The windows—­but the record has been made, and will be kept by better hands than mine.  It will last through the generation in which the Teuton is cut off from the fellowship of mankind—­all the long, still years when this war of the body is at an end, and the real war begins.  Rheims is but one of the altars which the heathen have put up to commemorate their own death throughout all the world.  It will serve.  There is a mark, well known by now, which they have left for a visible seal of their doom.  When they first set the place alight some hundreds of their wounded were being tended in the Cathedral.  The French saved as many as they could, but some had to be left.  Among them was a major, who lay with his back against a pillar.  It has been ordained that the signs of his torments should remain—­an outline of both legs and half a body, printed in greasy black upon the stones.  There are very many people who hope and pray that the sign will be respected at least by our children’s children.

IRON NERVE AND FAITH

And, in the meantime, Rheims goes about what business it may have with that iron nerve and endurance and faith which is the new inheritance of France.  There is agony enough when the big shells come in; there is pain and terror among the people; and always fresh desecration to watch and suffer.  The old men and the women and the children drink of that cup daily, and yet the bitterness does not enter into their souls.  Mere words of admiration are impertinent, but the exquisite quality of the French soul has been the marvel to me throughout.  They say themselves, when they talk:  “We did not know what our nation was.  Frankly, we did not expect it ourselves.  But the thing came, and—­you see, we go on.”

Or as a woman put it more logically, “What else can we do?  Remember, we knew the Boche in ’70 when you did not.  We know what he has done in the last year.  This is not war.  It is against wild beasts that we fight.  There is no arrangement possible with wild beasts.”  This is the one vital point which we in England must realize.  We are dealing with animals who have scientifically and philosophically removed themselves inconceivably outside civilization.  When you have heard a few—­only a few—­tales of their doings, you begin to understand a little.  When you have seen Rheims, you understand a little more.  When you have looked long enough at the faces of the women, you are inclined to think that the women will have a large say in the final judgment.  They have earned it a thousand times.

III

BATTLE SPECTACLE AND A REVIEW