[Illustration: 0061]
"Happily, the 'Descent from the Cross' by Rubens, which decorated the
Cathedral was removed from its place some hours before the fire, when
the first of the great shells fell upon the town, and secreted by the
priests. Also two 'triptychs' by Jean Bellegambe were saved by M. Levoy,
who buried them in the cellar of the Chateau of the Counte de
Hauteclocque. Curiously enough, some little time after they were thus
secreted, a shell penetrated this cellar, but it is said that the damage
to the pictures is small and may easily be repaired.
"The Abbe Miseron, Vicar of the Cathedral, himself, at the peril of his
life saved some of the most precious objects in the Treasury. He says
(happily) that the great tombs of the Bishops, though buried beneath the
ashes of the Cathedral, have suffered small damage.
"Of the four colossal statues of the Evangelists, not a trace remains;
they are entirely pulverized by the great shells exploding before them.
"Of the Library, too, not a trace remains! Some of the archives have, I
hear, been saved, together with a number of paintings, and M. Dalimeir,
under secretary of Beaux Arts has decided to send them to Paris. All the
rest has vanished. A fragment of the plan in relief of the old town of
Arras, formerly in the Invalides was saved, but nothing remains of the
Roman antiquities which were discovered in the caves beneath the town,
nor of the old tapestries, nor the faience, nor of the objects which
filled the galleries of Natural History in the museum.--All is gone!
"In eleven months since the bombardment began, one hundred and
seventy-five of our citizens have been killed in the streets and in
their houses, and the number of wounded is more than double that number.
After the demolition of our charming home, we found shelter for three
nights in the cellar of a kind neighbor, but on the fifth of July, in
the early morning, we had to take in our turn 'le chemin d' 'Exil.' For
nine months now we have had to retreat from place to place, each filled
with possible dangers, and certain discomfort, but with hearts filled
too with profound emotion, and the hope that we may soon return to our
beloved town and to our charming old home, our house so beloved--so
peaceful once in those happy days, when the pigeons cooed on the
eaves in the warm sunlight, the swallows darting to their nests on the
chimney--all the cherished souvenirs of those past days--my tears--"...
Our poor town"--(_ville Meurtrie_).
"Around about Arras, the villages, once so smiling and prosperous, are
now all in ruins.--Later on when glorious peace breaks upon the land of
France, each hamlet shall be starred upon the pages of the golden book
of history. And this black page of war once closed, that Arras-la-Morte
shall rise from her ruins and ashes, more beautiful than ever, is my
prayer."
(Signed) Madeline Wartelle.
July, 1915.