[Illustration: 0279]
This roadway, called formerly the "Rue Neuve de Paris," was the
principal artery of the little old city, under the twenty-year-old name
of "Rue de la République."
Sung by poets, such as Gérard de Nerval, and Maurice Barrés, M. André
Haileys described Senlis as "tortueuse, taciturne et charmante," and
dwelt lovingly upon its "mossy terraces," its ancient walls bathed in
sunlight, and its grand old tower whose perfect bells sounded over the
golden green fields.
In the early summer days of 1914, the Society of Amateurs held their
celebration at Senlis, says Baron de Maricourt, "a few months ago,
months which seem years now. The ceremony was to celebrate the Victory
of Bouvignes. In the St. Rieul Hall, Madame la duchesse de Vendôme sat
beside M. Odent, the mayor of the town, who spoke feelingly of ancient
France, and of Flanders....
"One month later the Hall was occupied by cavalry; our own cavalry of
France.... On the horizon lay the German army....
"Three weeks later M. Odent, the mayor, was killed in the bombardment;
the Hall of Saint-Rieul was a hospital; the brother of the princess had
become 'Albert le Brave,' the plain of Bouvignes was bathed in blood;
Senlis was burning; the inhabitants had fled."
It would appear that Senlis was burned and sacked to inspire Paris with
terror, and as an example of the fate that awaited her.
Nearly all the inhabitants fled when the news came that the Germans had
crossed the border. A few of the citizens resolved to remain to support
the mayor and magistrates in keeping the peace, to patrol the town to
prevent looting, and to watch for fires. Some pieces of heavy artillery
had been arranged before the Hôtel de Ville and under the towers of the
Cathedral, but there was neither ammunition for these nor soldiers in
the town to use them. The town was silent, the factories empty, the
streets almost deserted. In the town hall, the few faithful ones
remained on watch day and night grouped about the mayor. In some of the
rooms were refugees from neighboring towns, old men and women with
young children who had nowhere else to go. In the hospitals the nuns and
nurses cared for the wounded who had been brought to the town in large
numbers. There were no soldiers hereabouts. This is the truth (affirms
the Baron de Maricourt). The Germans understood and saw a different
picture, so they say. They heard the movement of vast bodies of armed
men; they saw the "franc tireurs" in the trees firing upon them,
they saw cannon protruding from the windows of the towers of the old
cathedral.... So the knell of Louvain sounded for Senlis.... So wrote
the Baron de Maricourt of Senlis, who remained in the town during
the occupation by the Germans, who suffered at their hands all the
indignities they could devise; who remained calm and heroic through all
the terrors of the bombardment and destruction of his beloved town.
"The first German body of troops which entered the town carried with
them a corps of incendiaries in regular formation upon bicycles, armed
with tubes of metal containing, as was afterwards ascertained, picric
acid, and others a kind of wick of cotton charged with gasoline or
petroleum. Some of the men carried hand grenades strung around their
waists or over their shoulders, and these they threw into open windows
and doorways of designated houses. By midnight the sky was illuminated
by fires in every quarter of the town."
It commenced in the faubourg St.-Martin. It is said that the soldiers
warned the occupants of houses designated to leave before they set fire
to them. "Let us be just to the German soldiers," says M. de Maricourt.
"In the evening of the day of occupation, the Archdeacon was brought to
the Hôtel du Grand-Cerf, by the concierge Boullay. He was paraded before
the officers, but was not mistreated, except that he was compelled to
stand, and no one addressed him. Finally he was ordered to return to his
quarters, but hardly had he arrived there, before another order came for
him to return at once to the Grand-Cerf. Already towards the south end
of the town the houses were in flames, and he saw the soldiers carrying
lighted torches. He was brought before an officer who spoke French and
whose manner was not discourteous:--
"'Monsieur,' said he, 'attend to me,'--and he read from a paper charges
that the priest had allowed citizens to fire upon the entering German
troops.
"'It is not true,' replied the Archdeacon, 'I was alone in the church,
and the keys were in my pocket.'
"The officer read upon the face of the priest the evident sincerity of
his words.
"'Poor priest! Poor town!' he said pityingly, 'I believe you, but I must
obey orders.'
"'How so?'
"'Because I am ordered to treat Senlis as was Louvain; by to-morrow
there will remain not one stone upon another.'
"M. Douvlent pleaded eloquently for his parishioners, whose innocence he
vouched for. The officer seemed impressed.
"'You are a Catholic priest, but alas, war is cruel, and orders are not
to be ignored. This town merits chastisement.'
"'Take me before the General,' urged the priest, 'I am your prisoner,
and I have the right to plead the cause of my innocent parishioners.'
"'No, sir,' retorted the officer frowningly, 'nothing of the sort; do
you not realize that you are in great danger?'
"'Danger?' ejaculated the priest, 'I fear no danger, I have made my
sacrifice; I have faced it all this morning.'
"'Very well,' said the officer, somewhat more gently, 'but I think it
will be best for you to return to your house. If necessary I will call
you.'
"A short time after this conversation, I saw the priest, with the few
who remained of his household, standing in the Square. I saw them again
at about one in the morning; they were still standing in the Square
beneath the lamp which shone upon their anxious faces. A dozen or so
German soldiers stood about. Two sentries paced up and down, one at each
crossing. No one returned to their houses. The curtain had risen upon
the drama of Senlis....
"At the end of this day, Thursday, M. Odent (the mayor of Senlis),
left the Hôtel de Grand-Cerf accompanied by an officer, and entering a
covered automobile was driven rapidly away, followed by five cavalrymen.
"They stopped at a place called 'le Poteari,' situated between Senlis
and Chamont; there they found six captives whom the Germans had taken at
hazard on the route.
"One of these, named Delacroix, had been arrested in company with two
workmen named Quentin and Reck, the latter a mason by trade, at the
corner of the Rue de Bordeaux and la République, at the moment when the
firing was the hottest in that quarter. Reck had been hit in the jaw and
in the arm. The German soldiers entering the town found him bleeding
in the road and with the singular, the unexplainable attitude of the
German, at one moment cruel to the last degree, at the next of lamblike
gentleness, these soldiers conducted the wounded man Reck to the
'prefecture,' _where his wounds were tenderly dressed by a German
Major!_
"Quentin and Delacroix were taken at Chamont with revolvers in their
hands, together with a stranger who was visiting the house of his
sister, and two others, Benoit Decrens, a domestic servant, and Boullet,
a laborer.
"Up to eleven o'clock in the evening these unhappy captives were marched
up and down the various streets and alleys of the village by their
captors, until at length near the Bon Secours woods in a secluded spot,
an officer ordered the mayor and the six captives to lie down on the
grass. When this was done, he ordered the mayor, M. Odent, to rise and
advance three paces.
"The soldiers presented arms.
"'You are the Mayor Odent?' called out the officer brusquely.
"'Yes.'
"'You have fired on our men?'
"'No.'
"'You have fired on our men,' insisted the ferocious voice, 'you are to
be shot!'
"M. Odent handed his papers to Benoit and shook hands with his
companions. He then clasped his hands in prayer, after which he stood
with eyes calmly fixed upon the officer. The officer raised his hands,
motioning to the soldiers.
"They shot the mayor with their revolvers....
"Afterwards, the officer made a little speech to the terrified men.
"'War is as sad for us as it is for you. It is France and your Poincaré
that you must blame--they would have it. We Germans do not make war upon
civilians, but those who fire upon us will be promptly shot.'
"These men were then used as guides by the officers, during their
occupancy of the town. When no longer of use, _they disappeared._
"There were others, too; I do not know how many. There was little
Gabanel, the son of the butcher, a merry little chap, known throughout
the neighborhood, he disappeared with his father's old white horse and
the red, two-wheeled wagon. He was never heard of again... and there
was the baker's boy Jaudin, whose mutilated body was found in a field
at Villers-St. Frambourg.... There was the hunchback Cottreau, aged
seventeen, a harmless cripple who was found hanging in the attic of an
inn....
"Arthur Rigault, the stone cutter, Elisée Pommier, aged 67 years....
"Jean Barbier, wagon driver....
"Pierre Dewart, chauffeur.
"None of these can ever relate their terrible stories. We shall never
know what happened to them."