PRISON TWO—SENNELAGER
THE BLACK HOLE OF GERMANY
CHAPTER VI
OUR "LUXURIOUS HOTEL"
Although it was 9.25 Tuesday evening when we boarded the train in Wesel station, en route for the "luxurious hotel where we were to receive every kindness consistent with the noblest traditions of German honour," there did not appear to be any anxiety to part with our company. There were about sixty of us all told, and we were shepherded with as pronounced a display of German military pomp and circumstance as would have been manifested if the All-Highest himself, had been travelling. Wesel station swarmed with officers and men who apparently had nothing else to do but to perambulate the platforms, the officers swaggering with typical Teuton arrogance, and the humble soldiers clattering to and fro in utter servility, merely emphasising their existence by making plenty of noise with their cumbrous boots and rifles.
At midnight the train started. The majority of my companions were the male passengers of military age who had been detained from the pleasure steamer Krimhilde while travelling up the Rhine. The military authorities in charge of the train received bulky sheafs of papers, each of which related to one passenger, and was packed with the most minute details. I am afraid my record must have been somewhat imposing, inasmuch as I commanded considerable and unappreciated attention from the military, while my fellow prisoners regarded me with a keen curiosity.
I must admit that my personal appearance was far from being attractive. I looked even more ragged, un-cared for, and ill than I was when facing my accusers at the midnight trial some days before. I was shirtless, collarless, and tie-less. My hair was matted and clotted with congealed blood freely mixed with dirt. My face, in addition to a week's growth of hair, was smeared with black marks which I had not been able to remove owing to my inability to get soap to wash myself with. My frock-coat and trousers, frayed at the bottoms, were sadly soiled and contrasted strangely with the fancy pattern tops of my patent boots. In fact, I admitted to the party, that "I must have looked a 'knut' of the finest type!" All things considered I am not surprised that at first I was shunned by one and all, both compatriots and the military guards.
Although the distance from Wesel to Paderborn—Sennelager is three miles outside the latter town—is only about 95 miles as the crow flies, the railway takes a somewhat circuitous route. Owing to the extensive movement of the troops we suffered considerable delay, the result being that we did not reach our destination until about mid-day on the Wednesday, the journey having occupied nearly twelve hours. The heat was unbearable, and confinement within the carriages, the windows of which were kept sedulously closed by order of the military, thus rendering the atmosphere within stifling, speedily commenced to affect some of the passengers. Each compartment carried seven prisoners, and the eighth seat, one of the windows beside the door, was occupied by a soldier—the guard of the compartment—complete with loaded rifle and fixed bayonet.
Sleep was out of the question, but this did not affect us seriously. We were somewhat excited, and spent the hours of the night in conversation and the exchange of experiences. In our party was an English gentleman, Mr. K——,[3] who held an important position in a large business house in one of the cities on the Rhine. Somehow he was attracted to me, moved, no doubt by my general appearance, and because I was now showing visible signs of my incarceration and experiences in Wesel prison. I may say that to Mr. K—— I undoubtedly owe my life, and I never can express my thanks sufficiently for his unremitting attention and kindness during my subsequent illness, as I narrate in due course. Moreover, during his sojourn among us he was a tower of strength, having long been resident in the country, and thoroughly conversant with the language and manners of the Germans.