At this noted banquet there were several generals present, some of whom had been in the service but a short time previous, and one of them famous the world over. We were not permitted to mention the names of any of the generals we met while in the war zone.

XII.

WITHIN SOUND OF THE GUNS

ON Wednesday, October 4th, we left for the front in military automobiles. We passed through a farming district and through several small villages. Nearly all who were at work in the fields were women. It all seemed quite peaceful, considering that the battle fields were so near. We stopped at Monte Billiard, in the Champagne district, where we were addressed by the mayor and a response was made by Mr. Pfeiffer. Cuvier, the great French scientist, was born here in the year 1769, and died in 1832. We were now, as I should have mentioned before, in that part of Alsace-Lorraine again in possession of the French. We visited at Monte Billiard, a Fifteenth century castle and a new hospital. Red Cross girls were very much in evidence, a number of them American and English. We were quartered at the Hotel de la Balanie, built in 1790. We visited the factory of Japy Freres. This concern makes a specialty of steel helmets, canteens and porcelain ware for the use of the army.

We arrived at Beaucort at midnight, and after settling down to rest, were awakened by the booming of cannon, which was continuous during the night. We were aroused the following morning by the town crier, passing along the street, wearing a peculiar uniform, beating a drum and calling out the news.

At Beaucort we were shown through a castle now occupied as a hospital. It was originally a chateau, and at that time a citadel with moat and draw-bridge.

In company with Mr. Warren, I visited the village blacksmith, being reminded of my boyhood days. He had old-fashioned bellows and, with an assistant, was in a small way finishing up some work for the army.

We arrived at Belfort at about noon, and first saw the "Belfort Lion" by Bartholdi, the sculptor of the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor. It is seventy-three feet long, forty-three feet high and is carved in a cliff below the citadel. This statue celebrates the stubborn resistance of the town of Belfort, which has never surrendered, although besieged on numerous occasions. Belfort has been exposed to German guns, less than ten miles away, for two years, and it is much shattered from bombardments. Many of the citizens are still engaged in their ordinary pursuits, but live in the cellars of their domiciles.

We were quartered at the Le Grande Hotel, and could hear the cannons roaring as we sat at luncheon. We were warned not to go out of the hotel without a companion. There was a cave underneath with both an inside and an outside entrance and we were told that in case the shelling was resumed we should get into this cave. There had been, however, no shelling for eight days. The town was shelled immediately after the departure of the Canadian Industrial Commission, which had recently visited Belfort.

[Illustration: The Lion of Belfort.]

The shutters of the hotel were closed at six P. M. I was taken to my room by the chambermaid and handed a candle and a box of matches. With all the lights of the hotel out, the cannon could be heard booming during the entire night. Belfort is under martial law, or, as it is called in France, military control. Just before retiring for the night we were reminded that the city was frequently shelled and that nearly all the inhabitants slept in the caves, a pleasant thought to go to bed with. However, strange to say, I had a most excellent night's rest.

No one was permitted outside the hotel unless he had with him a card to show the police of the town.

Belfort contains numerous monuments. One series of statues is of three generals who defended Belfort during the three sieges successfully resisted. Two of these sieges occurred during the time of Napoleon and one during the Franco-Prussian war, 1870-1871. We walked about in a body, escorted by a military officer and a number of soldiers. We visited a large part of the city and at nearly every corner there were signs showing the entrances to caves and stating the number of persons each cave would hold—all the way from twenty to seventy. Evidence was all around of bombs dropped from aeroplanes by the Germans and shells fired by them from many miles away, there being hundreds of shattered windows and holes in the sidewalks.

We remained in Belfort two nights. The morning after our departure the city was bombarded and some fifteen or twenty people killed.

On Friday, October 6th, we left Belfort in the military autos, under sealed orders, and knew not where we were going. We passed several squads of German prisoners, among them one very large company. We were frequently challenged by sentinels in passing, for miles, along the front of Alsace-Lorraine.

Alsace-Lorraine has had forty-five years of German rule. The elder people are not Germanized, and it is quite evident that France will not be satisfied until the whole province has been restored.

We stopped for luncheon at Remiremont, in the Vosges mountains, and while here visited an old church dating back to the Eleventh century. This church contained, among other things, a statue of the Virgin Mary carved in cedar, the gift to the church of Charlemagne. There is also at this place a Thirteenth century arcade, through which we passed. We bought a few relics and then left Remiremont at 4:30 P. M. for a dash into Alsace and close up to the battle-front.

We arrived at Bussane at 5 P. M., after being held up several times. We next reached Thann, a village once in German hands and two miles from the German lines. This town had been bombarded by the Germans early in the war. The destruction was fearful to look at; buildings were damaged beyond repair, and one church nearly ruined. As we passed along in a dense fog, one of the guides ran past each machine saving; "Shentlemen, this is a beautiful sight, but you can't see it."

At Thann we were shown the spot where the son of Prime Minister Borthon, of France, was killed by a bomb.

After an inspection of Thann, we drove to Gerardmere to spend the night. It was bright moonlight and we were told there was a great deal of danger from German aeroplanes. This was a long night ride, but considered much safer than going through this part of the country in day-light.

We experienced great difficulty in getting back to the French line from Alsace-Lorraine. In doing so we passed through a tunnel entering Alsace-Lorraine territory, within a half-mile of the German firing line. We saw a hill which has been taken and retaken a number of times and was then in possession of the Germans. We were exposed to the German guns for half an hour and could hear the roaring constantly. At this point the soldier chauffeurs put on steel helmets and placed revolvers near their right hands, taking from boxes in the machine a number of hand grenades. This was all very cheerful for the occupants of the car to witness, inasmuch as we did not have any helmets or hand grenades or anything else which would enable us to help ourselves in case of conflict.

We reached Gerardmere in time for dinner and stopped over night at the Hotel de la Providence. This was a most interesting French village. We were called the advance guard of tourists and were really the first to have visited the place. Signs of war could be seen everywhere. We saw here pontoon wagons. We also saw immense loads of bread being hauled around in army wagons and looking like loads of Bessemer paving block. During the night of our stay in Gerardmere, we were awakened by the booming of cannons.

We left Gerardmere, going north and, passing a hill named "Bonhomme", over which French and Germans have fought back and forward. It is now in possession of both forces, armies being entrenched on either side of the hill and within one mile of the summit.

We passed through a number of small villages completely riddled; one village had but a single house left untouched.

Our next stop was at St. Die. This is the village where the word "Amerique" was first used in France. A tablet recalls this circumstance, the wording on it being as follows:

Leaving St. Die we began a trip of more than fifty miles along the battle front. This trip required two days, and we were never beyond the sound of the guns.

Our first stop was at the battlefield of La Chipotte, where was fought one of the most sanguinary of the earlier battles of war, resulting in a great French victory, but entailing terrific losses on both sides. In the greater part of this region we saw forests which had been stripped by shells and the trees of which were only beginning to grow again. In some places they will never grow, having been stripped of every leaf and limb and finally burned by the awful gunfire.

The battle of La Chipotte was fought in 1914. Sixty thousand French drove back a larger army of Germans after several days of fighting. The French loss was thirty thousand, and no one knows what the German loss amounted to. The woods are filled with crosses marking burial places, where often as many as fifty bodies were entombed together. The French buried their dead separately from the German dead, but the community graves are all marked in the same way—with a simple cross. Some of these crosses recite the names of the companies engaged, but few of them give the names of the dead. Most of them simply record the number of French or Germans buried beneath.

At a central part of the battlefield the French have erected a handsome monument, with the following inscription:

After leaving the battlefield of La Chipotte, we next reached the village of Roan Estape. It was full of ruins and practically deserted. Beyond this village we passed for miles along roads lined on either side with the crosses which indicate burial places of soldiers. The battle front here extended for a long distance and the fighting was bloody along the whole line. Much of this righting was done in the old way, trench warfare having only just begun.

[Illustration: Battlefield of La Chipotte, Showing Monument and Markers on Graves.]

Next we came to Baccarat, where nearly all the houses and the cathedral were utterly wrecked. For twenty miles beyond this town we passed along the battle front of the Marne, within three miles of where the main struggle had taken place, and saw everywhere graves and signs of destruction. It was surprising how the country had begun to resume its normal aspect and green things begun to take hold again. Our next stop was Rambevillers, where we had luncheon at the Hotel de la Porte.

XIII.

THE STORY OF GERBEVILLER

AFTER luncheon at Rambevillers, we drove to the famous village of Gerbeviller—or rather to what is left of it. This little town is talked of more than any other place in France, and is called the "Martyr City". Its story is one of the most interesting told us, and to me it seemed one of the most tragic, although the residents of the town all wanted to talk about it with pride. While on the way to Gerbeviller we had to show our passes, and it was lucky they were signed by General Joffre, since nothing else goes so close to the front. We were made to tell where we were going, how long we meant to stay, and what route we would take coming back.

Prefect Mirman, of the Department of Meurthe and Moselle, one of the most noted and most useful men in France, escorted the commission on this trip.

Gerbeviller is located near the junction of the valleys of Meurthe and Moselle, and occupied a strategic situation at the beginning of the war. This and the heroic defense made of the bridge by a little company of French soldiers, was, the French believe, responsible for its barbarous treatment by the Germans. In the other ruined towns the destruction was wrought by shell fire. Here the Germans went from house to house with torches and burned the buildings after resistance had ceased and they were in full possession of the town. The French say it was done in wanton revenge and it looks as if that were true. Here is the story as it was told to us in eager French and interpreted for us by one of the party.

A bridge leading from the town crosses the river to a road which goes straight up a long hill to a main highway leading to Luneville, five miles away. We passed over this bridge and were asked to note its width—only enough to permit the passage of one car at a time. Two roads converge at it and lead to the little town.

During one of the important conflicts an army of 150,000 Germans was sent around by way of Luneville to cross the river at Gerbeviller and fall upon the right flank of the French army. The French had been able to spare but few troops for this point, but they had barricaded the streets of the town and posted a company of chasseurs, seventy-five in number, at the bridge with a mitralleuse. This was an excellent position, as there was a small building there which screened the chasseurs from view.

[Illustration: Ruins of Gerbeviller.]

At 8 o'clock in the morning the German advance body, twelve thousand strong, appeared at the intersection of the road near the top of the hill across the river. They advanced in solid formation, marching in the goose step and singing, to the music of a band, their war hymn, "Deutchland Uber Alles." It was a beautiful morning and the sun glistened on the German helmets as they came down the slope, an apparently innumerable army. In this form they reached the end of the bridge opposite to where the chasseurs were located. The captain of that little band of French ordered them to halt, and they did so, the rear ranks closing up on those in front before the order could be passed along by their commander.

In a moment, however, the column began to move again and then the captain of the chasseurs waved his hand and the mitralleuses opened on the advancing host. The range was point blank and there was absolutely no protection. The hail of bullets mowed down the Germans and they broke ranks, fleeing back up the hill and out of range.

All was quiet for half an hour and then a detachment of cavalry, evidently ordered to rush the bridge, came down at a gallop, having been formed in the shelter of a road branching off the main highway a short distance from the bridge. They were met by a hail of bullets and nearly all went down before they reached the bridge, while the few who did so fell on it or tumbled, with their horses, into the river.

The whole German force was delayed until a battery could be brought up from the rear and trained on the small building sheltering the chasseurs and their machine guns. For some reason, the gunners could not get the range on this small building, and after firing a few shots in its direction, turned their guns on the magnificent chateau, a short distance down the river. At this point there was a small foot bridge, and the German commander evidently meant to try to rush it. Before doing so, however, he was going to make certain that the Chateau, which commanded it, did not conceal another band of defenders. This seems to be the only explanation for the bombardment of the Chateau, which was one of the finest country homes in France and entirely unoccupied. At any rate, they fired shell after shell at the building. I secured a picture of this which shows the work of the guns.

But, as the French tell the story, no effort was then made to cross the foot bridge below the town. A battery was swung down the hill to the end of the bridge, apparently to shell the defenders from that point. The machine guns barked again and every man with the battery fell. Scores more were killed before it could be withdrawn and the way cleared. Owing to the steep banks it seemed hard for the Germans to locate a battery in an unexposed position, and they considered again. Finally they shelled the Chateau some more and then sent a detachment to take that bridge, expecting to get around in the rear of the chasseurs. A machine gun had been sent to the footbridge in the meantime, and the Germans did not get across it until the ammunition ran out and two hundred of them were killed. When they did cross, the little band at the main bridge, of whom one had been killed and six wounded, retreated to the main army, and then the Germans crossed in force and started to burn the town.

The heroes of the bridge had held the German advance guard, numbering 12,000 men, from 8 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon, and in the meantime the great battle they had expected to win had been fought and lost.

Naturally the Germans were angry, and apparently they vented their spleen upon the village. The great Chateau, its pride and chief attraction, had been destroyed, but the conquerors at once begun to burn the little town, evidently determining to reserve only enough to make a place for headquarters for their general. They did burn it, but not so completely as they had intended.

[Illustration: Sister Julie.]

Here is where Sister Julie comes in. Sister Julie is the most popular woman in France as well as the most famous. We heard of her long before we got to Gerbeviller and long after we left, but we were not fortunate enough to meet her, as she was away at the time the Commission reached the town. Although a member of a religious order, she has been decorated with the grand cross of the Legion of Honor—the highest decoration France confers upon her heroes. To pin this on her habit President Poincaire journeyed all the way from Paris with his suite, and now Sister Julie will not wear it. She says that religeuse do not wear decorations—they are doing the work of the Lord.

In describing Sister Julie and her work the people of Gerbeviller are even more enthusiastic than in recounting the manner in which seventy-five Frenchmen stopped twelve thousand Germans. It seems that when the German forces crossed the bridge and began to burn the houses they met with little resistance until they came to the convent where Sister Julie and her companions had a house filled with wounded, including the wounded chasseurs. The sister met them at the door and defied them to burn her convent. She ordered them off and made a such a show of determination that they went. No, they will tell you, these French people, Sister Julie is not an Amazon. She is a little woman. Her voice is usually mild and sweet and she smiles all the time. But when they tried to burn her temporary hospital, it was different. She scared them off and they did not come back.

Not only that, but she made the Germans carry water and put out the fires they had started in the neighborhood, and made them fill wash tubs with water and leave them in her hall, so they would be handy if more fires threatened.

Besides that, she organized the men and went to the barns where cattle had been burned and had these dressed and the meat prepared for use. Then she made great kettles of soup and fed the people who had no homes and nothing to eat. In all of this she defied the Germans and told their commander to mind his own business—she was going to attend to hers. When some of the German soldiers came and wanted to take the food prepared for the homeless people, Sister Julie ordered them away and made them go.

There were five other nuns in this convent. Under the leadership of this heroine they did a tremendous amount of good in the stricken community. They used the building next door to the convent for a hospital and there cared for hundreds of wounded soldiers. They assumed charge of the demoralized town and kept the people from starving. No one gives them greater credit than Prefect Mirman, who has also done great work in his department.

We were shown through the convent and hospital under the care of these sisters, and saw many places where bullets had penetrated the walls, these were fired by the Germans after they crossed the bridge. In this hospital the sisters cared for the German wounded as tenderly as for the French, and they won the respect of the invaders in this way, otherwise it would have probably been impossible for them to do the work they did. We saw the camp chair on which Sister Julie sat all night in front of the hospital and kept the Germans out.

The Commission spent the greater part of the day in Gerbeviller, visiting the bridge where the seventy-five chasseurs held up the German advance, as well as that where one lone chasseur—a regular "Horatio at the Bridge", kept back the attacking party at the Chateau.

We went through this chateau, which is owned by a resident of Paris and was one of the sights of the village. It is seven or eight hundred years old and is a very large building, handsomely finished in the interior. Before the bombardment, which was a ruthless and unnecessary piece of vandalism, it contained many fine tapestries and countless precious heirlooms of the Bourbon times. The great strength of the walls resisted the effects of artillery, but the interior was entirely ruined by fire. The grand marble staircase was splintered, but the Bourbon coat of arms above it was not touched. Strewn about in corners and on the floors were fragments of vases and art work that must have been priceless. Even these fragments were valuable. We secured a number of small pieces, some of which I brought home as relics.

While viewing the ruins of the chateau we could hear the guns booming. It was while we were still here that we received news that bombs had been dropped on Belfort that morning, twenty-four hours after we left that place, and that a number of persons had been killed, among them some women and children.

Gerbeviller is an almost complete ruin. Beyond the convent and hospital, and a few buildings saved for headquarters for the commanding general by the Germans, all the rest of the town was destroyed. The people who remain there are living in temporary buildings or mere sheds built on the ruins of their homes, which they do not want to leave under any circumstances. This little town, which has won its place in history, was one of the most interesting and melancholy sights we saw in all France.

On the following day, Saturday, October 7th, we visited the villages of Luneville and Vitrimont. We were now in the "devastated region" for sure. On every hand was evidence of the ruin wrought by shells, with long lines of trenches that had once been filled with soldiers. Some of these were green again, but the trees presented a woeful appearance.

The next stop after leaving Rambevillers was the little town of Vitrimont. This is a small village in France, almost wholly ruined by the Germans in 1914, preceding the battle of the Marne. We found there Miss Daisy Polk, of San Francisco, a wealthy, young and attractive woman, whose work is being financed largely by the Crockers, of San Francisco.

She is living in one of the small houses untouched by the Germans. She has undertaken the rebuilding of the village of Vitrimont as a modern sanitary proposition and to serve as a model for what may be done in rebuilding all the destroyed parts of France. She is the great-granddaughter of President Polk. It is a splendid work and should receive support.

I have since received the following letter from Miss Polk:

Vitrimont, par Luneville, Meurthe et Moselle, France.
October 18th, 1916

Dear Mr. Butler:—

Your note, with the Commission booklet, received and I want to thank you for remembering me. The visit of the Industrial Commission was a most delightful surprise to me here in the midst of my ruins and it is very nice to have a souvenir—especially such a nice souvenir, with all the names and photographs.

Vitrimont looks very much as it did when you were here except that the work is a little more advanced in spite of the rain. We are not hoping any longer that the war will end this winter—so we are sad. Especially when we have to see our men go back to the front after their all too short leaves. This has happened three times since you were here, all three going back to the Somme, too, which they all say is much worse than Verdun ever was. However, they have the satisfaction, as one of our men said today, (a fine industrious farmer) of hoping that if they don't come back, at least their wives and children will have their homes rebuilt. This is my hope too. Thanking you again for your letter.

Very sincerely yours,

(Signed) DAISY POLK.

Miss Polk is a most charming young woman, filled with enthusiasm. She lives in a small house with but two rooms.

XIV.

ON THE MAIN FRONT

WE arrived at Nancy October 7th, at six o'clock P. M. and spent the evening at a reception given by the Prefect L. Mirman. We met here Madam Mirman and her two daughters. In the entrance to the prefect's residence were several large holes which had been blown out by the German shells. During the reception we were shown an embroidered sheet, filled with holes. This was taken from the window of a hospital, fired on by the Germans, July, 1916. The name of the hospital was Point Au Mousson. The sheet was hanging in a window when the shrapnel was fired into it. This was considered ample proof that the hospital was fired upon with the full knowledge that it was a hospital.

This visit to prefect Mirman's home was a red letter event in our trip. He is one of the important men of France and is devoting much of his time to the care of refugees and other good work.

As we stopped at the entrance of Nancy, we saw an aeroplane flying over the town. This aeroplane was intended to convoy us to our destination.

Next day we were driven to the village of Luneville. At this place, as in nearly all the towns of France, there is a public market house, with stalls usually presided over by women. Late in September the Germans dropped from aeroplanes a number of bombs on this market house. The entire building was destroyed and forty-one women killed, besides a number of children who were playing about. We saw the ruins of the market house. This sort of battle waging is called "German terrorism", otherwise, a "stepping stone to kultur".

There is an immense palace in Luneville called the Palace of Stanislaus, occupied by a former King of Poland.

Our headquarters were at Nancy, where we remained for two days. We were shown every possible attention by the prefect and under his guidance visited various parts of the city. Among other places "The Golden Gates" of Louis XVI and the gate of the old town erected in 1336. We visited the park and were shown a hole where a German shell had penetrated, the hole being fully fifty feet deep. We visited the cathedral of St. Elme and were shown where the beautiful stained glass had been blown out of the windows. We visited the Ducal Chapel, which dates back to the Tenth century, where the princes of the House of Hapsburg are entombed. Sand bags were piled up everywhere to prevent further ruin to this ancient place. We were shown the ruins of the cooking school reported by German aviators as a military building and for that reason destroyed.

[Illustration: Cathedral at Nancy.]

Practically one-half of the town is in ruins. The military barracks are now used for housing and caring for refugees from all over France and this is done with great system. The expense is figured down to one franc per day for each person. We saw there a children's school, playground, orphanage and Cinema show, and attended church services at which were present several thousand refugees. We could hear the cannon booming during the entire services. Many of the refugees were at work making bags for the trenches and embroidering. We visited the museum and were shown tombs and urns dating back to the Second century. During a luncheon at the Cafe Stanislaus an impassioned address was made by the prefect.

We left Nancy at 2 P. M. for Chalons on the Marne, one of the three important military supply centers of France. En-route we passed a number of ruined villages with scarcely a house left and with but few inhabitants. We passed through Bar Le Duc also, another distributing center. On this memorable part of the journey we skirted three battle fronts, Verdun, Somme and the Marne. We noticed numerous trench soldiers in squads, enroute to and from the trenches.

The discipline of the French army is very much different from that of the English and Germans. The officers and the French soldiers are comrades. The German and French soldiers have no tents, they sleep in their overcoats. I expected that when we got into the war zone we would see tents everywhere, but there was not a tent in sight.

The distance from Nancy to Chalons on the Marne is 108 miles. All this distance we travelled close in the rear of the French army and much of it near the German army. In the early part of the year this ground was occupied by the Germans, being afterwards retaken by the French. We were closest to the trenches when passing St. Miheil, where the famous German salient was still held.

We reached Chalons on the Marne at 10 o'clock on the evening of October 8th, after a busy and most interesting day. We were quartered here for the night and remained part of the next morning. During our stay we could hear the booming of guns continuously, and saw many evidences of military occupation. At this time the Germans had been forced back about thirty miles from Chalons on the Marne, and their shells were no longer feared in this immediate vicinity. The cannon we heard along the greater portion of the route after passing Bar Le Duc must have been French guns, although the German big guns can be heard for fifty miles under favorable circumstances.

At Chalons on the Marne an incident occurred which made a deep impression on me, although it was in itself simple enough. It was my custom to go about much seeking to see whatever was to be seen at all of our stops. Usually I had a companion, but sometimes went alone. On this occasion Mr. Warren, of the Commission, was with me. We had entered the Cathedral of Notre Dame, to inspect its interior and arrived just as a funeral service was ending. It was one of those pathetic funerals, now common enough in France, at which the body is not present, in this case being that of a young man killed in the army and evidently an only son.

The services ended with a procession around the church and this brought the mourners to where we were. We fell in with them, this being our natural impulse and also, we believed, the proper and courteous thing to do, rather than to rudely retire. When the party reached the main aisle, the friends gathered around the father and mother and two daughters, weeping with them and kissing them in the demonstrative way the French have of showing both grief and affection. Before we knew just what to do, the mourners melted away, taking with them the mother and daughters. Mr. Warren also had disappeared and I was left practically alone with the father of the dead boy. He approached me and extended his hand, having perhaps read in my face something of my feelings. He knew no English and I knew no French, but the language of human sympathy is universal. We grasped hands and the only word uttered was my crude "Americaine." None other was needed. I could tell by the pressure of the hand holding mine that my sympathy was appreciated, even though I was from across the seas and an utter stranger, and any doubts I had felt about the propriety of remaining were thoroughly dispelled.

[Illustration: German Trenches Captured by the French.]

Funerals such as this are very frequent in France. Scarcely a family but has suffered its loss, and in some cases several sons have been taken from one home. Among the hundreds of personal cards brought back with me from France, an astonishing number are bordered deeply with black. These are the cards of the most prominent people in the places we visited, the members of the Commission having met few others, and the mourning border on so many of them shows that in France as well as in England, the upper classes have borne their full share of the terrific toll levied by the war.

Before leaving Chalons on the Marne we visited the canal, the banks of which were lined with flowers and ivy. We crossed here a bridge built in the Seventeenth century and still in good condition.

XV.

REIMS AND THE TRENCHES

SOME time during the forenoon of the day following our arrival at Chalons on the Marne we left in the military automobiles for Reims. This city is on the south branch of the river Aisne, on which the Germans made their stand after the battle of the Marne, and had been within reach of their guns constantly since they stopped retreating after that battle. It is about ninety miles from Paris. The city was at that time less than two miles from the actual battle line, trenches extending close up to its edges. The Germans were very busy and there was abundant evidence of the fact in the sound of cannon. It was here that we were to be allowed a visit to the trenches.

On the way we passed a large number of Hindu-Chinese and Russian soldiers. We saw two captive balloons, used by the French to direct artillery fire on their enemies. Thousands of soldiers were coming and going between the trenches and the encampments behind.

On this trip we passed through and stopped briefly at an aviation camp, where the aviators were tending their machines and waiting to be called for duty in the air. A short stop was also made at a large encampment, where there must have been at least twenty thousand French soldiers. This was the largest number we saw at any one time. Here we were shown concealed trenches and batteries so skillfully hidden that they could not be seen until you were right upon the guns. We also saw on this ride several illustrations of how bridges and other military works can be hidden from aviators by painted scenery and the use of trees. By 11 A.M. of this day we had come within five miles of the German trenches, behind which, we were told, were more two million German soldiers and across from them at least an equal number of French. Of this vast number of warriors we saw at no time more than twenty thousand. Many were in the trenches and others in encampments on both sides, within easy reach of the lines but secure from gun fire.

We came to the top of a ridge near Reims, and just before reaching the summit orders were given by the sentinels to separate the automobiles and run them half a mile apart, as they would be within range of German guns and might draw the fire if seen in a company. At this point two members of the Commission suddenly lost their interest in the scenes ahead and refused to go any further. From this time until we entered Reims, batteries, many of them concealed, with other signs of real war, became more numerous.

[Illustration: The Reims Cathedral Before Its Destruction.]

At 11:30 A. M. we entered the famous Champagne district, known all over the world as the locality where grapes for making champagne can be raised better than anywhere else. We saw here farmers and women working in the fields and vineyards within a mile of the actual front. They were within range of German guns and in great danger, but they worked on, seemingly careless of the fact.

We passed many "dugouts" occupied by soldiers, and saw soldiers digging trenches. All the time the guns were roaring, apparently just beyond the city of Reims. This ground had all been at one time in the hands of the Germans.

We reached Reims at noon and were taken direct to the City Club. Here the Commission was entertained by Robert Lewthwaite, the head of the great wine firm of Heidsick & Company. At this luncheon we met Col. Tautot, chief of staff under General Lanquelot, commander in the Reims sector. Col. Tautot represented his superior, who could not be present, probably because of more important engagements with the Germans. We also met Captain Talamon, a staff officer, and Jacques Regnier, sub-prefect of the Reims district. Col. Tautot had been invested with the ribbon of the Legion of Honor and within a week of our visit had been in active service. Out of fifteen members originally on the staff, he alone survived, all the others having been killed in action or died of wounds.

In the room where luncheon was served at the City Club was a great hole, made through the wall by a shell and not yet closed. We were told that this shell had arrived a few days before our visit. This was quite appetizing information, but our hosts assured us that we were comparatively safe, as there had been no firing for some time. I took their word for it and enjoyed the luncheon after the long and keenly interesting ride. At this luncheon a curious toast was offered by the host—"I looks toward you." The proper response was—"I likewise bows."

After the luncheon Colonel Tautot and the sub-prefect led the Commission to inspect the ruined cathedral. This was a pitiful and fascinating sight. This once famous cathedral is practically a wreck. I doubt very much if it can ever be restored. We were taken into the interior and were shown how wonderful stained glass windows had been blown out. We picked up a number of the pieces of fine glass from the ground. The making of this glass is a lost art and the coloring is most beautiful. I brought home some of the glass and had it used as settings for a number of rings which I presented to friends. The sub-prefect presented me, as a relic, a bone—the front part of a forearm. This cathedral was the burying place of number of archbishops and ancient royal personages, and all these tombs were blown up.

[Illustration: Ruins at Reims. Upper and Lower Plates—The Cathedral. Middle Plate—The Archbishop's Palace.]

Adjoining the cathedral was the archbishop's palace, famous the world over, and its contents priceless. This was utterly destroyed. One of our party, in looking about the ruins, picked up a large sized key, which proved afterwards to be the key to the archbishop's residence. He was given permission by the sub-prefect to retain this, and I subsequently acquired it.

We also visited the market place and the old Notre Dame church built in 1149 by Charlemagne. This was a most beautiful church, the windows almost equalling those of the Cathedral of St. Elme at Nancy, but inferior to those in the Reims cathedral, said to have been the most beautiful in the world. In this church we saw a statue of Jeanne D'Arc, and a very fine painting of the "Ascension".

We were taken to the city hospital at Reims, which had been fired upon and almost completely destroyed by the Germans while occupied by French wounded. The range was obtained by the aviators, and then incendiary bombs were fired. These bombs set fire to the buildings with which they came in contact. We were told that hundreds of French soldiers were killed with this mode of warfare. We could hear the bombs on the Aisne front exploding while we were visiting the ruins of the hospital. We were next shown around to view the ruins of the town. Twenty-five hundred acres of houses were almost blown to pieces. We were told that thousands of bodies of men, women and children were still under the ruins. In an isolated part of these ruins, absolutely alone, we found and talked to an old French woman, still occupying her house. She had refused to move and insisted upon staying in her little home, one or two rooms having been left.

Following this visit to the ruins we were permitted to enter the trenches. A number of the party did not go to the end of the trenches. However, I concluded to see all there was to be seen, and with Deputy Damour and Mr. MacArthur, went, escorted by a staff officer detailed for that duty, to the extreme limit. We went through the trenches to within one thousand feet of the German firing lines. We could see the German sentinels through periscopes, and were told to be careful and not show our heads, which admonition was religiously obeyed.

This visit to the trenches was one of the most interesting parts of the trip, and in spite of the danger, I was very glad that I had gone and had nerve enough to go to the limit. We entered what is known as a "communication" trench, leading from the edge of the city toward the front. This was necessary, as the terrain was open and under range of the German guns. Going down through this long trench we encountered a network of others, apparently leading in all directions. Our guide knew them well and led us forward until we could, by means of a contrivance for that purpose, look over the top and see the German trenches, less than one thousand yards away. We saw few German soldiers, although occasionally we were shown where a sentinel was on duty, carefully concealed to save himself from French bullets.

The trenches in this section are irregular in width and depth. As a general thing they are not more than three feet wide at the bottom and about five feet deep. The earth is thrown up at the side next to the enemy. At short intervals along the trench holes are scooped out, into which the soldiers can go when fighting is not actually in progress. Some of these caves were quite large and had in them straw and sometimes a bench. There were cooking utensils and buckets for water. The bottoms of the trenches are generally dry, or were when we saw them. In some places they have boards on the bottom. The sides are steep and are constantly crumbling.

Some of the trenches we entered had been made by the Germans, others by the French. Those close up to the front seemed to have been dug but a short time, but farther back they were already beginning to look ancient. In some places grass was growing in the sides and here and there flowers. Some of these trenches had not been used to any extent during the summer. They are so arranged that each line is connected with the one in its front and rear by cross trenches, and it is through these that the soldiers enter and leave the actual fighting zone.

[Illustration: Key of Archbishop's Palace at Reims and Bone from Twelfth Century Tombs Opened by German Shells.]

We saw many French soldiers in the trenches. They seemed to be well fed and comfortable. At the time we were there there was no actual fighting, of course, but an occasional shot rang out across "no man's land," when sentries on either side thought they saw a chance to do execution. The ground between Reims and the battle line is a complete network of these trenches, and years will be required to level it again after the war is over.

From the advanced trench toward the German lines, at the points where we looked, there was no sign of war except an occasional shell hole and the barbed wire entanglements. The country was green and seemed to be at peace, except for the sound of the guns. It was hard to believe that we were looking across a narrow strip, on the other side of which were millions of armed men and every form of death and destruction that has been invented. Yet all this was there.

Upon coming out of the trenches we were unable to find our automobiles, the military authorities having ordered them to separate, so that they would not prove an attraction to the German aeroplanes, otherwise they would undoubtedly have been fired upon.

[Illustration: Trenches Visited by the Commission]

Following this visit to the trenches, we were taken to the famous wine cellars of Heidsick & Co., containing twelve miles of underground vaults. A few days previous to our visit a German bomb had struck the Heidsick wine cellar and destroyed forty thousand bottles of champagne, believed to be the largest number of bottles opened at any one time in the history of the world. These vaults, during the bombardments, which were numerous, are a safety place for the inhabitants and thousands take refuge in the wine cellars. We were told that there was not a single bottle of champagne missed, a testimony to the honesty of the French people. This visit to the wine cellars was intensely interesting.

While driving about the ruined town, the automobile in which I happened to be was guided by a chauffeur unfamiliar with the location, and he drove us across the German lines within three minutes ride of the German headquarters. The major in charge of the automobile squad discovered the error. We were told afterwards that we had a narrow escape from being made prisoners. While at Reims we were at all times within twenty-five minutes walk of the Germans and within ten minutes ride in the motor.

The population at Reims before the war was one hundred and eighteen thousand. It is now reduced to eighteen thousand, the other hundred thousand having become refugees, soldiers and "missing". We visited a Twelfth century cathedral which, strange to say, had not been touched. While in this cathedral we could hear the guns booming.

We returned to Chalons on the Marne the same evening, arriving there at 8:30 P.M., it being considered unsafe to remain at Reims. After our dinner at Chalons on the Marne, Dr. Mailloux timed the firing of the cannon and announced that for a space of half an hour there was one fired every two seconds.

We left Chalons on the Marne at 11:30 A.M. on the following day by railroad. The train was filled with officers returning from the front. We saw a number of Red Cross girls on this train. One had a double decoration. As we passed along we saw thousands of soldiers enroute to the front, among them one full regiment. We also saw a large detachment of German prisoners being transferred, with the letters "P. G." quite large on the back of each prisoner. "P. G." means prison garb.

In the railroad trains in both England and France appears the following:—