III. The Eye-Witness Account
Eye-witness account is to true story what realism is to fiction. Exactness is the aim of the narrator. He endeavors to tell precisely what he saw and heard. A great deal of our newspaper "copy" is supposed to be of this type, and likewise much court testimony. The attorneys try to separate distinctly fact from fancy. What a man really must have seen and what he thought he saw are often very different. It appears at first that an unembellished account would be the easiest thing in the world to give, but it takes only a little observation to convince one that few persons can tell what they see or hear; few indeed know what they see or hear. With the bare actuality, they are constantly confounding what they thought or inferred. As a rule, only the man educated to the work can report truthfully.
A unique and curious ancient document of this type is found in a little book that was published by the Spanish Academy of History in 1783, called "El Passo Honroso" or the Passage of Honor. It is a formal eyewitness account prepared on the spot by Delena, one of the authorized scribes of John II, and gives minutely the events of a passage of arms held against all comers in 1434 at the bridge of Orbigo, near the city of Leon, during thirty days, at a moment when the road was thronged with knights going over for a solemn festival to the neighboring shrine of Santiago.[9] Suero de Quiñones, the challenger, was a true gentleman of chivalry, it seems, and had been wearing in sentimental bondage to a noble lady a chain of iron around his neck one day in each week. From his bondage he could be freed only by bringing to her as ransom a minimum number of real spears broken by him and his friends in fair fight. So they stood—ten of them—for thirty days challenging all comers. Delena records sixty-eight opponents; six hundred and twenty-seven encounters; sixty-six broken lances; one dead knight; and many wounded, among whom were Quiñones himself and eight of his fellow-champions. Along with the general narrative is a full account of the religious and chivalric ceremonies as they were actually indulged in from day to day. Such a minute and elaborate and fully authenticated eye-witness record of not fictitious but real "knightly guists and fierce encounters" is manifestly invaluable to a student of chivalry.
It is interesting to think of this dapper young scribe sitting on the side-lines watching the combatants and taking down his notes as the telling rushes were made by either party; and then sending his copy hot from the pen to his royal reader. I suppose we might well call Señor Delena the historical prototype of our modern athletics reporter.
Many of our best literary men have had longer or shorter apprenticeships at getting "copy." Dickens served for a number of years. Facts for a reporter do not come at call; he can not turn them on, so to speak, nor is he permitted to make them up. He must find them. Consequently to be successful he needs to have an ear for news, and an eye for the graphic, a simple but full vocabulary, and a pen made supple by much practice. He must seem to be at home in any department of human action. All his words must carry with them a large tone of veracity. He can hardly afford to make slips even on his minor details, since his brother reporters visit the same scene at the same time.
Literary eye-witness account, however, need not be devoid of all expression of personal feeling. It is only necessary that the writer make clear to his reader which are thoughts and feelings and which are facts. Indeed, the best effect of such a narration will often come from the contrast. The artist lets us into his own state of mind, describes perhaps more or less minutely the stage-setting of his little occurrence—especially if any part is necessary to complete understanding later—portrays in general the types of people who were or might have been concerned, and then drops from his pen one by one the facts cold, clear-cut, unembellished, orderly in sequence, with their participants graphically and cleanly outlined, and thus gains his effect. He is as precise as a lawyer, but he has been also as crafty, in the good sense of the word. He has prepared us to appreciate his facts. If he interprets to us afterwards, he does so in a reflective and an apparently hesitating way that seems to leave us in full possession of our own opinions, which will prove to be in reality only corroborative of his.
It will be good practice for you to attempt to give an eye-witness account of some occurrence. If two or three of your friends were present at the same happening, you may enjoy comparing reports. There will probably be more than one incident to relate; if there is, you must be careful to have sequence and coherence in all that you say. You should anticipate and answer any questions one would naturally ask of an oral reporter. Stop when you have finished. Doubtless you have noticed the unpleasant habit many narrators have of starting over again and repeating all or part of the tale. The temptation does not so readily come to a writer, of course, as to a speaker—unless the writer is paid by the word.
Your readers will not resent interpretation even if it be philosophical, if it be not mixed with the narration and be only honest and of the pragmatic school—interrogative and not dogmatic. Indeed, mankind likes philosophy when it seems to come as an inevitable though tentative summing-up of our almost bewilderingly multiple phenomena.
Story of the Revolution in the Portuguese Capital
Cherbourg, October 8.—On board the Royal Mail Steam Packet liner Asturias, which arrived from Lisbon this morning, were a number of passengers who witnessed the fighting in the Portuguese capital on Wednesday, among them M. Octave Castaigne, a lawyer, of Tournai, who was among the passengers by the Asturias who ventured to land at Lisbon on Wednesday.
"On Tuesday evening," said M. Castaigne, "we were informed by a wireless message that the revolution had broken out in Portugal. From far out at sea was heard the thunder of the cannon and as we entered the Tagus the crackle of rifle fire. On our arrival before Lisbon we noticed that the cruisers Sao Rafael and Adamastor, which were flying the Republican flag, were still firing on the town.
"About ten o'clock the fusillade ceased and a party of five passengers, including two Americans and myself, went ashore. The lower part of the town had the appearance of a city of the dead. The houses were shut and marks of rifle-shots and shells were to be seen everywhere. The centre of the city, on the contrary, was alive with people. The crowd was vociferously acclaiming the Republican flag, which was flying, not only from the public buildings, but from nearly every house. It struck me very clearly that anyone who had had the courage to shout "Long live the King!" would have been shot dead on the spot. The crowd was largely composed of soldiers and sailors under arms, and patrols were also moving about in automobiles to any part of the town that appeared to be greatly menaced by the Royalist troops.
"We reached the City Hall, which was surrounded by a huge crowd, just at the moment when the Republic was being proclaimed. The Republican leaders from the balcony of the building were haranguing the people, whose enthusiasm was indescribable. From time to time the cheers of the crowd were broken by rifle volleys and the reports of cannon.
"When the official ceremony was ended, we succeeded in entering the City Hall. The new Ministers were receiving visitors and were conversing with anyone who presented himself. One of the passengers by the Asturias approached President Braga, and in a short speech congratulated him on the proclamation of the Republic. Dr. Braga replied that he was happy to receive our visit, and added that the Portuguese Republic was definitely established.
"After leaving the City Hall, we proceeded to the most dangerous part of the city, that is to say, the Avenida do Liberdade and the Dom Pedro square. The houses showed signs off cannon shots and the roofs of the majority of them had collapsed. The Avenida do Liberdade was still occupied by the opposing forces. The Republican troops occupied one end of the street, while the Royalists were in possession of the other extremity, being separated by a distance of about five hundred yards. The battle was still in progress. I admit that I was somewhat afraid, and as the shots whistled by I hid myself behind the shelter of a house.
"At the risk of being killed any minute our party succeeded in reaching the Avenida restaurant. That part of the restaurant facing the Avenida do Liberdade was in ruins, and the walls were full of bullet holes. (M. Castaigne has saved some of the bullets as souvenirs.) The Recio railway station had been destroyed by artillery fire and the railway lines had been torn up. The Necessidades Palace shows traces of numerous shells, but it is stated that the interior of the royal residence has suffered even more, shells having simply rained on the roof.
"The Red Cross Society showed admirable devotion during the fighting. I saw its members go into the thick of the fight to pick up the wounded, who on Wednesday were estimated to number over a thousand. The number of killed is considerable, but at the time it was impossible to obtain correct figures."
London, October 9.—The Royal Mail Steam Packet Company's steamer Asturias, which left Lisbon on Thursday, arrived at Southampton yesterday morning, having among her passengers several Englishmen and South Americans who witnessed many of the episodes of the revolution. Among these was General Garcia, who has had experience enough of revolution in South America.
The general told an "Evening News" correspondent that he and six others went into Lisbon on Wednesday. "We found the streets littered with wounded," he said. "A body of troops was being moved from one side of the city to the other, and in the districts through which they passed people were flying panic-stricken, but otherwise everybody was orderly and the city was quiet.
"The Republican flags were on the buildings and all trace of resistance was over. Soldiers were going into shops and houses pulling down pictures of the king, tearing them up and trampling them underfoot. As we passed along, a picture of the King came flying out of a doorway and dropped at our feet. My secretary picked it up. He was immediately surrounded by soldiers, who ordered him to destroy it at once.
"I went to the municipal buildings and there saw members of the provisional government, who allowed me to cable to my own government in Cuba. I should say the estimate of fifty killed and three hundred wounded is not high enough, but the list is remarkably small, all considered. I have seen many revolutions, but none so beautifully carried out as this."
Paris, October 9.—"The abounding joying joy of the people—tempered by admirable self-control—and repeated evidences of careful organization—these were the things which impressed me most."
In these words Mr. Charles H. Sherrill, American Minister to Argentina, told a Herald correspondent at the Hotel Majestic last night, of a visit he paid to Lisbon on Wednesday, a few hours after the overthrow of the Portuguese monarchy. With Mrs. Sherrill and their young son he was a passenger on the Asturia, which touched at Lisbon.
"The shooting began about two o'clock on Tuesday morning," he continued. "It was at six o'clock on Wednesday morning that we came into the harbor. The bombardment of the palace had ceased, but with our glasses we could see the dents which the shells had made in the walls.
"I disembarked at about one o'clock in the afternoon and went to the American Legation to see if it had suffered damage. I found the streets swarming with inhabitants, who were singing and shouting in their joy. Save for this celebration there were few evidences of the conflict in the lower part of the town.
"But it was different in the Avenida, the broad thoroughfare leading to the elevation back of the city. The insurgents had permitted the Royalists to form in Rocio square, in the down town district. The insurgents then took their position on the hills above, holding the Royalists in a trap, hedged in on the other side by the attacking ships in the bay.
"From the elevation at the upper end of the field, guns had been aimed down the Avenida. The avenue had been stripped of trees, windows had been shattered and the fronts of buildings which projected farther than others had been partly demolished. The American Legation escaped even the slightest damage.
"Occasionally I encountered a wall which bore striking evidence of the battle. Blood was matted upon it and blood had coagulated in the gutters, indicating only too plainly that several lives had been lost there. Whole groups in the sidewalk had been mowed down by shell from the field-guns.
"Nearly every man I saw and many boys carried guns. They were not rifles of the 'homespun' variety—these arms—but Mausers and equally effective weapons. These were evidences of preparation. Fully a thousand people were waving flags—the red and green flag of the new Republic—a further proof that the revolution had not come just when it did by accident.
"For the new Portuguese flag is a rather complicated affair. Across a blue circle in the centre is a curved line in white bearing the inscription, 'Patria e Liberdade.' Half the space of the background is red—revolution—and green, symbolizing hope.
"I followed a crowd and a band into the City Hall. There in a large room I saw the President and his cabinet in session, probably drawing up one of the new government's addresses to the people. It was plain to me that these were not men who had been 'pitchforked' into office over night. Their appearance was that of sober, responsible officials. I was simply a curiosity-seeker, of course, and kept my identity concealed.
"As I walked along I heard two shots fired in a side street. A moment later a cart drove by in which lay two bodies. A crowd formed at the scene of the shooting, but there was no suspicion of a riot. Among the thousands of people I saw that day there was not a single person who appeared to be under the influence of liquor. There seemed to be no looting; no outrages were committed. It was a most impressive object-lesson of the self-control which a Latin people is able to maintain when it is imbued with a serious purpose.
"Country folk were pouring into town by the thousands, and these reflected the joy and satisfaction felt by the residents of the city. They afforded a rebuke to the suspicion that the revolutionary feeling was confined to Lisbon itself. The spirit of the people was best expressed by two words, composing a headline which stretched across the front page of an afternoon newspaper. Translated, it read simply: 'At Last!'
"And it was apparent also that the revolution was accomplished with as little bloodshed as possible. The insurgents were merciful—if that term is permissible in this connection. Shells fired from the ships in the bay were directed in such a way that they should explode over the town, carrying the desired warning, but causing the minimum amount of damage.
"I was told that the dead and wounded numbered three thousand. I am certain this was a great exaggeration. My estimate is about 600 or 700, basing these figures on information obtained at the headquarters of the Red Cross Society.
"Most of the residents of Lisbon give the greatest share of credit for the result to the seamen. A hero was made of every sailor who appeared in the streets. The crowds cheered him heartily, but the army officers aroused much less enthusiasm.
"Save for these evidences of jubilation Lisbon was quiet and orderly—think of it, only a few hours after such an uprising as this! The bodies of the dead had been removed, the wounded were being nursed and business was proceeding almost normally. In front of every bank was a guard of sailors to protect the financial interests of the people. It seems strange that I, who have lived in South America two years, was forced to come to Europe in order to see a revolution."
A Contrast
On the night of February 4, 1910, the eve of the carnival, I went to take a walk in the Luneta. Already from the distance I could see the hippodrome in the carnival grounds well illuminated. "What is going on in there?" I asked myself, and not being able to explain the matter, and urged by my curiosity to know everything, I walked in that direction.
Many people, foreigners as well as natives, were crowding up and down the sidewalk near the fence enclosing the carnival grounds. There were also constabulary guards at almost every thirty spaces to prevent the people from peeping through the fence. But in spite of the presence of these guards some people, nevertheless, seized the opportunity that offered now and then while the guard was not looking, and peeped through the fence.
I then saw that I was not the only one who was anxious to know what was going on in the hippodrome, and, what is more, my anxiety grew stronger. Then a moment came when I lost a little self-control, and I, too, shared some of those opportunities that offered. But suddenly there came the guard who warned us to stop the business. At that very moment, an American came along and he, too, could not help wanting to see what was going on inside. But the guard went to him at once and said: "No se permite eso, si tu quieres ver lo que hay adentro, puede Vd. pasar por la puerta central." "Vd. sabi muy bein que eso no verdad, sabi," replied the American angrily. Then the guard told him that he had received orders to see that people did not peep through the fence. "To h—— with your orders!" said the American. "Well, este habla el commanding officer," replied the guard. "Oh, nom porta!" At this moment an American policeman came along and asked the American what was the matter. "This fellow wants to prevent me from peeping through this fence when I am on neutral ground," "Well, that is just what I am going to do," replied the policeman, and he again explained him the order. "I don't care for that order!" "Well, if you don't shut up, I shall take you to the police station!" "You may!" Then the policeman told him to walk on; for he did not know what he was talking about. "All right," said the gentleman, and he walked away; but he came back and asked the policeman what his number was. "It makes no difference what my number is," said the officer of the law. "Well, I want to know it." "My number is——, and my name is——; and what's your name?" "My name is——, and I am the secretary in the public——"(!). "All right," said the policeman, and both men took opposite directions.
Two bystanders who witnessed this incident began to argue as to what would have happened had the American gentleman been a Filipino. One of them said that if the man were a Filipino and had argued with the officer of the law in that way, he would have received a good knock on his head. The other said that he was satisfied with the way the American policeman behaved himself.
I then returned and walked toward the central gate of the carnival grounds, and there, to my surprise, I saw the very same American gentleman come and walk straight inside without saying a word to the guard. Then a Filipino came along and asked the guard to be allowed to go in, but, unfortunately, according to the guard, only the stockholders were allowed to enter.
Was the American gentleman a stockholder? He alone knows.
—Adolfo Scheerer.