The same writer gives us some idea of the havoc wrought by the German shells: "The windows, that were the glory of the cathedral, were wrecked. Statues of saints and crusaders and cherubim lay in mangled fragments. The great bells, that for hundreds of years have sounded the Angelus[148] for Rheims, were torn from their oak girders and melted into black masses of silver and copper, without shape and without sound. Never have I looked upon a picture of such wanton and wicked destruction."
Portal of Rheims Cathedral after Bombardment.
Photo, Central News.
In the square in front of the cathedral stands a fine statue of the Maid on horseback. Strange to say, though the square was ploughed up with shells, the figure of the Maid was uninjured; only the horse's legs were chipped and scarred. A French soldier had placed a tricolour in the outstretched hand of the figure. All through those days of terror and destruction the French flag was upheld by the arm of France's ancient deliverer.
On the morning of 28th September the German attack on Rheims was more violent than it had ever been before. From all parts of the Allied line came the same story of desperate attempts to break through, of hand-to-hand fighting, and terrible losses. That same evening the French, pushing forward, drove the Germans from their position. The whole French front moved forward, and, for the time being, Rheims was safe from capture, though big guns still rained shells upon it.
On September 29, 1914, the first batch of Indian troops arrived at Marseilles. As the transports hove to in sight of the gleaming limestone cliffs that flank the port a message from the King was read to them. "I know," wrote his Majesty, "with what readiness my brave and loyal Indian soldiers are prepared to fulfil their sacred trust on the field of battle, shoulder to shoulder with their comrades from all parts of the Empire. Rest assured that you will always be in my thoughts and prayers."
As the vessels approached the quays they were greeted with loud cheers from crowds of townsfolk, most of whom had never seen an Indian soldier before. They marvelled at the dark faces, the turbans, the soldierly bearing, and the fine equipment of our Indian brothers. Later in the day the troops were marched through the city. As our dusky warriors, with their bright eyes and gleaming teeth, swung along the streets, the people shook them by the hand and cheered them again and again. Young girls showered flowers upon them and pinned roses to their tunics and turbans. Perhaps it was the little, sturdy, smiling Gurkhas who aroused the greatest enthusiasm. As they advanced behind their pipers, men, women, and children clambered on to the tables and chairs of the cafés to catch a glimpse of them, and the air rang with shouts of "Vivent les Anglais!"[149] "Vivent les Hindous!"
The men were afterwards marched off to a rest camp, where they remained for a few weeks, preparing for the fiery ordeal that awaited them.
