Oh! la foule joyeuse, Le soir,
Autour des tables, sur les trottoirs,
Et la bière mousseuse
Débordant des verres,
Et les longues pipes de terre
Dont on suit des yeux la fumée,
Le c?ur réjoui, l'ame apaisée!
Combien de temps, combien de temps,
O ma Patrie,
Tendras-tu patiemment
Dans la nuit
Tes mains meurtries?
Emile Cammaerts.
Lettice and Dorothea arrived at the Bellevue in May. By the end of July their guests were scattering like autumn leaves, and on the day of the ultimatum Lettice took matters into her own hands, sent off the servants and shut the hotel. She did not in the least want to follow them—Lettice was not fond of running away; but for Dorothea's sake she was making up her mind to that sacrifice, when she discovered that Dorothea herself had other views. She go and hide? Rather not! She was going to stay and see the fun. (At that time it was still possible for the Dorotheas of this world to talk of seeing the fun.)
 
"I can nurse, you know," she said, sitting on the dresser in the big deserted kitchen, her hands in her tweed pockets, her brown legs swinging, her eyes sparkling with agreeable excitement. "I've got every old certificate and medal the Red Cross people give. It was the one thing I was let do as a kid—go to nursing lectures; uncle was always fancying himself ill, you see, and I had to look after him. Oh yes, I[Pg 245] can nurse like billy-o! Go back to England and knit socks? Not for this child!"
 
But, but—but it's not safe," objected Lettice, pensively rubbing her nose.
 
"Safe? Nonsense! What do you suppose is going to happen to us? The Germans will never get within miles of this, and even suppose they did we're non-combatants—we should be all right. This isn't the Dark Ages. Besides, if we run away, who's to look after the hotel?"
 
Lettice said nothing.
 
"Suppose they quartered soldiers here? It's just the place they might. The poilu's a darling, and I love him madly, but what do you think Mr. Gardiner's furniture would be like after a week of him? There simply must be somebody to clear the rooms and see to things. You sent over specially to be in charge, and then want to go and run away! I'm surprised at you, Lettice. But whoever else shows pu-pusilianinimity" (there were some words Dorothea really could not get!), "I shall always be found ready to die at my post."
 
"But—" said Lettice. Dorothea jumped down in a whirlwind and shook her by the shoulders.
 
"Oh, pooh! I won't go home—I won't—I won't—so now! Do you understand that? And you know perfectly well you don't want to either. As if I couldn't see! You're saying this simply for my sake; and now you know I'm not going in any case you may as well give in without any more fuss. I'm tired of arguing with four buts and a grunt!"
 
"Well—" said Lettice, varying her formula with an eighth of an inch of smile, and allowing herself to pretend to be over-persuaded.
 
So they stayed.
 
In common with many other people, Dorothea was not happy in her predictions. On Friday, 21st August, a French army passed through Bouillon. On Saturday a battle was fought near Maissin, in which twelve thousand Germans were put out of action. On Sunday began the retreat of the[Pg 246] French towards Sedan. And on Monday, 24th August, the French commander warned M. Hunin, burgomaster and proprietor of the H?tel de la Poste, that it would be prudent to evacuate the town. All the bells in Bouillon rang the tocsin, and many people fled, abandoning their houses as they stood. A few hours later the Germans entered the city.
 
The abandoned houses were at once broken open and systematically plundered. Wine, beer, bedding were commandeered; pictures and valuables of all sorts were packed up and sent to Germany. More careful than their comrades at Louvain, the victors here secured and stole the famous library of the Trappist monks of Cordemois. Next morning a notice defining the duties of the inhabitants was posted up in the market-place, on the walls of the hotel where the last French Emperor had slept on the night before Sedan.
 
PROCLAMATION!
 
1. The town of Bouillon will pay a War Levy of 500,000 francs.
 
2. Belgian or French soldiers must be handed over as Prisoners of War before 4 P.M. Citizens failing to obey this order will be sentenced to Penal Servitude for Life in Germany. Every soldier found after that hour will be Shot.
 
3. Arms, powder, dynamite must be handed over before 4 P.M. Penalty, to be Shot.
 
4. Interdiction to be out in the streets During the Hours of Darkness. All houses must be completely Open and Lighted. Groups of more than Five persons are Strictly Forbidden.
 
5. Citizens must salute every German officer with respect. Failing this, the officer is entitled to extort it by Any Means in his Power.
 
6. If any Hostile Action is attempted the town will be Burnt Down and a Third of the Male Population will be Shot; without distinction of persons, the innocent will suffer with the guilty. The people of Bouillon must [Pg 247]understand that there is no crime greater or more terrible than to endanger the existence of the town and its inhabitants by hostile action against the German army.
 
The under-mentioned have been taken as Hostages for the good behavior of the town.
 
The Commander of Division.
 
Followed a list of forty names, including both the priests. Fined, pillaged, terrorized, Bouillon yet thought itself lucky when the news came in from the country.
 
From Rochehaut no one had escaped; the warning did not come in time. Uhlans rode into the village on Monday afternoon and calmly took possession. Rochehaut was cringingly terrified, slavishly obedient. Not a dog could lift his tongue against the invaders without being zealously throttled; and when Madame Mercier's fat sow got in the way of the colonel, madame bundled out after her right under the horse's hoofs, to save, not her pig, but the dignity of a German officer. Alas! in spite of all, the colonel took a billet de parterre on the nearest dung-hill. He got up swearing, and for one awful moment Rochehaut trembled; but he went into the Petit Caporal to change, and Rochehaut breathed again, and went to pick up madame. That peril was averted.
 
For two days nothing happened, and the villagers crept out of their shuttered houses, and began timidly to go about their work of getting in the harvest. On the third morning, Thursday, 28th August, a poacher in the woods near the river let off his gun at a rabbit. He did not hit, and he was a Botassart man; but Rochehaut was the nearest village, and Rochehaut was held responsible. Moreover, that morning a patrol of Uhlans had gone out, to come back with ten empty saddles. French cavalry had laid an ambush for them in the woods near Vresse. Somebody must have given information to those French cavalry. It was necessary to make an example.
 
As a preliminary, a cordon was drawn round the village, and the people were collected in the square. Of the men, some thirty of the youngest were marked off for deportation[Pg 248] to Germany, where they might be made use of for gathering in the harvest of the Fatherland; the remaining twenty found an end to their troubles in a trench under the churchyard wall. The women and children, who had been confined in the church during the fus............