Frances Wilson Huard

“ What mud! What a road—sometimes entirely gutted, sometimes so obstructed with gasoline cans, hubs of wheels and scraps of iron, that I was obliged to lead Cesar by the bridle, while the others would walk ahead and clear a passage. Their progress was snail-like, for there was little oil left in our lantern and they hesitated before casting the refuse into the ditch for fear of profaning some unknown hero's grave.
And so, stumbling and halting, we came into Barcy. As we passed in front of the battered church we could see the huge bronze bell lying amid a pile of beams, at the foot of the belfry. ”

“ Just then George asked me which direction I intended taking, and remembering H.'s imperative "Go south," we turned sharp and headed for the first bridge across the Marne.
High in front of me rose the dark wooded hills of Pavant, descending abruptly to that narrow strip of fertile plain which borders the river on both sides, but now half-veiled in a heavy blue mist. Below me the swift current sped onward like a silver arrow, and before so impressive a spectacle I could not help thinking how meager is the art of the scene painter and dramatist which tries to depict a real battlefield. ”

“ Even the signal lamps on the distant railway line rose out of the labyrinth like a lighthouse in mid-ocean, making the illusion complete.
Dawn was breaking as we reached the summit and pausing for a moment's breath, we could see people with bundles hurrying from cottages and farm yards, while the fields seemed dotted with horses and carts that sprang out of the semi-darkness like specters, following one another to the highway. In less than no time the long caravan had re-formed and was again under way. ”

“ The girls in the cart drew closer together, shivering, though the air was warm and muggy. Even old Cesar seemed to feel the awe of that Valley of Shadow, and no one murmured as we passed the first bloated carcasses of dead horses and came upon that far more horrid sight—human bodies—swelled to twice their natural size, lying as death had met them, some in piles, others farther apart—all unrecognizable, but once proud mothers' petted darlings. ”

“ The wonderful fertile fields had been soiled, polluted, and among other damning evidences of their fury, the smoking ruins of every farm house stood like specters in the brilliant sunshine.
At the entrance to La Ferte our road was barred by two sentinels, elderly peasants, by their looks. I played mum and tapped my Red Cross armlet.
"Non, on ne passe pas!"
I beckoned them and fumbled among my papers for my carte d'identite. They approached the cart, but as they did so, my faithful Betsy let forth an angry growl.
"Down!" I commanded in English. "Down! I say! They're not going to hurt me!" ”

“ Looking up I saw that the proprietress and her two daughters had disappeared.
"Au secours! Au secours!"
The boys and I made a rush for the house. As we entered the grande sale, we saw a man bearing a human form in his arms staggering through the door. Through the blood and dust that smeared the unfortunate boy's clothing, I recognized the uniform of a chasseur. Not even an emergency bandage stopped the stream that was flowing from his cheek.
"Quick—a mattress!" I shouted.
The proprietress stood as though nailed to the doorway leading to the kitchen. ”

“ As we approached Coulommiers the next morning the horrors of war became more and more evident. On both sides of the roadway the fields were strewn with bay and straw. Every ten paces the earth was burned or charred, and in some places the smoke still rose from dying campfires. Bones, bottles and tin preserve cans in extraordinary quantities were strewn in every direction, and a half mile before we reached the town itself, a dead horse lay abandoned in a ditch.
At this point we were hailed by a party of bedraggled refugees who warned us that it would be useless to try to enter Coulommiers. ”

“ I dressed and went to the stables where George and Leon were already harnessing. More than once I had a tight feeling in my throat as I patted the glossy backs of dear old Cesar and my lovely span.
The girls had decorated the carts with huge bunches of poppies, daisies and corn-flowers and in addition to these tri-color bouquets, a little branch of laurel was stuck up over each horse's bridle. There was a generous distribution of sugar, and each horse was kissed on the tip of his nose, and then the boys joined the procession on the highroad. ”

“ But I was given no time to muse, for a most amazing clamor arose from a gateway a little higher up the road, and glancing in that direction, I saw old father Poupard leading his horse and cart into the open. He was followed by his wife and daughter-in-law, two brawny peasant women, who were loudly lamenting the departure of their steed!
"No, no!" literally howled mother Poupard.
"This is the last straw! Both sons gone, and now our horse! Who's going to bring in our crop? The Lord is unjust." ”

“ Domptin, our neighboring village, one mile up the road, had caught the fever and was moving out wholesale, transporting its ill and decrepit, its children and chattels, in heaven knows how many baby carriages!
I had never seen so many in all my life. The effect was altogether comic, and Madame Guix and I could not resist laughing—much to the dismay of these poor souls who saw little amusement at being obliged to leave home scantily clad in night clothes. ”

“ Pulling myself together, I started across the lawn towards the village in search of aid, for a second glance told me that it was useless even to think of entering the house, so great was the filth and disorder.
Slowly I pushed onward, my head bent, my heart heavy with sorrow and worry. Twenty paces in front of me I discerned a low mound and then, horror of horrors, a huge black cross stood forth in the semi-darkness. A grave—a German grave. Some poor souls interred on my greensward; but why, since our little cemetery is but a couple of hundred yards up the road? ”

“ 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. ”

“ In the cool gray dawn of Wednesday morning, September second, when I opened my shutters and looked out into the little square that faces the chateau, I was amazed to see that the refugees who had halted there were in carts and wagons whose signs were most familiar. They came from Soissons!
"Hello," thought I, "I'll go and see what they have to say! Things must be getting very bad if a big city like Soissons suddenly takes to its heels." (Soissons is but little over twenty miles from Villiers.) ”

“ On the further side of the square noisy rolling sounds told me that the artillery was crossing the city, and mounting a doorstep, I beheld battery after battery of the famous Seventy-fives clattering out of sight over the road we had come by in the morning. When I got down, I found my way blocked by the 18th Chasseurs a cheval, who, four abreast and lance in hand, were setting out for battle. They were anything but a beaten army—most of them were softly humming some popular song, while others were calmly filling their pipes and still others catching forty winks in their saddles. ”

“ Around these stacks were scattered the remains of old boots and shoes, scarlet blood-soaked rags, dry beans, bits of soap, playing cards and songs. Oh, lighthearted sons of France, it can be truly said that death held no terrors for you, since from Barcy to Soissons the ground you loved and so valiantly defended was strewn white with hundreds of thousands of tender ditties and chansons de route. ”

“ It was a four-seater affair with but two occupants, a chauffeur and a woman wearing a streaming white veil.
"Quick!" I shrieked, grabbing the reins and pulling our cart full into the middle of the road. "They've got to take me and the boy to Melun!"
Seeing his deliverance so near, my old friend obeyed at once.
The motor, stupefied by our actions, slowed down.
"Get out of the way!" yelled the chauffeur. "Are you crazy! Out or
I'll run you down!"
"Never! Look here. I don't care where you're bound for, but you've got to make room for me and a dying man in your machine. It's Melun—or nothing!" ”

“ I peeked into the courtyard.
In one corner lounging upon the ground were a dozen untidy, unshaven men, whom I recognized by their uniforms to be Germans. One man cast an insolent glance toward me and turned his back. Two others smiled and pointed toward the bread they held in their hands. On some straw in a couple of drays lay five or six individuals, their arms in slings, their heads bandaged.
"Nothing serious," explained a sergeant. "We're waiting for our men to clear up the tracks and the genie to throw a bridge across the canal. Then we'll evacuate them." ”

“ And my kodak, which I had been so prompt to use to commemorate various events, seemed a vulgar, inquisitive instrument, and was left unheeded in the bottom of the cart. Each step brought us face to face with the horrors of warfare. Towards Villeroy a number of battered Parisian taxicabs gave us the first hint of General Gallieni's clever maneuver which helped save the capital—and then the wind brought towards us a nauseating odor, which paralyzed our appetites, and sent us doggedly onwards: the stench of the battlefield. ”

“ The two vehicles when loaded were run into an empty carriage house, whose door I locked, rather ashamed of my precautions.
Night had fallen and the incoming stream of refugees demanded our every attention. Madame Guix was occupied with two women whose physical condition was such that it was impossible to refuse them beds, come what might—and as I crossed the vestibule in search of some instruments, the shadow of a woman and two little girls came up the steps. "Could I give them lodgings?" begged the poor soul. ”

“ George, who had also heard the noise, reached the scene of action before we did, and on our arrival we found him knee deep in the mud, preparing to hoist a little limp body on to the bank.
Johnny Poupard!
"Good heavens!" thought I. "Decidedly that family had no intention of letting the village rust for want of dramatic situations!"
"He's merely fainted; more frightened than hurt," declared Madame Guix, who had literally pounced upon him. "Now then, ladies," she said, turning towards the women who stood gaping at us, "now then, here's a splendid opportunity to distinguish yourselves." ”

“ The poor soul must have been dreaming, for when I touched her door she screamed, and as I opened it and held the lamp over my head, I could see the two little creatures clinging to their mother, who on her knees begged, "Take me, but spare my babies!"
I had some difficulty in reassuring her, but finally succeeded, and left her to go below to the hospital.
At the first alarm, the women who were sleeping there had fled in terror, and when assured that all were gone, for safety's sake I went up into the vestibule and standing at the foot of' the stairs, called, "All out! All out! ”

“ Julie, the only person over thirty, offered to take over the kitchen. To George and Leon fell the gardens, the stables, the horses, dogs, pigs and cattle. Yvonne, aged seventeen, offered to milk the cows, make butter and cheese, look after the chickens and my duck farm, while Berthe and Nini, aged fourteen and ten, were left to take care of the chateau! Not a very brilliant equipment to run as large an establishment as ours, but all so willing and so full of good humour that things were less neglected than one might imagine. ”

“ The terrified civil population was even exultant, for two nights previously an automobile containing four German officers sped through the town, in the direction of Paris, and ignorant of the fact that the English had destroyed the bridge, had been precipitated into the river. The affair seemed to be considered as a huge joke, and the chief amusement now consisted in hanging over the broken side and contemplating the gruesome spectacle of a half-submerged motor, and four human bodies lying inanimate on some rocks, rapidly swelling, thanks to heat and the current. ”

“ Without waiting a second, Maitre Baudoin crossed over to the town hall and soon returned with a key in his hand.
"Here, here's the key to a bakery—there are rooms above. Your people can lodge there and you come in with us. All this will be over in a day or so; the news is good to-day. The Germans will never reach the Marne!"
I went and fetched our delighted caravan, and after safely depositing them in their new residence, I was crossing the main street to join my friends, when a big military auto whisked into the middle of the square and halted. ”

“ Poupard now possessed all the qualities of mankind and it was probably through his noble soft-heartedness that some ill had befallen him. What a misfortune, especially as the vines needed so much attention.
Sunday, the ninth, I was preparing to go to early service at Charly (our own curate had been called to join his regiment) when on crossing the bridge, a bicycle whisked by the victoria.
"He's coming—he's coming!" called the rider, as he passed us.
"Who?" I said, rising, as George drew up.
"Father Poupard!" called the boy. "I'm going to tell his wife!" ”

“ In the courtyard I found Julie and her family already perched on the hay-cart, where Yvonne had been hoisted and lay moaning, well covered in a blanket. Both horses were hitched and my servants waiting orders. Beside ours, other big drays were being prepared for flight, yet there was no confusion—no loud talking—no lamenting. I then told the boys to hurry to the farm yard and open all the gates so that the poultry and cows could have free access to the entire estate, which is closed in by a wall. ”

“ Through the doorway of our stifling compartment, which up until the last moment was left open for air, we could see the train on the opposite platform silently, rapidly filling with men, each carrying a new pair of shoes either slung over the shoulders or neatly tied in a box or paper parcel. Then without any warning, without any hilarious vociferations on the part of its occupants, it quietly drew out of the station, to be instantly replaced by another train of cars.
Five times we watched the same operation recommence ere the ten o'clock train decided to leave Paris. ”