Vanished Halls and Cathedrals of France

by George Wharton Edwards

"In one of my school books, I remember a picture which, when I first saw it, filled me with horror. It represented the Exodus of the Gauls at the approach of the Huns, and was drawn, I think, by Gustav Doré,—the women half naked, dragged away by the savage soldiers; the terrified and crying children; the old men and women hurrying away, some empty-handed, others laden with all manner of objects which at any other time, or under different conditions would have seemed ridiculous, but which coupled with their terror, became pathetic. This picture now was enacted by my unfortunate fellow townspeople in their attempt to escape from the dangers of the bombardment and acts of the invaders. Crowds were running towards the railway depot, not realizing that the cars were already crowded to suffocation with half fainting women and terrified children. Others sat beside the ways, wailing and wringing their hands; here and there sat groups silent, staring as if they had lost their senses!

"The forests outside the town were filled with hiding, terrified women, and here the Uhlans gathered on the morning of the 30th, after the invasion and occupation of Noyon. During this flight from town many women became mothers by the roadside, and lay there helpless until attended to by the German Ambulance Corps. The Germans arrived on the 30th of August. They entered Noyon after having fired three great shells into the city, which met with no response. The silence of death was over the town, save for the howling here and there of an abandoned dog, shut indoors.

"We, the staff at the hospital, gathered about the president of our committee, with clasped hands, vowed solemnly that come what would, we should remain at our post, to do our duty to the end. With us stayed some courageous young women nurses, and several of the attendants.

"Some hours before we had received at the hospital some dozen or so wounded English soldiers from the front. We were in the midst of our work with these, when there came the sound of violent banging on the front door. Two Uhlans burst in past the attendant and entered the court.

"Catching sight of us ranged about the cot of a wounded soldier, these pushed us aside, examined the condition of the wounded men in the room and without saying one word to any of us, hurriedly took their departure.

"From this instant our wounded were prisoners of war, and must resign themselves to all the circumstances of such state. The smallest resistance (of course there could be no resistance whatever on their part, wounded unto death as they were) would be visited upon us all; we would be shot in groups, and the hospital burned. Shortly after this a 'section' (so-called) entered the hospital without any formality, pistols in hand. The officers at once commandeered the autos in the court, and demanded our entire supply of gasolene.

"Behind these advance soldiers, the German troops began to defile past the windows in plain sight. Then came weary men covered with dust and grime of the march, demanding food and drink. Some of these threw themselves upon the cots beside the lesser wounded, and seemed instantly to fall asleep.

"We were soon unable to reply satisfactorily to the questions of the officers. They asked us, Frenchmen, how we found the French; if the English were numerous; if they had burned the bridges. We answered as well as we could, and as briefly as possible without giving them offense. The rooms being full, we placed foot tubs in the court, and attended to them. For the most part they impressed us filled with a great anxiety, even fear...." (Here follow allegations that are untranslatable—ignoble—they are omitted.)

"We saw from the windows regiments of men in gray passing in great disorder, the men covered with dust and grime, and not always keeping step. Great army wagons passed, the drivers of which slept nodding on the seats. Some we saw fall as the wagons lurched. The horses seemed spent, and only kept going because of heavy blows and prods from bayonets.

"This army of invasion resembles more an army in retreat. Imagine the state of affairs in this little city of Noyon, once so happy and peaceful, now resounding with the noise of the great guns of the Germans both day and night—nights of terror!