STORIES OF THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE.
While the British and French were retreating from Belgium to the Seine, they were passing through country which had been untrodden by the foot of the enemy. Now that they were pushing him back on his tracks they saw at every stage the awful destruction which he had wrought. They found country houses burned and looted, smiling gardens and orchards trampled into mud, farms and villages laid waste, humble cottages in ruin. They saw towns riddled with shot and shell, churches and public buildings with broken, tottering walls, and houses stripped of all their valuable contents. From townsfolk and villagers alike, the Allies heard tales of shame and horror, and as they heard them a fierce anger was kindled in their hearts against the cruel and ruthless foe who had done such wicked and senseless deeds.
An officer of the Salvation Army tells us how the pretty town of Senlis fared at the hands of the Huns. When the Germans had been driven out of the town the Salvation Army officers entered it. They found the railway station gone, and scarcely a house along the whole line of march fit for habitation. Yet, in the middle of wrecked and ruined homes, they sometimes came across a house which had been untouched. On such houses was written in chalk, "Spare these people; they are good."
Here is the story of Jean Bauer, keeper of the prison at Senlis. He was an Alsatian, and had been forced to serve in the hated German army. After his time was up he left Alsace for France, and chanced to visit Senlis. The town pleased him, and he remained in it. After a time he was placed in charge of the prison. It was a small lock-up, just a square brick building, with a large garden all round, in which he grew cabbages. He was a kindly man, and the few prisoners who came into his hands did not find their lot very hard.
Then suddenly came the war. One morning Senlis was filled with the blue-coated, red-trousered soldiers of France. An hour or two later they had gone, marching northwards. Some days passed, and they returned, hurrying southwards, weary and worn, with ragged, soiled uniforms, some bleeding and bruised, but none dismayed. Then there was a lull, and breathless townsmen came hurrying to the mayor with the terrible news that the Germans were coming! The mayor and the curé bade the people be calm, and do nothing to resist or hamper the enemy. They listened to his words, and gave up their hidden guns. Soon afterwards sixty thousand Germans marched in, seized the mayor as a hostage, and for two days remained in the town, mingling with the people, playing with the children, and behaving themselves well.
All this time there lay hidden in the attic of a house overlooking the main street six dusky sons of Algeria, soldiers of France, who had been trapped by the coming of the Germans. Their rifles were in their hands, and there was revenge in their hearts. There they lay, waiting for a chance to strike a blow against the enemy.
The chance soon came. The Germans paraded one morning, ready for their southward march. The mayor was released; the word was given, and the blue-gray legions tramped through the streets. As the rear of the long columns passed the Algerians in the garret aimed their rifles and fired. Six loud reports were heard, followed by two shrieks of pain and two heavy thuds on the cobbled road below.
"Halt!" The Germans turn and re-enter the town. The mayor is led out and shot; parties are told off to fire the place; petrol bombs are thrown into the houses; the railway station is destroyed; fierce flames spring up, and the smoke of burning homes rises to heaven. In a mile and a half of streets only three small cottages are spared.
Jean Bauer at the prison sees the flames approaching. He shuts himself in and waits. Nearer and nearer come the roar of the fire and the hoarse shouts of those who are destroying the place. Suddenly, as he begins to think that the prison will be spared, crash!—a bomb bursts through the roof. Bricks and beams fall about him, and a cloud of dust arises. He is pinned beneath the débris, and cannot move. He shouts; no one hears. For a day and a night he lies amidst the ruins. At last his feeble voice is heard, and kindly hands tear away the bricks and beams, and rescue him. A few days' care, and he is well again. But Senlis is a wilderness of desolation. It can never be the same again.
The town of Meaux, on the Marne, was also in German hands for a time. Meaux is a very interesting city, with a cathedral dating from the twelfth century. In 1681 a very celebrated man, named Bossuet,[112] became bishop of Meaux. He was one of the most eloquent men who ever lived, and fully deserved to be called "the golden-mouthed." Not only was he the first of French orators and one of the greatest masters of French prose, but he was brave and fearless as well, and strove earnestly to make men appreciate the littleness of earthly greatness and the greatness of heavenly joy.
When the Germans entered Meaux they found that the bishop was a man after Bossuet's likeness. The mayor and the chief officials had left the city, but the bishop remained. He was entreated to fly, but he replied, "My duty is here. I do not think the enemy will hurt me; but if they do, God's will be done. I cannot leave my cathedral or those of my flock who remain." The brave bishop met the German general, and obtained a promise from him that the invaders would behave well. They did so. Meaux owes its preservation to the good bishop.
The City of Meaux after the German Retreat. Photo, Sport and General.
Another little town which the Germans held until they were driven northward towards the Aisne was Château-Thierry,[113] round which there was much fierce fighting during the Allied advance. Château-Thierry stands on the right bank of the Marne, and, prior to the war, was a bright, cheerful place. Near the bridge is a statue to La Fontaine,[114] the great writer of fables which must be familiar to many of you. Close by the ruined castle, which is reached by a flight of 102 steps, is the house in which he lived. It now contains a library and small museum.
In his book of Fables La Fontaine says:—
"These fables are much more than they appear— The simplest animals are teachers here. The bare dull moral weariness soon brings; The story serves to give it life and wings."
As La Fontaine made animals teachers of wisdom to men, it is very appropriate that the three chief hotels in his native town should be "The Elephant," "The Giraffe," and "The Swan." The latter hotel was battered to pieces by French shells when the Allies crossed the river; but the owner was so proud of his countrymen's prowess in gunnery that he quite forgot to bemoan his loss. When he was showing his house to a stranger after the battle, he said, "See how splendidly true our gunners' aim was!"
During the retreat a body of weary Germans halted for rest in a little town, and noticed that the church clock had stopped. Perhaps you know that signals can be made by moving the hands of a clock in various ways. When the Germans saw that the clock had stopped, they felt sure that somebody was signalling to the French that they were in the town. They therefore sent for the curé, and ordered him to set the clock going again. Along with two choir boys, he ascended the tower and wound up the clock, which immediately began to strike. The suspicious Germans believed that this was another trick, so they arrested the curé and the boys, and told them that they would be shot next morning. The old priest was overwhelmed with grief, for he felt that he would be the means of cutting short two young lives. He suffered agonies of remorse during the night. Early next morning the Allies rushed into the town, and the Germans fled. The curé and the boys waited long for the coming of their gaolers. At last the old priest opened the door of the prison, and stepped out into the sunshine for the purpose of making a last appeal to the Germans to spare the lives of the boys. Imagine his surprise and relief when he saw the familiar blue and red uniforms of French soldiers, and learnt that the Germans had departed for good and all.