"Sit down," I said. "It won't belong before some of the men will be
passing by on their way to the fields, and then you won't have made your
journey for nothing."
Pere Potipard gladly accepted, and after a generous swig at his brandy,
began telling me about what happened at Villiers during the German
invasion in 1870. As he talked on, night gradually disappeared, and when
the clock in the belfry tolled three A. M. my successors came to relieve
me. I blew out the lantern and walked home in broad daylight.
The boys looked very sheepish when they learned what had happened, but
as I did not boast of my exploit, merely taking it as a matter of
course, they had no way of approaching the subject, and like many other
things of the kind, it was soon forgotten in the pursuing of our
onerous daily tasks, and the moral anxiety we were experiencing.
There seemed to be no end to the fruit season that summer. The lengthy
table in the servants' hall was literally covered with glasses
containing jam and jelly of every description, awaiting their paper
lids. Nini said there were over five hundred--to me it seemed
thousands, and I was heartily glad of a lull before the hospital should
open. And I remember distinctly that the last thing I prepared was some
thirty quarts of black currant brandy; that is to say, I had poured the
raw alcohol on to the fruit and set the jars aside to await completion
six months later! Shortly afterwards I received word by a roundabout
route from Soissons that I might expect my trained nurses and supplies
at any moment. In the meantime I was without word from H. since that
eventful meeting a week before.
Saturday, the fifteenth of August, was as little like a religious fete
day as one can imagine. At an early hour the winnowing machine rumbled
up the road to the square beside the chateau. Under the circumstances
each one must take his turn at getting in his wheat and oats, and there
was no choice of day or hour. Besides, the village had already been
called on to furnish grain and fodder for the army, and the harvest must
be measured and declared at once. This only half concerned me, for my
hay was already in the lofts before the war began, and two elderly men
who had applied for work as bunchers, had been engaged for the last week
in August.
After service at Charly, I walked across to the post office. The post
mistress and telegraph operator, a delightful provincial maiden lady,
always welcomes me most cordially, and at present I fancied she might
have some news that had not yet reached Villiers. (Mind you, since the
second of August we had had but two newspapers, and those obtained with
what difficulty!) The _bureau_ now belonged to the army, and for a
fortnight Mademoiselle Maupoix and her two young girl assistants had
hardly had time to sleep, so busy were they transmitting ciphered
dispatches, passing on orders, etc. It was to this physical exhaustion
that I attributed the swollen countenance of my little friend when she
opened the door to her private sitting-room. It was evident she had
something to tell, but her exquisite breeding forbade that she go
headlong into her subject, before having graciously inquired for my
health, my husband and news of us both since last we met.
"And the war, Mademoiselle, do you know anything about what has
happened?"
Two great tears swelled to Mademoiselle's eyes, which, however, bore a
triumphant expression.
"Madame--the French flag is flying over Mulhouse--but it cost fifteen
thousand lives! That is official news. I cannot give you further
details nor say how I obtained what I have told you."
Then the armies had met and war was now a bloody reality!
I shuddered. Here was news of a victory and all we could do was weep!
Once again the sons of France had generously shed their blood to
reconquer their righteous belongings!
I left Mademoiselle and rode home in silence. Should I tell the
villagers? Why not? But how?
The question answered itself, for as we approached the town hall I saw
the school master and a number of elderly men seated on the bench beside
the chain. When we pulled up to give Cesar breathing spell, they all
came clustering around the carriage. Did I know anything? Had I heard
anything?
"Gentlemen," I said, with a decided huskiness in my throat, "the French
flag flies over, Mulhouse, but fifteen thousand men are _hors de
combat!_"
Joy, followed almost instantaneously by an expression of sorrow,
literally transfigured all their faces. Tears sprang to the eyes of
several, falling silently down their furrowed cheeks, and without
uttering a word, as one man they all uncovered! The respect for the
glorious dead immediately abolished any desire for boisterous triumph.
There was no necessity to add any comment, so I continued my route to
the chateau.
One night towards the end of the following week, I was awakened by the
banging of doors and the shattering of window panes. A violent storm
had suddenly blown up and the wind was working havoc with unfastened
blinds and shutters. There was no use thinking of holding a candle or a
lamp. Besides, the lightning flashed so brightly that I was able to
grope my way through the long line of empty rooms, tighten the
fastenings, and shut the windows. I had reached the second story
without mishap and without hearing the slightest footstep within doors.
All my little servants were so exhausted that even the thunder had not
roused them. Presently, however, the sound of the gate bell broke on my
ears.
"Pooh," thought I. "Some tree or branch has fallen on the wire. Catch
me getting wet going out to see what it is."
The ringing continued, but more violently. And at regular intervals. I
went down to the middle window and stuck my head out. At the same
moment, my dogs made one wild rush towards the gate and a woman's voice
called, "_Madame Huard, ouvrez, s'il vous plait!_"
By the light of another flash, I could distinguish a dripping figure in
white. "Bah! someone is ill or dying and wants me to telephone for a
doctor!"
So I pulled the bell communicating with the servants' quarters, threw on
a few warmer clothes, and went below. At the foot of the stairs I came
upon George and Leon much disheveled, but wide awake.
"There is someone in distress at the gate," I hurriedly explained. "Call
off the dogs and go and see who it is. I'll light up in the refectory
and wait for you there."
They obeyed, and in the course of three or four minutes returned,
bringing with them a much-bedraggled but smiling woman on whose coat was
pinned the Red Cross medal.
"I'm the trained nurse. Madame Macherez sent me here to help with your
hospital."
"Oh! I'm sure you're welcome, Madame--"
"Guix is my name. I received my orders to join you here three days ago,
and communications are so bad that I've come most of the way on foot. I
humbly apologize for arriving at such an hour and in such a state."
I hurried Madame Guix off to her apartment, told the boys to wake Julie
and have her send us a cup of tea and some refreshments in my little
drawing-room. Though it was the middle of August, the rain and dampness
were so penetrating that I did not hesitate to touch a match to a
brushwood fire that is always prepared in my grate. In a short time my
guest reappeared and as she refreshed herself, I busily plied her with
questions concerning the events of the last two weeks.
Madame Guix, a woman but little over thirty, came from Choisy-le-Roi
(the city of famous Rouget de l'Isle). _Merciere_ by trade, on the
death of husband and baby she had adopted the career of _infirmiere_,
and at the outbreak of the war found herself in possession of her
diploma and ready to serve. She had enlisted at the big military
hospital her native town had installed in the school house, and for
three long weeks had sat and waited for something to do.
"Are there no wounded there?"
"Not when I left."
"Have you ever yet had occasion to nurse a soldier?"
"Yes, of course. Four days after the declaration when the Forty-ninth
Territorials came through Choisy on their forced march to the front, we
were suddenly filled up with cases of congestion. You see, that
regiment is Composed of men mostly over forty, and what with the heat,
their guns and their sacs, and unaccustomed to such a life, many of them
couldn't stand the strain. My first patient was a sad little man named
Bouteron.
"Bouteron? What Bouteron?"
"Marcel Bouteron."
"No!"
"Why?"
"Is he dead?"
"No."
I breathed again. Thank God! Bouteron, Bouteron, our Jolly little
Bouteron, gaiety itself, who three weeks ago was the very life and soul
of our last house party! Was it possible? Already "down and out!" And
to think that this strange woman should bring me the news. I drew my
chair nearer to Madame Guix and for two long hours we talked, as only
women can.
From Choisy she had sought to exercise her _métier_ to better advantage
by approaching the front, so had addressed herself to Madame Macherez in
Soissons. From there she had been sent to me. Did she think there was
any possibility of nursing wounded in our hospital? We were so far
south.
She was confident that we would not be empty long. Bloody battles were
being waged from Alsace throughout the entire north. Belgian territory
had been violated and Liege was putting up a heroic defense.
But our doctor and the pharmaceutical products? From where and when
would they arrive? Food and bedding would go a long way, but were
hardly sufficient to start a hospital!
We were to count on Madame Macherez for both. She had promised to do
her utmost to reach us with our supplies, but the rules of circulation
on the roads were so severe that even Red Cross supply cars had to stand
in line and await permits. In the meantime we must organize as best we
could.
The following morning a few moments' intercourse proved to me that
Madame Guix's competence extended far beyond the bounds of her _métier_.
She was a splendid worker, and no task was too difficult, so long as it
furthered our purpose--namely, that of being ready in case of
emergency.
By noon we had decided that it would be useless to count upon my
servants to help in the hospital. They already had all they could do.
So I went and asked our mayor if he knew of any women who, _de bonne
volonte_, would come and assist us. Madame Guix volunteered to teach
them the rudiments of bandaging between two and five on the coming
afternoons, and we would establish a _roulement_ so that the little time
that each disposed of might be properly and efficiently utilized.
The drum beat and made the announcement, and at two the same afternoon
we had the satisfaction of welcoming some twenty women. In the meantime
every bit of old linen I possessed was brought down and put on the
dining room table, then measured and torn in _formes rilglementaires_
ready to be sterilized and put aside. Half a dozen bands were left out
as models and it was with these that Madame Guix commenced her
demonstrations. She soon put her listeners at ease, and presently all
were anxious to try a hand at bandaging. The naive clumsiness of these
poor souls was extremely pathetic, but such was their patriotism that
they never considered themselves ridiculous for a single instant, and
stood there fumbling the long linen rolls with bands that were hands
more accustomed to wielding a spade or directing a plough. Again and
again they would recommence certain difficult proceedings, taking turns
at playing the dummy, and offering as models calves and biceps of which
many an athlete might have been proud.
Of the score of women but two or three really acquired any facility, but
we considered that sufficient, for in time of need the others could
easily be put to work at necessary matters which were of less vital
importance.
From the windows of the dining-room where the _cours_ was held, we could
look down the driveway and see all the children of the neighborhood
standing on the wall of the moat, craning their necks in the hope of
catching a glimpse of what was going on in the chateau. It was
evidently an interesting diversion, for every afternoon they reappeared,
in spite of George's threats to send for the _gendarmes_. The little
demons seemed to know that the gendarmes were too busy to give them any
attention, and I assure you, they profited by their liberty. Little John
Poupard and his five-year-old brother were the leaders of the band, and
I trembled lest some day their curiosity lead to a tragic end!
Nor were my fears in vain, for one afternoon we beard a shriek and a
splash, followed by cries of terror, and we knew for certain that some
one had fallen into the moat. The embankment is not eight feet high,
and at that season of the year there is more mud than water in the
river, so I was certain that whoever had fallen in was in no danger of
drowning--but nevertheless I hastened with the others to the spot.
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."
And so little John Poupard was carried into the infirmary. As first
patient you may be sure that be received every attention. Some ammonia
was held under his nose. This soon brought him around and after
carefully sounding all his bones, Madame Guix decided that there were no
fractures. And the bandaging began!
It makes me smile when I think of it all now--for the only wounds Johnny
possessed were a few scratches on his bands, knees and head, caused by
his sudden contact with a patch of stinging nettles which had sprung up
on the river banks.
Under ordinary circumstances, the child would probably have picked
himself up and walked home, forgetting his woes an hour later. But real
live models who are actually in pain, are few and far between,
especially at "courses" such as ours, and the amount of professional
skill that was expended on that little urchin ought to have cured six of
his kind. But it all made the women so happy!
At the end of half an hour, Johnny Poupard looked more like an Egyptian
mummy than a human being, so much so that when his grandmother arrived
upon the scene of action, she very nearly fainted and all but became
patient number two at Auxiliary Hospital No. 7!
We had some little difficulty reassuring her, but when her prodigal
grandson sat up and asked for bread and jam, she forgot her anxiety and
began scolding him for daring to give her such a fright, and us so much
trouble.
* * * *
Towards the end of the third week in August the mobilization was
considered finished and the Eastern Railroad opened again to the public;
its time tables of course being limited and subject to instant change,
the company refusing to be responsible for delays. To us at the chateau
this meant very little, save that we would receive our mail and the
daily papers more frequently. However, several friends who fancied I
was unsafe alone and so far from the capital, kindly ventured to start
to Villiers to try to persuade me to come up to town. It took them seven
hours to reach Meaux (thirty miles from Paris); they were obliged to
sleep there because it was because it was announced that their train
went no further--and worse than all, they were eighteen hours getting
home.
"Wheren't people furious?" I questioned, when afterwards they told me of
their adventure.
"Not in the slightest. Everyone bore it patiently as part of his
tribute to his country. 'The army first' was their motto."
The first batch of mail brought me any number of stale letters, which
had arrived and been held in Paris over three weeks. Invitations to a
house party in Belgium and things of that kind that seemed so strangely
out of place now. The two most important documents, however, came, one
from my cousin, Marie Huard (Superior at the Convent of the Infant Jesus
at Madrid) and the other from Elizabeth Gauthier.
My cousin had taken upon herself to locate and communicate with every
member of the Huard family called to arms (and they are numerous, when
one considers that H. has no less than twelve married uncles!) and she
enclosed me a sort of map, or family tree, indicating the names, ages,
regiments, etc., of some fifty cousins, begging me to write and
encourage them from time to time.
Elizabeth Gauthier's letter bore a black border--and I trembled as I
opened it. She was in Paris alone, and mourning the loss of her eldest
brother, killed at the battle of Mulhouse, the ninth of August. Her
solitude preyed upon her, and she announced her departure for her
sister's chateau in Burgundy.
That was the first real sadness that the war had brought me so far. It
quite upset me, for Jean Bernard was not only a delightful friend, but
one of the most promising engineers of the younger generation in France.
Both family, friends and country might well deplore such a loss.
Even the making and hoisting of a huge Red Cross flag over the chateau
failed to arouse my enthusiasm all that day. The blow was too cruel and
had stimulated fears which heretofore had lain dormant within me.
The next day, however, I was not permitted to brood over my grief, for
Yvonne (she of the poultry farm) fell ill with a severe attack of
sciatica, which kept her in her bed, every movement producing a scream
of agony.
Of course Madame Guix was there to lend a hand, but that hardly altered
the situation, so I was obliged to ask the boys to give another "pull"
and try to be equal to the work. Lleon accepted with such alacrity
that for the first time it dawned on me that perhaps he had a soft spot
in his heart for my pretty little goose girl, and this unsuspected
romance, interwoven with the joys and anxieties of the moment, seemed
all the more charming.
To cap the climax of misfortune, old Cesar had run a nail into his hoof
and Madame Guix spent most of her time between injections of oxygen on
the first floor, and iodine and flaxseed poultices in the stables. This
of course meant that all errands outside the village must be made on
bicycle, and George was "mustered into service." Towards noon on the
27th he made his first return trip from Charly, bringing the mail and
the papers, and a very excited countenance.
"Madame, I've seen one!" he shouted, as I appeared in the doorway.
"Seen what?"
"_Un casque a' point!_"
"A what!"
"Yes--a pointed helmet. I was standing by the post office in Charly
when a long line of motors passed by on the road to Paris. I recognized
the Belgium uniform, and one of the soldiers leaned out and held up a
German helmet! What a trophy!"
"The Belgians! What on earth are they doing down here?" thought I. And
George guessed my question.
"Oh," he continued, "you see their regiment was cut in two by the
Germans at Charleville and those who escaped managed to get motors and
are on their way home--by a round-about route to Antrwerp via Havre.
The hotel keeper said so. She offered some wine to one motor full that
stopped."
If that were true it was an amazing bit of news! Then things were not
going as well as the now very reticent papers led one to suppose. But
it all seemed so very distant that I refused to worry.
However, I was about to seek out Madame Guix and tell her what George
had reported when an amusing sight caught my eye.
From her open window, towards which she had asked that we push her bed,
Yvonne amused herself by calling her ducklings.
"Bour-ree--bour-ree!"
Then from the farmyard a good two hundred yards distant, would rise the
reply, "Quack! Quack! Quack!"
Big and small recognized the call of their little mistress and hastened
to respond.
"Bouree-bour-ree-bouree!" called Yvonne again and again.
Evidently the ducks decided to hold a consultation and send delegates to
see what on earth prevented their friend from caring for them in person
since they could hear her voice. For as I looked across the lawn
towards the door, imagine my surprise on catching sight of some thirty
or forty Rouenese ducks of all sizes waddling up the steps and into the
vestibule.
"Bour-ree, bouree!" Yvonne continued.
"Quack, quack, quack!" came the reply, and when I reached the entrance
hall, I found them all clustered together at the foot of the staircase,
their beads cocked on one side, awaiting a decision of their drake
before undertaking to mount the marble stairway.
That same afternoon the _cour d'infirmieres_ transported itself to the
lawn in front of the chateau. It was too splendid weather to stay
indoors. The demonstrations were finished and most of the women had
retired, when one of those who remained lifted her finger and asked for
silence. "Listen," she said, "the cannon!" She didn't need to go any
further. In less than a second's time we were straining our ears
towards the east!
"There!" she said, "there it goes again!"
Three of us had heard a sound which strangely resembled the popping of a
cork at a very great distance. Remembering my grandmother's Indian
stories, I stretched out on the grass with my ear to the ground. This
time I heard the rolling so distinctly that my face must have altered,
for two of the woman shuddered and took hasty leave.
In a second I guessed that they were off to tell the news--so I made
light of it by declaring that it must be the trying-out of some heavy
artillery at Chalons; but when Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone,
we looked at each other with interrogation points in our eyes.
We thought of our hospital, of our supplies, of our perfect uselessness
unless Soissons could yet reach us--and I resolved to go down to the
druggist at Charly and see what could be done. The following morning,
Saturday, the twenty-ninth--I betook myself to Charly and there managed
to beg the elements of a rudimentary infirmary from the old pharmacist,
who must have thought me crazy. Absorbent cotton I was able to procure
in small rolled packages from the draper, and promising to send the boys
down in the afternoon with a small band cart, I returned home, without
having observed anything abnormal save the frequent passage of autos
towards Paris--all going top speed and loaded with the queerest
occupants and baggage.
On my return great excitement reigned around our gate, for a private
automobile containing wounded had halted on seeing our Red Cross flag,
and Madame Guix welcomed them in.
They were _petit blesses_, all able to travel, probably suffering more
from heat and privation than from their wounds. They had no orders to
stop, but hoped we would let them rest a bit before going further--and
could we give them something to eat?
All this was very fortunate considering our precarious situation and we
gladly did the best we knew how. There were six poor chaps belonging to
different regiments, but all so tired that it seemed cruel to prevent
their snatching a rest by plying them with questions. We could do that
later on.
The lads were hardly stretched out when another motor drew up before the
gate. This one contained besides three privates a young officer with his
arm in a sling, and he asked if we could give them water. Leon told
them that they would be very welcome if they would care to come in and
rest--there were already a half-dozen wounded asleep in the house. At
these words the lieutenant jumped down and asked for the _medicin-chef_.
He was rather startled when I appeared, and told him that there was no
military authority as yet installed at the chateau.
"Then I must take all the responsibility of the men," he said very
kindly but firmly. "I'm sorry, but they cannot remain here. I must
deliver them safe at some big center outside the zone of operations."
The time had come for questions--and I learned with amazement that Liege
had fallen, Belgium was invaded, and that hard fighting was going on at
St. Quentin, but eighty miles away. "The cannon of yesterday was no
target practice," thought I. The men all seemed so hopeful, though,
that we never felt a qualm.
"As you will, Monsieur," I said, and the weary boys were wakened and
hurried off before we had time to ask names, addresses or any further
details.
All this had transpired so rapidly that we had had no time to call in
our assistants, and presently Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone in
the empty vestibule.