WE passed through it late in the afternoon—this little Belgian town called Montignies St. Christophe—just twenty-four hours behind a dust-colored German column. I am going to try now to tell how it looked to us.
I am inclined to think I passed this way a year before, or a little less, though I cannot be quite certain as to that. Traveling 'cross country, the country is likely to look different from the way it looked when you viewed it from the window of a railroad carriage.
Of this much, though, I am sure: If I did not pass through this little town of Montignies St. Christophe then, at least I passed through fifty like it—each a single line of gray houses strung, like beads2 on a cord, along a white, straight road, with fields behind and elms in front; each with its small, ugly church, its wine shop, its drinking trough, its priest in[Pg 14] black, and its one lone3 gendarme4 in his preposterous5 housings of saber and belt and shoulder straps6.
I rather imagine I tried to think up something funny to say about the shabby grandeur7 of the gendarme or the acid flavor of the cooking vinegar sold at the drinking place under the name of wine; for that time I was supposed to be writing humorous articles on European travel.
But now something had happened to Montignies St. Christophe to lift it out of the dun, dull sameness that made it as one with so many other unimportant villages in this upper lefthand corner of the map of Europe. The war had come this way; and, coming so, had dealt it a side-slap.
We came to it just before dusk. All day we had been hurrying along, trying to catch up with the German rear guard; but the Germans moved faster than we did, even though they fought as they went. They had gone round the southern part of Belgium like coopers round a cask, hooping it in with tight bands of steel. Belgium—or this part of it—was all barreled up now: chines, staves and bung; and the Germans were already across the line, beating down the sod of France with their pelting8 feet.
Besides we had stopped often, for there was so much to see and to hear. There was the hour we spent at Merbes-le-Chateau9, where[Pg 15] the English had been; and the hour we spent at La Bussière, on the river Sambre, where a fight had been fought two days earlier; but Merbes-le-Chateau is another story and so is la Bussière. Just after La Bussière we came to a tiny village named Neuville and halted while the local Jack-of-all-trades mended for us an invalided10 tire on a bicycle.
As we grouped in the narrow street before his shop, with a hiving swarm11 of curious villagers buzzing about us, an improvised12 ambulance, with a red cross painted on its side over the letters of a baker's sign, went up the steep hill at the head of the cobbled street. At that the women in the doorways13 of the small cottages twisted their gnarled red hands in their aprons14, and whispered fearsomely among themselves, so that the sibilant sound of their voices ran up and down the line of houses in a long, quavering hiss15.
The wagon16, it seemed, was bringing in a wounded French soldier who had been found in the woods beyond the river. He was one of the last to be found alive, which was another way of saying that for two days and two nights he had been lying helpless in the thicket17, his stomach empty and his wounds raw. On each of those two nights it had rained, and rained hard.
Just as we started on our way the big guns began booming somewhere ahead of us toward the southwest; so we turned in that direction.[Pg 16] We had heard the guns distinctly in the early forenoon, and again, less distinctly, about noontime. Thereafter, for a while, there had been a lull18 in the firing; but now it was constant—a steady, sustained boom-boom-boom, so far away that it fell on the eardrums as a gentle concussion19; as a throb20 of air, rather than as a real sound. For three days now we had been following that distant voice of the cannon21, trying to catch up with it as it advanced, always southward, toward the French frontier. Therefore we flogged the belly22 of our tired horse with the lash23 of a long whip, and hurried along.
There were five of us, all Americans. The two who rode on bicycles pedaled ahead as outriders, and the remaining three followed on behind with the horse and the dogcart. We had bought the outfit24 that morning and we were to lose it that night. The horse was an aged25 mare26, with high withers27, and galls28 on her shoulders and fetlocks unshorn, after the fashion of Belgian horses; and the dogcart was a venerable ruin, which creaked a great protest at every turn of the warped29 wheels on the axle. We had been able to buy the two—the mare and the cart—only because the German soldiers had not thought them worth the taking.
In this order, then, we proceeded. Pretty soon the mare grew so weary she could hardly lift her shaggy old legs; so, footsore as we were, we who rode dismounted and trudged[Pg 17] on, taking turns at dragging her forward by the bit. I presume we went ahead thus for an hour or more, along an interminable straight road and past miles of the checkered30 light and dark green fields which in harvest time make a great backgammon board of this whole country of Belgium.
The road was empty of natives—empty, too, of German wagon trains; and these seemed to us curious things, because there had until then been hardly a minute of the day when we were not passing soldiers or meeting refugees.
Almost without warning we came on this little village called Montignies St. Christophe. A six-armed signboard at a crossroads told us its name—a rather impressive name ordinarily for a place of perhaps twenty houses, all told. But now tragedy had given it distinction; had painted that straggling frontier hamlet over with such colors that the picture of it is going to live in my memory as long as I do live. At the upper end of the single street, like an outpost, stood an old chateau, the seat, no doubt, of the local gentry31, with a small park of beeches32 and elms round it; and here, right at the park entrance, we had our first intimation that there had been a fight. The gate stood ajar between its chipped stone pillars, and just inside the blue coat of a French cavalry33 officer, jaunty34 and new and much braided with gold lace on the collar and cuffs35, hung from the limb of a small tree. Beneath the[Pg 18] tree were a sheaf of straw in the shape of a bed and the ashes of a dead camp fire; and on the grass, plain to the eye, a plump, well-picked pullet, all ready for the pot or the pan. Looking on past these things we saw much scattered36 dunnage: Frenchmen's knapsacks, flannel38 shirts, playing cards, fagots of firewood mixed together like jackstraws, canteens covered with slate-blue cloth and having queer little hornlike protuberances on their tops—which proved them to be French canteens—tumbled straw, odd shoes with their lacings undone39, a toptilted service shelter of canvas; all the riffle of a camp that had been suddenly and violently disturbed.
As I think back it seems to me that not until that moment had it occurred to us to regard closely the cottages and shops beyond the clumped40 trees of the chateau grounds. We were desperately41 weary, to begin with, and our eyes, those past three days, had grown used to the signs of misery42 and waste and ruin, abundant and multiplying in the wake of the hard-pounding hoofs43 of the conqueror45.
Now, all of a sudden, I became aware that this town had been literally46 shot to bits. From our side—that is to say, from the north and likewise from the west—the Germans had shelled it. From the south, plainly, the French had answered. The village, in between, had caught the full force and fury of the contending fires. Probably the inhabitants had[Pg 19] warning; probably they fled when the German skirmishers surprised that outpost of Frenchmen camping in the park. One imagined them scurrying47 like rabbits across the fields and through the cabbage patches. But they had left their belongings48 behind, all their small petty gearings and garnishings, to be wrecked49 in the wrenching50 and racking apart of their homes.
A railroad track emerged from the fields and ran along the one street. Shells had fallen on it and exploded, ripping the steel rails from the crossties, so that they stood up all along in a jagged formation, like rows of snaggled teeth. Other shells, dropping in the road, had so wrought51 with the stone blocks that they were piled here in heaps, and there were depressed52 into caverns53 and crevasses54 four or five or six feet deep.
Every house in sight had been hit again and again and again. One house would have its whole front blown in, so that we could look right back to the rear walls and see the pans on the kitchen shelves. Another house would lack a roof to it, and the tidy tiles that had made the roof were now red and yellow rubbish, piled like broken shards55 outside a potter's door. The doors stood open, and the windows, with the windowpanes all gone and in some instances the sashes as well, leered emptily like eye-sockets without eyes.
So it went. Two of the houses had caught[Pg 20] fire and the interiors were quite burned away. A sodden56 smell of burned things came from the still smoking ruins; but the walls, being of thick stone, stood.
Our poor tired old nag37 halted and sniffed57 and snorted. If she had had energy enough I reckon she would have shied about and run back the way she had come, for now, just ahead, lay two dead horses—a big gray and a roan—with their stark58 legs sticking out across the road. The gray was shot through and through in three places. The right fore1 hoof44 of the roan had been cut smack59 off, as smoothly60 as though done with an ax; and the stiffened61 leg had a curiously62 unfinished look about it, suggesting a natural malformation. Dead only a few hours, their carcasses already had begun to swell63. The skin on their bellies64 was as tight as a drumhead.
We forced the quivering mare past the two dead horses. Beyond them the road was a litter. Knapsacks, coats, canteens, handkerchiefs, pots, pans, household utensils65, bottles, jugs66 and caps were everywhere. The deep ditches on either side of the road were clogged67 with such things. The dropped caps and the abandoned knapsacks were always French caps and French knapsacks, cast aside, no doubt, for a quick flight after the mêlée.
The Germans had charged after shelling the town, and then the French had fallen back—or at least so we deduced from the looks of[Pg 21] things. In the débris was no object that bespoke68 German workmanship or German ownership. This rather puzzled us until we learned that the Germans, as tidy in this game of war as in the game of life, made it a hard-and-fast rule to gather up their own belongings after every engagement, great or small, leaving behind nothing that might serve to give the enemy an idea of their losses.
We went by the church. Its spire69 was gone; but, strange to say, a small flag—the Tricolor of France—still fluttered from a window where some one had stuck it. We went by the taverne, or wine shop, which had a sign over its door—a creature remotely resembling a blue lynx. And through the door we saw half a loaf of bread and several bottles on a table. We went by a rather pretentious70 house, with pear trees in front of it and a big barn alongside it; and right under the eaves of the barn I picked up the short jacket of a French trooper, so new and fresh from the workshop that the white cambric lining71 was hardly soiled. The figure 18 was on the collar; we decided72 that its wearer must have belonged to the Eighteenth Cavalry Regiment73. Behind the barn we found a whole pile of new knapsacks—the flimsy play-soldier knapsacks of the French infantrymen, not half so heavy or a third so substantial as the heavy sacks of the Germans, which are all bound with straps and covered on the back side with undressed red bullock's hide.
[Pg 22]
Until now we had seen, in all the silent, ruined village, no human being. The place fairly ached with emptiness. Cats sat on the doorsteps or in the windows, and presently from a barn we heard imprisoned74 beasts lowing dismally75. Cows were there, with agonized76 udders and, penned away from them, famishing calves77; but there were no dogs. We already had remarked this fact—that in every desolated78 village cats were thick enough; but invariably the sharp-nosed, wolfish-looking Belgian dogs had disappeared along with their masters. And it was so in Montignies St. Christophe.
On a roadside barricade79 of stones, chinked with sods of turf—a breastwork the French probably had erected80 before the fight and which the Germans had kicked half down—I counted three cats, seated side by side, washing their faces sedately81 and soberly.
It was just after we had gone by the barricade that, in a shed behind the riddled82 shell of a house, which was almost the last house of the town, one of our party saw an old, a very old, woman, who peered out at us through a break in the wall. He called out to her in French, but she never answered—only continued to watch him from behind her shelter. He started toward her and she disappeared noiselessly, without having spoken a word. She was the only living person we saw in that town.
[Pg 23]
Just beyond the town, though, we met a wagon—a furniture dealer's wagon—from some larger community, which had been impressed by the Belgian authorities, military or civil, for ambulance service. A jaded83 team of horses drew it, and white flags with red crosses in their centers drooped84 over the wheels, fore and aft. One man led the near horse by the bit and two other men walked behind the wagon. All three of them had Red Cross brassards on the sleeves of their coats.
The wagon had a hood85 on it, but was open at both ends. Overhauling86 it we saw that it contained two dead soldiers—French foot-soldiers. The bodies rested side by side on the wagon bed. Their feet somehow were caught up on the wagon seat so that their stiff legs, in the baggy87 red pants, slanted88 upward, and the two dead men had the look of being about to glide89 backward and out of the wagon.
The blue-clad arms of one of them were twisted upward in a half-arc, encircling nothing; and as the wheels jolted90 over the rutted cobbles these two bent91 arms joggled and swayed drunkenly. The other's head was canted back so that, as we passed, we looked right into his face. It was a young face—we could tell that much, even through the mask of caked mud on the drab-white skin—and it might once have been a comely92 face. It was not comely now.
[Pg 24]
Peering into the wagon we saw that the dead man's face had been partly shot or shorn away—the lower jaw93 was gone; so that it had become an abominable94 thing to look on. These two had been men the day before. Now they were carrion95 and would be treated as such; for as we looked back we saw the wagon turn off the high road into a field where the wild red poppies, like blobs of red blood, grew thick between rows of neglected sugar beets96.
We stopped and watched. The wagon bumped through the beet97 patch to where, at the edge of a thicket, a trench98 had been dug. The diggers were two peasants in blouses, who stood alongside the ridge99 of raw upturned earth at the edge of the hole, in the attitude of figures in a painting by Millet100. Their spades were speared upright into the mound101 of fresh earth. Behind them a stenciling102 of poplars rose against the sky line.
We saw the bodies lifted out of the wagon. We saw them slide into the shallow grave, and saw the two diggers start at their task of filling in the hole.
Not until then did it occur to any one of us that we had not spoken to the men in charge of the wagon, or they to us. There was one detached house, not badly battered103, alongside the road at the lower edge of the field where the burial took place. It had a shield on its front wall bearing the Belgian arms and words to denote that it was a customs house.[Pg 25] A glance at our map showed us that at this point the French boundary came up in a V-shaped point almost to the road. Had the gravediggers picked a spot fifty yards farther on for digging their trench, those two dead Frenchmen would have rested in the soil of their own country.
The sun was almost down by now, and its slanting104 rays slid lengthwise through the elm-tree aisles105 along our route. Just as it disappeared we met a string of refugees—men, women and children—all afoot, all bearing pitiably small bundles. They limped along silently in a straggling procession. None of them was weeping; none of them apparently106 had been weeping. During the past ten days I had seen thousands of such refugees, and I had yet to hear one of them cry out or complain or protest.
These who passed us now were like that. Their heavy peasant faces expressed dumb bewilderment—nothing else. They went on up the road into the gathering107 dusk as we went down, and almost at once the sound of their clunking tread died out behind us. Without knowing certainly, we nevertheless imagined they were the dwellers108 of Montignies St. Christophe going back to the sorry shells that had been their homes.
An hour later we passed through the back lines of the German camp and entered the town of Beaumont, to find that the General[Pg 26] Staff of a German army corps109 was quartered there for the night, and that the main force of the column, after sharp fighting, had already advanced well beyond the frontier. France was invaded.
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1
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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gendarme
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| n.宪兵 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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invalided
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| 使伤残（invalid的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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12
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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17
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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18
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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galls
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| v.使…擦痛( gall的第三人称单数 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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checkered
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| adj.有方格图案的 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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clumped
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| adj.[医]成群的v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的过去式和过去分词 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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51
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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52
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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crevasses
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| n.破口，崩溃处，裂缝( crevasse的名词复数 ) | |
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shards
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| n.（玻璃、金属或其他硬物的）尖利的碎片( shard的名词复数 ) | |
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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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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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59
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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60
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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61
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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62
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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63
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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64
bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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65
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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66
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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67
clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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68
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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69
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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70
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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71
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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72
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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73
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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76
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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77
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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78
desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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79
barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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80
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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81
sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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82
riddled
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| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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83
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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84
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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86
overhauling
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| n.大修；拆修；卸修；翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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87
baggy
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| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
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88
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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89
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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90
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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92
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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93
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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94
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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95
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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96
beets
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| 甜菜( beet的名词复数 )； 甜菜根； （因愤怒、难堪或觉得热而）脸红 | |
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97
beet
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| n.甜菜；甜菜根 | |
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98
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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99
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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100
millet
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| n.小米，谷子 | |
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101
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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102
stenciling
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| n.镂花涂装v.用模板印（文字或图案）( stencil的现在分词 ) | |
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103
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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104
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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105
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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106
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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107
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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108
dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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109
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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