Suddenly a white figure came towards me through the crowded ranks of
soldiers. He extended his arms in token of welcome, and I at once
recognised the Chaplain in his surplice. His face was beaming with
pleasure, and his eyes shone behind his spectacles. He appeared to be
supremely happy.
"This way, _Monsieur l'Officier_, this way. I have thought of
everything. You must have the seat of honour. Follow me."
I followed the holy man, who elbowed a way for me up the crowded aisle.
He had reserved all the choir-stalls for the officers. Before the war
they had been occupied, at high mass, by the clergy, the choir, and the
principal members of the congregation. He proudly showed me into one
of them, and I felt rather embarrassed at finding myself suddenly in a
blaze of light between an artillery lieutenant and a surgeon-major.
The low vestry door now opened and a very unexpected procession
appeared. In front of a bearded priest walked four artillerymen in
uniform. One of them carried a censer, and another the incense-box. The
other two walked in front of them, arms crossed and eyes front. The
whole procession knelt before the altar with perfect precision, and I
saw beneath the priest's vestments muddy gaiters of the same kind as
those worn by the gunners.
At the same time we heard, quite close to us, strains of music which
seemed to us celestial. In the dim light I had not noticed the
harmonium, but now I could distinguish the artist who was enchanting us
by his skill in drawing sweet sounds from a poor worn instrument. He
was an artillery captain. At once all eyes were turned towards him; we
were all enraptured. None of us dared to hope that we should lift our
voices in the hymns.
The organist seemed unconscious of his surroundings. The candle placed
near the keyboard cast a strange light upon the most expressive of
heads. Against the dark background of the church the striking features
of a noble face were thrown into strong relief: a forehead broad and
refined, an aristocratic nose, a fair moustache turned up at the ends,
and, notably, two fine blue eyes, which, without a glance at the
fingers on the keys, were fixed on the vaulted roof as though seeking
inspiration there.
The Chaplain, turning to the congregation, then said:
"My friends, we will all join in singing the _O Salutaris_."
The harmonium gave the first notes, and I braced myself to endure
the dreadful discords I expected from this crowd of soldiers--mostly
reservists--who, I supposed, had come together that evening mainly out
of curiosity.
Judge of my astonishment! At first only a few timid voices joined the
Chaplain's. But after a minute or so a marvel happened. From all those
chests came a volume of sound such as I could hardly have believed
possible. Who will say then that our dear France has lost her Faith?
Who can believe it? Every one of these men joined in singing the hymn,
and not one of them seemed ignorant of the Latin words. It was a
magnificent choir, under a lofty vault, chanting with the fervour of
absolute sincerity. There was not one discordant note, not one voice
out of tune, to spoil its perfect harmony.
Who can believe that men, many of them more than thirty years old,
would remember all the words unless they had been brought up in the
faith of their ancestors and still held it?
I could not help turning to look at them. In the light of the candles
their faces appeared to be wonderfully transfigured. Not one of them
expressed irony or even indifference. What a fine picture it would
have made for a Rembrandt! The bodies of the men were invisible in the
darkness of the nave, and their heads alone emerged from the gloom. The
effect was grand enough to fascinate the most sceptical of painters; it
soothed and charmed one and wiped out all the miseries that the war had
left in its wake. Men like these would be equal to anything, ready for
anything; and I myself should much have liked to see a Monsieur Homais
hidden away in some corner of that church.
Meanwhile the sacred Office was proceeding at the altar. At any other
time we might have smiled at the sight of that soldier-priest served
by choristers of thirty-five in uniform; at that ceremony it was
inexpressibly touching and attractive, and it was especially delightful
to see how carefully and precisely each performed his function that the
ceremony might not lack its accustomed pomp.