There was a shower of rain during the night, but the morning broke clear and bright, and it was daylight long before I was as far beyond the reach of the Huns as I could have wished to be. The country seemed to be very sparsely peopled. The peasantry were early risers, and most of them seemed to be in the fields before five o'clock. The crops were to a great extent cut, and some were in process of cartage in heavy waggons. It was a very hot day.
About ten o'clock I stopped at the door of a farm and made signs that I wanted food and drink. I was afraid to offer German money, though this would probably have been better understood than the tender of an English sovereign. The man took the coin, looked at it, bit it, and rubbed it, and handed it to a group of women and girls—his mother, wife and daughters, I thought. The image of His Majesty King George was evidently taken to be that of the Czar; but the denomination of the coin puzzled the farmer and excited great curiosity amongst the women. However, my wants were understood, and I obtained butter, bread, tea and cheese of a kind I had never previously eaten, and also some excellent honeycomb, but no kind of meat. The farmer wanted me to take back the sovereign, but it was so evidently coveted by his wife that I pressed it upon her until she pocketed it. In return I brought away as much provision as I could carry.
Before midday I thought I had walked about thirty miles, though not in a direct line. By this time I had arrived at a river which I knew must be the Warta. It was not very wide, but the banks where I struck it were deep, and crumbling away; and the stream was unfordable. Not knowing what else to do I turned southwards along its banks towards Sieradz, hoping to reach a village where I might be ferried across; but just as I was about to enter a small hamlet, I was confronted by two policemen. They jabbered at me and I jabbered at them; but if ever "No nonsense" were seen in a human countenance I saw it in that of policeman No. 1. I produced my passports. One of these gave me permission to cross the Russian frontier; but as it was obtained in Germany I would, under the circumstances, have gladly suppressed it. Unfortunately it was folded up with the English-German document, and I was not sharp enough to separate them before No. 1 sighted the document, and demanded it with an impatient gesture. This he could read, but the other puzzled him; not that this circumstance interfered with the promptitude of his action. I saw with half an eye that I had to go somewhere with this Russian policeman: and the "somewhere" proved to be the lock-up in a tiny hamlet the name of which I never learned.
This wretched hole was three-parts under ground, about seven feet long, and scarcely four wide—a den evidently designed for torture: for one could not turn round in it without difficulty; and how to sleep in such a place puzzled me, though I was spared the ordeal of having to do so. For a few hours after I was incarcerated I was fetched out and handed over to the charge of five mounted cossacks, the leader seeming to be a corporal. I was handcuffed to the stirrups of this gentleman and one of his comrades, an arrangement which gave me the option of walking or being dragged along. All the party carried villainous-looking whips in addition to rifles, sabres and lances. But they did not force the pace, and when we had gone about five miles we overtook a light cart, which the corporal stopped, and placed me therein. We then travelled at the rate of eight or nine miles an hour, halting at a roadside inn for drink, which I paid for with another English sovereign. Again the coin excited much curiosity, but the corporal saw that I obtained a fair amount of change in Russian money and I was civilly treated on the whole.
In less than two hours we arrived at the small town of Szadek, though I did not know the name of the place at the time. It is only twenty English miles (twenty-seven versts) from Lodz, and here for the first time since crossing the German frontier I saw Russian troops in force. I did not have the opportunity of seeing the strength of these troops; but Szadek was full of infantry, and we passed a great many tents before entering the town. It was nightfall when we arrived; but I was immediately taken to an hotel and questioned by an officer of General rank. Finding that I could not speak Russian, he tried German, and I said, in the best French I could muster, that I was an Englishman. I am not sufficient master of the polite language of Europe to carry on a conversation in it, so the officer sent for a Russian Major, Polchow, who spoke English fluently, and he acted as interpreter.
My story was listened to with great interest, especially those parts of it which related to the movements and conduct of the German troops and the murder of citizens at Kalisz. I underwent a lengthened cross-examination, and, I suppose, the nature of my communications becoming known, the room was speedily crowded by officers, most of them evidently of high rank. It was after midnight before I was dismissed, having, I could see, made a favourable impression on all those who were present. It was then I learned, to my great relief, that the German accounts of the destruction of London, etc., were falsehoods. "As yet there is no war between Germany and England; but there will be in a few days," said the General.
Speaking through Major Polchow, the General further said, "You have come to Russia for help and protection: you shall have them. What do you wish?" In reply I said that I desired to return to my own country as speedily as possible, but that if the Germans, being near at hand, came up before arrangements could be made for my departure, I should be glad to use a rifle against them.
It was then explained to me that all the inn accommodation in Szadek being taken up I could be offered only a tent lodging, but that every endeavour would be made to render me comfortable. Then Major Polchow offered to look after me, and I accompanied him to a private house where he was billeted.
I much regret that I have forgotten the name of this obliging officer before whom I was examined, which name, a very unpronounceable one, was only casually mentioned, and was forgotten in the excitement of the events which immediately followed.
Polchow was an artillery officer, attached to a South Russian regiment, but afterwards to an East Russian regiment, which lost all its officers—with one or two exceptions at any rate. I was entertained by him most royally.