Cathedral: Senlis
[Original]
This roadway, called formerly the "Rue Neuve de Paris," was the principal artery of the little old city, under the twenty-year-old name of "Rue de la République."
Sung by poets, such as Gérard de Nerval, and Maurice Barrés, M. André Haileys described Senlis as "tortueuse, taciturne et charmante," and dwelt lovingly upon its "mossy terraces," its ancient walls bathed in sunlight, and its grand old tower whose perfect bells sounded over the golden green fields.
In the early summer days of 1914, the Society of Amateurs held their celebration at Senlis, says Baron de Maricourt, "a few months ago, months which seem years now. The ceremony was to celebrate the Victory of Bouvignes. In the St. Rieul Hall, Madame la duchesse de Vendôme sat beside M. Odent, the mayor of the town, who spoke feelingly of ancient France, and of Flanders....
"One month later the Hall was occupied by cavalry; our own cavalry of France.... On the horizon lay the German army....
"Three weeks later M. Odent, the mayor, was killed in the bombardment; the Hall of Saint-Rieul was a hospital; the brother of the princess had become 'Albert le Brave,' the plain of Bouvignes was bathed in blood; Senlis was burning; the inhabitants had fled."
It would appear that Senlis was burned and sacked to inspire Paris with terror, and as an example of the fate that awaited her.
Nearly all the inhabitants fled when the news came that the Germans had crossed the border. A few of the citizens resolved to remain to support the mayor and magistrates in keeping the peace, to patrol the town to prevent looting, and to watch for fires. Some pieces of heavy artillery had been arranged before the Hôtel de Ville and under the towers of the Cathedral, but there was neither ammunition for these nor soldiers in the town to use them. The town was silent, the factories empty, the streets almost deserted. In the town hall, the few faithful ones remained on watch day and night grouped about the mayor. In some of the rooms were refugees from neighboring towns, old men and women with young children who had nowhere else to go. In the hospitals the nuns and nurses cared for the wounded who had been brought to the town in large numbers. There were no soldiers hereabouts. This is the truth (affirms the Baron de Maricourt). The Germans understood and saw a different picture, so they say. They heard the movement of vast bodies of armed men; they saw the "franc tireurs" in the trees firing upon them, they saw cannon protruding from the windows of the towers of the old cathedral.... So the knell of Louvain sounded for Senlis.... So wrote the Baron de Maricourt of Senlis, who remained in the town during the occupation by the Germans, who suffered at their hands all the indignities they could devise; who remained calm and heroic through all the terrors of the bombardment and destruction of his beloved town.
"The first German body of troops which entered the town carried with them a corps of incendiaries in regular formation upon bicycles, armed with tubes of metal containing, as was afterwards ascertained, picric acid, and others a kind of wick of cotton charged with gasoline or petroleum. Some of the men carried hand grenades strung around their waists or over their shoulders, and these they threw into open windows and doorways of designated houses. By midnight the sky was illuminated by fires in every quarter of the town."
It commenced in the faubourg St.-Martin. It is said that the soldiers warned the occupants of houses designated to leave before they set fire to them. "Let us be just to the German soldiers," says M. de Maricourt. "In the evening of the day of occupation, the Archdeacon was brought to the Hôtel du Grand-Cerf, by the concierge Boullay. He was paraded before the officers, but was not mistreated, except that he was compelled to stand, and no one addressed him. Finally he was ordered to return to his quarters, but hardly had he arrived there, before another order came for him to return at once to the Grand-Cerf. Already towards the south end of the town the houses were in flames, and he saw the soldiers carrying lighted torches. He was brought before an officer who spoke French and whose manner was not discourteous:—
"'Monsieur,' said he, 'attend to me,'—and he read from a paper charges that the priest had allowed citizens to fire upon the entering German troops.
"'It is not true,' replied the Archdeacon, 'I was alone in the church, and the keys were in my pocket.'
"The officer read upon the face of the priest the evident sincerity of his words.
"'Poor priest! Poor town!' he said pityingly, 'I believe you, but I must obey orders.'
"'How so?'
"'Because I am ordered to treat Senlis as was Louvain; by to-morrow there will remain not one stone upon another.'
"M. Douvlent pleaded eloquently for his parishioners, whose innocence he vouched for. The officer seemed impressed.
"'You are a Catholic priest, but alas, war is cruel, and orders are not to be ignored. This town merits chastisement.'
"'Take me before the General,' urged the priest, 'I am your prisoner, and I have the right to plead the cause of my innocent parishioners.'
"'No, sir,' retorted the officer frowningly, 'nothing of the sort; do you not realize that you are in great danger?'
"'Danger?' ejaculated the priest, 'I fear no danger, I have made my sacrifice; I have faced it all this morning.'
"'Very well,' said the officer, somewhat more gently, 'but I think it will be best for you to return to your house. If necessary I will call you.'
"A short time after this conversation, I saw the priest, with the few who remained of his household, standing in the Square. I saw them again at about one in the morning; they were still standing in the Square beneath the lamp which shone upon their anxious faces. A dozen or so German soldiers stood about. Two sentries paced up and down, one at each crossing. No one returned to their houses. The curtain had risen upon the drama of Senlis....
"At the end of this day, Thursday, M. Odent (the mayor of Senlis), left the Hôtel de Grand-Cerf accompanied by an officer, and entering a covered automobile was driven rapidly away, followed by five cavalrymen.
"They stopped at a place called 'le Poteari,' situated between Senlis and Chamont; there they found six captives whom the Germans had taken at hazard on the route.
"One of these, named Delacroix, had been arrested in company with two workmen named Quentin and Reck, the latter a mason by trade, at the corner of the Rue de Bordeaux and la République, at the moment when the firing was the hottest in that quarter. Reck had been hit in the jaw and in the arm. The German soldiers entering the town found him bleeding in the road and with the singular, the unexplainable attitude of the German, at one moment cruel to the last degree, at the next of lamblike gentleness, these soldiers conducted the wounded man Reck to the 'prefecture,' where his wounds were tenderly dressed by a German Major!
"Quentin and Delacroix were taken at Chamont with revolvers in their hands, together with a stranger who was visiting the house of his sister, and two others, Benoit Decrens, a domestic servant, and Boullet, a laborer.
"Up to eleven o'clock in the evening these unhappy captives were marched up and down the various streets and alleys of the village by their captors, until at length near the Bon Secours woods in a secluded spot, an officer ordered the mayor and the six captives to lie down on the grass. When this was done, he ordered the mayor, M. Odent, to rise and advance three paces.
"The soldiers presented arms.
"'You are the Mayor Odent?' called out the officer brusquely.
"'Yes.'
"'You have fired on our men?'
"'No.'
"'You have fired on our men,' insisted the ferocious voice, 'you are to be shot!'
"M. Odent handed his papers to Benoit and shook hands with his companions. He then clasped his hands in prayer, after which he stood with eyes calmly fixed upon the officer. The officer raised his hands, motioning to the soldiers.
"They shot the mayor with their revolvers....
"Afterwards, the officer made a little speech to the terrified men.
"'War is as sad for us as it is for you. It is France and your Poincaré that you must blame—they would have it. We Germans do not make war upon civilians, but those who fire upon us will be promptly shot.'
"These men were then used as guides by the officers, during their occupancy of the town. When no longer of use, they disappeared.
"There were others, too; I do not know how many. There was little Gabanel, the son of the butcher, a merry little chap, known throughout the neighborhood, he disappeared with his father's old white horse and the red, two-wheeled wagon. He was never heard of again... and there was the baker's boy Jaudin, whose mutilated body was found in a field at Villers-St. Frambourg.... There was the hunchback Cottreau, aged seventeen, a harmless cripple who was found hanging in the attic of an inn....
"Arthur Rigault, the stone cutter, Elisée Pommier, aged 67 years....
"Jean Barbier, wagon driver....
"Pierre Dewart, chauffeur.
"None of these can ever relate their terrible stories. We shall never know what happened to them."