THE château and the Chapel Palatine of Gèrbéviller were unique in many respects. Dating from the thirteenth century, the chateau served as appanage to the Cadets of Lorraine, to whom they were given by Charles the Bold, and transmitted in 1486 to Huet du Châtelet, whose illustrious family founded the Maison des Cannes.
In 1641 it came into the hands of Charles-Emmanuel de la Tornielle, step-brother of Christian du Châtelet of the powerful Tornielle family, thence it descended successively to the Lombartyes, in whose possession it remained until it was seized and sold by the state in the troublous times of 1796.
The chapel was restored, almost reconstructed and consecrated on the nineteenth of July, 1865, by Monsignor Lavigerie with great splendor and pomp in the presence of the Lombartye family and a score of dignitaries of the state.
The château itself, constructed in the eighteenth century, was possessed of what the French call "grand air," and was certainly imposing in size from a distance, shining among the dark green of the heavy foliage which surrounded it. Its façade on the road was somewhat marred by the narrowness of the approach. But the façade on the parkway, through which a small brook called the "Montagne" meandered most delightfully, was most impressive. The sketch which I made of it will serve to show the character of the great house better than many pages of written description.
The reputation enjoyed by this great typical château of France was not by any means confined to the country. It was known throughout Europe, and for this reason, I suppose, was a shining mark for the Teutons.
At the side of the château was the grand entrance, used only upon state occasions. This entrance was flanked by two immense "vasques" or vases of dark gray marble, a little too monumental, perhaps architects might think, but taken together with the "grand air" of the château entirely in keeping, to my mind. These it is claimed still stand unharmed amid the ruins all about.
The Chapel Palatine architecturally, perhaps, does not merit extended eulogy. Its towers are shot away, and some blackened calcined walls are all that remain. But the treasures which it contained, now either destroyed or carried off to Berlin, who shall say if they can ever be replaced? I am told that the family of Lombartye, and notably its last representative, who restored it in 1865, was long a resident of Rome, and being very wealthy had collected a vast store of most valuable objects of art of all kinds, including statuary and paintings, and these he had installed not only in the château, but had so enriched the chapel that it was a veritable storehouse of precious objects—even more than a museum, because most of them related to the history of the ancient families who had occupied Gèrbéviller.
Here then in this small chapel was a collection of marvels of decorative art, tapestries of Arras, examples of the jeweler's craft, illuminations upon vellum, a hundred or more priceless volumes, and notably a collection of funerary urns, containing the ashes of most illustrious personages, including some of the Saints. Among the treasures in this small chapel was a series of the tapestries of Gobelin, another of Beauvais, and a third complete pictorial set made in Antwerp after the cartoons of Nicolas Memling. These last, just before the destruction of Gèrbéviller, were presented to the Cathedral of Nancy. The others are among the ashes of the ruins.
The Master altar of the chapel was covered by a magnificent "ciborium," raised upon three columns of black marble, ornamented by "tears" of silver of twelfth century workmanship. The great candelabra, called "Flambeaux," were of Flemish work, and had twenty-four lusters; these were destroyed.
There were splendid tombs on all sides; one was a reproduction of that of Henry I, Count of Champagne, and of St. Etienne of Troyes; the tomb of Lombartye, of de la Vieufville, of Rochechourt-la-Rochefoucauld, of du Caylar, of Vieuville, of Gouy d'Arsy, and that of Père Jandel the Dominican. All these are mutilated and broken. Of the funeral urns, one contained the ashes of St. Auguste, the martyr; another of what is called "cipollin," the ashes of Ste Victoire; a red marble one those of St. Vital; a "chasse" held a portion of the petrified bones of Candide, presented by the Bishop of Nancy. Another one contained the bones of St. Felix Romain.
A great tall "ciborium" contained the "relique" of Tarcisius, the young martyr of the Eucharist. These, contained in a wonderful chest covered with vermilion enamel, bore an epitaph composed by Pope Damase, and were brought from Rome by the Dominicans. Overjoyed in the possession of such a treasure, the Marquis of Lombartye, sought an artist of renown who could make a fitting monument to contain it. His choice fell upon Fal-guière the sculptor. He it was who fashioned the exquisite statue in the Luxembourg. But it is not generally known that this is a replica of the original which was in the Chapel of Gèrbéviller, and which is now entirely destroyed.
I understand that in searching the ruins, certain fragments of precious objects have been found and removed to Paris.
M. Pigot in his report claims that the head of Fal-guière's statue of St. Tarcisius was found among the ashes, and, placed in a strong oaken box, has been given into the hands of M. le Sous-Préfet of Lunéville.
But the remarkable paintings which the chapel contained are of course entirely consumed in the fire caused by the bombs and shells which fell upon the chapel for days at a time. There was the painting by Lippo Lippi; a portrait of Prosper Lambartini (Pope Benoit XIV); a triptych by Fra Angelico; one by Sandro Botticelli; The Virgin, the infant and two angels; a copy of the "Femme Adultéré" by Titian; a Benozzo Gozzoli; a canvas by a pupil of Ferrare, and various others. There was a splendid statue of the Virgin in terra cotta of the sixteenth century; a life size St. Joseph by Lizier-Richie; and two statues of Christ and John the Baptist in bronze by Dubois. Of these the statue of Christ remains (says M. Pigot in his report) "unharmed."
The little town of Gèrbéviller itself is entirely destroyed, and the wretched inhabitants are scattered to the four winds. And for what good was all this, one asks?
M. Georges Goyan, writing in the Revue des Deux Mondes, of the heroic work performed by the nuns of France, relates a touching story of a Sister Julia of Gèrbéviller, who, when the village was in flames and a German officer was about to give the order to burn the Red Cross pavilion, stepped before the lieutenant and with the most superb courage defied him to commit the sacrilege. The officer, a Bavarian, taken aback for the moment, bowed his head, and the pavilion was spared.
Sister Gabriela of the little town of Clermont-en-Ar-gonne was no less courageous. She advanced to meet the army of the Crown Prince when it arrived, saying, "We will care for your wounded, if you will spare the town." She received a promise, which was not kept, however. Again, she sought the Colonel, and bravely said, "I see now that the word of a German officer is not to be relied on." Ashamed, he ordered the work of destruction stopped, and thus the town was spared. Twenty-five wounded French prisoners owed their lives to this devoted nun, who in April, 1916, received the decoration of the war medal. Goyan quotes verbatim from the report of the nun, "The Major made his congratulatory speech while I was completing the bandage of my poor 'poilu,' whose head rested on my lap."
Waldeck-Rousseau, the former Premier of France, in a speech before the French senate in 1903 stated that "Catholicism survives in France, if not as a religious law, faithfully observed by everybody, at least as a social statute respected by the vast majority." M. Goyan declares that the French church is indeed a moral power to be reckoned with, "and when the war-tocsin had rung throughout the land, when the hour of death had been welcomed as an old dear friend, all misunderstandings of the past melted away, and now for fully twenty-eight months the church could again place itself at the disposal of France."
With emotion and gratitude he relates the patriotic sacrifices made by the Protestant churches and the synagogues of France. Out of four hundred and ninety pastors of the Lutheran and Reformed churches, "one hundred and eighty are in the trenches: all students of the Paris Rabbinical Seminary and more than three-fifths of the officiating rabbis of the Republic left for the front; two of them were killed, one was missing.
"When after this war is over, our sister churches will write their own martyrology, Catholic witnesses will rise to glorify their dead. The whole Catholic press rendered a well deserved homage to Chief Rabbi Bloch of Lyons, who was mortally wounded by a German bullet while he attended a dying Catholic soldier, holding the cross to his livid lips."
After these prefatory remarks the author traces in his inimitable style a picture of the life and activity of the Catholic church from the unforgettable July days of 1914, to date. One-third of its priesthood followed the call of their country. *
The Paris diocese alone has already buried forty-five of its members. The Cardinal-Archbishop of Lyons had to enlist laymen to fill the gaps in his decimated clergy. Bishops have become again parish priests.
"Eleven young French monks, surprised by the German invasion in their monastery in the grand duchy of Luxembourg, disguised themselves, walking stealthily into Belgium, and from there to France, immediately joining their barracks. Dominicans and Jesuits vie with each other in patriotic devotion. The Church, cheerfully accepting the abrogation of its time honored immunities, with a noble gesture commanded the young priests to shoulder their rifles: 'Your parish,' explained the Cardinal Archbishop of Rheims, Monseigneur Luçon, to his priests, is henceforth your regiment, your trench, your hospital. Love it as you have loved your church. Perhaps you will be buried on the battlefield. What of it? Why should we priests not give our blood?' Thus, the priest is no longer isolated from the people; he has become an integral part of it. The Dominican sergeants and Jesuit lieutenants have built the bridge. And who, on the other hand, would have believed, a short three years ago, that a company of French soldiers, educated in the godless school of the Republic, should, before preparing for assault, receive absolution on their knees?
"A parallel case to this kneeling company receiving absolution is the scene in the Bois d'Argonne, of March 7, 1916, when 'the successive waves of a regiment, marching to the attack, bowed themselves before the representative of God, de Chabrol, Chaplain of the division, whose hand, while the guns were thundering, made the sign of the redemption.'" (Quoted textually from an order of the day, by the commanding general.)
Fifty-nine priests and seminarists of the Paris diocese received crosses while practically under fire. "The natural love of the soil and the love of the church combined, produce heroic souls of a peculiarly noble blending. The olden days when bishops were the supreme lords of towns and countries were revived, if only for a short time, at Meaux, and elsewhere, shortly before the battle of the Marne. On September 3, 1914, the armies of von Kluck were expected any moment and the civil authorities fled. Bishop Marbeaux took possession of the City Hall, and with a rare skill organized the various municipal services. Generals Joffre and Galliéni had stopped the triumphal onslaught of the German troops. On September 9, the civil authorities returned to Meaux and Mayor Mar-beaux gave in his resignation. Similar was the situation in Soissons and Chalons-sur-Marne; the cathedrals again became civic centers.
"But our priests (continues M. Goyan) in the midst of the brutal butchery, are not unmindful of the Saviour's advice to love even our enemies—above all, if the latter are in great stress themselves. Thus Rev. Landrieux of the cathedral of Rheims, while the church was burning, saved from its ruins at the risk of his life a group of wounded German soldiers. The enraged population was about to lynch them. 'You will have to kill me first,' said the courageous priest. Words fail to describe as they deserve the deeds of Bishop Lobbedeye of Arras and his clergy.
"The tradition of the catacombs revived; a cellar was transformed into a church (while the town was under bombardment) and here the Bishop read his mass. The priests threw off their 'soutanes' to become police and firemen, moving men and grave diggers. One of them, de Bonnieres, of noble birth, went every morning, braving the bullets which whistled about his ears, into the suburbs begging the soldiers for the scraps, left over from their meals, to distribute these pittances among the starving poor of Arras."
"Thus, before the enemy the old union of church and state had been effected. The same population, the same government, which before had adopted the slogan, The priest's place is in the church,' requested the cooperation of the clergy. And the church obeyed the call. Everything was forgotten. 'Who cares now,' exclaimed Cardinal Savin, 'for the religious misunderstandings, political quarrels, and personal rivalries of the past! France first! United by the common danger, we learned to know and respect one the other, and after the war we will solve the grave problems which had separated us before the war. Our victory will be our main ally in this future work of pacification.'
"Forever memorable will remain that great religious manifestation at Paris during the week of the Battle of the Marne, in honor of St. Geneviève, the patron of the French capital. She and Joan of Arc became again the divine protectors of France.
"The people of Paris fell on their knees on the famous heights of Montmartre, the mountains of the Saint-Martyrs of the past, a place historical in the annals of France. Even the skeptics thanked the church for its resuscitation of the religious spirit. France again remembered that she had once been 'the eldest daughter of the Church.'" (Georges Goyan.)
WHEN the history of the war is written at least three names of women will be enshrined forever in the annals: Sister Julie, the fearless nun of Gèrbéviller; that heroic woman who took the place of and acted as mayor of Soissons when von Kluck's legions occupied and ravaged that unfortunate little city; and Marcelle Semmer, a young girl of eighteen, who showed such bravery and extraordinary fortitude in aid of France as to win encomiums from both the British and French officers, who recommended that she be decorated. She has just received both the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, and the War Cross as reward.
M. L. L. Klotz, Deputy from the war-ravaged department of the Somme, has told in glowing words the story of how at the outbreak of the war, these noble women, left defenseless and at the mercy of the invaders, proudly faced these savages and really defied them.
He told of Marcelle Semmer, a young orphan girl of eighteen, living in the little village of Eclusier, near Frise on the river Somme, at the beginning of the war.
This young girl who showed the most extraordinary bravery and fortitude in the service of France, is perhaps but one of many others whose stories may never be known to the world.
She was acting as bookkeeper and clerk in a factory, producing phosphates, which had been founded by her father, an Alsatian refugee.
The invaders, driving back the Allies at Charleroi, captured the town, taking many prisoners. The French fell back across a canal, near the home of Marcelle Sem-mer, where there was a drawbridge. The heroic girl, unmindful of her danger, succeeded in raising the drawbridge before the enemy came up, and threw the lever into, the canal. Without this lever the bridge could not be lowered again. The canal at this point was so deep that the invading army could not ford it, and seeing the fleeing figure of the girl, the soldiers fired volley after volley after her, without once hitting her.
By this audacious act, Marcelle Semmer held back the advance of an entire German army corps until the following day, for the Germans had to await the arrival of their engineers before they were able to put a temporary bridge in place, and this they made of boats, and pontoons hastily constructed, thus consuming hours which were of great value in enabling the hard-pressed French to escape from the hordes which far outnumbered them.
In spite of the danger of detection, the young girl insisted upon remaining in the village during its occupation by the Germans; happily they did not recognize her as the girl who raised the drawbridge against them or she would have been shot at once.
Near the factory where she worked was a shed covering a subterranean passage leading to the phosphate mine. She succeeded in concealing the entrance trap to this passage by means of some large tuns and bagging. During the night she managed to conceal in this passage no less than seventeen French soldiers who had been somehow left in the retreat from the towns of Mons and Charleroi. Not only did she succeed in keeping these men hidden, but she managed to secure for them both food and peasant clothing, and aided them to get away to the French lines to the south. Sixteen of these men succeeded in getting away, but one dark night in a furious rainstorm while she was piloting the seventeenth to a cross-country lane, she was detected by a sentry, who dragged both of them before the German lieutenant.
In the examination before the Commandant at headquarters she defiantly confessed to having aided the French soldiers to escape, crying out, "Yes, I did it for France, and I shall do it again and again, if I am able. Do with me what you will. I am an orphan, I have but one mother, France! For her, my life!"
The Commandant promptly sentenced her to be shot. She was taken out of the room into the courtyard, where they placed her against the wall facing the firing squad, her arms tied behind her.
Suddenly French artillery opened upon the German lines at Eclusier. Before the officer could give the word to fire upon the brave girl, a shell fell in the courtyard, and in the confusion, wonderful to relate, she escaped. While she had been assisting her fellow countrymen to escape the French had crept up, and routed the invaders from their position in the little town.
So Marcelle once more fled to the subterranean passage, and there took up her quarters, rendering great service to the army, through her knowledge of the surrounding country.
Between the lines of the opposing armies lay the river Somme, which here in the vicinity of Eclusier and Frise spreads out into a pond with marshy banks, and innumerable pitfalls and bogs. In these the soldiers frequently lost their way, and here Marcelle found a way to help France by her knowledge of the safe paths. Again and again she faced death; finally she was captured while leading a squad of men across the bogs to a trench at Frise. She was brought by the Germans to the village of Frise, and there confined in the parish church, now, alas, a mass of ruin. Once more her never departing good fortune was her salvation. Almost before the door of her prison was fastened upon her, the French artillery began a lively bombardment of Frise. One of the shells blew a great hole in the wall of the little church, and out of this hole, unperceived by her captors, Marcelle escaped, over the marshes and through the tangled roads into the French lines.
Enabled to give most valuable information as to the numbers and guns of the enemy, Marcelle's fame soon spread through the ranks. She was mentioned in the dispatches, and received the Cross of the Legion of Honor, and later, before the drawn up soldiers of the corps, she received the War Cross.
She was so useful in this region of the Somme that she asked to be allowed to remain at Frise to work for France, and so for a year and a half, despite the turn of the war, she stayed on, taking care of the wounded men, and protecting as far as possible women and children.
So beloved did she become that an English general ordered his soldiers to salute her on passing, and to refrain from addressing her unless she required it. Everywhere she went the soldiers both admired and honored this young girl.
The loss of her brothers, who died fighting for France, and the strain of her work told upon her health, and the doctors ordered her to Paris.
Here she asked to be allowed to work at the nurses' school and to aid the wounded soldiers. To this the authorities assented, as she was thus enabled to earn a livelihood, for all that she had was lost at Eclusier when the mill was destroyed. In the great hall of the Sorbonne at Paris, a short time ago Deputy Klotz (of the Somme) eulogizing this young girl, suddenly stretched out his arms in dramatic gesture, electrifying the great audience with these words:
"This little heroine of Picardy, this admirable girl; this incarnation of the qualities of the women of France; this girl of simple origin, flawless dignity, of serious mind and gentle ways; this girl of indomitable will power is here, ladies and gentlemen, here among you, in this room!
"And I feel that I am the spokesman for every one of you when I now extend to her the expression of our respect, our gratitude, our admiration!"
The vast audience, every man and woman of them, leaped to their feet, in enthusiasm, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the heroine.
Through the great Hall of the Sorbonne, where the most famous men of the world had been honored by France, swept a storm of cheers; a reward more splendid than the Cross of the Legion of Honor, than the War Cross, than the salutes of the soldiers at the front, had come to Marcelle Semmer, of Eclusier.
MOST travelers from Paris to Geneva will recall the brief stop of the train at the station, and a glimpse perhaps of the gaunt gray towers on the top of the great hill against the evening sky, looking much more like a fortress than a cathedral from the viewpoint below.
Called the "Rock of Lâon," it was in ancient days the Celtic Laudunam, and was known to the Romans as Lug-dunam Clavatum.
"Lâon is the very pride of that class of town which out of Gaulish hill forts grew into Roman and Mediaeval cities. None stands so proudly on its height; none has kept its ancient character so little changed to our own day" (says Marshall). It was here that Louis, or Lodo-wig, who was the famous son of Count Eudes, established an illustrious court, presided over by the "brave" Duchess Gerberga, and here afterwards Charles, their son, maintained a successfully defended siege against the onslaught by Hugues Capet on this stronghold. The treachery of Asceline the Bishop resulted in the capture of the town, and as a reward, Capet made him "the second Ecclesiastical Peer of France."
Henceforth the city was famed as the seat of the Capetian dynasty, whose bishops ruled it until it was captured by the Prussians in 1814, when it served as the headquarters of Blucher, in his operations against Napoleon I. After the Battle of Waterloo the French troops attempted to reform their shattered lines under its walls.
Lâon was the birthplace of the mother of Charlemagne, Lothaire, Louis IV, and Louis V.
Crowning royally the great hill which dominated the town and the plain, the remarkable Cathedral of Notre Dame with its many beautiful towers formed a picturesque feature that once seen could not be forgotten. One can only compare it to the towers of Mont St. Michel of La Manche, with its encircling battlemented walls, but Lâon in point of architecture was infinitely the finer of the two.
It is said to have been the work of Bishop Gauthier II (de Montagne) of the twelfth century, and built upon the site of a previous structure which had been burnt during an uprising in the early part of that century. Originally there were four great towers, one at each of the angles. Of these two remained lacking the spires. The façade was most remarkable for its extremely deep portals. The two towers, which were square at the base, terminated in octagonal belfries, and the angle buttresses supported light two-storied open-work turrets of most graceful design.
The cathedral was remarkable for the square apse, and there was a tall lanthorn tower in the center of the church, which had two windows separated by buttresses.
In the "chevet" a rose window was placed above three long openings, over which was a gallery between the turrets.
The pulpit was from the Abbey of Val-St.-Pierre.
From below, the cathedral, as I have already said, looked more like a fortress surmounted by a great chateau. Strange celebrations, seemingly lacking in religious character, were enacted in the cathedral, particularly those celebrated during the month of December. "This, the fête des Innocents, took place in the choir, when the children, wearing strange costumes with copes occupied the high carved stalls and chanted the £ offices' of the mass with every sort of buffoonery, to the great delight of the people.
"Eight days after this comes the 'day of Fools,' during which the chaplain and choristers meet to elect a 'pope,' who is styled the Patriarch of Fools. Those who neglect to participate in this election are expected to pay a fine. After a procession the Patriarch is offered a repast of wine and bread with great solemnity, and he in turn gives to each chorister a present of corn in payment. The whole troop wear the most fantastic ornaments, and during the two following days the entire cathedral is given over to their buffoonery. After many cavalcades by the townspeople the fête terminates in a great procession of the 'rabardiaux.'" (Viollet le Duc.)
This celebration degenerated into a simple custom of the giving wreaths of flowers following the celebration of mass on the Day of Epiphany.
It is strange that these towns, explored by the present writer, should have been so neglected by the tourist. Of course, it is chiefly to the artist that they seemed so quaint, entrancing and profitable. No such exquisite arrangements of composition were found in other countries as here in France, and really at the doorway of Paris. Of course now and then there was trouble for me, because I made sketches of these charming localities; and even as late as 1910, when the sketches reproduced in this book were made, forty years after the Franco-Prussian War, when there seemed to be no possible danger of war in France, I was many times in danger of arrest for drawing a church or an old wall. Several times my portfolio had been seized by officers at the frontier towns, and I had been "detained" with more or less brusqueness until the superior officer could be summoned, but I must say that these occasions usually ended by profuse apologies on the part of M. le Commissaire, who deplored the activity of his men and offered his cigarette case most graciously, begging that I should forget the incident and wishing me "good luck." But it is perhaps now unnecessary to warn the artist abroad to keep away from fortifications, or to carry his passports with him.
Lâon to-day is hidden behind a heavy black curtain of smoke from the great guns of the Germans. What has been the fate of that old gray town is problematical. It is said that the Germans have shot away the two great towers of the beloved old cathedral, and that the walls of the picturesque plateau upon which it rested have been razed. Beyond this nothing has been disclosed for the two years during which the invader has occupied it. Northeast of the cathedral was the thirteenth century Bishopric, used for a long time as the Hall of Justice. It was erected by Bishop Garnier in 1242. It was a rather dismal looking structure, and altogether lacking in architectural distinction. Whatever it may have been in former days, I ventured to say as much to an advocate with whom I chanced to converse at the table d'hôte, and I shall not soon forget the reproof my criticism called down upon me. I learned thereafter to govern my tongue, whatever my convictions. The Lâonaise bitterly resented adverse criticism of any one of their beloved monuments.
Along the edge of the hill below there were unusually delightful promenades, shaded here and there by thick heavy foliage, through which charming vistas appeared.
The long street on the ridge of the embattlemented hill wound along most delightfully, bringing the wanderer to the old church of St. Martin at the edge of the town. This, it is said, was once the appanage of a Premonstratensian Abbey of the twelfth century. It had two bays and a transept, and six small chapels of unique character. According to legend, the first bay was built to enclose the tomb of a Sire de Coucy, its benefactor. This Sire de Coucy had been excommunicated by the clergy, and being thus outside the pale of religion, he had been buried without ceremony outside the west door. This caused such remonstrance upon the part of the people, who loved him well for his great charities, if not for his sins, that the clergy relented, and it was necessary to enlarge the bay to accommodate his grave.
The twin towers from the last bay are of the thirteenth century. Near the entrance were a number of tombs, some of them of remarkable richness of design, notably that of Jeanne de Flandre, widow of Enguerrand IV, Sire de Coucy, Abbess of Saviour-sous-Lâon in the fourteenth century, and said to have been the work of the Flemish sculptor, Pierre de Puez. If this work of art has been destroyed as reported, another unnecessary crime is added to the list.
There was also the low relief figure of a knight in armor, evidently of the greatest antiquity, although it was dated twelve hundred and something, the first two figures being barely discernible.
The ancient suburb of Vaux has been under bombardment for more than two years. Little is known to us of the extent of the damage it has suffered, but I remember a lovely old church of the eleventh century, with a most beautiful old choir of a little later period, where the old priest, who was considerable of an antiquary, by the way, showed me a fragment of tapestry, done in silk and wool, and of considerable value, as a specimen of workmanship. He plainly was anxious that I should admire it, and to oblige him I did so. He showed me also his books, some with good bindings, others worn by use. He seemed an innocent sort of man and lonely for companionship, telling me with simple dignity of his daily life in the quiet parish and the details of his office.
The highest pay of a parish priest, he said, was fifteen hundred francs a year ($300); the lowest, eight hundred, of course in addition to his living quarters. He eked out his scanty income by the fees paid him at weddings, christenings, and burials. When I told him of the sums paid in America to ministers, his eyes bulged and his under lip bulged comically. Then he wagged his head, lifted his arms, shoulders and eyebrows, sighed heavily, and changed the subject.
Poor old fellow, I wonder what has become of him in these terrible days. When I left him I gave him a pencil sketch of his church which I had made, embowered in heavy trees, as a souvenir. I neglected to make another, so I cannot picture it here, in this chapter, to my great regret.
Perhaps the greatest, or at any rate the most indefensible piece of vandalism perpetrated by the retiring armies of the invader, was the total annihilation of the great castle of Coucy-le-Château in March of this year. Coucy castle, legend says, was built upon the site given to St. Remi by Clovis, in the fulfillment of a condition that the former should walk around it while the King enjoyed his noonday siesta. Afterwards it was part of the property of the Chapter of Rheims for upwards of two hundred years. In the year nine hundred and twenty-nine King Charles the Simple was imprisoned in its donjon by Herbert, Count of Vermandois. Enguerrand I, founder of the house of Coucy, received the castle in fief from the Archbishop of Rheims, and from it departed with his knights in quest of the Holy Grail and was distinguished in the Crusades. His descendant, Enguerrand III, who was surnamed the Great, rebuilt the castle, and when he flouted the authority of the Chapter of Rheims, and they laid the matter before the king, he answered with the words: "Je ne puis faire autre chose pour vous que de priere le Sire de Coucy de ne point vous inquiéter." In the subsequent quarrel with the Chapter of Lâon, Enguer-rand at the head of his cohort stormed the Cathedral and carried off the dean a prisoner to Coucy, where he languished at the pleasure of the fiery knight.
The laws he promulgated and forced upon the barony were called "Le Coutume de Coucy."
The battle of Bouvignes, in which he performed many acts of prowess and valor, and also his successes during the Albigensian war of 1209 added to his great fame as a warrior and caused the league of nobles to propose the dethronement of Louis IX, then a child, whose crown they offered to Enguerrand.
So proud were his descendants that they abandoned their other titles and called themselves simple "de Coucy" and adopted the motto "Roi ne suys—ne prince, ne duc, ne compte aussi—je suys le Sire de Coucy."
Descendants sold the Château, as it was called, and Jie Seigneurie de Coucy to Louis d'Orléans in 1400, who made it a duchy, and so amplified and decorated it that it became noteworthy throughout the realm. In 1411 it was besieged and captured by the royal army, and retained until 1419, when it was taken by the troops of the Duke of Orleans. In 1423 it was captured by the English, and again in 1652 by the royal army and dismantled by order of Mazarin. At the outbreak it was an "historical monument" kept up by the state as a museum.
Coucy-le-Chateau was one of the greatest and most splendid relics of the thirteenth century. Nothing remains of it now. It has been utterly blasted away from the foundations. On the heights is only a series of great piles of crumpled masonry and pulverized rock. The oldest, the strongest, the largest and most historic of the castles of Europe is now only a memory.
So enraged were the French at this piece of wanton destruction, that they refused to bombard the ruins, even though they knew that the invader had intrenched machine gunners behind and beneath it.
Instead the infantry, unsupported by artillery, charged across a plain swept by gun fire and wrested the sacred ruin from the enemy.
So terrific was the assault that the Germans could make no counter attack.
Before they left the Germans boasted to the French villagers that more than thirty tons of explosives were used to destroy the castle. So great was the explosion, the peasants who witnessed it from a distance report that the great round tower, visible for miles around, seemed to rise in its vast bulk from the foundations, and slowly vanish in a cloud of whitish smoke. So fell Coucy. Another crime added to the already long list against the invader.
The official explanation for its destruction coming from Berlin, is that "the Castle was not worth more than the life of one German soldier, and there are plenty of other such castles in southern Germany."
The best view of the great chateau was that from the approach from the town of Lâon. My sketch shows the ruin in springtime, its battlements rising from the trees at its base, its magnificent pinkish gray mass against a sky of heavy white cumulous cloud just after a gentle rain.
The small town nestled below it, and still had some vestiges of the old walls that formerly protected it.
There was a small inn bearing the grandiose title: "Hotel des Trois Empereurs," whose landlady cooked for us the best omelette we ever tasted, and begged us to take her daughter to America with us as "maid for Madame." The daughter we never saw, by the way. She had gone to Lâon for the day and we left on the afternoon train before she returned, to the great chagrin of Madame.
My sketch shows the château on the end of a promontory. This was approached by a steep and narrow roadway. The great outer court was of irregular form, with what is styled a "curtain wall," of remarkable thickness; more than twenty feet, authorities claim. Beneath it was a subterranean passageway, "so arranged as to be mine proof" (Viollet le Duc). The wall was supported by ten remarkable towers, three of them circular in form. There was a great dry moat between this wall and the keep proper, paved with rounded stones, and there was a drawbridge lifted by heavy chains which completely shut off the inner court of the castle when lifted. On the arch of the great portal over this drawbridge was a rude sculptured scene depicting a combat between one of the "Sires of Coucy" and a lion which, according to legend, took place in the nearby wood of Prémontré. Near it was a sort of stone table supported by three couchant lions upon which stood a lion passant. Here each year, according to a pretty custom, a young girl of the peasant class gave cakes and flowers to the townspeople, after which there was a parade by the local fire company, and in the evening a "retraite aux flambeaux," in which the young men carried lighted torches through the town, headed by a drum and fife.
The tower of the chateau was more than one hundred and fifty feet high and three hundred feet in circumference. In the drawing by Viollet le Duc it is shown surmounted by a conical roof, and this must have made it quite two hundred feet in height.
"The interior was divided into three floors, once covered by ribbed vaulting, which has now perished. The upper floors and the platform at the top were reached by a winding staircase in the thickness of the wall. In the center of each vault was an opening through which men in armor could be let down quickly. The two lower floors were apparently used for the arms and provisions of the garrison." (Hare's "Northeastern France.")
The donjon, according to Viollet le Duc, was the finest specimen in Europe of mediaeval military architecture.
"Compared with this giant," he says, "the largest towers known appear mere spindles." So vanished from the face of the earth a great architectural treasure destroyed simply for revenge.
INSTEAD of being in appearance "a most venerable and aged town," as one might be led to expect from the accounts in the various guides, Rheims, or Reims (so variously spelled) was (1910) nothing of the sort. Situated on the right bank of the river Vesle in the midst of a vast plain encompassed by vine-clad hills, a most ideal setting, it was the busy and chief center of the champagne trade, and also otherwise occupied in the manufacture of both woolen and other fabrics. Until recently one of the most picturesque towns in France, it was intersected by wide and handsome streets reminding one of the Parisian boulevards, which although convenient gave it quite another character. And this "Haussmanization" (if one may so style it) did away with its former quaint mediævalness.
Formerly there was an ideally artistic approach to the great cathedral of "Notre Dame," in a quaint narrow street lined with strangely gabled houses and small shops shown in my sketch, but these have been demolished, and a wide straight street, lined with characterless buildings, now forms a very commonplace frame to hold one's first view of this noble and magnificent structure, the master work of the architects Rob. de Coucy and J. d'Orbais, which Fergusson justly names and qualifies as "perhaps the most beautiful structure produced in the middle ages." Far down this commonplace street one could see the exquisite recessed portals (there are three), with its rows of saints, surmounted by the great rose window, nearly forty feet in circumference, and above the forty-two exquisite lancets, each containing a colossal figure representing the Baptism of Clovis, and the Kings of France. All detail softened by distance, like unto carved tracery upon a jewel casket.
The three portals, so exquisitely recessed, were adorned with some five hundred and fifty statues of various sizes, some of them of great antiquity, and many of them on close inspection proving to be much worn by the action of the elements, or having suffered mutilation in the wars.
Without entering into a tiresome architectural description, which would be out of place in these pages, one may call attention to some of the remarkable details of the façade above the three portals pierced by large windows, which was so lavishly decorated with sculpture; to the left, Christ in the garb of a pilgrim; to the right, the Virgin, and the Apostles, David and Saul; and Goliath.