The first notebook at hand is that of a soldier of the Prussian Guard,
the Gefreiter Paul Spielmann, (of Company I, First Brigade of the
Infantry Guard.) He tells the story of an unexpected night alarm on the
1st of September in a village near Blamont. The bugle sounds, and the
Guard, startled from sleep, begins the massacre, (Figs. 1 and 2:)
[Illustration: Figure 1.]
The inhabitants fled through the village. It was horrible. The
walls of houses are bespattered with blood and the faces of
the dead are hideous to look upon. They were buried at once,
some sixty of them. Among them many old women, old men, and
one woman pregnant--the whole a dreadful sight. Three children
huddled together--all dead. Altar and arches of the church
shattered. Telephone communication with the enemy was found
there. This morning, Sept. 2, all the survivors were driven
out; I saw four little boys carrying on two poles a cradle
with a child some five or six months old. The whole makes a
fearful sight. Blow upon blow! Thunderbolt on thunderbolt!
Everything given over to plunder. I saw a mother with her two
little ones--one of them had a great wound in the head and an
eye put out.
Deserved repression, remarks this soldier: "They had telephone
communication with the enemy." And yet, we may recall that by Article
30 of The Hague Convention of 1907, signed on behalf of H.M. the Emperor
of Germany, "no collective penalty, pecuniary or other, shall be
proclaimed against a population, by reason of individual acts for which
the population is not responsible _in solido_." What tribunal during
that dreadful night took the pains to establish this joint
participation?
[Illustration: Figure 2.]