soldiers. They do not, as theirenemies report, drive their men but they themselves lead to battle. They are idolized by the nation as a whole and by the army inparticular. They do not address the soldiers of the rank and file inthe second person singular, but in the more respectful second personplural. 

The Kaiser has already awarded thirty-eight thousand iron crosses. Hetakes the ground that he is nevertheless maintaining the standard of1870. He says that the numbers now involved are so much larger and thedemands in courage and endurance so much greater that thousandsdeserve to be decorated in the present conflict where hundreds won thehonor in the Franco-Prussian war. 

I lunched today with Commander Gherardi, the Naval Attaché, in orderto discuss with him what we had each seen of the war on the westernfront. He is making an important study of operations on the easternbattle-lines and has several times been to the front. 

Today I was told that although it was impossible to go into Belgium toobserve operations, it was probable that I would soon be sent toBrussels with dispatches to the American Minister, Brand Whitlock. 

I have recently been introduced to many very interesting Germans, bothdiplomats and officers, and have obtained many valuable ideas. Thereply I receive whenever I ask Germans what they want and expect togain in this war, and what terms of peace they, at present, hope tosecure, is almost invariably the same. They all say: "we will nevergive up Belgium; we mean to keep Poland; we would like to have Calaisand hope eventually to get it, but.... " They point out that they haveso far constantly taken the offensive rôle, which must often fail inmodern war, being by far the more difficult part to play. They declarewith conviction that when once they take the defensive they can neverbe beaten back. They cite the fact that for the last three months theyhave on the Aisne in temporary positions maintained an unbroken front, despite the persistent efforts of the Allies to drive them back. Theyadd that except Calais and Warsaw they now hold virtually everythingthey want, and to keep it permanently they need only to stand on thedefensive. 

A few weeks of victory or defeat will naturally modify their presentambitions. From a material standpoint it is difficult to refute theirargument, but moral and sentimental reasons have before now turned thetide against the "strongest battalions, " despite Napoleon's verdict. Germany herself begins to suspect that her brutal invasion of Belgiumhas turned the moral sentiment of the world against her, and that herdefeat would grieve few people not of German birth. 

 * * * * *

_Berlin, Sunday, December 6th. _ About the atrocities in Belgium thereis, apparently, no question, but considering the way the Germanscontrolled themselves in France, some explanation of their brutalityfarther north in Belgian Flanders is necessary. The Germans say thatthe cruelties were not all on one side; that the Belgians practisedsniping, impeded the German army, and mutilated German wounded. Theonly one of these charges that seems to have been proved is that ofsniping, but even if other cruelties were committed it must beremembered that the moral status of the Belgians was entirelydifferent from that of the Germans. The Belgians were aroused to blindfury by the disregard of their neutrality rights and the unwarrantedinvasion of their peaceful country. Even from Germans I have heard noexcuses for the violation of Belgium which might not have been equallywell put forward by a needy burglar who breaks into an unprotectedhouse and plunders it after bludgeoning its helpless inmates. Is itremarkable that the liberty-loving Belgian peasant who saw his homedestroyed or his family abused, knew no sufficient reason why heshould stand supinely by and welcome the destroyer? More brave thanwise, too furious to reason calmly, he did what he could to retaliate, which is against the rules of war. Consequently a merciless foeinflicted the uttermost penalty upon him, his family, and the wholeregion in which he lived. The world has never witnessed more frightfuland disproportionate punishments. 

The Germans on the other hand were morally in quite a different case. They were the aggressors, the treaty breakers, and the invaders of apeaceful country of neighbors and friends. Their part was to betolerant and to make allowance for individual violations of the rulesof war. The world at large will never concede that occasionalinstances of sniping can justify the destruction of whole villages, the execution of thousands of men, and the violation of thousands ofwomen. When our American marines occupied Vera Cruz similar instancesof sniping were frequent. Our men did not, however, burn, kill, rape, and pillage. They were forced to fire at the custom-house because itwas occupied by snipers and in so doing they incidentally damaged thetower of the building. After the fighting was over, the Americans feltsuch regret for even this necessary bit of destruction that theyrebuilt what their shells had damaged. Their only retaliatory actionwas to shoot snipers when they were caught red-handed. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, December 7th. _ The German infantry, after spending acertain length of time at the front, are given a vacation and senthome. I could not ascertain the exact length of their stay in thetrenches although it seems to be about a month. The artillery staycontinuously on the battle-line as their work is less arduous andnerve-racking, since they are always somewhat toward the rear andusually well housed. Moreover, they fire only occasionally and havelong periods of inactivity. The cavalry spends one week in action andthen one week in the rear, some ten or fifteen miles behind thefiring-line. 

Recently I had a long conversation with a German statesman ofambassadorial rank, who spoke with intense feeling of the plight ofthe thousands of German subjects, men, women, and children, who hadbeen caught in France at the opening of the war and interned indetention camps. He said: "It is ridiculous for the French to suspectany of these people of being spies, for German spies are not weak orunprotected, but strong, picked men and women, highly trained to maketechnical observations. In the present scientific age untechnicalobservations are valueless. When I was Minister Plenipotentiary at---- there were many thousands of German subjects in that city andnot one of them could have given me information of any possiblevalue to our great General Staff. German spies in France are neutralor French in nationality, or pretend to be such, and they all carryunimpeachable papers. For a man to admit frankly and openly that he isa German is proof enough that he is not a spy. We in Germany recognizethis and do not shut up alien enemies who frankly announce theirnationality. "

It was not fitting that I should enter into diplomatic discussion witha high German official, but if I had been talking as man to man, Icould have reminded him that the spy panic which seized Paris at theoutbreak of the war was entirely the fault of Germany herself, for itis an open secret that her spy system is her pet weapon of offense;her enemies therefore, naturally, see a spy in every Teuton. It isalso well understood that, spy or no spy, every German man, woman, andchild is admonished, when traveling in foreign countries, to "watch, record, and report anything of interest to the German Government. "

All the accusations that have been brought against France, that shedid not properly provide for her interned prisoners, that she did notadequately care for her own wounded or the wounded of her enemy, thatshe did not give efficient support to her English allies on theretreat from Mons to Compiègne, resolve themselves into oneconclusion, that she did not want or expect instant war and was notprepared for all the emergencies which the German attack precipitated. But all the world knows that she speedily supplied deficiencies andremedied defects with great ability and indomitable courage. 

In saying that alien civilians in Germany were not interned in prisoncamps the German diplomat evidently thought I knew nothing about thevile detention camps at Ruhleben and of the English men and women whoare there incarcerated to suffer beyond anything that the Germans everendured in France. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, December 8th. _ I went to the American Embassy this morningto obtain the necessary paper for my departure tomorrow for Vienna. Mr. Grew called me into his private office and said that AmbassadorGerard was particularly anxious that I should go to London instead ashe had dispatches of the utmost importance to send and would feelindebted to me if I could take them. He warned me that the undertakingwould not be pleasant or altogether safe. I promptly accepted themission, --indeed such requests are, in the Army, the Navy, and theDiplomatic Service, made only to be accepted. I am to leave BerlinThursday morning at 8:59 and go through Germany and Holland toFlushing, where I shall take a boat across the North Sea to Folkestoneand thence to our Embassy in London. 

 * * * * *

This evening I looked over the casualty lists posted on the walls ofan official building. These lists are published on numerous very largesheets of white paper. Each sheet has three columns in fine print. Thenames are grouped by regiments and companies, so that all thecasualties of one company appear together; each name is given in full, is prefixed by the rank, and followed by the nature of the casualty, which is one of five things: Gefallen (fallen, killed); schwerverwundet (badly wounded); verwundet (wounded); leicht verwundet(lightly wounded); vermisst (missing). A casualty list is publishedevery day, comprising from forty to fifty of the above-mentionedsheets, each sheet containing nearly three hundred names. 

The last seven sheets were as follows:

 No. 90 published Dec. 1--40 sheets 91 " " 2--50 " 92 " " 3--52 " 93 " " 4--44 " 94 " " 5--52 " 95 " " 6--48 " 96 " " 8--48 "

This gives a rate of more than 12, 000 casualties a day. The lists arecomplete up to October 30th. Only the last ten lists are kept postedand thus tonight there were numbers 87-96. The sheets of these tenlists were posted in a double row on the outside wall of the buildingalong the sidewalk. They extended the length of a block and thenaround the corner another block. As the columns of one regimentfinished, those of the next commenced. I copied the record of abattalion chosen at random. 

 Eighty-second Bavarian Casualty List 11th Infantry Regiment of Regensburg Third Battalion

(Here followed a list of places and dates of actions in which theRegiment had taken part):

 Faxe, August 20th; Manhouè, August 23d; Maize and Drouville, August 25th; Tourbeffeaus, Sept. 7th to 9th; Spada, Sept. 24th; St. Mihiel, Sept. 28th and Oct. 7th to 24th; Ailly, Oct. 1st and 2d; Han-sur-Meuse (date illegible). 

(Then followed a detailed list of casualties suffered by the fourcompanies of the battalion):

 Company 9 had a list of 148 casualties, of which 18 were killed, 35 missing, 42 wounded, and badly wounded, and 43 slightly wounded;

 Company 10 followed with a list of 146 names, of which 19 were killed, 51 missing, 66 wounded and badly wounded, and 46 slightly wounded;

 The Eleventh Company with a list of 188 names. 

 The Twelfth Company with a list of 143 names;

A German battalion is composed of four companies of 250 men each. Thusamong one thousand men there were more than six hundred casualties inthe first three months of the war, and this seemed to be about anaverage list. These lists take no account of those who "died ofwounds, " and "missing" is usually a polite way of saying "dead. " Itmeans that the man was too badly hurt to escape, to be helped by hiscomrades, or to crawl back, and probably was left "between the lines"to die. This explains what at first appears to be a singularly smallpercentage of killed. 

 * * * * *

_Berlin, Wednesday, December 9th. _ This afternoon I made my finalarrangements for the trip to London. Whenever a special messengerdeparts with dispatches from the Embassy a Jäger accompanies him tothe train, carries the mail-bags and pouch, and sees him safelysettled in his compartment. When he arrives at his final destinationanother Jäger from the Embassy to which he is going meets him at thestation. 

CHAPTER IX

CARRYING DISPATCHES FROM BERLIN TO LONDON

_Thursday, December 10th. _ Soon after the train left Berlin thismorning I judged that I was being shadowed. When it pulled out of thestation there were four people, including myself, in the six-placecompartment, the two middle seats being vacant, one on my left as Isat next the window and the other diagonally facing me. Soon after thetrain was well started two men came in and occupied these seats. Thisin itself was suspicious, since people do not seek seats while a trainis in motion. Both moreover had the air of being detectives. I, bythis time, know the type well, for I have been constantly shadowedever since my arrival in Germany and am perfectly certain that myrooms have several times been searched while I was absent. I simplycontinued to behave with the greatest possible circumspection, thetwo detectives meanwhile staring at me constantly with fixedintensity. 

It was a bit unpleasant because I did not certainly know the nature ofthe dispatches I carried, but realized that they were extremelyimportant. They were in a small leather mail pouch, padlocked andsealed, which I had set on the floor between my feet and knees. Everything went quietly for some two hours. I could not look out ofthe window in towns and yards because I might have seen troop-trains, factories, etc. , and that would have been "indiscreet. " The part ofGermany from Berlin to Holland is utterly flat and uninteresting, sothat there was no pleasure in looking at the countryside betweenstations. I pretended to doze, or read three German weeklies which Ihad bought. One of these finally precipitated matters. It was the_Fliegende Blätter_, a comic paper of about the class of _Life_ or_Punch_. There was in it a joke in German argot which had been toomuch for my scant knowledge of the language and the courier who hadescorted me from the Embassy had by the merest hazard translated itfor me. In my desperate efforts to amuse myself I was looking throughthis sheet again and encountering this joke thought, "If I don'twrite down the English I shall forget it. " Whereupon I took out apencil and wrote the translation interlinearly. 

Soon afterwards one of the detectives got up, went out into thecorridor, and came back with three conductors who, in Germany, ofcourse, are military officials. The three civilians who had shared thecompartment left us as if they had been rehearsed. One of thedetectives then suddenly burst into a perfect berserker rage, gettingquite purple in the face, and snatching up the _Fliegende Blätter_proceeded carefully to turn over the pages again and again, holdingeach page against the light. It was altogether melodramaticallyridiculous. Taking the paper from me in this way, although offensive, was perhaps within his rights since it concerned me only in a personaland not in an official way, and so I sat quite calmly in my seat and, biding my time, made no move of any kind. I paid no attention to theconductors, judging the detective to be the kingpin and the conductorsmerely dragged in as a matter of routine. None of them could readEnglish and they chose to regard the interlineation (one line ofabout ten words) as extraordinarily suspicious. 

The detective asked me for my passports and did so without goingthrough the customary formality of showing his police card. I demandedas a matter of routine that he do this and began to draw out of mypocket the large envelope in which I keep all my documents in order totake out my Eagle-stamped German courier's paper. Without complyingwith my request he grabbed for this envelope, while at the same momentsomeone jerked at the bag which was between my knees. All this was anaffair totally different from that of the _Fliegende Blätter_. I hadthoroughly thought out what I would do in an emergency if Germanofficials should attempt to take my pouch from me, and had decidedthat I should make enough of a resistance so that there should be nopossibility of disputing the fact that physical force had been usedand an assault committed. This would "let me out, " since adispatch-bearer cannot be expected successfully to defend himselfagainst the whole Germany army. Incidentally I might add thatinterference in any way with the dispatch-bearer of a neutral countryis a very heinous international and diplomatic sin. I thereforejerked my envelope of papers rudely out of the detective's hand andgave him a vigorous shove, resisting an almost overwhelming temptationto hit him with all my might on his fat, unprotected jaw. I had halfrisen to my feet, meanwhile keeping a grip on the dispatch bag with myknees, and at the same time I vigorously swung my hips and freedmyself from the man below. The detective struck the opposite wall ofthe compartment and bounced off toward the doorway, where he and theconductors stood jabbering and waving their arms and ever getting moreand more purple in the face. 

Finally the detective showed his police card, and I then extended tothem my Eagle-stamped courier passport, following it with my Embassycredential and my certificate of identity or personal passport. Thesethree made a complete case and I refused to show anything more, insisting that my status had been adequately established. Theofficials continued to jabber and argue, having been continuouslyimpolite during the entire episode, a mode of behavior which was anotable divergence from my previous experiences with agents of theImperial Secret Service. The chief detective, whose name was Werther, continued to hang around, trying to talk with me, evidently determinedto get further information about my plans. 

I do not pretend to judge whether all this was mere accidentalclumsiness and rudeness on the part of stupid detectives or if it wassomething very much deeper, prompted by someone higher up. One is, however, inclined to doubt inefficiency in the Prussian Secret Serviceand there may have been reasons why German authorities would count itof great importance to know the contents of my pouch. 

At the Embassy in Berlin I had been told to change trains at a placecalled Löhne where I was to arrive at two o'clock. Just beforereaching this point, the conductor came through and told me that itwould be much more convenient for me to stay on the train until Essen, that this would give me one less change in my journey to Flushing, andthat it was altogether a better route. (I must remark that, besidesthe bag in hand, I had in the baggage car all the routine mail for theState Department in Washington, amounting to some two hundred andfifty pounds in two big leather mail-sacks. ) Although I replied that Ithought it better to change at Löhne anyway, the conductor insistedupon my following his plan. He was backed up by the detective, who, except for various goings out and in, had remained facing me. Theyinformed me that in any event my mail-bags in the baggage car would gothrough to Essen. As by this time the train was already slowing up forthe station at Löhne, I accepted the inevitable. 

Essen is not on the most direct route to Goch where one crosses theGerman border into Holland, and in consequence I arrived in Goch viaEssen much too late to catch the last train from there to Flushing. Since boats leave Flushing only once a day, early in the morning, Ihad to lose one whole day and was compelled to remain another night onGerman soil. 

I do not pretend to offer any explanation for these strangehappenings. I was followed constantly thereafter, as previously, themen being cleverly changed at every opportunity. My every step wasdogged. At Wesel a detective sat at the same table in the stationrestaurant while I ate dinner. Such being the case I was, to say theleast, a bit annoyed. 

At Essen during a fifteen-minute wait for a change of trains, Iwithdrew to one end of the platform after having rechecked the two bigmail-sacks. I was standing alone, with a detective, as usual, off inthe background, when a man who looked a typical raw-boned Englishmandrew near and hung around, staring at me. I looked him up and down andthen turned my back thinking, "Another detective!" It was impossibleto believe that an Englishman could be, of all places, in Essen. Hefinally approached me, saying in English of a most perfect andpronounced British accent, "Are you an American?" I replied, "Yes, areyou a police officer? If so, please show me your card. " He replied, "No, I am in a delicate position. I am trying to go to England thisevening. I have American papers. You must see me through. I am ----. "I cut him short by saying that I regretted, etc. , and deliberatelywalked away. From that time on this man dogged me everywhere, tryingto pass through gates with me and to get into the same compartments, even following me to the same hotels and restaurants, and trying tomake anything he could out of my presence. I never lost sight of himfor long until we finally set foot in England, where he did finallyarrive, in spite of some very close shaves. I last saw him giving me avery ugly look as I landed at Folkestone. Whatever his nationality, hecertainly was a spy in the German service. 

An uneventful journey of some four hours across Holland brought me toVlissingen, as the Dutch call Flushing, and there I spent theafternoon, wandering about in boredom, trying to pass away the slowhours until the boat arrived and I could climb into my berth. 

 * * * * *

_London, Saturday, December 12th. _ We had an exciting trip across theNorth Sea, taking zigzag courses to avoid mine-fields and sightingnumerous destroyers and one sunken ship. We successfully avoidedeither hitting a mine or running into a torpedo. The boat was packeddown with Belgian and French refugees. One Luxembourger had been awhole month getting to Flushing from his home in Belgium. I was muchrelieved when I arrived at Victoria Station with my pouch and found aclerk from the Embassy waiting for me, and still more relieved when wehad deposited all the bags safely at their destination. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, December 13th. _ I went to the Embassy this morning for aconference with the American Military Attachés; and later tookluncheon with one of the Secretaries. I had cabled to Paris to have mymail sent on to meet me in London, but it did not arrive; I have, therefore, had no letters from home in some weeks. I cannot telegraphto America details of my future plans. Imagine the face of any Britishtelegraph operator if I were to hand him a cable saying: "I am leavingagain for Berlin and Vienna, " which is exactly what I am to do. Ireturn immediately with dispatches from England to our Embassies inGermany and Austria. My plans are subject to modification by officialorders, but I shall probably remain in Berlin only one day and then goto Vienna and Budapest. The bag I am to take to Berlin contains notonly official dispatches, but a large sum of money. 

England has well prepared herself for a Zeppelin raid. Every skylightand the top of every street lamp in London is painted black. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, December 15th. _ An officer of the staff has given me aninteresting theory as to the disconcerting effect produced by thebursting of the big German shells on the morale of the troops--howdisconcerted no one can imagine who has not himself experienced it. Hewas himself near such a shell when it exploded. It rendered himunconscious. He was blind for some time, deaf for two weeks, andsuffered from loss of memory for over a month, --and all this withoutany surgical wound. He thinks the nervous effect produced by theexplosions at a distance is due in a lesser degree to the same sort ofshock. On one occasion a number of big shells exploded in succession ahundred yards from a trench; and although no one was wounded orsuffered any physical injury, such was the demoralizing effect of thenervous shock that all the men in the trench fled and did not recoverbalance until they had run a quarter of a mile. Meeting a staffofficer and receiving from him a stiff reprimand they all returned totheir posts. The whole episode took place without any casualties. 

 [Illustration: THE BRITISH DESTROYER ON THE NORTH SEA [Just after she "brought us to" with a blank shot]]

I leave for Folkestone this evening, where I spend the night on boardship. The boat sails for Flushing after daybreak. 

 * * * * *

_On the North Sea, December 16th. _ It has been a wonderful stormy daytoday; as an officer said: "a typical North Sea winter day"--a leadensky, roaring wind, smothers of rain, great black-green waves allflecked and blotched in white, big sea birds and little gulls dippingdown the wave valleys and soaring up the wave mountains, and the shiptaking the most foolish and impossible angles. It was an odd thing tosee the gulls which followed the ship, all pointing the other way, inorder to maintain their position relatively to the boat and againstthe heavy wind coming up from astern. At lunch the dishes jumped theracks and smashed along the floor; on the return heave all thefragments rushed back the entire width of the dining saloon. Eatingwas difficult. 

Two hours out a British destroyer came dashing up in our wake, makingtwo feet to our one. She was a most picturesque sight, long, low, andspeedy, painted black; her towering knife-prow thrust out in frontand the long, low hull strung out behind. She "brought us to" with ashot across the bows, and as we wallowed in the trough of the sea, shewent by to starboard fairly shaving our side. The officer on herbridge, over which great waves of spray and water broke at everymoment, "looked us over" and then bellowed orders to our Captainthrough a megaphone. My unpractised ear could not through the roar ofthe wind and the slap of the waves catch all he had to say, but it wassomething about submarines and a naval battle to the northward andorders to change and take a different course through the minefields. [3] Whereupon we pursued a very zigzag course. In a moment wewould turn 120 degrees and proceed for miles on the new tack. We tookat one time or another nearly all directions of the compass. Sometimesthe smoke from the funnels went off straight at right angles to ourcourse; at others it preceded us. 

[Footnote 3: It was on this morning that the German fleet bombardedthe towns on the east coast of England. ]

CHAPTER X

VIENNA

_Vienna, Saturday, December 19th. _ I remained in Berlin only one dayand started this morning for Vienna with dispatches, arriving late inthe evening after an uneventful fourteen-hour journey. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, December 20th. _ I presented myself at the American Embassythis morning, delivered my dispatches, and had a conference with Mr. Grant-Smith, the First Secretary. At luncheon I met Colonel Biddle, anofficer in the Engineer Corps of the United States Army, who hasrecently arrived in Austria in order to go to the front as a militaryobserver. The afternoon and evening I spent with Captain Briggs, Military Attaché at the Embassy, studying and comparing the militarymethods of the eastern and western fronts. Captain Briggs hascollected, with an energy and intelligence that can fairly be calledamazing, an immense quantity of valuable military informationrelative to the operations and practices of the Russian, German, Austro-Hungarian, and Serbian armies. 

 * * * * *

The Austrian army officers and privates suffer by comparison with theGermans. The soldiers one sees in the streets of Berlin are big, husky, strong, healthy creatures, with jowls hanging over theircollars. The officers are clean-cut, keen-eyed, and in splendid healthand training. Austria seems distraught and unready for emergencies, the people are not as keen for the war as the Germans and appear to bemore indifferent as to its results. I am predicting that the end ofthe war will see Japan, Italy, and Roumania gainers, and Belgium, Turkey, and Austria losers, while Germany and England will beapproximately in the same positions as before the war. Russia hasrelatively little to gain or lose. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, December 21st. _ I had a walk and talk with AmbassadorPenfield this morning; took luncheon with Mr. Grant-Smith and wentafterward to the Embassy. Later in the afternoon I went with CountColloredo von Mansfeld to the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Office and thencalled on the Countess Potatka to whom I had brought letters ofintroduction. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, December 22d. _ After luncheon today Mr. Grant-Smithpresented me to Wilhelm Prince zu Stollberg Wering Rode, Conseiller ofthe German Embassy in Vienna, who made an appointment with me forThursday. 

I am meeting many officials, American, German, and Austrian, but atpresent I cannot, without indiscretion, state just what they discuss. 

I went today to the Wiener Bank Verein with Mr. Grant-Smith who wishedto arrange some safe deposit boxes for the Embassy. The building issaid to be the most beautiful bank building in the world, and I caneasily believe it. Knowing my professional interest in architecture, Mr. Grant-Smith asked the Director to show me the building, which hemost kindly did, taking me from top to bottom--a privilege I am toldseldom granted to anyone, and for which I was very grateful. 

Austria-Hungary is an extraordinary country. I doubt if anything likeit exists in this our day and generation. The Emperor-King iseverything. He could well say without exaggeration "L'État c'est Moi!"The common people really look upon the king as divine. Socialism anddemocracy do not exist, --the words seem to have no real meaning forhis subjects; and Parliaments are but his dutiful servants. Lese-majesty is almost unheard of because the idea of questioning theEmperor-King or anything he does would no more occur to his subjectsthan to doubt the Immaculate Conception would occur to a devoutCatholic. 

And what an extraordinary old man--what a relic of past ages thisEmperor-King Franz Josef is! He ascended the throne at the epoch ofour war with Mexico, he had reigned nearly two decades at thetermination of our Civil War. He refutes and blights the theories ofDr. Osler. Two successive heirs to the throne have died or been killedoff, but he "goes on forever. " He is personally a very devoutCatholic, but apparently has seldom or never allowed himself to bepolitically dictated to by the Vatican. When he learned of the recentignominious defeat of his armies by the Serbians and of the retakingof Belgrade, the old man first burst into a furious rage and then satdown with elbows on the table, his head in his hands, and prayed forforgiveness and future successes. 

In Austria's history one discovers no victories. She is an unusual andpliant State to survive so many defeats. One finds her the easy preyof Frederick the Great, the pet victim of Louis XIV. , the foe againstwhom Napoleon made his first youthful efforts and the vanquished ofhis prime, the defeated foe of Napoleon III. , the vanquished tyrant ofItaly united, the loser in Prussia's Thirty Days' War of 1867, and nowthe gradual loser against Russia's wild, numberless hordes. She hasalready lost all of Galicia and stands with her back to theCarpathians and has been held off on equal terms by Serbia these fourmonths past. A supine State, she is always defeated, and yet alwaysremains and ever grows. 

Austrian money is now greatly depreciated. In ordinary times one getsabout 487 crowns for $100, while today one obtains 575. American moneyhas at present the highest rate of exchange. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, December 23d. _ This morning I had a most interestinginterview with Count Szecsen, the Austrian ex-Ambassador to France, and spent the afternoon in conference with Captain Briggs. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, December 24th. _ I made a verbal report to Prince zuStollberg this morning on the situation of German subjects in France. After luncheon I had a most interesting talk with Mr. NelsonO'Shaughnessy, of Mexican fame, who is Conseiller at the Embassy. Later I went for a most delightful automobile ride with AmbassadorPenfield, who showed me the Prater, the Danube, the Basin, theExposition Building, and the Ring. Afterward Mr. Thomas Hinckley, thesecond secretary, took me to see the Christmas tree in the AmericanHospital, all ready for tomorrow's fête for the wounded soldiers. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, December 25th. _ It seems very triste to be way off next toAsia on Christmas Day, on the day when one most wants to be at home. However, I had two Christmas feasts and a warm welcome into twoAmerican homes. I took luncheon with Mr. And Mrs. Nelson O'Shaughnessyand dinner with Captain and Mrs. Briggs, enjoyable visits that made ahappy day out of what would otherwise have been a very sad one. 

In Vienna, as in Berlin, the fashionable hours are very late and oneis more or less forced to follow them. Nothing happens before noon andevening entertainments end somewhere in the early morning hours. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, December 27th. _ This morning I was allowed by specialpermission to visit the Imperial Museum, which is closed to the publicon account of the war. I took luncheon with Mr. Cardeza, Attaché tothe Embassy, and dined with Mr. O'Shaughnessy. The American diplomatsin Vienna and Berlin generally have been very much isolated since thewar began, and in each place the corps has become much like a bigfamily whose members see a great deal of one another. 

 * * * * *

Count Berchtold, whom I have seen on several occasions, is a wiry manof medium height, always grave, intent and all-observing under a maskof stolidity. He never "talks" and seldom speaks. When he does he isterse and speaks out of one corner of his mouth as if reluctant to letthe words escape. He is, however, noted for the most unfailing andperfect manners. It is said he can hear perfectly every separateconversation that may be carried on in any room where he happens to bepresent, and not only hears what is spoken but catches every littlemotion or hint of important matters. Such is the man whose hand struckthe match that lit the long-prepared conflagration in which the totalmilitary casualties alone already far exceed five million. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, December 28th. _ I went again to the Imperial Museum thismorning and later took luncheon with the Count Colloredo von Mansfeld, to meet Conseiller Black Pasha of the Turkish Embassy. Conferences atthe Embassy with Captain Briggs, Mr. Grant-Smith, and Mr. Hinckley. 

 * * * * *

The man who did as much to bring about this war as any single agencywas the German Ambassador to Vienna, Heinrich von Tschirski undBögendorff. 

I sent home today by cable our code-word "greetings" as a New Year'smessage. It goes through the Embassy here in Vienna and the StateDepartment at Washington. It cost me eighteen crowns, but I know itwill be worth many times that to my family, as it must be some weeksnow since they have had news from me. 

CHAPTER XI

HUNGARY

_Budapest, Tuesday, December 29th. _ I left Vienna at nine o'clock thismorning and reached Budapest at two. I had tea with Mrs. Gerard, whois in Budapest visiting her sister, Countess Sigray. I called at thehome of Count Albert Apponyi to leave my card and letters ofintroduction. I dined with Mrs. Gerard and the Count and CountessSigray. 

 * * * * *

The great Hungarian plain, bounded by the Carpathians on the east andby the Danube and the Save on the south has been inhabited by theHungarian people for more than a thousand years. The inhabitants ofthis plain number about sixteen millions at the present time. Theypride themselves upon the fact that they have maintained theirnational entity since the Ninth Century, although they have stoodalone and exposed in the middle of Europe, without any of thegeographical advantages which accrue from a situation of insularisolation such as has been enjoyed by the English. 

The world in general insists in thinking of Hungary as an Austrianprovince and in counting Austria-Hungary one country, whose name hasbeen hyphenated with the sole purpose of inconveniencing conversationin foreign countries. As a matter of fact, Hungary and Austria are twodistinct nations, inhabited by antagonistic races who speak differentlanguages and hold different ideals. The Hungarians are of Magyardescent and speak a beautiful, musical language, while the Austriansare a mixture of many races whose common tongue is a borrowed, unclassical German. Each country has its own government, its ownparliament, and its own cabinet officers. The Hungarian nobilityregard the Austrian nobles as mere upstarts. Nothing is so displeasingto a Hungarian as to be called an Austrian, or to be told thatAustrians and Hungarians are one and the same people. 

Surrounded by three powerful enemies, the Turks, the Austrians, andthe Slavs, they have not succeeded in continuously maintaining theirliberty during the ten centuries of their existence as a nation. Theycame under the domination of the Turks during the sixteenth century, but under the leadership of Prince Eugene they with the assistance ofAustria succeeded in liberating themselves in 1716. In 1848 they weresubjugated by Austria assisted by Russia and ever since that time havelooked forward with confident anticipation to the day when they may bestrong enough to become again an independent nation. The diplomats, statesmen, and scholars of their noble families have labored soastutely and successfully towards this end, that the state of bondagewhich succeeded the conquest of 1848 has gradually and by successivemoves been lightened, until today their relations with Austria may beapproximated by the statement that Franz Josef, King of Hungary, happens to be at the same time Emperor of Austria, and that the twonations have a close defensive and offensive military alliance. Inorder to promote the efficiency of this alliance, their War andForeign Relations ministries are united into single organizations. There is one Austro-Hungarian Minister of Foreign Affairs, but thereare separate Ministers of Education, Agriculture, etc. History showsthat the salvation of Hungary has often depended upon the ability ofher leaders to play their three powerful neighbors against oneanother. 

In the present war they are making use of alliances with Austria andTurkey, the two most decadent of their three historic enemies, inorder to stem the onrush of Russia, their third and most powerfulantagonist. They are a people ever faithful to their alliances even tothe point of unselfishness. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, December 31st. _ Budapest is one of the most beautifulcities I have seen. The great Danube, deep, magnificent, andrapid--500 yards wide--flows by, with Buda on its right bank and Peston its left. Great hills sheer out of the water and on them are thegovernment buildings and the Royal Palace. The humbler structurescluster in the valleys between the hills. Most of the architecture ofthe town is very good and the worst of it is better than the averageelsewhere. The river, spanned by four handsome bridges, is skirted oneither side by drives and official buildings; museums and expensivehotels face these drives. The city is in every way very modern, withbroad avenues, excellent street-car systems, and clean, well-litstreets. 

 * * * * *

_Friday, January 1, 1915. _ I spent today in sightseeing, --the firstday in several weeks that I have been free from social engagements. Itook a guide from the hotel in order to waste no time and miss nosights that one ought to enjoy. We went to the public market, theIndustrial Museum, the Art Museum, the public park, and the Cathedral. My guide was a most convulsing person. He was supposed to speak"perfect English, " but achieved some extraordinary effects. Would youknow what "sinkim pork" might mean? He said, "everyone eats it on NewYear's Day, " and so I perceived it to be "sucking pig. "

Some provisions have gone up in price; flour is doubled in value andthe government has had to fix a maximum legal price. Meat and game arecheaper than usual, perhaps because many people are killing andselling their animals to save the grain which would otherwise have tobe used to feed them. 

The utter ignorance of the people concerning everything that ishappening outside of Vienna and Budapest is amazing. The governmenthas somehow convinced the people that everything in the war is goingwonderfully well, and this in the face of the unsuppressible factsthat there are at present no Austrians in Serbia and that the Russianshold all Galicia and have been through the Carpathians. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, January 2d. _ The German comic paper Simplicissimus recentlymade a cartoon comment on the Austro-Hungarian army and the wholeissue was suppressed by the censor in Austria and Hungary. The drawingshowed a group of three Austrians, a general, an officer, and aprivate. The soldier had a lion's head, the officer an ass's head, andthe general had no head at all. 

Austria and Germany have not as yet produced one "great man. " TheAllies have two--Joffre and Kitchener and possibly a third inDelcassé. 

The Austrian Emperor is a little man, slightly stooped, rathershriveled-up and possessed of a pair of keen, shrewd eyes. He is anable follower of the Emperor Ferdinand who once replied to thestatement that a certain one of his subjects was a patriot by saying:"I don't care if he's patriotic for the country, but is he patrioticfor me?" Franz Josef is cold, pitiless, and does not hesitate to ruinin a moment his most faithful servitor if he is at any time guilty offailure, or commits a blunder. Even when a minister or general isforced to carry out an order in spite of strong protests, he hasrelentlessly broken him if any catastrophe has resulted. A notablecase is that of the general who commanded the Austrian armies in thebattle of Sadowa. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, January 3d. _ I have managed to get in a good deal of readingon boats, trains, and at odd moments since I left Paris, and it hasenlarged my comprehension of this war. I have carefully studied everybook on the war and subjects related to it. I have read several timeseach the books of Bernhardi, Nietzsche, and Steed's "HapsburgMonarchy. "

 * * * * *

_Monday, January 4th. _ In Hungary there are few princes or dukes; thehighest nobles are counts, whose titles retain something of the oldsignificance of hereditary rulers of a "county. " The serfs have onlyrecently been liberated and to all intents and purposes the feudalsystem still exists, in spirit if not in form. Among the counts inHungary, several stand out conspicuously above the rest; among themare the Karolyis, the Apponyis, the Hunyadis, and the Wenkheims, allof whom are interconnected by marriage and close social relations. These people maintain themselves on their vast estates like rulers ofsmall principalities. 

At the request of the Countess X. I had written to her mother, theCountess W. , before leaving Vienna, and found her answer awaiting meat the Consul's office when I arrived in Budapest. I learn that shealso communicated with Count Berchtold, the Prime Minister of theEmpire, with Count Szecsen, ex-Ambassador to France, and with theHungarian Premier, so that in case I missed her letters (she sent meone to Vienna and one to Budapest) these gentlemen would see to itthat I went to visit her, as she wished to thank me personally forwhat I had been able to do for her daughter, and also to hear directnews of her grandchildren. 

I left Budapest early this afternoon and arrived after dark atBékéscsaba, which is about half-way to Belgrade. I was met by amajordomo who appropriated my luggage and led me to a private car on aprivate railroad belonging to the Countess. We started immediately andran in about twenty minutes to the gate of the estate where sheusually resides. Here I was carefully transferred into a waitingcarriage and was tenderly tucked into numerous fur rugs by two orthree strong men. The two splendid horses turned through the gates fora ten-minute drive across a beautiful park to the castle--and such acastle! It is equal in size and charm to some of the famous Frenchchâteaux along the Loire which I studied last spring. 

I was carefully unpacked again under a splendid porte-cochère andushered by numerous flunkies into the presence of the Countess. Shereceived me in a tremendous room with a lofty ceiling, and in apreliminary talk of an hour she took off the first keen edge of herappetite for news. 

My bedroom is perfectly huge and has two ante-rooms--for the personalservants whom I do not possess. We dined at eight, there being at thetable, besides the Countess, a daughter and her companion, aFrenchwoman. During dinner the Countess mentioned that the warnecessitated frequent readjustments in the management of her estates;that the military authorities had recently taken another five hundredof her men for service in the army. She asked me if I enjoyed huntingand, upon receiving an affirmative answer, said that she would send mefor an hour or two with the pheasants in the morning. She warned methat the shooting would be poor because no care had been taken of thepreserves since her sons departed for the war. 

 * * * * *

_Békéscsaba, Tuesday, January 5th. _ I was awakened at nine by a valetwho came in, opened the blinds, shut the windows, brought thebreakfast specified by me last night, and assisted me to bathe anddress. 

At ten I paid my regards to the Countess and then the chasseur-en-chefwho was to take me for the morning's sport was presented to me. Iclimbed into a shooting wagon, which then drove across fields sometwenty minutes to a woody country. I was provided with two beautifullittle English "16-bore, " one of which was carried by a loader whowalked always behind my right elbow. The game was pheasants, partridges, and hares, the latter perfectly enormous, being thirtyinches long when held up by the feet. While hunting I was followed ata respectful distance by the shooting wagon in which I was expected toride when going farther than fifty yards, and by another wagon whichwas to carry the game I was expected to kill. The game was all naturalwild game, not the domesticated kind of the English system. Thechasseur had with him a dozen peasant boys as beaters. I "walked up"and "flushed" game myself, except when there was a particularly goodbit of cover; then I was conducted ahead with many bows to awell-selected spot, whereupon the beaters in a line began at adistance of a hundred yards and "worked through, " knocking theirsticks together, a process that several times resulted in my beingabsolutely overrun by a burst of pheasants flushing from alldirections, flying at all heights and angles and traveling likebullets. In two hours I killed seventy-three pheasants and partridgesand twenty-three hares, and this in spite of the fact that my shootingwas erratic. Thus at one spot I killed eight pheasants with as manyshells without changing my feet (it was there that the loader wasuseful) and then a few minutes later missed five running. 

At noon the young Countess drove out with her French companion to joinme. She watched the shooting until half after twelve and then drove mehome for luncheon. It is the custom for the men who start shootingearly to be sought out and brought home to luncheon by the ladies, orto be joined by them for lunch in the woods in case of an all-dayshoot. The game is shot only by the nobles and their guests and thereseem to be no Robin Hoods among the devoted peasantry. 

If this shooting to which I had been treated was considered by theCountess to need an apology, I was curious to ascertain what shecalled really good hunting, and so I propounded the question. Shereplied quite seriously that the best shooting to be had upon herestates was hare shooting and that on a good day five guns wereusually expected to kill four thousand between the hours of ten andthree. 

 * * * * *

To an American it is very extraordinary to see feudalism in fullswing; to have every person whom one meets anywhere, stop, raise hishat, and make a deep obeisance; to have even the slightest word orrequest to anyone answered with a low bow and an instantly bared head. It is still more surprising to realize how sincere and devoted is allthis homage. Everyone for miles around acts in this same way to theCountess, to her daughter, and, of course, to any of their guests. Toan American it all seems several hundred years out of date. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, January 6th. _ There were guests for dinner tonight, noblesfrom neighboring estates. One of the men is about to start on anautomobile trip to the Serbian and Carpathian fronts. He is to be awaysome four or five days, leaving on Monday. He begged me to go with himbut I resisted the temptation, for I am now forty-nine hours' travelfrom London and must soon be turning my face westward. 

I went to mass this morning in the little plaster church of a villagenear the castle. The acolytes were small peasant boys, and wheneverthey knelt down they turned toward the congregation prodigiousboot-soles studded with a surprising array of shiny hobnails. 

 * * * * *

_Thursday, January 7th. _ In bidding me good-bye last night, theCountess took my hand in both of hers and before the assembled dinnerparty thanked me for my services to her daughter and said sheappreciated my having given her two days of my valuable time;--all ofwhich she did in so gracious and charming a manner that I not only wasnot embarrassed, but felt it was reward enough for any _two_ trips tothe front. 

Nearly all my conversations since entering Austria-Hungary have beencarried on in French, since it is spoken by virtually everyone withwhom I have come in contact. In Hungary all the people of consequencespeak four languages, Hungarian, German, French, and English, butFrench is generally preferred to English by all except those to whomEnglish is the native tongue. 

I left Békéscsaba at nine this morning and arrived in Budapest earlyin the afternoon. 

 * * * * *

_Budapest, Friday, January 8th. _ I lunched today with Consul-GeneralCoffin and dined with Countess Sigray. 

 * * * * *

_Saturday, January 9th. _ Yesterday on my arrival in Budapest I foundawaiting me an invitation from Count Albert Apponyi to visit him athis castle at Eberhard, near Pozsony. I left Budapest at eight, reached Pozsony about eleven, and drove to Eberhard, where I wasreceived by the Count. 

I was extremely impressed on meeting Count Apponyi. I had anticipatedsomething unusual, but he was quite beyond my expectations. He isabout six feet three inches tall, has a splendidly erect carriage, andis a most impressively handsome man. He has a broad well-shapedforehead sloping back steeply, splendid blue-gray eyes, the biggestthinnest nose in the world, enormous nostrils, a strong sensitivemouth, and a grayish square-cut beard. The "grand old man of Hungary"looked up to his title. 

He has been a member of the Hungarian Parliament for forty-two yearsand has several times held ministerial portfolios. His progressiveideas have usually landed him in the position of leader of theopposition. He has invariably been Hungary's representative at allinternational meetings, peace conferences, and inter-parliamentaryunions. He is a decade ahead of his day and generation, being probablythe most progressive man in all Hungary. This, coupled with hisblood, his magnificent appearance, and his wonderful education, makehim an extraordinary power in the affairs of the kingdom. He has twicebeen in America. He has several times visited ex-President Rooseveltat the White House and at Sagamore Hill, and the Colonel has been aguest here at Eberhard. The Count also knows intimately such men asLowell, Untermyer, Butler, and Taft, and appreciates theirideas, --"the American idea" as he calls it. It is no wonder that theother less advanced Hungarian nobles criticize his ideas and methods. 

The Count's French is exquisite, and he speaks English as I haveseldom heard it spoken, --as the cultivated Frenchman speaksFrench, --with purpose, with science, as an art. His enunciation iswonderful and he instinctively picks out words to aid rhythm andenunciation. Of his native language, Hungarian, and of his German, Iam not capable of judging. 

I admired the Count's library. Three sides of the big room werecovered with filled shelves, which lapped over into the rooms oneither side. Such a conglomeration of books;--leather bindings, cloth, paper, stacks of pamphlets, all jumbled together and yet inorder. The books were indiscriminately in French, German, Hungarian, Latin, Italian, English, and Greek, all languages which the Countknows with great thoroughness. In reply to my admiring comment, helooked around the library a bit sadly, I thought, and said slowly:"Yes, it means much to me. It has grown out of my life. "

The Apponyi castle has stood in its present shape for over two hundredyears. Like all contemporaneous residences of feudal chiefs, it wasbuilt primarily for defense and this determines its general structure. It is square with a great court in the center, in the middle of whichis a well-house. The castle walls are of stone nearly three feetthick, plastered over with cement and painted white. It is two storieshigh with a steep ungabled roof and is virtually guiltless ofarchitecture. The only entrance to the building is through an archwayleading under the front face into the interior court. No outsidewindows existed in the original structure but many have since been cutinto it. The castle reveals many signs of age. The floors in all thehalls and rooms, except those of the salons, are of stone, and littleuneven hollows on their surfaces show where the feet of manygenerations have left their mark. The libraries and salons, six orseven in number, were remodeled some time during the last century andare remarkably fine. 

At present one side of the castle has been converted into a hospitaland here some twenty-five wounded Hungarian soldiers are cared for. 

At luncheon there were as guests the Count and Countess KarolyiHunyadi and two of their sons, and the Countess Herberstein, whosehusband is a general in the army. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, January 10th. _ I had the honor of a very interesting walk andtalk with Count Apponyi this morning. Among other things he said: "Isometimes let my younger daughter (aged 12) play with the children ofthe peasants on the place. It gives her an understanding of life, andbesides, there is no one of her own age and rank in this part of thecountry. " This for a Hungarian nobleman is an extremely democraticremark. 

The mass in Count Albert's private chapel was most interesting. Thechapel is built into the castle as a part of it. The family assembledin a little oratory or balcony giving off the second-floor hall. Fromthis oratory one looked down upon the service and upon the peasantscrowded together below. It was glassed in so that one viewed thespectacle through windows, so to speak. These had two panes whichcould be opened if one desired to hear more clearly the service orsermon. 

 * * * * *

In a long conversation, Count Apponyi, in answer to my questions, madethe following statements as to Hungary's attitude in the war, which hedefined as being a conflict between Orientalism and Occidentalism:

"You who live in America do not have to consider or define thedifferences between Occidentalism and Orientalism. You aregeographically isolated from Orientalism and are so axiomaticallyOccidental that the issue is not yet a vital one for you. You do nothave to search for concepts and definitions in this regard. The samewould be true of the Chinese who are so extremely Oriental--who are sonear the South Pole, so to speak--as to find thinking about the matterunnecessary. They take their Orientalism as a matter of course, as doyou your Occidentalism. 

"But we of Hungary who are on the geographical frontier ofOccidentalism, who are, in these present centuries, Occidentalism'scontenders in the everlasting battle between East and West, and whofind ourselves at death-grips with Russia, the present-day aggressiverepresentative of Orientalism, we, I say, have need to consider suchmatters and to find concepts upon which to build. 

"Thus I, as a Hungarian, have my definitions, my lines of demarcationbetween the two. My definitions of Occidentalism are four in number. Any nation which fails in one or more of them is on the Oriental sideof the line. The four items are:

 "(1) _The distinction between spiritual and temporal power--the mutual independence of Religion and Government. _ The form of religion or the form of government does not and cannot decide the question. Thus in Russia the Greek Christian Church is Oriental because it makes itself one with the State and is used by the State as a club to keep the subjects of the State in political subjugation. 

 "(2) _The recognition of the equal value of woman and man. _ Occidentalism feels that woman and man are different but does not feel that man is superior to woman. Discussions of the _differences_ between man and woman sometimes occur in Occidental countries as was the case in the late disputes in England as to woman's fitness for politics. There was no implication that man was an animal superior to woman. In Occidentalism woman and man are considered equal before the law and in the eyes of God, while in Orientalism women are often little better than slaves and in some eastern religions are not supposed after death to go to heaven. 

 "(3) _The recognition of the rights of the individual. _ All individuals are considered equal before the law. The individual is not a means to some end--he is an end in himself. This is laid down in its spiritual aspect in Christianity and in every form of Christianity. The difference consists in this: that in Occidental Christianity it acted as a germ--as the principle of an evolution which led through a painful ascension of numberless steps to the idea of juridical and social equality. In Oriental Christianity the germ remained secluded in the spiritual sphere, without taking effect in the secular order. 

 "(4) _The recognition of the dignity of labor. _ In Occidentalism there is none of the feeling that to labor is unworthy; there is none of the feeling that to labor is the part of slaves and lower creatures. Christ was a carpenter and the son of a carpenter; he chose his disciples from amongst fishermen and laborers and laid down the rule that labor enhances the dignity of man. 

"These four items contain the elements of all progress and that is whyOccidentalism alone is really progressive. Whatever progress isachieved by Orientals consists in adopting certain technical resultsof Occidental evolution. This does not mean that Oriental nationscannot be strong and powerful, for many of them have at times beenpowerful. While they _are_ powerful, their policy is necessarily oneof aggression, because their energy is not able to assert itself ininternal progress and must, therefore, find an outlet in foreignaggression. Note Russia. In history you will find that the cessationof aggressiveness in an Oriental nation has always meant either thebeginning of decay or, as was the case of Hungarians in the 11thcentury, of an evolution toward Occidentalism. In the 11th century theHungarians were Oriental--now they are Occidental. That may follow inRussia too if she is defeated in the present war. Paradoxical as thestatement seems, defeat contains brighter prospects for her thanvictory. For nations at large the victory of Russia would mean theadvance of the inferior Eastern type of civilization at the expense ofthe superior Western one, a calamity not to be considered withoutshuddering. "

He continued: "Turkey is no longer an aggressive representative ofOrientalism. She is even trying under the 'Young Turks' to becomeOccidental. Her 'Young Turks' are laboring for results which wouldinclude all my four definitions of Occidentalism. Her participation inthe present war does not fall under the head of East versus West, butis inspired simply by consideration for her own safety as an Asiaticpower and as the guardian of Constantinople. In a general sort of way, there is no formula that covers the whole ground of all the phenomenaof any great action. There is always an intersection of motives. Asbetween Russia and Austria-Hungary, the present war is a struggle ofthe East in its Russian form against the West, but two other forcesare at work which, although they do not concern us in the least, combine with this one. These are the Anglo-German trade rivalry andthe Franco-German race antipathy. "

Since I have been in the countries of the Dual Alliance I have beenanxious to secure a clear and reasonable declaration of the motiveswhich actuate the leading men in the nations comprising it. It was notpossible to obtain such an explanation in Germany, because peopleeither frankly admitted that Germany's purpose was to become throughmilitary aggression the dominant power of the world, or they flew intosuch a rage at the mere question that nothing they said was eitherreasonable or consecutive. Even the carefully prepared literature ofthe Imperial Foreign Office failed to impress me as logical orsincere. It was, therefore, a pleasure to obtain from the Count astatement of what may be called the Hungarian point of view. 

Somewhat later in the day I asked the Count what his answer was to thestatement so often repeated by the Allies, that the sovereigns of theDual Alliance forced war upon their people. He replied:

"The German, Austrian, and Hungarian people were not driven into thewar by their sovereigns, and could not have been so driven. Theyapprove the war because they realize its necessity as a defense. Theywished to avoid it as did their sovereigns. They were all compelled toaccept it as the only means of defense against an aggression cynicallyplanned and carefully prepared. "

 * * * * *

_Monday, January 11th. _ I had intended to leave on an early train thismorning, but when I broached the subject the Count would not permit itand insisted that I stay until tomorrow afternoon, when he is calledto Budapest by government duties. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, January 12th. _ After breakfast it snowed a few minutes. Alittle later it commenced to snow in earnest, --great, fat, lazy flakesfalling out of a leaden sky. From one of the castle windows the Countand I watched them against the background of some fir trees in thegarden below. "That is good, " said Count Apponyi. "That will be goodfor my wheat-fields just sprouting. It will cover them and keep themwarm. I have now long been hoping for the snow, which is overdue. "Some moments later I said, "The falling snow is for me one of the mostbeautiful motions in nature. " He replied: "To me falling snow alwayssuggests Patience. A flake of snow? _Ce n'est rien!_ (with a gesture). But it falls and falls, never hurrying, each little flake a distinctentity, and at last it makes the world beautiful--and it also coversmy wheat-fields. "

 * * * * *

The Hungarian nobles receive an education very different from ours. Ifanything, it leads to greater individuality. From infancy they learnfour languages--their native one, and German, French, and English. Tothis is added an elaborate knowledge of courtesy, custom, precedence, and manners which is taught them from childhood. The boys are alsotrained to ride and shoot. They are sent to school between the ages ofthirteen and seventeen, where they learn Latin very thoroughly and geta smattering of other things. They almost unconsciously absorb theknowledge of managing the great estates which constitute theirwealth. They have a taste for reading and prefer rather seriousliterature. With a perfect knowledge of Latin, English, German, andFrench, nearly all masters are open to them in the original. They missonly a few: Dante, Cervantes, and the ancient Greeks, although themore scholarly ones like Apponyi know Greek. Since they have muchleisure, they often possess by the time they are thirty anextraordinarily interesting amount of knowledge. In Hungary everyonefrom peasants to counts is musical. 

We took lunch today in the perfectly splendid old castle of theKarolyi Hunyadis at Ivanka. The other guests were the CountessHerberstein and an Austro-Hungarian General of Division, whose name Idid not catch. Count Apponyi and I drove over together from Eberhardand after luncheon took the train from the neighboring station ofPozsony Ivanka. I was received with the most extravagant cordiality bythe Hunyadis on account of services which I had been able to render tomembers of their family in the course of my work at the Embassy inParis. 

The Hunyadi castle was really as fine or finer than some of thesmaller ones which I visited along the Loire last spring, and it wasthe more impressive because it was "alive"--inhabited--and furnishedwith the most magnificent appointments. The stair-hall particularlyrecalled some of those splendid old French ones, being in the samesort of yellow Caen stone. 

While we were waiting for a train today, Count Apponyi informed mequite seriously that Hungary was not the least feudal, either intheory or practice. 

The Hungarians harbor no animosity against Britain and France andreally deserve the chivalrous friendship of these two nations. Theyare the only people in the present conflict who, in the heat andexcitement of war, have on all occasions behaved like good sportsmen. When trains of Russian prisoners arrive at Hungarian stations, thepeople manifest no hostility, but greet them with kindness andsympathy and offer them food and flowers. The populace has notmolested alien enemies, and their government has not indulged inwholesale internments of enemies' subjects. In Hungary I found Britishhorse trainers, English tutors, and French governesses goingtranquilly about their peaceful occupations. English tailorsadvertised their business in the Hungarian newspapers, and theirclients went to them as readily as they would have gone in peacetime. French chefs and servants were, as a matter of course, retainedin the employ of noble families, and were treated with unvaryingconsideration and sympathy by their Hungarian fellow-servants. Thisattitude has been steadfastly maintained in spite of the wholesaleimprisonment by the Allies of such Hungarian subjects as were leftwithin their territory at the opening of hostilities. Of the nationswhich I have studied Hungary is the only one involved in the presentconflict which has not stooped to reprisal and retaliation. 

It was a curious demonstration of the difference in the nationaltemperament of the Teutonic and Magyar races to mark how diametricallyopposed was the manner in which the two peoples regarded the effortsof the American Embassy in Paris to safeguard their respectivesubjects. As I, during the earlier weeks of the war, had been closelyassociated with these efforts, everyone I met had something to say tome upon the matter. 

[Illustration: EBERHARD--ONE OF COUNT APPONYI'S VILLAGES]

Throughout Germany there was universal complaint and criticism of themethods of treating the German subjects who, at the beginning of thewar, had been interned in France. I was constantly obliged to hearaccounts of how many people had been crowded into one building, how atfirst only straw was provided for bedding, and how scarce and poor wasthe food which was furnished. The censure was primarily for the Frenchnation, but the comments conveyed no sense of obligation to ourEmbassy staff, who had worked so untiringly to alleviate theseconditions, which, moreover, resulted from no mal-intent on the partof the French, but were simply the inevitable consequences of thesudden oncoming of war. Every national resource of the French Republicwas devoted to quick mobilization, upon which the fate of the nationhung, and until that operation had been accomplished, little time orthought could be devoted to alien citizens. 

On entering Hungary I braced myself to endure the same hostileattitude. To my intense surprise I was everywhere welcomed with greatcordiality and received as a sincere friend and protector of theHungarian people who had been interned in France. The great familiesof Hungary sent me invitations to visit them on their estates, theythrew open their most exclusive clubs, offered me opportunities toview the fighting on the Russian front, and treated me like one ofthemselves. Of expressions of appreciation and gratitude there was nolimit, and they greatly over-emphasized my services. Not only were thenobles thus demonstratively grateful, but in nearly every village andtown to which I went I found inhabitants who had returned frominternment in France to relate how helpful Monsieur Wood at theAmerican Embassy had been to them. Often I remembered neither theindividuals nor the incidents they so gratefully dwelt upon, but thegeneral atmosphere of friendliness thus created was like springtimeafter frost. 

In Germany, even after establishing my identity, I have by citizens orGerman Secret Service men been the object of grossly insultingremarks. In Hungary no one even asked what was my personal bias on thepresent war, but everyone remembered only the services which theEmbassy of neutral America had in France rendered to any Hungariansubject who needed assistance. If the other nations of the DualAlliance possessed the generosity and courtesy of the Hungarians, people outside the war would find it easier to be neutral in sentimentas well as in deed. 

CHAPTER XII

A GERMAN PRISON-CAMP

_Vienna, Tuesday, January 12th. _ Last night and today twenty-threelong trains of German regular troops have passed through the Ivankastation on their way east. They were apparently going to the Roumanianfrontier. A train will hold two battalions of infantry, two thousandmen, or a battery of artillery with full equipment. These trainswould, therefore, represent something like thirty thousand men, andmore were all the time coming. My car, in which I was _en route_ fromBudapest to Vienna, stopped at one station just opposite one of thesemilitary trains, which I thus had time to study. It contained abattery of German artillery and was a very long one, consisting offlat cars, freight cars, and one or more passenger coaches for theofficers. The guns of the battery, with all the limbers and caissons, were placed on flat-cars, while some of the freight cars were used forequipment and ammunition and others for the soldiers. The doors ofthese latter were open and were boarded up to a height of eighteeninches to keep floor draughts off the men lying within. The cars werefilled with clean straw, sprigs of which trailed out of the doorways. The soldiers, like all German soldiers that I have seen, were fat, healthy, happy, and cheerful, singing, waving hands and handkerchiefsto the responsive crowds on the platforms, and laughing and joking. They looked for all the world like big puppies hanging out of a boxfilled with straw. They were young men of Germany's best troops andhad that certain bearing of confidence and efficiency which marksveterans. Their faces, albeit smooth and healthy, were not the facesof boys, although some of them were still boys in years. 

The guns and caissons at the first uncritical glance looked like junk, but a second look revealed the error. Their metal work was batteredand their paint chipped off, but the wheels and running-gear and thelong gray barrels were clean and spick and span. 

The efficiency, rapidity of fire, and elasticity of cannon have soimproved in the past decade that a battery of four guns now requiresone hundred and eighty men, six or seven officers, and two hundredhorses to manage it. What with mathematical instruments to directfire, instrument wagons, field forges, spare parts, and twelve orsixteen caissons, every horse and man belonging to the battery isnecessary when a stiff action is going on. The guns shoot six thousandyards and the four can between them fire eighty shots a minute. Eachof the shells weighs about eighteen pounds, costs up to twentydollars to manufacture, and is freighted with almost unbelievablepossibilities of death and destruction. When using shrapnel a singlebattery can during any sixty seconds fire thirty-five thousandwell-directed bullets against advancing infantry. A battalionof infantry in charging will average about two hundred yards aminute--and during that minute a single battery can fire againstit thirty-five bullets for every man in the battalion. 

The field guns of all nations shoot approximately the same shell, three inches in diameter. These guns are so small and light inappearance that it is difficult to realize their power until one hasseen its effects. Their barrels are perhaps six feet long and fromfive to seven inches in exterior diameter. A light but verycomplicated running-gear supports them. This rests upon twowagon-wheels quite ordinary in appearance. The whole is paintedsmoke-gray and looks quite toy-like and harmless. 

 * * * * *

I had lunch with Mr. Penfield today at his official residence and itwas an extremely interesting event. The building is said to be thefinest ambassadorial residence in the world of any nationality. I caneasily believe it. In the very heart of Vienna the house has behind ita garden of some two acres with many fine hothouses. Seven gardenersare required. On the other side, the Embassy faces on a large publicgarden and thus every one of the sixty big windows which the mansionpossesses faces on one garden or the other. The house is adorned withMeissoniers, Van Dykes, Chinese rugs, and other things of a likevalue. The house was shown to me from top to bottom by Mr. Penfield. 

 * * * * *

At present there is great excitement in Vienna over the fall of CountBerchtold, the Prime Minister, announced publicly this morning. 

 * * * * *

I am to leave for Berlin, London, and Paris, and then home as soon aspossible. 

 * * * * *

_Vienna, Friday, January 15th. _ I am doing my best to see Vienna sothoroughly in an architectural and artistic way that I shall not findit necessary to return for purposes of study. 

 * * * * *

At the Jockey Club last night I played bridge with Mr. O'Shaughnessy, Attaché Cardeza, and His Serene Highness, Prince Lichtenstein, thefortunate possessor of the Lichtenstein Galleries in Vienna. I am tovisit his collection on Sunday morning with the Countess Colloredo. 

Captain Briggs is at the front with Colonel Biddle but is expected toreturn soon and I am awaiting his arrival before departing for Berlin. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, January 17th. _ I suppose it is useless to say that all thereports in the Allied press about revolutions, despair, and cholera inAustria-Hungary are absolutely false. 

 * * * * *

_Monday, January 18th. _ I now plan to leave for Berlin on Wednesdayand hope, unless I strike something of very great importance inBelgium, to reach London about January 31st. 

 * * * * *

_Wednesday, January 20th. _ A party of neutral diplomats who last weekwent by train into the country for a picnic were arrested on theirreturn to the railroad station at Vienna, beaten up, and insulted bypolice and soldiers in spite of their identification papers. Theaffair went to such lengths that several of the diplomats came out ofthe fracas with bruised faces and torn clothes. The whole party weredetained for nearly an hour before they were finally set at liberty. Among the distinguished members of the party were: M. Chafford, theSwiss Minister, M. Bekfris, the Swedish Minister, M. Lelerche, theNorwegian Chargé d'Affaires, M. Carpion, the Roumanian Chargéd'Affaires, MM. Guignous and Segesser, Swiss Secretaries. 

Several ladies were with the party, which numbered a dozen in all. Theaffair was started and led by a colonel in the army who resented thefact that the diplomats were conversing in French, a language theywere forced to employ since they were of many different nationalities. The crowd at the railroad station where the "incident" took place wasnot hostile and did nothing except stand by in idle curiosity. Up tothe present time the only action taken by the Austrian Government hasbeen to send regrets, not apologies, to the various diplomats. Thecolonel who was responsible for the assault offered his resignation, which was promptly refused. I know of no such disgraceful incidentever having taken place in France or Great Britain. 

 * * * * *

Captain Briggs returned from the front this morning. 

 * * * * *

_Berlin, Thursday, January 21st. _ I arrived in Berlin last night afteran uneventful journey. I went to the theatre this evening with CharlesRussell. We walked around through the lobby during the intermissionand among other things saw a young man, perhaps nineteen, very blond, with the nicest, simplest, most straightforward face, the face of aquiet, retiring boy, who would grow up into a thinking man. He waswith his mother. He was in civilian clothes, but in his lapel he worethe broad ribbon--black with two white bars--of the Iron Cross. Somewhere, sometime in these recent months, this quiet lad hadperformed coolly some feat of great personal valor. The look ofunsuppressible pride upon his mother's face, as she walked on his arm, was wonderful to behold. 

 * * * * *

_Sunday, January 24th. _ I am to leave early Wednesday morning forLondon or The Hague, I do not yet know which. From either one it isprobable that I shall be sent to Brussels. 

 * * * * *

_Tuesday, January 26th. _ I visited the prison camp at Döberitz today. In a military automobile I was conducted there with much ceremony byCaptain Freiherr von G----, Iron Cross and Red Eagle, of the ImperialGuard. He is on leave convalescing from a wound in the knee which hereceived at Ypres. I was expressly told that I might describe what Isaw and repeat what I heard as many times and as much in detail as Ichose, so that I have no hesitation in giving my impressions withoutreserve, even though it was by courtesy of the German Government thatI made the trip. 

The camp was distant one hour's fast run from Berlin and was situatedon a flat plain which had very little natural or artificial drainage. The cold mud was everywhere from three to four inches deep. On thisplain and closely surrounded by heavy barbed-wire entanglements weresome seventy or eighty rude wooden sheds arranged in four rows with abroad avenue down the center. Here were kept some nine thousandprisoners of war, of whom four thousand were British and four thousandRussian. By careful and repeated pacing I estimated that the shedswere about one hundred by thirty feet. Each one had six unopenablewindows on a side. In each such house were quartered one hundred andtwenty-five men. When certain partitioned areas have been subtractedthis means a space of about six by three feet per man. Each house washeated by one stove and was very hot and stuffy, being, except for thedoor, hermetically sealed. 

None of the prisoners had overcoats, personal belongings, or blankets. They slept on straw ticks measuring approximately seven feet bythirty inches. That they all suffered from lice and other vermin wasperfectly evident. The whole camp was closely surrounded by barbedwire, and the main avenue was commanded by three field-guns placedoutside at one end in a little barbed-wire fort. The whole wasapparently under the charge of a Captain of Landsturm and the guardswere men of the Landsturm. The prisoners looked thin, peaked, unhappyand sickly, and many had boils. They have absolutely nothing todo--they exist. They are fed three times a day--6 A. M. , 12 noon, and 4P. M. For "lunch" and "dinner" and also Sunday breakfast, they receiveabout one pint of a thick soup. I tasted some of this and thought itwas concocted chiefly of barley and potatoes. I was told that therewas meat in it but could find no evidence of any. For breakfast theprisoners receive black bread with a slice of either cheese or sausageand either tea or coffee. The diet is evidently insufficient. I shouldsay that it was calculated with German accuracy to just keep body andsoul together. I was taken through many of the houses and although noactual prohibition to talk was given it was virtually impossible tospeak with the prisoners, as I was always hurriedly rushed along fromone place to another. In order to make a pretence of conversation, oneof the two captains who escorted me would sometimes say to a prisoner, "What nationality are you?" "Scotch, sir. " "What regiment?""Argyle-Highlanders, sir. " "Ah, so!" and we would then hurry alongagain. We were in the camp an hour and a half, and during that time Isucceeded in asking three short well-chosen questions ofintelligent-looking British non-commissioned officers. 

 First question: "Do you get enough to eat?"

 Answer: "My Gawd, no!"

 Second question: "How do present conditions compare with the past?"

 Answer: "Wonderfully improved, sir, in comparison. "

 Third question: "How often do you write home?"

 Answer: "One letter every two months, but they _say_ they are going to improve that. "

 * * * * *

I saw the four o'clock feeding. It reminded me of nothing exceptseeing animals fed at the Zoo. In the kitchen I saw the Britishsoldiers receive their afternoon meal. A line of five great cauldronsof hot soup extended down the room, each one being about four feethigh and four feet in diameter. The prisoners entered through avestibule at one end of the building, where they passed between twoGerman sentinels to whom each delivered up a metal check before beingallowed to pass inside. There is a roll-call in the sheds before everymeal and each man is then handed a check which later entitles him toreceive his ration. Each prisoner possesses and keeps constantly withhim one iron bowl and one large spoon. When they are permitted toenter the kitchen the prisoners rush to whatever cauldron is leastbusy. There a cook, armed with a long-handled measure holding about apint, ladles out one measureful of soup into each man's bowl and thisconstitutes the entire repast. The Captain of Landsturm in explainingto me about the metal checks said indignantly, "Why, if we did nothave this system of checks, they would all come back three and fourtimes!" by which remark he showed the typical German lack of anythingapproaching tact or diplomacy. 

There were some British sailors and numerous marines among theprisoners. These, according to the Germans, came from Antwerp. Theyhad reached that city just as the Germans entered and had beencaptured without ever having left their train. They were sent on inthe same train to German prisons and their total war experienceconsisted in one continued non-change journey from Ostend to theDöberitz prison-camp. The Germans said that there was at times illfeeling between English and Russians. 

The method of punishment in the camp was called "tying up" for one ortwo hours. I was unable to get details but gathered that thisconsisted in suspension by some part of the hands. This, however, mayhave been a wrong conclusion. I was told that the men received lettersfrom home, about fifty a day arriving at the camp, and are alsoallowed to receive money. Yesterday was a record day, a big mailarriving with some 7000 marks. They may spend the money at the campstore, which I examined; tobacco, sausages, and insecticide seemed tobe the chief articles in stock. 

A bath-house has recently been provided in which it is possible totake cold showers. The English shave with potato knives borrowed fromthe kitchen. The men wash in the open, apparently in the same bowlsfrom which they eat. Water is very sparingly served out to them. 

The two German officers who acted as my guides tried to impress uponme that the camp was a model one and that everything was done for theprisoners which they had a right to expect. It seemed to me very muchless desirable than the prison for French soldiers which I hadpreviously inspected at Zossen. Some specific things which the Frenchpossessed and the British lacked were overcoats, bunks, ample food, work, recreation, blankets, and the opportunity for exercise, and itshould be remembered in extenuation of German prison camps ingeneral--if extenuation is deemed necessary--that besides internedcivilians, Germany has now nearly seven hundred thousand prisoners ofwar to house and feed. 

_February 14th. _ After brief visits to Holland, France, and England Ilast night boarded the steamship Lusitania at Liverpool and sailed forthat land of skyscrapers, electric signs, and telephones--the landwhich has been called "opulent, aggressive, and unprepared. "

CONCLUSION

It would be a sin of omission for me to neglect to sound again thatoft-repeated warning against the dangers of military unpreparedness, which has been so vainly sounded since the birth of our nation byevery American, great or small, who has known or seen anything ofactual war conditions. 

Is it idle to hope that the warnings to be deduced from the currenthistories of other nations will be heeded by a nation which has everdisregarded the lessons of its own history?

APPENDIX

MISCELLANEOUS MILITARY OBSERVATIONS MADE BY THE AUTHOR DURING THESEVEN MONTHS RECORDED IN THIS BOOK

The best maps with which to follow and study the war in France, Flanders, and Belgium are those of the French Automobile Club, called"Cartes Routières pour Automobiles, " published by A. Taride, 18Boulevard Saint-Denis, Paris. The war has been largely fought anddirected by the use of these maps, which are on the scale prescribedby the French General Staff--about three and one-half miles to theinch. They show every road and lane, every town and village in France. The war areas are contained in numbers 1, ibis, 2, 3, 6, and 7. Thosemost referred to in this book are 3 and 7. 

CASUALTIES

The total losses of the various belligerents in killed, wounded, andcaptured for the first six months of the war, from August 1st toFebruary 1st, are as follows:

 British 140, 000 French 1, 450, 000 Russians 2, 050, 000 Austro-Hungarians 950, 000 Germans 1, 500, 000

 * * * * *

The approximate ratio of deaths to total casualties is as follows:

 German, 2 deaths to 9 casualties. French, 2 deaths to 7 casualties. 

(The large proportion of French deaths was due:

First, to the fact that in the early part of the war most actions wereGerman victories, and the Germans could not care for French wounded aswell as they did for their own;

Secondly to lack of sanitary skill on the part of the French in takingcare of their wounded. )

 Austrian, 2 deaths to 7 casualties. British, 2 deaths to 11 casualties. 

(The low rate of mortality among the British is due to the greatnumber of motor ambulances which they possess, to the smallness oftheir army, to the efficiency with which they care for their wounded, and to the short distance which separates their forces from their homecountry. )

 * * * * *

The numbers of prisoners held on February 1st:

 IN GERMANY: British 18, 000 Belgian 39, 000 Russian 350, 000 French 245, 000

 IN AUSTRIA: Russian 250, 000

 IN ENGLAND: German 15, 000

 IN FRANCE: German, approximately 50, 000

MEDICAL CORPS

The battle practice in the French army in handling wounded is asfollows:

When a man is wounded he is carried to a dressing station in somepartly protected neighborhood within the battle area. He is generallytaken there by the stretcher-bearers attached to his company. Afterfield dressing, he is removed to a field hospital one to three milestoward the rear. The means of transportation are varied, and made tosuit the particular battle conditions, the principal means beingstretcher-bearers, motor ambulances, and horse ambulances. In case ofheavy casualties, all the men who can possibly stagger are obliged togo to the rear by themselves and are sent in small parties so thatthey may assist one another _en route_. 

The field hospitals are nearly always established in village churcheswith overflow into neighboring houses in case of heavy casualties. Allthe furniture is removed from the church and the floor is coveredthick with straw, upon which the wounded are laid out in long rows. The altar is made the pharmacist's headquarters, the vestry isconverted into an operating room, and a Red Cross flag is hung fromthe tower or steeple. These field hospitals are generally well withinthe zone of artillery fire, and are frequently struck by shells. 

The men are evacuated from the field hospital to a base hospital inmotor ambulances or by a combination of motor ambulances and railwaytrains. Theoretically, this should be done within a day or two withall cases except the very gravest. In practice, the men frequently liein field hospitals for weeks before the opportunity of evacuation isfound. The base hospitals are in cities or large towns, and serve asclearing-houses. They are well out of the military zone, being fromfive to fifteen miles behind the zone of artillery fire. I will give adefinite example. In October, I saw the front at Albert. There weredressing stations just behind the battle-line. There was a fieldhospital at Hénencourt. From Hénencourt the wounded were evacuatedupon Amiens, which contained the base hospitals for a front extendingfrom a point north of Sus St. Léger to the neighborhood of Guerbigny. Here the railway station had been converted into a receiving center towhich all the wounded were brought for examination and classification. Those who could bear travel were immediately placed upon trains andshipped to the south of France. There were four other hospitals inAmiens, and all cases considered too grave for transportation to thesouth were sent to one of these. They were divided and classified sothat cases of a kind were grouped together, each hospital and thevarious floors of each hospital having a different class of patient. Some of the classifications were: head cases, amputation cases, gangrene cases, cases in which the patient could not refrain fromscreaming, either because of delirium or for other reasons. It is onleaving the base hospital that wounded are first classified as tonationality. 

For the railway transportation of the wounded, luggage vans are used. I estimate the interior length of a French luggage-van or freight-carto be about twenty-five feet, the doors being placed, as in America, in the middle of each side. Wooden racks are built to the right andleft of the door in the ends of the car. These racks are arranged tohold two layers of three stretchers each, so that each end of thefreight car contains six lying cases. The men who are able to sit orstand and the orderlies in charge are placed in the aisle between thedoors, a space about six feet wide between the stretcher handles. Ontheir way to the south of France these trains stop about everytwenty-four hours, the first stop being Aubervilliers, a station sometwo miles outside the gates of Paris. Here a large storage warehousehas been converted into a hospital. Food and water are distributed tothe train on its arrival, the dead taken out, and the delirious orvery grave cases are removed to the Paris hospitals. The others areallowed twelve hours' rest before continuing on the next stage oftheir journey. 

The trains are usually made up of from 30 to 50 vans, and each traincarries from 500 to 800 wounded. No particular effort seems to be madeto isolate gangrene cases from the others, and the wounded invariablyremain in the uniforms in which they fought until they reach the homehospital in the south of France. Their dressings, until they reachthese home hospitals, are superficial ones. I have seen numerous caseswith grave wounds, such as shattered thighs, which have remained inthis condition for four and five weeks before finally being undressedand washed at the home hospital. 

The whole system of handling the wounded seems to be theoreticallywell conceived. In practice among the French it worked thus poorlyduring the early months of the war. The wounded suffered from lack offood, water, attention, and bathing, and the resulting number ofmortalities and amputations was exceedingly high. The effect on themorale of those who recovered is very serious, and is in singularcontrast to the eagerness to return to the front often shown byBritish and German convalescents. The care given to the wounded bythese two nations is very excellent indeed. 

The same stretcher is used throughout the French army, and itsuniversal use is compulsory on all organizations, whether volunteer orregular. It is not unusual for a grave case to be picked up on thebattlefield and placed upon a stretcher and to travel on it all theway to the south of France without once being removed. The companystretcher-bearers turn him over to the dressing station with thestretcher upon which they have borne him. Since these stretchers areidentical in size and construction they fit all ambulances and allrailway equipments. They may be said to be current, like money, andwhenever one organization turns over a grave case to the succeedingorganization, the stretcher goes with the case, and an empty one isreceived in return. The number at any one point is thus maintained ata constant figure, and there is a general tendency for battered andinfected stretchers to gravitate toward the south of France, and fornew stretchers to gravitate toward the front. 

 * * * * *

There has been much typhoid in the armies in France, and it is on theincrease. The wounded men develop it more often than any other class. Inoculation against typhoid is theoretically compulsory in the Frencharmy. I have no personal knowledge as to the thoroughness oreffectiveness of inoculation in practice. 

Lockjaw seems to develop late. Most of the cases occur after the menhave reached the south of France. The new French anti-lockjawinoculation of Doctor Doyen has produced most remarkable results. Ihave heard, on reliable authority, that with it 80% of the casestreated make a complete recovery. Three of my personal friends havehad lockjaw and recovered. This is, in part, due to the fact that inall the hospitals the diagnosis is quick and sure, and the serumalways in stock. The injection is made into the spinal cord at thesmall of the back. The patient is kept on his back on a slightlysloping table, his feet being at the higher end, while his head isallowed to hang unsupported over the end of the table. 

A considerable proportion of the French and British troops in France, the Russian, Austrian, and Hungarian troops in the eastern fields, andthe prisoners in Germany suffer from lice. Fleas seem to be acomparative rarity in the zones of operation. 

 * * * * *

The physique and condition of the French troops have greatly improvedsince the beginning of the war. War conditions seem to have caused amarked change. Many of the men have gained twenty and even thirtypounds, and the younger men have grown inches in height. 

The French have well-defined regulations in the matter of sanitation, but these rules are not generally well-observed or strictly enforced. In the French trenches, however, where discipline is best, this matteris very well regulated. The Germans are particularly orderly in thisregard. I have never observed that the French mark wells or watersupplies in any manner. 

I have no observations to offer on the subject of cremation of refuse, but have seen several attempts at cremation of bodies in the Frencharmy, all of which were glaring failures. 

AËROPLANES

The German aëroplanes are generally conceded to be the most effectivein the war, and the Germans seem to possess more of them than anyother nation. None of their machines are slow and their fastest onesare faster than any in the other armies. Aëroplanes have beensingularly ineffective in attacking as their shooting is extremelybad. They usually miss their target by at least two hundred yards, and, so far as my personal knowledge goes, the only damage that theyhave ever done has been when they have had a whole city to shoot at. Something like forty bombs were thrown on Paris while I was in thatcity, and although some thirty or forty non-combatants were killed orwounded, a target of any military importance was hit on only oneoccasion, when a bomb was dropped through the roof of the Gare St. Lazare. In the field, the principal targets aimed at by the aëroplanesare supply and ammunition convoys. The method is for the aëroplane tofly above the road and to drop a bomb as it passes over the convoy. Itthen makes a circle and repeats the operation. I know personally ofsome fifty bombs thus dropped, not one of which struck anywhere nearthe target. The effect of the bombs is of small consequence and damageis seldom done except to the people who happen to be standing in theimmediate neighborhood. 

The crater of the bombs thrown by German aëroplanes, when strikingmacadam or similar surfaces, is about fifteen inches in diameter andfour inches deep. I have seen three such craters. The shrapnel bulletsfrom the exploding bombs fly with a killing force to a distance ofabout fifty yards, and at the latter range the lowest bullets fly at aheight of about twelve or fifteen feet. These bombs weigh aboutfourteen pounds. 

Aëroplanes have proved to be almost invulnerable in war. They areextremely difficult to hit, because one must calculate for threedimensions and for the speed of the aëroplane; when hit they seldomsuffer serious damage. I know of a case where first and last nearly200 bullets passed through a machine without its ever being put out ofaction. Indeed, it seems impossible to bring down an aëroplane exceptby a freak shot. The gasoline tank is high and narrow and is protectedby a thin metal plate underneath, while struts and steering wires areusually double. Wounding the aviator does not usually bring down amachine, because he is sitting and is strapped in, and on calm daysneeds to employ only a slight muscular effort to steer. Moreover, there are usually two officers in an aëroplane and the systems ofdouble control enable the aëroplane to return to its base even if oneof them is killed outright. 

Anti-aircraft guns are not greatly feared by aviators, and theyconsider it merely an extraordinary piece of bad luck to be hit byone. The aviators fear most of all the fire of large bodies ofinfantry, and in flying over a regiment at an altitude of 1000 yardsthey realize that they run serious risk of being brought down. 

Rifle bullets are effective against aëroplanes up to a height ofabout 5000 feet. Observers fly just above this altitude, at about 5500feet, since they wish to fly as low as possible and yet be reasonablysafe. Aviators have told me that this height is so well recognizedthat they nearly always encounter other observers in the same plane. 

Aëroplanes, flying at a height of 5500 feet, can observe the movementor presence of large bodies of troops and the flashes of artillery. They cannot observe very much else at that height. They seem to beable to descend suddenly for a short time to a very low altitude whenit is necessary and, in a large percentage of cases, to escape. British aëroplanes have made reconnoissances at an altitude of onlyone hundred yards. 

Aëroplanes have made surprises in war nearly impossible, since inmodern warfare it would be necessary to shift at least a division toproduce any effect, and the movement of such a number of men wouldcertainly be visible to aëroplanes during the daytime. If such amovement were performed at night, the presence of the division in anew spot would almost certainly be detected by the aëroplanes in themorning. The possession of a large and efficient aëroplane corpsreduces the surprises of war very nearly to nil, and proportionatelyincreases the importance of preparedness and of tactics. 

The German aviators (and in fact all German observers, such asinfantry and cavalry patrols) make it a principle to avoid, ifpossible, any combat; this is, of course, interpreted as cowardice bythe Allies, who seem eager for a fight on any terms. There is adistinct reluctance among aviators for engaging in aërial duels. Asone French aviator said to me: "You are both killed and that does noone any good. " This reluctance is fairly universal, except withBritish flyers. 

The German aëroplanes signal their observations by means of a codeexpressed in smoke balls. I never was able to obtain any theory as tohow this code works. This method of communication seems to be veryeffective, as German shells sometimes arrive with singular accuracyand immediateness. It is commonly reported that Germans also signalwith a suspended disc, but I have no personal knowledge of thissystem. The French had no definite means of signaling from the air inthe early months of the war, and I believe this is still the case. They make their observation and return to their base to report, usually taking notes while aloft on maps and in note-books. I have nopersonal knowledge of the British methods. The Austrian system ofsignaling is by means of evolutions of the aëroplanes themselves. Whenthey observe a target they fly over it, and when directly above makea sudden dip. They are observed during their evolutions withinstruments, so that the exact angle and hypothenuse at the moment ofthis dip is known. They then make a circuit and come up from the rearand again fly over the objective. As they reach a point where they cansee the target or objective their artillery opens fire and iscorrected by the graphic evolutions of the aëroplane. If the shellsdrop too far to the left, the aëroplane turns to the right and thedistance in profile that it travels before straightening out is thecorrection. They say, "Shoot short" by dipping and "Shoot farther" byrising. 

I have no knowledge of aëroplanes being used at night, although theysometimes return from daylight operations after night has fallen andmake their landing with the assistance of beacons. It is commonlyreported both by Germans and French that the steel darts used by theFrench aviators are the most effective offensive weapon so far used byaëroplanes. I have no personal knowledge on this subject. I have beenseveral times informed upon reliable authority that the French have noparticular instruments of precision for use in the dropping of bombs. 

At the commencement of hostilities the French aviators feared theirown armies much more than they did the Germans, because the French hadneglected to familiarize their troops with the designs of hostileaircraft. 

It was proved to be nearly impossible to force a fight with yourenemy's aëroplane, even if he is far within your own territory. Ifyour own aëroplanes are on the ground it takes them entirely too longto get to his altitude, and if he wishes to stay in the sameneighborhood he himself keeps going higher as your aëroplanes mounttoward him. There seems to be no difficulty encountered in avoidingaëroplanes already in the air, since they are usually visible at greatdistances. 

Anti-aircraft guns are generally mounted on automobile trucks, and areusually of small calibre. I have never seen any German aëroplanesother than monoplanes; these I have seen on ten or more occasions. 

I saw no aëroplanes which carried other arms than rifles and automaticpistols. 

In practice I have nowhere observed machine-guns mounted onaëroplanes, although they are much advertised and talked about. 

I have frequently heard, upon what I consider reliable authority, thatthe Germans use captive balloons for observations. 

ARTILLERY

I have at all times been tremendously impressed with the dominantimportance in this war of artillery. My personal observations lead meto estimate that the percentage of casualties from artillery woundshas been nearly 50% of the total. 

There are very distinct differences in the methods of the French andGerman field artilleries. The _French field artillery_ is always usedin indirect fire and the positions are usually a long distance behindthe infantry--from fifteen to twenty-five hundred yards. Theemplacements are often in deep wooded valleys. Too close proximity tothe infantry is avoided. 

In contrast to this, the _German field artillery_ is nearly alwaysvery close to the infantry and is frequently in position for directfire. In the most typical German arrangement the infantry trenches areon the front face of a hill along the "military crest" with theartillery two or three hundred yards behind over the natural crest. One often sees German field guns in such a position that it isdifficult to say whether they are in "direct" or "indirect" fire. 

In battles where there are no rapid retreats and rapid advances itseems to be the custom for batteries to be silent for one or two dayswhile the battery commander, by means of observers, aëroplanes, andspies, endeavors to locate an objective. The point to be made is thatthe main forces of artillery do not seem to fire very continuously. Oftentimes in the middle of a very tense battle where heavy forcesare opposed to each other there will be periods of half an hour oreven longer when no firing whatsoever is to be heard. The importanceof observers has become tremendous. On some occasions it seems asthough the main object of an army were to get a single man into alocation from which he can accurately observe the enemy's position, and as if until this is accomplished the whole battle is at astandstill. Both sides try continuously in all sorts of original waysto get information. The German tendency is toward the use of spies, while the French more often employ daring volunteer observers whosacrifice their lives in order successfully to direct fire for evenfive or ten minutes. Aëroplanes are used for the same purpose by allnations, but with less and less success as the war progresses, becausehostile infantry and artillery are better and better hidden. It hasnow become almost impossible for an aëroplane to locate hostileartillery except by the flashes. Battery positions are either placedin forests, or artificial woods are built around them. It is almostaxiomatic that artillery shall give no signs of life while an enemy'saëroplane is above, and as the result of this, one well-recognizedmethod of temporarily silencing an enemy's battery is to keep anaëroplane flying over its neighborhood. Volunteer observers arefrequently disguised and sent forward to hunt for a place from whichthey can observe the hostile trenches of artillery and thus direct andcorrect the fire of their own batteries. Observers who thus volunteerto go forward are virtually always decorated and made officers, if, bysome fortunate chance, they both succeed and survive. The Frenchartillery officers take advantage of every "assist"; for instance, Isaw a case where a shell made a groove on the reverse side of a hilland glanced off. The shell exploded, but its fuse was recovered by theFrench, the setting of the fuse determined, and by means of this andthe direction of the groove made in the hill the German battery waslocated. The French reported that they had destroyed the battery. Oneof their aëroplanes was sent up before firing was begun and laterobserved the battery's efforts to escape. 

The French batteries are usually so far behind the infantry that whenthey have come under heavy artillery fire there is no danger ofcapture. The custom with the French seems to be, in a case like this, for the personnel to run and take cover during the bombardment. I sawthis happen twice, and I learned of numerous other cases. Coverunderground is constructed for all the personnel of the batteries. Oneenters these subterranean quarters through entrances which look verymuch like enlarged woodchuck holes. With no artillery of anynationality did I see any gun entrenchment other than a slight moundof earth coming up to the bottom of the shield. All guns that I haveseen were in a line, except in cases where there was some peculiarrising of terrain. I have several times seen a "group" together in oneline, at intervals of about twenty yards. In practice, the French tendto extend the intervals to about twenty-five yards, while the Germanseither decrease them to about fifteen yards, or have the guns quiteisolated, seventy-five or one hundred yards apart. 

Telephones are the only instruments of which I have observed the usein the immediate neighborhood of French batteries. The batterycommander controls the fire by word of mouth. 

The French 75-mm. Gun is the only field-piece which under practicalfield conditions does not "jump. " This gives a tremendous advantage tothe French artillery in such duels as frequently take place in battleswhere there is rapid movement. I have been on battlefields afteraction had finished and observed positions where two batteries hadshot at each other, both being in "direct fire" position. The Frenchpieces can fire at a rate of twenty-five shots a minute and in suchduels seem to be able to fire accurately with nearly twice therapidity of the Germans. 

The most unpleasant experience that I ever underwent occurred one daywhen I was directly in front of and under a French battery and itsuddenly and unexpectedly fired about forty rounds in thirty secondsover my head. These discharges produced a great psychological effectand were much more disconcerting than any arrival of enemy's shells. 

I have never observed any "short burst, " or shells bursting in guns. Ishould judge that this accident happens very rarely, with the French, at least. 

At the beginning of the war, the French carried shells and shrapnel inabout equal numbers. The shells explode with the time-fuse exactly asdo shrapnel. From several sources I was told that they were loadedwith the new explosive which had been introduced only about threemonths before the beginning of hostilities. As the war progresses theFrench tend to use more and more of these explosive shells, which areused against infantry in the same way as are shrapnel. The onlydifference seems to be that they are made to burst a little lower. Their effect is very terrible. A heavy bursting charge is employed, and although the fragments are small they fly with such force thatthey make fatal wounds and even cut into the wood of rifle stocks. Iobserved the body of one German whose back had been pierced with aboutforty small particles of a shell which had burst close to him. Theseparticles were as evenly spread as the charge of a shotgun. Germanwounded and captured Germans have told me that this French shell-firewas so hellish that no man escaped except by a miracle. The Frenchinfantry have a great affection for their "75, " and their confidenceis always very greatly increased by its presence. Their spiritsimmediately rise when they hear it behind them. The French fieldartillery seem to have no favorite range but readily fire at anyrange. On the one hand a gun is sometimes taken into the trenches, andon the other hand I once observed a battery begin firing at 5300meters and go to 5600 meters. One frequently sees French batteries oftwo and three guns and groups of eight or nine guns, lost guns nothaving been promptly replaced. I once saw a battery of two guns, theother two having been completely destroyed by direct fire the previousweek. The heaviest piece that I saw at the front with the French was a6-in. Howitzer. The Germans use all sizes up to 12-in. In fieldoperations, the latter being of Austrian construction. I have neverdiscovered any conclusive evidence that Germany possesses42-centimeter guns. 

In my observations, when infantry charge infantry in battle movement, the majority of the casualties are caused by artillery. I have severaltimes observed fields of dead infantrymen killed in an advance againstinfantry, where 90% of the dead had been killed by shrapnel. In myexperience the Germans never use anything except shrapnel againstinfantry in the open. Shrapnel wounds are very ugly, being big raggedholes which usually become infected. 

On the battlefields I have observed, very few German shrapnel havefailed to burst in the air. In one field about a half mile square, where shrapnel cases were strewn about [I counted about forty orfifty], I observed only four craters. The French often say that theGerman shrapnel burst too high. 

The German field artillery frequently place their caissons at adistance of two hundred yards behind the guns, there being no limbersor caissons with the guns. The ammunition is brought up by hand, eachman carrying six shells in baskets holding three each. The caissonsare usually in less numbers than the guns, there being two caissonsbehind four guns, or one caisson behind two guns. 

In examining abandoned German ammunition, I have found shells bearingall dates from 1903 to 1914. 

On no occasion have I seen observation ladders used by the Frenchfield artillery. This is probably due to the fact that, in general, their artillery is at so great a distance behind the scene ofoperations. 

Shells bigger than 3-in. When used in field operations seldom do anydamage, but have a tremendous moral effect even on veteran troops. Thedisconcerting effect of heavy shells exploding in the ground is verywidely recognized at the front. The fire of big howitzers is, as arule, very inaccurate. When one of these shells hits a building or apaved street its effect is considerable; when they burst in softground they are not dangerous. Most of the battlefields of France areon muddy fields, in which the 6-in. Shells make a crater about fortyfeet in circumference and five or six feet deep. Their effect ischiefly upward and casualties are so rare as to be considered freaks. Mud is, however, thrown over the whole neighborhood. The bursting ofthe 12-in. Shells is a very impressive sight--I saw two burst. (Myauthority for their caliber was a major of French artillery with whomI was standing at the time. ) They burst at a distance of about 600yards from us, one in an open field and the other in a small Frenchvillage. The concussion was very heavy and even at 600 yards was feltin the feet. In the first case the air was filled with flying mud to aheight of several hundred feet and there was a cloud of greasy blacksmoke about as large as a city block. The resultant crater was aboutone hundred feet in circumference, the ground being particularly soft. The second shell produced the same sensations, made the same sort ofcrater, and destroyed four or five small French brick and stonehouses. 

The largest German howitzers which are in the field were, in mypersonal experience, used only to bombard towns and villages. 

INFANTRY

My observations lead me to think that the most importantqualifications for the infantry soldier are three, viz: to be able todig, to be able to hide, and to be able to shoot. At the beginning ofthe war the French had paid very little attention to any of thesethings. Their men were dressed in a uniform so conspicuous that hidingwas impossible. The only shooting that they had ever done was galleryshooting at a range of about forty yards and they were singularly pooreven at this. Judging by practical results, they had very few theoriesand no practice in the matter of digging trenches. The trenches whichthey made in the early weeks of the war were straight grooves in theground with the earth thrown up in a haphazard manner on either orboth sides. Their early defeats were due to the unexpected invasionthrough Belgium, and to their unpreparedness in the three essentialsmentioned above. 

The German infantry also shoot poorly from an American standpoint, butdo better than the French. Their uniform is the most nearly perfect ofany of the armies in the war, and the Germans are virtually invisibleat short range if they are not moving. Their helmet is easily the bestheadgear in the matter of invisibility. It sets tightly on the head, and owing to its shape virtually never casts a shadow. The Germanshave been from the beginning very accomplished trench diggers and havehad elaborate theories as to the construction of trenches and muchpractice in making them. 

The British are the only troops in the war who shoot with any degreeof excellence. Their shooting does not approach in accuracy that ofour own army, but is so superior to the Germans that a Britishbattalion of 1100 men usually has a firing effect equal to that of aGerman regiment of nearly 3000. On the gray-green backgrounds ofEurope the British khaki is not conspicuous, but at the same time itis certainly visible. The British hat is the most conspicuous headgearin the war, since its rim casts a heavy black shadow, and its flat topshows white in sunlight. The heads of the British in the trenchesstand out very distinctly. 

In my experience the machine-gun is the most effective infantryweapon. Personally, I should interpret this not as praise formachine-guns, but as a criticism of the poor shooting of all theinfantry engaged. The French have comparatively few machine-guns. 

Since November, the French have had troops of all categories on thefiring-line, and I should judge by this that since November, if notearlier, the French have had all their available men in service. Amongmy personal acquaintances in France, I know no man liable for servicewho has not been in the army from that date onward. The men who forphysical reasons were earlier refused are now being quite generallyaccepted as volunteers and are put to office work or similaroccupations. I have seen great numbers of wounded Territorials inFrance, and many Territorial prisoners in the prison camps in Germany. When I visited the prison camp at Zossen (near Berlin) where there aresaid to be 20, 000 French prisoners, a large percentage (perhaps asmuch as 50 per cent. ) of the prisoners I saw were Territorials. 

The Germans have very well-developed and well-organized systems ofrelays for their men at the front. The infantry stay in the trenchesfor about a month at a time and are then given a vacation, usuallybeing sent home to their garrison town. Their cavalry serve ten daysat the front and are then sent a day's march to the rear for aten-days' rest. Their artillerymen get no vacation, their lives beingconsidered easy enough. 

I saw no evidence of any well-organized system of vacations amongeither the French or British and I knew many isolated cases wherepersonal friends of mine, both officers and enlisted men, have been atthe front continuously since the beginning of the war. I am fairlycertain that the British enlisted man has had no vacation since thebeginning of the war, other than relaying near the front. 

I would mention again, in order to emphasize the statement, that allmy observations have led me to believe that the essentials of militarypreparedness are, first of all, a rapid mobilization, without thiseverything else is useless. By "rapid" I mean a mobilization of atleast half a million men or upward in not more than ten days. Afterthis in importance comes the ability to hide, to dig, and to shoot. Tohide is impossible when wearing a uniform as conspicuous as theFrench, which might be called maximum, and has, I should estimate, been the cause of from three to four hundred thousand extracasualties. 

The bayonet has been much used in this war and I have viewedpersonally a number of battlefields on which the action was decidedwith cold steel. It is my impression that European officers havemaintained their faith in the bayonet as a weapon and some of them mayeven have become more than ever convinced of its worth. This is verydistinctly the case with the French and the Austrians. The Germans arethe only people whom I have observed to show any preference forshooting as against cutting when in close action. There is no doubtthat the French commander's idea is to win the ultimate decision withthe bayonet. Europeans in general seem to prefer cutting and stabbingto shooting. For them, "fight" seems to mean stabbing somebody. Theirpsychology is directly opposed to ours, for I think most Americansoldiers prefer shooting to cutting. The Europeans do not seem to havethe taste for shooting, or the ability or wish to shoot well. It isdifficult or even impossible to teach many of them to shoot with anydegree of effectiveness. 

In spite of the degree to which the bayonet has been used in Europeand the number of actions which I have seen won by its use, I amstrongly convinced that the bayonet is not a practical weapon, andthat the only just grounds for its employment are to be found inpsychological reasons. I have not actually seen bayonet combats buthave studied the battlefields soon after the conflicts and have talkedwith troops who had taken part in them, both French wounded and Germanprisoners. I remember particularly the scenes of three bayonet fightson a considerable scale. The first took place near Fère Champenoise onSeptember 8th; the second near Sézanne on September 9th; the thirdnear Lassigny about October 15th. In each case the men had thrown allscience to the wind and fought wildly and savagely hand to hand. Theywere probably less effective than a Philippine boloman. Most of thecasualties had been bayoneted through the neck, face, and skull, themen having lunged savagely for the face just like a boxer who has losthis temper. In the first-mentioned place I saw a Frenchman and aGerman lying side by side, both dead, and each transfixed by theother's bayonet, showing that they had rushed upon each other madlywithout the least thought of science or defense. It would seem to methat an infantryman with a short and handy rifle like our newSpringfield could fill his magazine just before the enemy's chargearrived and "stop" four or five men armed with bayonets or any otheredged weapon. I see no more reason for opposing bayonet with bayonetthan for opposing a bolo with a bolo. The same reasoning would applyto lances and sabers, which are universally carried and certainly havebeen used to some extent. It is an interesting fact that in fightsbetween cavalry patrols, every such affair which came to my personalknowledge had been decided by shooting and by nothing else, althoughthe teaching of the men is to close in and use the lance and saber. The Germans alone when in close action have shown a tendency to domore or less shooting. In the first mentioned of the above fights, theGermans were virtually all killed by bayonet wounds, whereas perhaps50 per cent. Of the French dead whom I examined showed gunshot wounds. 

The French tactical unit is the battalion of 1000 men, divided intofour companies, nominally of 250 men each but with an effective battlestrength of slightly over 200. These companies are commanded by acaptain with four or five lieutenants under him. Two of theselieutenants are regular officers and the other two or three arereserve officers. Each platoon is commanded by a lieutenant and asergeant. An infantry brigade in the French army is made up of sixbattalions. In case of heavy casualties the number of battalions isreduced, the idea being to keep battalions as near normal strength aspossible. Thus if the regiment loses 30 per cent. It is reduced from aregiment of three battalions to a regiment of two battalions, and ifit loses 60 or 70 per cent. It is reduced to a regiment of onebattalion. 

The French, German, Russian, Austrian, and Hungarian infantry are allarmed with long, heavy, and ill-balanced rifles carrying detachablebayonets. These rifles are very poorly sighted in comparison with ournew Springfield. It would be very difficult or impossible to do goodshooting with them, as measured from an American standpoint. In mypersonal experience there have been numberless cases where dispatchbearers, automobiles, scouts, pickets, and patrols were exposed atvery short range to the fire of bodies of French or German troopswithout any casualties whatsoever occurring. 

The one idea of the German infantry seems to be to shoot as much andas rapidly as possible. I have several times observed where Germaninfantry have taken up a position in the open, and fired 120 rounds aman, more or less, as a matter of course. 

I have nowhere observed the use of any semi-automatic rifles, nor ofeither silencers or special sights for sharpshooters. 

TRENCHES AND CONCEALMENT

In October I was in the neighborhood of Lassigny and Roye where heavyfighting was and had been going on. There was a little village calledErches to the northwest of these places. Here were the French advancetrenches. I was in this village during the height of operations andwas told that we were then only 150 or 200 yards from the Germantrenches. Standing behind a house corner in this village of Erches, Icould see nothing unusual in any direction. I could see no signs ofFrench or German activity nor of life of any kind, although the Frenchinfantry trenches extended to our right and left and the Germans weredirectly in front of us. The landscape which spread away in alldirections looked perfectly normal and unbroken except for a few shellcraters. The only manifestations of activity were the distant rumblingof guns, and the shrapnel bursting over our heads. Although I stayedthere for more than an hour, the only Frenchmen I saw were a few whojoined me behind the house; they came from trenches hidden within it, or from an underground trench, the opening of which was behind thehouse. I recount this to accent the concealment of all troops in thiswar. Trenches are made to resemble the landscape in which they areplaced. If they are in a brown mowed field, hay is scattered over allfresh earth, and if they are made in pasture land all the earth iscarefully carried away or is spread out and sodded over. 

CAVALRY

The Austrian cavalry unit is the division, which is accompanied by thehorse artillery in considerable strength. They are not accompanied bycyclists or armored automobiles. 

During the first six months of the war, at least, in the Austrian, Hungarian, British, and French armies no newspaper or warcorrespondents were allowed to view the actual operations on anycondition whatsoever. No press representative saw any battle with theAustrian, Hungarian, British, or French armies, with one singleexception which took place in France, when one day during Septembercertain press representatives managed to see the bombardment along theAisne. I make this statement with the full knowledge that manycorrespondents state they have seen battle actions. I have been ableto investigate such statements on numerous occasions, and invariablyfound them to be fabrications, usually without even a foundation oftruth. Reporters frequently left the intrenched camp at Paris, werearrested before traveling any great distance, and confined for daysand weeks. They then returned to the city and told hair-raisingstories of their experiences at the front. 

The only war news published in France, England, Austria, and Hungary, is that of the official _communiqués_, which usually suppress allessentials, minimize or omit all reverses, and convert all drawnactions or slight gains into victories. 

The Austrian and Hungarian horse artillery were in such close relationwith the cavalry that their support was very good. In fact, theartillery get into position as quickly as the cavalry. The chieffunction which cavalry have performed successfully in this war hasbeen that of reconnoissance. The French and German armies useaëroplanes and cavalry patrols as their principal means ofreconnoissance; the latter scout in parties of from six to fifteen mencommanded by an officer. The British do the same work with twomotor-cycle riders. The transmission of dispatches by cavalry hasbecome virtually nil in France because of the extensive use for thispurpose of telephones, automobiles, and motor-cycles. It is verydoubtful, however, if automobiles and motor-cycles could successfullybe used for dispatch-bearing and reconnoissance in any country exceptFrance. On the Russian frontier the poorness and scarcity of roadsmake the use of automobiles difficult and the use of wheels andmotor-cycles impossible. It would, therefore, seem that forreconnoissance and dispatch-bearing, cavalry will usually be the meansemployed. 

Cavalry have to a certain extent been used as reserves. They were thusfirst used by the British. In recent months I have often seen largeFrench cavalry reserves. At such times they are, in effect, mountedinfantry, so that reinforcements may be transferred a greater distancein a shorter time. My personal observations have led me to believethat aside from their uses in reconnoissance, the principal value ofcavalry is as mounted infantry held in reserve. When fighting, cavalrymust dismount. Early in the war there were occasions when cavalryfought while mounted, and whether against artillery, infantry, orother cavalry, the chief result was the killing of nearly all thehorses. 

In the Austrian, Hungarian, and French armies many cavalry regimentshave been converted into infantry. I do not think that this is chieflydue to lack of horses but to the fact that the opportunity forfighting while mounted no longer exists. 

ENGINEERING

The only work which I observed to be done entirely and solely byengineers was the construction of bridges, of which they have had tobuild a great number. I was impressed by the fact that many of thesebridges were quite original in conception. They are nearly alwaysintelligent makeshifts which might truly be called inventions. 

At Pont-Ste. -Maxence, a bridge capable of supporting the heaviesttraffic was constructed in a few hours. Big canal boats which werelying idle in the neighborhood were requisitioned and anchored side byside, touching each other. Their decks were made flush, each with theother, by the shifting of ballast, and when this had been accomplisheda roadway was laid across them. This bridge was so satisfactory thatit has not yet been replaced by a permanent structure. Road buildingwas largely carried on among the French by infantry, and it was myexperience that trench building was exclusively done by the infantryas it was found necessary. The positions and traces of trenches werelaid out by infantry officers. This latter conclusion is, however, based on three or four observations only. 

SUPPLIES

In the French army the reserve small arms ammunition is kept behindthe battle-line just out of reach of shell-fire. There are ammunitiontrain regiments just as there are infantry or cavalry regiments. Eachsuch regiment is composed of eighty odd ammunition wagons and someforage wagons. Two regiments generally move together, thus forming anammunition brigade. These wagons are parked parallel to the line ofbattle. Supply columns are always parked vertically to the line ofbattle. In the Battle of the Marne I observed an ammunition brigadeabout every twenty kilometers. Thus on September 11th, there werebrigades at Rebais (7th and 10th Regiments), at Montmirail (17th and29th), and at Champaubert. The supplies, chiefly beef and bread, arebrought up from the rear and advance directly toward the battle-linein long horse-drawn wagon trains, or in Paris auto-busses. When nearthe front, small numbers of wagons go up as far as they dare andsupplies are distributed directly to the troops, often while they areunder long-range shell-fire. 

MOTOR TRANSPORT

In the matter of motor transport, the practice with the French andBritish has become well defined. The best type of truck is one ofmedium weight, and of the best construction obtainable. It should beemphasized that medium-priced or inexpensive trucks are undesirable. It is very distinctly the opinion of French and British transportofficers that it is better to have too few trucks, all of which arereliable, than to take "any old truck" and have it break down atcritical moments during operation. Inferior trucks break downfrequently, and break down at critical moments with singularregularity. 

In the British army, trucks work in units of about ten, each such unitbeing commanded by an officer who travels in a fast automobile. Protection, when necessary, is temporarily assigned to the unit, nearly always in the shape of armored motor cars. The trucks areheavily manned, having from three to six men per truck. Every man isarmed with a rifle, but no other arms are carried as an integral partof the unit. Such motor transport units are not often captured ordestroyed since they seldom come in touch with anything but theenemy's cavalry which, as a rule, prefers to leave them strictlyalone, as a train of motor trucks has good defensive ability and noneof the vulnerability of horse-drawn wagons. In the rare cases whenactions have taken place, motor trucks have become moving forts, whichcontinue on their way at a rate of twenty or twenty-five miles anhour, while from each one three or four well-protected riflemen keepup a steady fire. 

The type of automobile most desirable for army use has becomewell-defined. The practice in this regard is the same in the French, British, German, Austrian, and Hungarian armies. On a powerfulchassis, with an engine of at least 50-horse-power, is mounted a verylight body, of the "pony tonneau" type, with room for two men in frontand two behind. The equipment consists of a folding top, leather orisinglass wind-shield, powerful head-lights, the noisiest hornobtainable, and racks to carry as much extra gasoline as possible. Inservice these automobiles have big racks full of gasoline-cans carriedon the running boards and at the rear and, in addition, there areoften necklaces of two-gallon cans strung wherever possible. Invirtually all the armies gasoline is served out in small canscontaining about two gallons each, which are easily handled andquickly stored. One or two may be put in any odd space which is nototherwise in use. This method is very effective and is one of the mostimportant developments in military automobile practice. In none of thearmies are cars used which vary greatly from the type above mentioned, except through necessity. In general, heavy cars and runabouts givevery inferior service. It is the general custom for the chauffeur andan orderly to ride on the front seat, and one or two officers behind. The more speed the machine develops the better. It is not uncommon tosee staff officers or generals traveling over the French roads at aspeed of one hundred kilometers an hour. There is quite a well-definedtendency to have as drivers men who are well above the average. In theFrench army these men are usually sergeants or lieutenants; in theAustrian army many of them are lieutenants. 

Corps and army commanders usually have big, heavy limousines, withelectric lighting, which they can, when necessary, use as offices, oras headquarters. 

SIGNAL CORPS

The Germans use telephones very extensively and apparently inconnection with all arms of the service. Their wires are very thinand are similar to small piano wires. I saw no copper wire used bythem. The wire is strung on poles about nine feet high. These polesare very carefully made of wood and are only about an inch indiameter. Every second pole is guyed with a wire and braced with apole. The poles are painted in black and white stripes to make themconspicuous and to prevent people from running over them. The Germanpractice is to lay these wires and abandon them when they are nolonger needed. The British, on the contrary, make it a point of honorto recover all their poles and wire. In the retreat from Mons theirsignal corps had such heavy losses in attempting to do this that theywere seriously hampered by lack of personnel. 

PHYSIQUE

The German soldiers and officers have a physique unapproached by anytroops which I saw, except the Swiss. Their average height and weightis very much above all the others, except the Russians. The Russiansare as large as the Germans but do not approach them in activity andquality. The French, although small and light, are wiry and have verygood stamina, especially in the matter of marching. The Austrians areof medium size, most of them being stockily built. The Hungarians areof medium height, well-knit, possessed of good stamina, and are inevery way physically fitted to be fine soldiers. Their infantry havevery high physical qualities, probably being as effective in modernwarfare as the heavy Germans. 

MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

I found intelligent people in Germany very broad-minded about militarymatters. They were pretty well agreed that General Joffre is the onlygeneral produced so far by the war who would rank in history as agreat captain, and while they maintained that the German officers as aclass were superior to all others, they conceded that the best troopswhich have so far taken part in the war were the British regulars whorepresented England in the early weeks of the war and retreated fromCharleroi through Mons, St. Quentin, and Compiègne to the southeast ofParis. 

On many different occasions I saw Russian prisoners in Germany andAustria-Hungary. They impressed me as being of a low order ofintelligence. They fight well on the defense. When they are put in aposition and told to stay there, they are very difficult to drive backand show the highest order of courage. When they move or advance theybecome less reliable. 

The Hungarians have a very keen fighting instinct and are excellentinfantrymen. 

The Germans have a dogged courage and expose themselves with braveryand enthusiasm in any undertaking. When they are once started, theyare difficult to stop. On an advance, I should say that a 50 per cent. Loss is necessary to make them hesitate, and on the defense I saw atleast one case where they were put out of action to the last manwithout giving ground. 

The French are brave in a more spectacular way. They are betterwinners than the Germans and worse losers. Their temperament leadsthem to push home a success with more enthusiasm than the Germans;whereas, in defeat, they are less reliable. 

The fighting qualities of the British are much higher than those ofany other nation, when, as in the case of the British regulars, theyhave had sufficient training to teach them the technique of war. Theyare calm and usually cheerful under the most adverse circumstances. They do not lose control of themselves either in victory or defeat. The Germans say they fight best of all when they are hopelesslydefeated or surrounded. 

I have seen no body of officers which can compare in quality withthose of our army who are graduates of West Point. However, we havefewer of these than Germany has generals. 

It is just as strongly my opinion that the American infantryman as atype is correspondingly superior. I believe he can undoubtedlyout-shoot, out-think, out-"hike, " and out-game the line soldier of anyother country I have seen. Here again, we have so few of him that, whereas there are more than six hundred well-trained army-corpsengaged in this war, we have less than one. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I have received a letter from Mr. Herrick in which he expresses theopinion that I was too severe on the diplomatic corps for leavingParis when the Germans threatened the city and the French governmentmoved to Bordeaux. He states that it was the duty of the diplomaticcorps to go with the government and that it was according todiplomatic precedent. His own decision to remain in Paris was theresult of a special permission from the United States government, authorizing him to use his own discretion. Under the circumstances hethought it best to remain in Paris, and to be represented at Bordeauxby Mr. Garret, with whom he was able to communicate daily. With Mr. Garret he sent a number of army officers and secretaries. 

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 Abner Daniel _Will N. Harben_ Adventures of Gerard _A. Conan Doyle_ Adventures of a Modest Man _R. W. Chambers_ Adventures of Sherlock Holmes _A. Conan Doyle_ After House, The _Mary Roberts Rinehart_ Ailsa Paige _Robert W. Chambers_ Alternative, The _George Barr McCutcheon_ Alton of Somasco _Harold Bindloss_ Amateur Gentleman, The _Jeffery Farnol_ Andrew The Glad _Maria Thompson Daviess_ Ann Boyd _Will N. Harben_ Annals of Ann, The _Kate T. Sharber_ Anna the Adventuress _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Armchair at the Inn, The _F. Hopkinson Smith_ Ariadne of Allan Water _Sidney McCall_ At the Age of Eve _Kate T. Sharber_ At the Mercy of Tiberius _Augusta Evans Wilson_ Auction Block, The _Rex Beach_ Aunt Jane of Kentucky _Eliza C. Hall_ Awakening of Helena Ritchie _Margaret Deland_

 Bambi _Marjorie Benton Cooke_ Bandbox, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Barbara of the Snows _Harry Irving Green_ Bar 20 _Clarence E. Mulford_ Bar 20 Days _Clarence E. Mulford_ Barrier, The _Rex Beach_ Beasts of Tarzan, The _Edgar Rice Burroughs_ Beechy _Bettina Von Hutten_ Bella Donna _Robert Hichens_ Beloved Vagabond, The _Wm. J. Locke_ Ben Blair _Will Lillibridge_ Beth Norvell _Randall Parrish_ Betrayal, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Better Man, The _Cyrus Townsend Brady_ Beulah (Ill. Ed) _Augusta J. Evans_ Black Is White _George Barr McCutcheon_ Blaze Derringer _Eugene P. Lyle, Jr. _ Bob Hampton of Placer _Randall Parrish_ Bob, Son of Battle _Alfred Ollivant_ Brass Bowl, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Britton of the Seventh _Cyrus Townsend Brady_ Broad Highway, The _Jeffery Farnol_ Bronze Bell, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Buck Peters, Ranchman _Clarence E. Mulford_ Business of Life, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Butterfly Man, The _George Barr McCutcheon_ By Right of Purchase _Harold Bindloss_

 Cabbages and Kings _O. Henry_ Cab No. 44 _R. F. Foster_ Calling of Dan Matthews, The _Harold Bell Wright_ Cape Cod Stories _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Cap'n Eri _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Cap'n Warren's Wards _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Caravaners _Author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden_ Cardigan _Robert W. Chambers_ Carmen _(Geraldine Farrar Edition)_ Carpet From Bagdad, The _Harold MacGrath_ Cash Intrigue, The _George Randolph Chester_ Castle by the Sea, The _H. B. M. Watson_ Claw, The _Cynthia Stockley_ C. O. D. _Natalie Sumner Lincoln_ Colonial Free Lance, A _Chauncey O. Hotchkiss_ Coming of the Law, The _Chas. A. Seltzer_ Conquest of Canaan, The _Booth Tarkington_ Conspirators, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Counsel for the Defense _Leroy Scott_ Crime Doctor, The _E. W. Hornung_ Cry in the Wilderness, A _Mary E. Waller_ Cynthia of the Minute _Louis Joseph Vance_

 Dark Hollow, The _Anna Katharine Green_ Dave's Daughter _Patience Bevier Cole_ Day of Days, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Day of the Dog, The _George Barr McCutcheon_ Depot Master, The _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Desired Woman, The _Will N. Harben_ Destroying Angel, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Diamond Master, The _Jacques Futrelle_ Dixie Hart _Will N. Harben_

 El Dorado _Baroness Orczy_ Elusive Isabel _Jacques Futrelle_ Empty Pockets _Rupert Hughes_ Enchanted Hat, The _Harold MacGrath_ Eye of Dread, The _Payne Erskine_ Eyes of the World, The _Harold Bell Wright_

 Far Horizon, The _Lucas Malet_ 54-40 or Fight _Emerson Hough_ Fighting Chance, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Financier, The _Theodore Dreiser_ Flamsted Quarries _Mary E. Waller_ Flying Mercury, The _Eleanor M. Ingram_ For a Maiden Brave _Chauncey C. Hotchkiss_ Four Million, The _O. Henry_ Four Pool's Mystery, The _Jean Webster_ Fruitful Vine, The _Robert Hichens_

 Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford _G. R. Chester_ Gilbert Neal _Will N. Harben_ Girl From His Town, The _Marie Van Vorst_ Girl of the Blue Ridge, A _Payne Erskine_ Girl Who Lived in the Woods, The _M. B. Cooke_ Girl Who Won, The _Beth Ellis_ Glory of Clementina, The _Wm. J. Locke_ Glory of the Conquered, The _Susan Glaspell_ God's Country and the Woman _J. O. Curwood_ God's Good Man _Marie Corelli_ Going Some _Rex Beach_ Gold Bag, The _Carolyn Wells_ Golden Web, The _Anthony Partridge_ Gordon Craig _Randall Parrish_ Greyfriars Bobby _Eleanor Atkinson_ Guests of Hercules _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_

 Halcyone _Elinor Glyn_ Happy Island (Sequel to Uncle William) _J. Lee_ Havoc _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Heart of the Desert, The _Honore Willsie_ Heart of the Hills, The _John Fox, Jr. _ Heart of Philura _Florence Morse Kingsley_ Heather-Moon, The _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Her Infinite Variety _Brand Whitlock_ Her Weight in Gold _George Barr McCutcheon_ Herb of Grace _Rosa Nouchette Carey_ Hidden Children, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Highway of Fate, The _Rosa N. Carey_ Homesteaders, The _Kate and Virgil D. Boyles_ Hoosier Volunteer, The _Kate and Virgil D. Boyles_ Hopalong Cassidy _Clarence E. Mulford_ House of Happiness, The _Kate Langley Bosher_ House of the Whispering Pines _A. K. Green_ Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker _S. W. Mitchell, M. D. _ Husbands of Edith, The _George Barr McCutcheon_

 Illustrious Prince, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Imposter, The _John Reed Scott_ In Defiance of the King _Chauncey C. Hotchkiss_ Indifference of Juliet, The _Grace S. Richmond_ Inez (Ill. Ed. ) _Augusta J. Evans_ Infelice _Augusta Evans Wilson_ Initials Only _Anna Katharine Green_ Innocent _Marie Corelli_ Intriguers, The _Harold Bindloss_ Iron Trail, The _Rex Beach_ Iron Woman, The _Margaret Deland_ Ishmael (Ill. ) _Mrs. Southworth_ Island of Regeneration, The _Cyrus Townsend Brady_ Island of the Stairs, The _Cyrus Townsend Brady_

 Japonette _Robert W. Chambers_ Jane Cable _George Barr McCutcheon_ Jeanne of the Marshes _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Jennie Gerhardt _Theodore Dreiser_ Joyful Heatherby _Payne Erskine_ Jude the Obscure _Thomas Hardy_ Judgment House, The _Gilbert Parker_

 Keith of the Border _Randall Parrish_ Kent Knowles: "Quahaug" _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Kingsmead _Bettina Von Hutten_ Knave of Diamonds, The _Ethel M. Dell_

 Ladder of Swords, A _Gilbert Parker_ Lady and the Pirate, The _Emerson Hough_ Lady Betty Across the Water _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Lady Merton, Colonist _Mrs. Humphry Ward_ Land of Long Ago, The _Eliza Calvert Hall_ Last Shot, The _Frederick N. Palmer_ Last Trail, The (new edition) _Zane Grey_ Last Voyage of the Donna Isabel _Randall Parrish_ Laughing Cavalier, The _Baroness Orczy_ Life Mask, The _Author of "To M. L. G. "_ Lighted Way, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Lin McLean _Owen Wister_ Little Brown Jug at Kildare _Meredith Nicholson_ Lone Wolf, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Lonesome Land _B. M. Bower_ Lord Loveland Discovers America _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Lorraine _Robert W. Chambers_ Lost Ambassador _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Lost Road, The _Richard Harding Davis_ Lost World, The _A. Conan Doyle_ Loves of Lady Arabella _Mollie Elliott Seawell_ Loves of Miss Anne, The _S. R. Crockett_ Love Under Fire _Randall Parrish_

 Macaria (Ill. Ed. ) _Augusta J. Evans_ Mademoiselle Celeste _Adele F. Knight_ Maids of Paradise, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Maid of the Forest, The _Randall Parrish_ Maid of the Whispering Hills _Vingie E. Roe_ Mam' Linda _Will N. Harben_ Man Outside, The _Wyndham Martyn_ Marriage _H. G. Wells_ Marriage a la Mode _Mrs. Humphry Ward_ Marriage of Theodora, The _Mollie Elliott Seawell_ Mary Moreland _Marie Van Vorst_ Master Mummer, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Max _Katherine Cecil Thurston_ Maxwell Mystery, The _Carolyn Wells_ Mediator, The _Roy Norton_ Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes _A. Conan Doyle_ Mischief Maker, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Miss Gibbie Gault _Kate Langley Bosher_ Miss Philura's Wedding Gown _F. M. Kingsley_ Miss Selina Lue _Maria Thompson Daviess_ Molly McDonald _Randall Parrish_ Money Moon, The _Jeffery Farnol_ Motor Maid, The _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Moth, The _William Dana Orcutt_ Mountain Girl, The _Payne Erskine_ Mr. Bingle _George Barr McCutcheon_ Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Mr. Pratt _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Mr. Pratt's Patients _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Mrs. Red Pepper _Grace S. Richmond_ My Demon Motor Boat _George Fitch_ My Friend the Chauffeur _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ My Lady Caprice _Jeffrey Farnol_ My Lady of Doubt _Randall Parrish_ My Lady of the North _Randall Parrish_ My Lady of the South _Randall Parrish_ Mystery Tales _Edgar Allan Poe_

 Ne'er-Do-Well, The _Rex Beach_

 Net, The _Rex Beach_ New Clarion, The _Will N. Harben_ Night Riders, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Night Watches _W. W. Jacobs_

 Officer 666 _B. W. Currie and A. McHugh_ Once Upon a Time _Richard Harding Davis_ One Braver Thing _Richard Dehan_ One Way Trail, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Otherwise Phyllis _Meredith Nicholson_ Out of the Primitive _Robert Ames Bennet_

 Pair of Silk Stockings _Cyril Harcourt_ Palace of Darkened Windows _M. H. Bradley_ Pardners _Rex Beach_ Parrot & Co. _Harold MacGrath_ Partners of the Tide _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Passionate Friends, The _H. G. Wells_ Patience of John Moreland, The _Mary Dillon_ Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail _Ralph Connor_ Paul Anthony, Christian _Hiram W. Hayes_ People's Man, A _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Perch of the Devil _Gertrude Atherton_ Peter Ruff _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Phillip Steele _James Oliver Curwood_ Phra the Phoenician _Edwin L. Arnold_ Pidgin Island _Harold MacGrath_ Place of Honeymoons, The _Harold MacGrath_ Plunderer, The _Roy Norton_ Pole Baker _Will N. Harben_ Pool of Flame, The _Louis Joseph Vance_ Polly of the Circus _Margaret Mayo_ Poppy _Cynthia Stockley_ Port of Adventure _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Postmaster, The _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Power and the Glory, The _Grace McGowan Cooke_ Price of Love, The _Arnold Bennett_ Price of the Prairie, The _Margaret Hill McCarter_ Prince of Sinners, A _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Princess Dehra, The _John Reed Scott_ Princess Passes, The _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Princess Virginia, The _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Prisoners of Chance _Randall Parrish_ Purple Parasol, The _George Barr McCutcheon_

 Ranch at the Wolverine, The _B. M. Bower_ Ranching for Sylvia _Harold Bindloss_ Reason Why, The _Elinor Glyn_ Red Cross Girl, The _Richard Harding Davis_ Redemption of Kenneth Galt _Will N. Harben_ Red Lane, The _Holman Day_ Red Mist, The _Randall Parrish_ Red Mouse, The _Wm. Hamilton Osborne_ Red Pepper Burns _Grace S. Richmond_ Red Republic, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Return of Tarzan, The _Edgar Rice Burroughs_ Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The _Anne Warner_ Rim of the Desert, The _Ada Woodruff Anderson_ Rise of Roscoe Paine, The _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Road to Providence _Maria Thompson Daviess_ Robinetta _Kate Douglas Wiggin_ Romance of a Plain Man, The _Ellen Glasgow_ Rocks of Valpré, The _Ethel M. Dell_ Rose in the Ring, The _George Barr McCutcheon_ Rose of the World _Agnes and Egerton Castle_ Rose of Old Harpeth _Maria Thompson Daviess_ Round the Corner in Gay Street _G. S. Richmond_ Routledge Rides Alone _Will L. Comfort_

 St. Elmo (Ill. Ed. ) _Augusta J. Evans_ Salamander, The _Owen Johnson_ Second Violin, The _Grace S. Richmond_ Secret of the Reef _Harold Bindloss_ Secrets of the German War Office _Dr. A. K. Graves_ Seffy _John Luther Long_ Self-Raised (Ill. ) _Mrs. Southworth_ Septimus _William J. Locke_ Set in Silver _C. N. And A. M. Williamson_ Sharrow _Bettina Von Hutten_ Shea of the Irish Brigade _Randall Parrish_ Shepherd of the Hills, The _Harold Bell Wright_ Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Ship's Company _W. W Jacobs_ Silver Horde, The _Rex Beach_ Simon the Jester _William J. Locke_ Siren of the Snows, A _Stanley Shaw_ Sir Richard Calmady _Lucas Malet_ Sixty-First Second, The _Owen Johnson_ Speckled Bird, A _Augusta Evans Wilson_ Slim Princess, The _George Ade_ Spirit in Prison, A _Robert Hichens_ Spirit of the Border, The (new edition) _Zane Grey_ Spoilers, The _Rex Beach_ Still Jim _Honore Willsie_ Stolen Singer, The _Martha Bellinger_ Stooping Lady, The _Maurice Hewlitt_ Story of Marco, The _Eleanor H. Porter_ Strange Disappearance, A _Anna Katharine Green_ Strawberry Acres _Grace S. Richmond_ Strawberry Handkerchief, The _Amelia E. Barr_ Streets of Ascalon, The _Robert W. Chambers_ Sunshine Jane _Anne Warner_ Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop _A. Warner_ Sword of the Old Frontier, A _Randall Parrish_

 Tales of Sherlock Holmes _A. Conan Doyle_ Tarzan of the Apes _Edgar R. Burroughs_ Taste of Apples, The _Jennette Lee_ Tempting of Tavernake, The _E. P. Oppenheim_ Tess of the D'Urbervilles _Thos. Hardy_ That Affair Next Door _Anna Katharine Green_ That Printer of Udell's _Harold Bell Wright_ Their Yesterdays _Harold Bell Wright_ Three Brothers, The _Eden Phillpots_ Throwback, The _Alfred Henry Lewis_ Thurston of Orchard Valley _Harold Bindloss_ Title Market, The _Emily Post_ To M. L. G. ; or, He Who Passed _Anon. _ Torn Sails: A Tale of a Welsh Village _Allen Raine_ Trail of the Axe, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Trail to Yesterday, The _Chas. A. Seltzer_ Treasure of Heaven, The _Marie Corelli_ Trevor Case, The _Natalie Sumner Lincoln_ Truth Dexter _Sidney McCall_ T. Tembarom _Frances Hodgson Burnett_ Turbulent Duchess _Percy J. Brebner_ Twenty-fourth of June, The _Grace S. Richmond_ Twins of Suffering Creek, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Two-Gun Man, The _Chas. A. Seltzer_

 Uncle William _Jennette Lee_ "Unto Caesar" _Baroness Orczy_ Up From Slavery _Booker T. Washington_

 Valiants of Virginia, The _Hallie Erminie Rives_ Valley of Fear, The _Sir A. Conan Doyle_ Vanished Messenger, The _E. Phillips Oppenheim_ Vane of the Timberlands _Harold Bindloss_ Vashti _Augusta Evans Wilson_ Village of Vagabonds, A _F. Berkeley Smith_ Visioning, The _Susan Glaspell_

 Wall of Men, A _Margaret H. McCarter_ Wallingford in His Prime _Geo. Randolph Chester_ Wanted--A Chaperon _Paul Leicester Ford_ Wanted--A Matchmaker _Paul Leicester Ford_ Watchers of the Plains, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Way Home, The _Basil King_ Way of an Eagle, The _E. M. Dell_ Way of a Man, The _Emerson Hough_ Way of the Strong, The _Ridgwell Cullum_ Wayfarers, The _Mary Stewart Cutting_ Weavers, The _Gilbert Parker_ West Wind, The _Cyrus T. Brady_ When Wilderness Was King _Randall Parrish_ Where the Trail Divides _Will Lillibridge_ Where There's a Will _Mary Roberts Rinehart_ White Sister, The _Marion Crawford_ Who Goes There _Robert W. Chambers_ Window at the White Cat _Mary Roberts Rinehart_ Winning of Barbara Worth _Harold Bell Wright_ Winning the Wilderness _Margaret Hill McCarter_ With Juliet in England _Grace S. Richmond_ Witness for the Defense, The _A. E. W. Mason_ Woman in Question, The _John Reed Scott_ Woman Haters, The _Joseph C. Lincoln_ Woman Thou Gavest Me, The _Hall Caine_ Woodcarver of 'Lympus, The _Mary E. Waller_ Woodfire in No. 3, The _F. Hopkinson Smith_ Wooing of Rosamond Fayre _Berta Ruck_ Wrecker, The _Robert Louis Stevenson_

 Yellow Letter, The _William Johnston_ You Never Know Your Luck _Gilbert Parker_ Younger Set, The _Robert W. Chambers_

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Minor changes have been made to corret typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words andintent.