I have seen villages pounded by gun-fire into hideous4 mounds5 of dust and rubble6, their very semblance7 blasted utterly8 away; but Arras, shell-torn, scarred, disfigured for all time, is a city still—a City of Desolation. Her streets lie empty and silent, her once pleasant squares are a dreary9 desolation, her noble buildings, monuments of her ancient splendour, are ruined beyond repair. Arras is a dead city, whose mournful silence is broken only by the intermittent10 thunder of the guns.
Thus, as I paced these deserted11 streets where none moved save myself (for my companions had hastened on), as I gazed on ruined buildings that echoed mournfully to my tread, what wonder that my thoughts were gloomy as the day itself? I paused in a street of fair, tall houses, from whose broken windows curtains of lace, of plush, and tapestry12 flapped mournfully in the chill November wind like rags upon a corpse13, while from some dim interior came the hollow rattle14 of a door, and, in every[Pg 74] gust15, a swinging shutter16 groaned17 despairingly on rusty18 hinge.
And as I stood in this narrow street, littered with the brick and masonry19 of desolate20 homes, and listened to these mournful sounds, I wondered vaguely21 what had become of all those for whom this door had been wont22 to open, where now the eyes that had looked down from these windows many and many a time—would they ever behold23 again this quiet, narrow street, would these scarred walls echo again to those same voices and ring with joy of life and familiar laughter?
And now this desolate city became as it were peopled with the souls of these exiles, they flitted ghostlike in the dimness behind flapping curtains, they peered down through closed jalousies—wraiths of the men and women and children who had lived and loved and played here before the curse of the barbarian24 had driven them away.
And, as if to help this illusion, I saw many things that were eloquent25 of these vanished people—glimpses through shattered windows and beyond demolished26 house-fronts; here a table set for dinner, with plates and tarnished27 cutlery on a dingy28 cloth that stirred damp and lazily in the wind, yonder a grand piano, open and with sodden29 music drooping30 from its rest; here again chairs drawn31 cosily32 together.
Wherever I looked were evidences of arrested life, of action suddenly stayed; in one bedroom a trunk open, with a pile of articles beside it in the act of being packed; in another, a great bed, its[Pg 75] sheets and blankets tossed askew33 by hands wild with haste; while in a room lined with bookcases a deep armchair was drawn up to the hearth34, with a small table whereon stood a decanter and a half-emptied glass, and an open book whose damp leaves stirred in the wind, now and then, as if touched by phantom35 fingers. Indeed, more than once I marvelled36 to see how, amid the awful wreckage37 of broken floors and tumbled ceilings, delicate vases and chinaware had miraculously38 escaped destruction. Upon one cracked wall a large mirror reflected the ruin of a massive carved sideboard, while in another house, hard by, a magnificent ivory and ebony crucifix yet hung above an awful twisted thing that had been a brass39 bedstead.
Here and there, on either side this narrow street, ugly gaps showed where houses had once stood, comfortable homes, now only unsightly heaps of rubbish, a confusion of broken beams and rafters, amid which divers40 familiar objects obtruded41 themselves, broken chairs and tables, a grandfather clock, and a shattered piano whose melody was silenced for ever.
Through all these gloomy relics42 of a vanished people I went slow-footed and heedless of direction, until by chance I came out into the wide Place and saw before me all that remained of the stately building which for centuries had been the Hotel de Ville, now nothing but a crumbling43 ruin of noble arch and massive tower; even so, in shattered facade44 and mullioned window one might yet see something of that beauty which had made it famous.
[Pg 76]
Oblivious45 of driving rain I stood bethinking me of this ancient city: how in the dark ages it had endured the horrors of battle and siege, had fronted the catapults of Rome, heard the fierce shouts of barbarian assailants, known the merciless savagery46 of religious wars, and remained a city still only for the cultured barbarian of to-day to make of it a desolation.
Very full of thought I turned away, but, as I crossed the desolate square, I was aroused by a voice that hailed me, seemingly from beneath my feet, a voice that echoed eerily47 in that silent Place. Glancing about I beheld48 a beshawled head that rose above the littered pavement, and, as I stared, the head nodded and, smiling wanly49, accosted50 me again.
Coming thither51 I looked into a square opening with a flight of steps leading down into a subterranean52 chamber53, and, upon these steps a woman sat knitting busily. She enquired54 if I wished to view the catacombs, and pointed55 where a lamp burned above another opening and other steps descended56 lower yet, seemingly into the very bowels57 of the earth. To her I explained that my time was limited and all I wished to see lay above ground, and from her I learned that some few people yet remained in ruined Arras, who, even as she, lived underground, since every day at irregular intervals58 the enemy fired into the town haphazard59. Only that very morning, she told me, another shell had struck the poor Hotel de Ville, and she pointed to a new, white scar upon the shapeless tower. She[Pg 77] also showed me an ugly rent upon a certain wall near by, made by the shell which had killed her husband. Yes, she lived all alone now, she told me, waiting for that good day when the Boches should be driven beyond the Rhine, waiting until the townsfolk should come back and Arras wake to life again: meantime she knitted.
Presently I saluted60 this solitary61 woman, and, turning away, left her amid the desolate ruin of that once busy square, her beshawled head bowed above feverishly62 busy fingers, left her as I had found her—waiting.
And now as I traversed those deserted streets it seemed that this seemingly dead city did but swoon after all, despite its many grievous wounds, for here was life even as the woman had said; evidences of which I saw here and there, in battered stovepipes that had writhed63 themselves snake-like through rusty cellar gratings and holes in wall or pavement, miserable64 contrivances at best, whose fumes65 blackened the walls whereto they clung. Still, nowhere was there sound or sight of folk save in one small back street, where, in a shop that apparently66 sold everything, from pickles67 to picture postcards, two British soldiers were buying a pair of braces68 from a smiling, haggard-eyed woman, and being extremely polite about it in cryptic69 Anglo-French; and here I foregathered with my companions. Our way led us through the railway station, a much-battered ruin, its clock tower half gone, its platforms cracked and splintered, the iron girders of its great, domed70 roof bent71 and[Pg 78] twisted, and with never a sheet of glass anywhere. Between the rusty tracks grass and weeds grew and flourished, and the few waybills and excursion placards which still showed here and there looked unutterably forlorn. In the booking office was a confusion of broken desks, stools and overthrown72 chairs, the floor littered with sodden books and ledgers73, but the racks still held thousands of tickets, bearing so many names they might have taken anyone anywhere throughout fair France once, but now, it seemed, would never take anyone anywhere.
All at once, through the battered swing-doors, marched a company of soldiers, the tramp of their feet and the lilt of their voices filling the place with strange echoes, for, being wet and weary and British, they sang cheerily. Packs a-swing, rifles on shoulder, they tramped through shell-torn waiting-room and booking-hall and out again into wind and wet, and I remember the burden of their chanting was: "Smile! Smile! Smile!"
In a little while I stood amid the ruins of the great cathedral; its mighty74 pillars, chipped and scarred, yet rose high in air, but its long aisles75 were choked with rubble and fallen masonry, while through the gaping76 rents of its lofty roof the rain fell, wetting the shattered heap of particoloured marble that had been the high altar once. Here and there, half buried in the débris at my feet, I saw fragments of memorial tablets, a battered corona77, the twisted remains78 of a great candelabrum, and over and through this mournful ruin a cold[Pg 79] and rising wind moaned fitfully. Silently we clambered back over the mountain of débris and hurried on, heedless of the devastation79 around, heartsick with the gross barbarity of it all.
They tell me that churches and cathedrals must of necessity be destroyed since they generally serve as observation posts. But I have seen many ruined churches—usually beautified by Time and hallowed by tradition—that by reason of site and position could never have been so misused—and then there is the beautiful Chateau80 d'Eau!
Evening was falling, and as the shadows stole upon this silent city, a gloom unrelieved by any homely81 twinkle of light, these dreadful streets, these stricken homes took on an aspect more sinister82 and forbidding in the half-light. Behind those flapping curtains were pits of gloom full of unimagined terrors whence came unearthly sounds, stealthy rustlings, groans83 and sighs and sobbing84 voices. If ghosts did flit behind those crumbling walls, surely they were very sad and woeful ghosts.
"Damn this rain!" murmured K., gently.
"And the wind!" said F., pulling up his collar. "Listen to it! It's going to play the very deuce with these broken roofs and things if it blows hard. Going to be a beastly night, and a forty-mile drive in front of us. Listen to that wind! Come on—let's get away!"
Very soon, buried in warm rugs, we sped across dim squares, past wind-swept ruins, under battered arch, and the dismal85 city was behind us, but, for a while, her ghosts seemed all about us still.
[Pg 80]
As we plunged86 on through the gathering87 dark, past rows of trees that leapt at us and were gone, it seemed to me that the soul of Arras was typified in that patient, solitary woman who sat amid desolate ruin—waiting for the great Day; and surely her patience cannot go unrewarded. For since science has proved that nothing can be utterly destroyed, since I for one am convinced that the soul of man through death is but translated into a fuller and more infinite living, so do I think that one day the woes88 of Arras shall be done away, and she shall rise again, a City greater perhaps and fairer than she was.
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1
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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rubble
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| n.（一堆）碎石，瓦砾 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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barbarian
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| n.野蛮人；adj.野蛮(人)的；未开化的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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30
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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31
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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cosily
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| adv.舒适地，惬意地 | |
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askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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34
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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40
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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41
obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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43
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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44
facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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45
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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46
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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47
eerily
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| adv.引起神秘感或害怕地 | |
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48
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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49
wanly
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| adv.虚弱地；苍白地，无血色地 | |
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50
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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51
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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52
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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53
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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54
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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55
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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56
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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57
bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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58
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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59
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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63
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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67
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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68
braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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70
domed
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| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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71
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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72
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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73
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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74
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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75
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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76
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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77
corona
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| n.日冕 | |
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78
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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79
devastation
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| n.毁坏；荒废；极度震惊或悲伤 | |
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80
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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81
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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82
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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83
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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84
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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85
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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86
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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87
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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88
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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