My Home in the Field of Honor Part 12

"Yes, lost her mind."

"How, when, where?"

"Two days ago, when we left X. (Try as I may, I cannot recall the name of the little Belgian town be mentioned.) She was ill in bed with a fever when the Germans set fire to the place--barely giving us time to hoist her into the cart. Her husband lingered behind to sc.r.a.pe a few belongings together. In spite of our efforts, she would stand up on the cart, and suddenly we heard an explosion and she saw her house burst into flame. She fainted. Outside in the woods we waited an hour, but her husband never came. Perhaps it's just as well, for when she woke up her mind was a blank!"

Ye G.o.ds! I rubbed my eyes. It couldn't be possible that all this was true! I was asleep! It was merely a horrible nightmare. But no--the carts rolled on in the pale moonlight carrying their heavy burdens of human misery.

It was more than I could stand. All thought of sleep had vanished, so I went and woke Madame Guix. We dressed and descended to the kitchen, where with a few smoldering embers, we soon managed to light a good fire. Water was set to boil and in half an hour's time we carried out to the bridge two huge pails of hot coffee, a pail of cold water, and one of wine. No one refused our offerings, and the hearty "G.o.d bless you's" of those kindly souls brought tears to our eyes more than once.

Dawn, Monday, August 31st, found us still at our posts. I rang the farm bell, a.s.sembled my servants, and told them we would abandon all but the most necessary farm work and minister to the wants of the refugees. By eight o'clock they had peeled and prepared vegetables enough to fill two huge copper pots, and the soup was set to boil. And still the long line of heavy vehicles followed one another down the road: moving vans, delivery wagons, huge drays, and even little three-wheeled carts drawn by dogs, rolled on towards the south.

When asked where they were going, most of the people replied, "Straight ahead of us, _a' la grace de Dieu_."

By the morning the heat had grown intolerable and a splendid looking man got down from a cart and came towards me. Might he turn his party into the drive and rest a bit in the shade?

I was only too willing, and gladly offered hot soup and stewed fruit to any who would accept.

Two long heavy drays each drawn by a pair of the handsomest big bay horses with creamy manes that I have ever seen, pulled up in the courtyard. Impromptu seats had been arranged in the wagons and from these climbed down some twenty or thirty old women, children and men, worn out by the fatigue, anxiety, and want of sleep. My heart went out to them, and in a generous moment I was about to offer them my beds so they could get a good rest before starting off again, but on second thought it dawned on me that I must keep them for the army! What a pretty thing it would be if another auto full of wounded suddenly appeared and found all my wards occupied!

I explained my position. They grasped it at once. It was too good of me. They were all well and needed no beds--would I let them sleep in the bay for a few hours?

But better still, I suggested, if the boys would carry a dozen or so extra mattresses I possessed into the harness room, the women might lie there, and the men could take to the hay.

They had food, plenty of it, bought on the way from village dealers who had not yet been seized with panic and shut up shop. So I told them that instead of building individual fires they might cook their noonday meal on my huge range. They might also use my kitchen utensils and china if they would wash up, and thus save unpacking their own. Apparently this was unheard of generosity and I cannot tell you how many times that morning my soul was recommended to the tender protection of the Blessed Virgin.

While the women prepared the meal, George had taken the men to the wash-house, where soap and water worked miracles on their dusty faces; one by one all the members of the group disappeared in that direction and when they gathered around the long table in the refectory, it was altogether a different company to that of an hour before.

As they sat down it came over me that none of us had eaten since the night before, and dropping onto a chair, I suddenly realized that I was tired. Berthe and Nini, however, wanted to know where I would lunch, and were rather startled when I informed them to lay a cloth on the kitchen table and to bring out all the cold meat, cheese, bread, b.u.t.ter and jam in the larder. It would be a stand-up picnic lunch for everyone to-day, and what was more, it was very likely to be picnic dinner; so Julie was ordered to put two chickens to roast and some potatoes to boil--both needed but little attention and would always be ready when we might need them.

The meal pa.s.sed in silence in both rooms, and the "was.h.i.+ng up" was done in no time. Then as they all retired to take their naps, the man who had first asked me if they might turn into the chateau, and who seemed to be the leader of the party, came into the kitchen and, hat in hand, begged a word or so with me.

He had come not only to express the grat.i.tude of his compatriots, but also his astonishment that I should welcome strangers so cordially. I tried to side-track the conversation which was very embarra.s.sing, but he would hear none of it.

"We are not gypsies, you know, Madame." I smiled and told him that that was more than evident. "Look at our horses and our dogs!" And the good fellow proceeded to inform me that he was the keeper of a big estate that belonged to Madame Pyrme (sister of the senator of that name), situated in the little village of Hanzinell, Belgium. He even offered to show his papers, but I shook my head. His open-hearted sincerity and frank countenance were sufficient.

But why had they come away? That was what interested me.

Because their country was invaded and one by one the towns and villages had been bombarded, looted and burned until little or nothing remained.

Because all men under fifty were carried away as hostages or prisoners; because he had seen little children slain, and young girls tortured; because anything was better than falling helpless into the hands of such an enemy.

"Madame, at Charleroi I've seen the blood running in the gutters like rain after a storm and that not a week ago!"

It was impossible not to believe him. His eye was not that of a coward.

He told his story simply; he was almost reticent, and I had even to encourage him at times to make him finish a phrase. Finally I asked him where he intended going, and why so far away. Didn't he think he was safe here?

No--_jamais!_ Yesterday in the night they had heard the cannon growing closer and closer. They knew the sound. The Germans were advancing. It was Paris they wanted and nothing would stop them till they reached their goal.

"Except the French army," I said, with pride.

"G.o.d grant you speak the truth, Madame!" But in the meantime he seemed to consider that one was far safer in the way of some gigantic mowing-machine than on the path of the German army. He had come to tell me the truth and to warn me that I ought to make ready to leave.

"You are helpless here, Madame. Three women, three little girls, and two boys! It's tempting fate."

I couldn't seem to see it his way, however. The papers though very mysterious, had given us no cause for alarm. As yet we had not seen a single trooper. If it were true that the French were retreating we would leave when the army appeared. That would be time enough.

"Why, my good fellow," I said rea.s.suringly, "if the Germans ever reach here Paris is doomed--and the war will be over!"

"Perhaps--"

"Besides, I can't go. I've got a hospital on my hands, though the wounded are lacking. Haven't you seen our Red Cross flag? And if that isn't sufficient, I can prove that I'm an American born. That ought to be protection enough for anyone!"

I must admit that the incredulous smile that rose to his lips rather angered me, and I sought still another excuse.

"Furthermore, one of my little maids is too ill to move, and I don't see us walking off with folded arms, and that's what would happen if I followed your advice, for the only horse the Army has left me is over twenty and so lame that he can't walk two steps. If he could I'd have had to present him for the second inspection at Chateau Thierry on Wednesday."

The poor fellow shook his head at my apparent foolhardiness, but was too polite to argue further. He said that his party would be off in an hour and asked me if I possessed a road-map that he might consult. I gladly showed him the one we had bought with H. the day of our hasty trip from Paris, since then pinned to the wall of the refectory. I noticed that he studied it very carefully, noting all the little sidetracks where he thought his drays could pa.s.s, and thus avoid following in line behind the thousands of other vehicles that enc.u.mbered the main roads.

Again he thanked me for all I had done, caressed my beautiful greyhounds, and left me his card so that we might meet when all was over. Afterwards when I went into the court, I heard someone in the stable with George, and looking in, I saw my friend of a few moments before examining my horse's hoof and telling my boy what would make the sore heal quickly. He was bound to do his best for me!

By five o'clock the stables and grounds were empty, and our friends gone. Hanzinell had joined the column which had slackened a bit during the heat of the day, but had redoubled in volume since the sun had gone behind the hills.

We had a moment's breathing s.p.a.ce, during which we gave our entire attention to Yvonne, who was writhing with agony on her bed next my room. For three days now Madame Guix had administered mild doses of morphine, but that treatment could not continue very long. Water bags, friction and ma.s.sage had proved fruitless against sciatica, so we resolved to try a warm bath, with the result that our patient was almost immediately eased but too weak to support the heat. She fainted in the tub and had to be carried back to bed. We were still working over her when Nini appeared and said I was wanted below. When Yvonne's eyelashes began to flutter, I left Madame Guix and regained the kitchen, now become the head-quarters.

More refugees! Would I let them come in? They were traveling without a map or guide and dared not venture along the roads at night.

Of course they were welcome, and the same hospitalty that had greeted the refugees from Hanzinell was offered to those from Thuilly-the whole village was there!--mayor, curate, smith and baker, all accompanied by different members of their immediate families, driven from home by the cruel invaders. Terrified by the horrors they had witnessed, exhausted by their perilous journey, they were disinclined to talk; and as for myself, I was so busy, preoccupied and thoroughly spent, that curiosity was forgotten. Here were people in need of what comforts I could offer.

I gave and asked no questions.

What was most evident at present was the fact that rations were shorter among this party than among those who had stopped in the morning, and certainly not for the lack of funds. All of them had money--gold a-plenty.

They had found less to buy--_voila tout_. They were glad to accept the vegetable soup, rabbit stew and cooked fruit that we had prepared but insisted on paying for their portions, which of course I refused, much to their dismay, and I am certain the servants were well repaid for their trouble.

And what were their plans? To go as far south as possible. Perhaps they would eventually cross to Morocco or Canada. Why not? The whole village was there--all the men had their trades. They would colonize, for it was useless to think of going "home." They no longer possessed one, and who could tell--the war might last a year or more?

At that a.s.sertion I protested. A year? Never! Why, the finances of the country couldn't stand it, and I went on to state how, when in England during the Agadir crisis three years previous, I had heard competent authorities state that three months was the very limit for the duration of hostilities! That somewhat cheered them--especially as I announced the Russian advance, and on the map we noted the rapid progress of the famous "steam roller," which, if it continued as it had begun, would certainly reach Berlin by Christmas! (I offer these statements without comment.)

Before they retired Madame Guix asked if there were any who felt the slightest ill, for it were better to nip sickness in the bud, and she cheerfully lanced festers and p.r.i.c.ked blisters, bathed, powdered and bandaged the feet of some dozen old and decrepit men and young children unaccustomed to such forced marching and unable to take proper care of themselves for want of time and hot water! At that moment I felt she was heroic and I must say I admired her patience and endurance, for the sights witnessed were anything but agreeable. Poor souls! And they hoped to reach Ma.r.s.eilles on foot.

The Kaiser and his entire army might have ridden over us rough shod and we would have felt nothing, so soundly did we sleep for the first couple of hours after we touched our beds. By two A. M. (September first), however, there was much moving about in the barns and stables, and my dogs, who were restless, began scratching at my door to be released.

Anxious that no one leave without a cup of hot coffee, Madame Guix and I repaired to the kitchen as dawn broke, and an hour later we bade farewell to our "lodgers for a night." I bethought me of my kodak, and as the sun peeped through the clouds I caught a snapshot of my departing guests as they turned the corner of the chateau.

They joined in behind the stream of other carts which we were now accustomed to seeing. In fact, this general exodus no longer astonished us. It seemed as if the panic had spread over the whole of Flanders like a drop of oil on a sheet of paper. To us, who consider ourselves as living in the suburbs of Paris, Belgium is so far away!

I wound off my film and was returning towards the house, when two very distinguished looking girls stepped off their bicycles and asked for directions. I gave them with pleasure and in turn ventured a few questions.

They were from St. Quentin! That startled me. They had been _en route_ two days. They had not seen the Germans, but the town had been officially evacuated. A man on a bicycle had sped by them the day before and announced the bombardment and destruction of their native city! Hard fighting at La Fere.