HwrowsiEiJR 
 
 SEGOTIl^S 
 
 S T ORY 
 
 BvTVlIJJAlM CAIIMI 
 
 LONDON : GHATTO & WINDUS 
 
 
 PrJce Threepence net
 
 J 
 
 ■^ 
 
 Southern Branch 
 of the 
 
 University of California 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 Forrr L 1 
 
 
 8061 '12 HVriVJ
 
 With the Coitipliments 
 
 of 
 
 Professor W. Macneile Dixon 
 (University of Qlasgow). 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 MAY 2 4 1927 
 
 Form L-9-15))i-8,'24 
 
 'V
 
 MONSIEUR SEGOTIN'S 
 STORY 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM CAINE 
 
 LONDON 
 CHATTO & VV INDUS 
 
 MCMXVII 
 
 <-<k -a j"v
 
 /
 
 c 
 
 MONSIEUR SEGOTIN'S 
 STORY 
 
 TN the days before the war I used to go every 
 summer t'^ Blankenberghe. So did Monsieur 
 Segotin. I smoke ; he sold cigarettes ; and thus 
 it came about that we got to know one another. 
 
 M. Segotin's tobacco shop was a small but a 
 very good one. It had an admirable position on 
 the digue close to the Casino and the biggest hotels, 
 and it did a thriving trade in choice cigars among 
 the rich men who were always in that part of the 
 town. I was a humble enough customer, but I 
 was an Englishman, and I had a fair command 
 of French, and so M. Segotin honoured me with 
 his approval. In those days Blankenberghe was a 
 Paradise of the holiday-making German, and there 
 was always some genial rnanufacturer from the 
 Rhine Province or some jolly Westphalian coalowner 
 or some hearty Berlin stockbroker choosing his 
 fat Corona across the counter of M. Segotin, but 
 to none of them was M. Segotin more than distantly 
 polite. " The money of those people," he said to 
 me, one time, " is genuine enough. As for their 
 
 5
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 amiabilities, well, that is what I can be doing very 
 well without." 
 
 Upon his shop, though it drove a brisk and profit- 
 able trade, M. Segotin was in no way dependent. 
 He had retired from active pursuit of the tobacco 
 business ten years before we met, and he lived for 
 the greater part of each year on a little property 
 which he had inherited (together with a moderate 
 income) in his native town of Saint Hilaire, in 
 Central Belgium. 
 
 But at the beginning of each bathing season he 
 flitted always, for the benefit of his health, to the 
 coast and opened his shop on the digue at Blanken- 
 berghe. " For," as he used to say, " at home, on 
 my property, I can be idle because there is always 
 so much to do ; but an idleness of four months by 
 the sea would be my ruin. I should drink beer 
 from, morning till night in sheer despair, and I should 
 die very quickly. My establishment, do you see, 
 is a steadying influence for me. It also pays my 
 expenses and a trifle over. So my sea-baths cost 
 me nothing and I remain alive." 
 
 He was a bachelor with no near relatives except a 
 sister who lived, married, in England, and two 
 sprightly, middle-aged nieces, daughters of a brother, 
 who helped him in his shop, and to whom his 
 possessions were to descend on his death. " The 
 little ones," as Monsieur Segotin always called them, 
 had an easy enough time of it and spent more of 
 their hours on the digue or in the sea than behind 
 the counter. Each day M. Segotin bathed at 
 
 6
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story ^^ 
 
 nine o'clock. He took an hour between half-past 
 eleven and half-past twelve for a stroll, and his 
 pre-luncheon appetiser in front of one cafe, and 
 another hour between six and seven for another 
 stroll and his pre-dinner appetiser in front of another 
 cafe. The rest of the day he passed in his shop, 
 seated with his elbows on the counter smoking 
 his pipe and contemplating through his open 
 doorway the sea and the motley crowd which 
 moved for ever between him and it. At such times 
 " the little ones " were at liberty to do precisely 
 what they pleased, with one exception. There 
 were to be no dealings with the Germans. In the 
 shop, you understand, and strictly in the way of 
 business, it might be allowed ; but once outside, 
 " those people " were not supposed to exist for the 
 Mesdemoiselles Scgotin. 
 
 " You do not like the Germans ? " I said to him 
 shortly after we had become acquainted ; he had 
 been explaining the rule of conduct which had 
 been laid down for his nieces. 
 
 " Well," he replied slowly, " they may be very 
 nice people in their own country. Of that I have no 
 knowledge. But the trouble with them is that thev 
 will not stay there. Any country should be good 
 enough for those people, but they evidently don't 
 think that their own is. And they pervade. Monsieur, 
 they pervade. Everywhere they go ; everywhere 
 they settle. England is full of them. Both the 
 Americas are full of them. China is full of them. 
 Belgium is full of them. You cannot take a step on 
 
 7
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 God's earth without butting your head against one 
 or more of them. I would prefer my world to be 
 a little less full of that race. For, mark me, my good 
 Monsieur " — and he laid a finger along his nose — 
 *' though those who come here to Blankenberghe 
 in the summer go back whence they came, one 
 day, one day, they will not go back unless they are 
 driven. And it will be the same everywhere else. 
 One day — -pray God it may not be in my time — we 
 shall all wake up to find them in command of the 
 entire situation — everywhere. And then what will 
 remain for us to do, unless it be to hang ourselves 
 upon the nearest tree, supposing always they do 
 not save us that trouble by doing it for us ? No, 
 Monsieur, do not ask a Belgian who loves his 
 country whether he likes those people. Belgium is 
 too near a neighbour of theirs for her to view them 
 with anything but concern. Let England hope for 
 Germany's friendship if she will — and she is mad, I 
 tell you, to do so — but do not ask Belgium to look 
 for anything good from that quarter. I tell you 
 that those people have made up their minds to be 
 the inheritors of the earth — and not by meekness. 
 Examine them from here, through my door. Do 
 they not already comport themselves like conquerors ? 
 See how they strut and with what complacency they 
 roll their eyes over these fine sands of ours. There 
 are few beaches like this in their country. To-day 
 they bring their children here long journeys in the 
 train to play on our sands among our children. 
 But one day, unless we are all more careful than we 
 
 8
 
 Monsieur Segotin*s Story 
 
 are, there will be none of our children in summer 
 on these sands. Only theirs. Ours will be working 
 as slaves in their great factories. And yours, 
 Monsieur ? And yours ? What will be the lot of 
 yours, when Blankcnberghe is in Germany ? Well, 
 let us hope it may not be in our time." 
 
 I need hardly say how much the old gentleman 
 amused me with his blood-curdling suggestions, nor 
 how ready I was with arguments to prove that he 
 was utterly mistaken. In those days nothing was 
 easier than to blow the German danger away down 
 the wind. But this is beside the question at present, 
 when we know what we know; and I can serve no use- 
 ful purpose by insisting further upon my own folly. 
 
 Ever since the war began I had naturally been 
 wondering what had come of it to my poor old friend 
 M. Segotin. That he was ruined like every other 
 Belgian I felt no doubt at all ; that he was dead 
 I very much feared — unless it be that I hoped it. 
 For to a man with the passionate love of his own 
 country which was his, death would, I felt, be 
 very desirable in these latter days. That he had 
 not come to England in the great migration I was 
 pretty certain. He knew my address, and would 
 surely have communicated with me had he come 
 over the North Sea. Of course I had no means of 
 finding out anything about him. His little home 
 town of Saint Hilaire had been swallowed up within 
 a few days by the tide of invasion. I had not been 
 in Belgium in the summer of 19 14. I supposed, 
 though, that he would have been at Blankcnberghe 
 
 9 ^
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 as usual when the war broke out. But that town 
 too had quickly fallen into German hands, and no 
 inquiries could be made there. As for his sister who 
 lived in England I never thought of her. I had 
 forgotten that she existed. And so I resigned myself 
 to ignorance of M. Segotin's fate, until better times 
 should make it possible for me to attempt to get some 
 information about it. 
 
 Conceive, then, my pleasure when the other 
 day (to be precise, upon the 3rd of May, 1917, at 
 a few minutes before seven— such joyful dates 
 should be well remembered) I ran into the old 
 gentleman in Shaftesbury Avenue. I uttered so 
 loud a shout of surprise and gladness that every 
 passer-by within a hundred yards turned to see 
 what was happening. Little cared I for their 
 curiosity. With one hand already I was pump- 
 handling M. Segotin's arm and patting him on the 
 back with the other. Next moment I had run him 
 into the Monico, plumped him down on a divan, 
 and ordered a dinner of the best. Then only I 
 had leisure properly to examine my capture. 
 
 Except that his hair, which used to be grey, 
 was now all white, and that his face was thinner and 
 had more lines in it than formerly, he was in no way 
 changed. Four years, however, had elapsed since 
 we had met, and so much time might well account 
 for these signs of advancing age. It was only when 
 I looked into his eyes that I saw what he had been 
 through; but that which I saw not eternity itself 
 would be long enough alone to set there. 
 
 10
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 I sought in talk escape from the message of those 
 eyes. 
 
 *' And so," I said, " here you are safe and sound. 
 When did you arrive and where are you staying ? '* 
 
 " I arrived," said M. Segotin, " nearly seven 
 weeks ago, and I am staying with my sister." 
 
 " Your sister," I cried, " but of course. Where 
 else ? I wish I had known how to find that 'sister. 
 She would have relieved my mind about you, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " I think not," said he. ** You see, for some little 
 time past I have been dead and buried and in hell, 
 and she and the little ones have known no more of 
 my whereabouts than yourself. For the little ones 
 are with her too." 
 
 " That, too," said I, "is good news. I wish I 
 had known. I owe those two young ladies some kind 
 memories which I would be glad to do something to 
 repay. Well, it seems that it is not too late. Soon 
 we must all dine together to celebrate this fortunate 
 reunion. But when did they come to England } " 
 
 *' At the very first of it," he said. " Indeed, 
 earlier than that. I saw very clearly how things 
 were going, and I dispatched them in the end of 
 July. They were loath to go, but I was firm. My 
 pretext was the slackness of business. Blanken- 
 berghe was emptying fast. Those people knew 
 what was coming, and the homing instinct was 
 strong upon them. It was this which would have 
 convinced me had I needed to be convinced. But 
 ever since that business at Sarajevo I had known in 
 
 II B 2
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 my bones that we were in for it. Of course to the 
 little ones I made light of the threat of war. They 
 would not have gone else. Women do not see things 
 always clearly. It was a good opportunity, I told 
 them, for the visit so long promised to their aunt 
 in England. I could do without them easily. This 
 silly talk of war had driven people from Blanken- 
 berghe-. I took in a young fellow of the town to 
 help and I sent them off, promising to come and 
 fetch them home in a few weeks. But what does 
 it matter how I managed it. I managed it. And 
 when their steamboat had got out to sea — well, 
 then I was able at last to breathe a little freely. It 
 was like a weight off my chest. I wrote a letter 
 to my sister telling her to keep them with her until 
 further notice, and then I posted it and then I took 
 the tram back to Blankenberghe. That was done. 
 It only remained to see what should happen." 
 
 " And you .? " I asked. " You did not think it 
 well to go to England also ? " 
 
 '' I ? " he said. '' Oh, I am an old man. I 
 have lived most of my life. And if war was coming 
 into Belgium it was not the time for Belgians to 
 be going away. There would be plenty to do for 
 anybody who should have a head on his shoulders. 
 And at the worst of it they could only kill me. 
 But, my good Monsieur, any country where those 
 people should come in war was a place for women 
 to be out of. They were bad in 1870 in France ; 
 but now they had forty more years of their philosophy 
 behind them, and what happened in France in 1870 
 
 12
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story ^_ 
 
 was, I perceived, to be child's play to what was going 
 now to happen in Belgium. Yes, I was decidedly 
 relieved when my two little ones were carried out 
 beyond the harbour mouth of Ostend." 
 
 " You had no confidence in the Belgian Army ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " I had every confidence in the Belgian Army that 
 it would do heroic things and prove itself worthy ; 
 but look you, my dear Monsieur, miracles of the 
 kind you suggest do jiot happen. David's pebble 
 laid Goliath low, yes. But you cannot with one 
 lucky shot knock out an army like the army of those 
 people. I knew that the Belgian Army would do 
 what it could. But to the army of those people 
 I knew it was no more than a mouthful. That it 
 should have held them back as it did is sufficiently 
 miraculous. I never expected a quarter so much. 
 You see, I had studied this question, and I knew 
 something, though only a little, of what the Germans 
 had prepared for us. I believed that they would 
 drive through Belgium as the waters of a burst 
 dam drive through a village of straw huts. I believed 
 that they vvould be in Paris within a week, for I 
 never doubted of the road they would take. Belgium 
 lay all open ; the French-Belgian frontier lay all 
 open. It was not in those people to neglect so 
 rare a chance. And if they could smash France 
 they could turn on Russia and smash her too, and 
 then they would not give a pudding's end for the 
 intervention of England. That was how I read the 
 future. It was, for me, the end of the world, and 
 
 13
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 the sooner I was done with the world the better. 
 So I went back to the shop and sold a few cigars 
 that afternoon and sat down to wait for that which 
 was to come. But " — and M. Segotin sipped 
 comfortably from his glass — " I w^as wrong, you see. 
 Three years have gone by and I am still alive, and 
 I am once more hopeful. Those people have done 
 their worst, and the world has not yet come to an 
 end. Indeed it may be that it is only beginning 
 again. There are signs, Monsieur, there are signs 
 of a new birth among the nations. Perhaps, after 
 all, it is grateful that we ought to be to those people. 
 They have wakened us up. We were drifting, with 
 closed eyes, pleasantly along towards a horror 
 besides which even this war would have been a 
 bagatelle. And what we have all to do is to seize 
 upon that piece of knowledge, yes, and act upon it. 
 For the danger is still there, unless those people 
 are definitely shown that the world will have none 
 of their ideas. 
 
 " Yet I hear talk in London of the impossibility 
 of crushing the sixty millions of our friends across 
 the North Sea. I hear talk of their being dis- 
 illusioned by their failure. People tell me that they 
 \vill never try again. But, my good Monsieur, 
 whether it be impossible or not to crush them, it 
 has got to be done. For they will otherwise assuredly 
 try again. What ! are we to allow them to believe 
 that they have been able to hold the entire world 
 by the throat for three years and at the end to make 
 a peace in which they will have a word to say ? Do 
 
 ^4
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 you think that that is the way to give them a new 
 heart ? ' Next time,' they will say to themselves, 
 ' next time we must do better.' That will be all. 
 And next time, mark me, they will do better — much 
 better. Twenty years, thirty years, forty, fifty, a 
 hundred, they will give to it ; but when next they 
 strike, well, there will be no miracles going then ; 
 no Marne, for example. They will walk over us. 
 
 ** You say we shall know better. We will know 
 no better. In 1870 the world had its lesson if it had 
 had eyes to read, yes, and a score of such lessons 
 before that. And we shall forget. The new genera- 
 tions will come to believe in the good will of 
 Germany as we did. Germany will see to that. 
 But when her hour again strikes it will be finis- 
 The entire earth will be swallowed at a gulp, and 
 we shall have the days of Assyria back again every- 
 where between the two poles. There will be the 
 Germans and there will be their slaves, and that 
 will be all. And the beautiful earth will yield her 
 treasures and her joys not for mankind as was 
 intended, but for its masters. 
 
 '* You see, my friend," M. Segotin continued after 
 another slow sip, *' I know what I am saying. In 
 England you have still no notion of the reality of 
 the danger which the world, and you with it, have 
 for the moment escaped. But in Belgium we are 
 in a better position to judge. And I — I, Aristide 
 Gustave Segotin, three years slave to those people, 
 I tell you that it is not amusing to live with their 
 yoke upon the shoulders. 
 
 15
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 ** If you will listen to for me a little half hour " 
 
 " But," I said, " I will listen to you all night, 
 my dear M. Segotin. I am here for that very 
 purpose." 
 
 " Then," said he, ** you shall have it. I have 
 given it before and I have got it into shape for the 
 telling, and no Englishman or other man who shall 
 be ready to hear it from me shall be disappointed. 
 For these are things, look you, which must be told 
 and told everywhere, lest the easy-going optimistic 
 fools prevail when it shall come to a settlement and 
 those people be given another chance to turn God's 
 good earth for their own profit into a slave market. 
 
 " Listen, then," he continued. " As you know, 
 I had not long to wait ; only a little over a fortnight. 
 All that is old history — the ultimatum to Belgium, 
 her refusal of it, and the immediate invasion of her 
 territory. It was time for me to be leaving off my 
 sea baths and my constitutional exercises on the 
 digue, and to be getting back to my own place. 
 But first, do you know what I did ? 
 
 " With the help of my young assistant I carried 
 out the whole of my stock on to the sands at low 
 water and there I made a neat little pile ot it. Over 
 this pile I poured some gallons of paraffin oil and 
 then I put a match to it. One of the first fires that 
 the war lit in Belgium, my friend, but not the last- 
 To my neighbours, who were waiting confidently 
 for the news of victory, it was an act of madness ; 
 to me it was a symbol. 
 
 *' It was also a satisfaction. Those cigars, those 
 
 i6
 
 Monsieur Scgotin's Story 
 
 cigarettes, that pipe tobacco, the Germans would 
 
 never smoke. I might have sent all that stuff to 
 
 our own army, you say, you who have seen that sort 
 
 of thing organised in England so easily and so well. 
 
 But in England time was given to you to organise. 
 
 You have the sea between you and the rest of the 
 
 world. But I ask you to consider what was the 
 
 ■ condition of affairs at this moment in Belgium. 
 
 In the hour of mobilisation a country has other 
 
 things to think about than organising the benevolence 
 
 of its civilians. Besides, I too had no time. I 
 
 wished to be in Saint Hilaire at once, and I could 
 
 not risk that my choice tobacco should be enjoyed 
 
 by those people. And so my fire was lit. It was a 
 
 brilliant spectacle. Monsieur. The children of 
 
 Blankenberghe enjoyed it vastly. Their parents, 
 
 however, disapproved. ' What sinful waste,' they 
 
 said, ' is here ! This should all have been given to 
 
 the poor ' ; and they looked on with longing eyes 
 
 as I fed my flames with hundreds and fifties of 
 
 Upmanns and Laranagas. But not one box did 
 
 they secure for themselves. My young assistant 
 
 and I were very vigilant. This done, I made up a 
 
 little bag of things and set out for Saint Hilaire. 
 
 It was not easy to get there, for the railways were 
 
 over- busy carrying soldiers and material of war 
 
 eastwards ; but I arrived in time, as one always 
 
 does — as one always does, my good Monsieur, if 
 
 only one can endure. 
 
 " I need not worry you with any account of what 
 happened at Saint Hilaire until the Germans came.
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 I daresay you can imagine it for yourself. At Saint 
 Hilaire it was the same as at other places, at all other 
 places in Belgium and North-Eastern France. Some 
 of us fled ; some of us remained. Some of us hoped 
 and boasted ; others of us despaired and wept. 
 Some of us became foolish ; others kept their wits. 
 We read what the newspapers gave us, and we drew 
 our conclusions according to our ability and our 
 temperament or our knowledge. Only one thing was 
 clear ; the Germans were coming on. Only one 
 thing was disputable : whether they would be 
 stopped. Well, they came at last, and there we 
 were, face to face with the fact of their presence, 
 to make of it what we could. 
 
 " Their fame had naturally preceded them. We 
 had had time to learn something of what we were in 
 for and to take our measures accordingly. On one 
 thing we were agreed. They were to be given no 
 excuse for outrage. Let them manufacture excuse 
 if they pleased ; upon them alone the responsibility 
 for evil work should rest. I think we fully understood 
 the folly and madness of resistance. The man who 
 in such circumstances, whatever his provocation — 
 I say whatever his provocation— gives an excuse to 
 the invader to start a general massacre of his neigh- 
 bours is a bad citizen. No man's private honour, 
 dignity, property or what you will is to be vindicated 
 at the expense of a whole town. We received our 
 guests without enthusiasm — that would perhaps 
 have been too much to expect — but submissively. 
 W^e were as quiet and discreet as it was possible to 
 
 i8
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 be. It so happened that the soldiers who took 
 possession of us were not a particularly offensive 
 lot of men. They were brutal and overbearing, of 
 course — were they not Germans in a conquered and 
 helpless town ? — but they did not massacre us. 
 They invented no pretext for anything of the sort. 
 They requisitioned our food and drink and tobacco 
 and everything else they happened to require, but 
 they spared our women and children and they did 
 not burn our houses over our heads, and there were 
 no fusillades. Hostages they took, of course — 
 was I not one of them ? — but we were only required 
 to report ourselves every day and otherwise we 
 were permitted to go about our affairs — such as 
 were left to us — untroubled. 
 
 " I suppose they felt that enough had been done, 
 for the time, to terrorise the country. They were 
 still in the full flood of their victorious advance, 
 and expected to be done with the war in a month or 
 two. So long as Saint Hilaire remained quiet they 
 had nothing to gain by murder and arson and rape. 
 At any rate, whatever the cause of it may be, I have 
 no terrible tales of atrocity to communicate to you 
 concerning the early German occupation of Saint 
 Hilaire. 
 
 " But I would not have you suppose that we were 
 happy. No ; one is not happy when these people are 
 in possession of one's town. Happiness demands 
 at least a certain measure of freedom from appre- 
 hension ; and apprehension oppressed every one of 
 us from the moment of their arrival. It was like 
 
 !(, C 2
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 living over a mine which at any moment might be 
 touched off and send us all to eternity together. 
 It was worse. For a irAne is a merciful business 
 compared with the punishment which the German 
 soldiers can deal out to a town which has offended 
 them or which, for their own purposes, they have 
 decided shall be presumed to have offended them. 
 I have said that they did uot treat us with any open 
 violence. Indeed, many of them used towards us 
 a certain barbarous geniality. I really believe that 
 these men imagined that we ought to be very glad 
 that the German Eagle had spread its protecting 
 wing over Belgium. They announced their victories 
 to us with more than an evident expectation that we 
 would share their pleasure and they seemed amazed 
 when we did not break out into hearty cheering. 
 But that is Germany. She is so wholly convinced 
 of her mission to set the rest of the world to rights 
 that she cannot conceive how it should happen 
 that everyone else is not of the same opinion. 
 
 " Yet though, for the moment, they were not 
 openly outrageous, we knev/ that if it should suit 
 their book they would embark upon a course of 
 loot and murder and outrage without the smallest 
 remorse or hesitation. Bullocks might feel as we 
 did, were they endowed with human intelligence, 
 when their farmer walks among them. Until 
 their market is ready they may browse in peace, 
 safe from every injury ; but let the buyer give the 
 word and write his cheque and the poleaxe is their 
 portion.
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 ** Yes, my dear Monsieur, that was Germany's 
 attitude to the Belgians from the first. You have 
 seen von Emmich's proclamation to the country, 
 the proclama ion which the German Army carried 
 with it across the Belgian frontier on the 4th of 
 August. ' To my very great regret — under the 
 constraint of unavoidab'e necessity — Germany is 
 compelled to invade Belgium. It is my greatest 
 wish that a conflict between the two nations, once 
 allies, may be avoided. Remember the glorious 
 days of Waterloo. A free passage to attack France 
 is all we desire. I give a formal pledge to the 
 Belgian population that it will have nothing to suffer 
 from the horrors of war. Et patiti et patita. But 
 we must have free passage. It is for you to choose.' 
 
 *' Well, we chose. It is our glory ; but it has been 
 our ruin, though I would not have it otherwise. 
 We chose, and thereupon the glorious days of 
 Waterloo faded into the background to be replaced 
 by the glorious days of Louvain and Liege and 
 Andenne. 
 
 " That is ever the German way : first the smiling 
 face or, if that fails, the fist straight between the 
 eyes. After that, anything you please. No, those 
 people do not go in for half measures. You must 
 be their ally or their slave and, if you are their ally, 
 they must still be the masters, absolute and un- 
 questioned. 
 
 '* And so we were apprehensive and went about 
 with an extreme delicacy. You have heard of 
 Andenne ? We heard of it before you did, I expect. 
 
 21
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 That business took place on the 20th and 21st of 
 August. On the 22nd I was shown a poster that 
 had been put up that morning all over Liege 
 informing the town that Andenne had been reduced 
 to ashes and that no people had been shot because 
 the population, after receiving the Germans peace- 
 fully, had treacherously attacked them. This was 
 a sort of delicate hint to Liege to behave itself, you 
 understand. Yet one would have supposed that 
 the Germans might have spared themselves this 
 trouble, seeing that at Liege on that same night of 
 the 20th, twenty-nine civilians had been murdered 
 and fifty-five houses had been burned. 
 
 " The proclamation, my friend, is a leading feature 
 of German occupation. If the town in which these 
 people find themselves goes astray in any particular, 
 it is surely not for lack of instruction. From the 
 moment of the soldiers' entry into Saint Hilaire 
 it snowed posters and notices, green, orange, red, 
 blue and white. The walls of Saint Hilaire were the 
 only gay things in the place. Perhaps you would 
 like to know what sort of a regime it was which was 
 thus instituted. Yes ? Very good. Now listen, 
 and remember always that in Saint Hilaire we had 
 at first much less of which to complain than in many 
 a hundred other towns. My story is a dull one, I 
 know, void of spectacular incidents and sparing of 
 thrills and sensations ; but, beHeve me, all the horrors 
 are not spectacular, and a simple iron heel ground 
 steadily into one's neck for weeks and months and 
 years can have as deplorable an effect in the end upon 
 
 22
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 the physique as a quick shot through the heart or 
 the rather slower business of being crucified and 
 roasted ahve. Yes, Monsieur, it is possible to die 
 of too many orange and pink proclamations ; yes, 
 and to go mad first. I have seen it with these eyes. 
 " They began, then, like good Germans, by making 
 arrangements for their own comfort. They distri- 
 buted amongst us a large quantity of forms which 
 they had brought with them — for, mark you, these 
 people think of everything — and which each house- 
 holder was required to fill up and return to the mayor. 
 This form was a declaration first as to the number 
 of men, women and children in the household, and 
 then as to the quantity of provisions and other 
 commodities and animals in the possession of the 
 declarant, such as groceries of every kind, bottled 
 wine, champagne, common brands, liqueurs and 
 cognac, cigars, tobacco, motor-cars and their engines, 
 bicycles, candles, matches, petrol, horses (both cart 
 and riding) in working order, horses injured by 
 work, horses injured by projectiles, harness, oxen, 
 cows, pigs, sheep, calves, fowls, chickens, eggs, 
 though as far as the last were concerned they made 
 no distinction as to their age or as to their being 
 broken or no. Nor did they ask for ducks or 
 turkeys or geese. Strange omissions, but no doubt 
 they had their own reasons, for making them, since 
 they always have their reasons. They also left out 
 lambs and sucking-pigs, with ducklings, goslings 
 and chicken turkeys. It is a mystery why these 
 things were not scheduled. Perhaps it was a bit of 
 
 ■^3
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 preparation in case it should become necessary to 
 make an example of us. Somebody could have 
 been found to have withheld a duck or a gosling, 
 and then they would have had an excuse for a few 
 fusillades. But they made up for their forgetfulness 
 (if it was forgetfulness) by taking everything that 
 they had not mentioned by name, just as if it had 
 been put on the form. 
 
 " Then, lest any householder should have been left 
 out, they posted up brilliant green notices which 
 told us that these forms had been distributed, and 
 that they could be obtained at the Mairie, and must 
 be obtained by anyone who had not received one of 
 them. As if any living creature in that paralysed 
 little tov/n could be unaware that the whole of its 
 food supply was being taken from it ! 
 
 " They had stripped our larders, but your German 
 has a soul that can concern itself with more than 
 victuals and drink, whatever some people may say 
 of him. His desires include money. He is careful 
 to fill his belly, but he thinks also of his pocket. 
 And so our good friends proceeded to levy a contribu- 
 tion of cash upon the town. Nothing very tremen- 
 dous, you understand. Saint Hilaire is not a 
 Luneville to be bled to the tune of 650,000 francs 
 or a Brussels to be required to produce millions of 
 your pounds. Thirty thousand francs was all 
 they took from us to begin with ; but, my faith, 
 they would have been hard put to it to take more. 
 Their assessment was nicely calculated. It would 
 seem as if they had known to a centime how much 
 
 24
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 we would be likely to scrape together, and indeed it 
 is very probable that they did. Like all the world, 
 we too had had our Germans amongst us in the days 
 before the war, good, fat, jolly fellows whom many 
 of us were glad to invite into our homes. Such 
 people have opportunities of making estimates as 
 they go about in a small community where everyone 
 knows all about everyone else. No doubt they 
 reported their discoveries. This contribution was 
 not called a contribution, you understand. It was 
 levied by way of security for our good behaviour, 
 and we were told by proclamation that it would be 
 refunded to the town if the inhabitants showed 
 themselves reasonable and committed no hostile 
 act. But the Germans are apparently still waiting 
 to assure themselves of Saint Hilaire's reasonableness. 
 And, of course, so long as they are there, there is 
 always the possibility that a hostile act may be 
 committed. 
 
 " Having thus made arrangements by which we 
 should be prevented from eating ourselves to death, 
 or gambling ourselves into the workhouse, they set 
 about providing for the maintenance of order and 
 tranquillity in the town. 
 
 '* They plastered our walls with orange papers 
 which forbade us to leave our houses during the 
 daytime except for absolutely necessary purposes, 
 in order, for instance, to buy provisions — and from 
 whom, dear God } — or to water cattle. At night 
 we were absolutely forbidden to leave our houses 
 after six o'clock in any circumstances whatever. 
 
 25
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 The cafes were to be closed at five. Anyone who 
 should attempt to leave the town by night or day 
 upon any pretext whatever would be shot. We 
 were not to dig potatoes except with their consent 
 and under military supervision. Their sentinels 
 and patrols were authorised to fire (at their own 
 discretion, please observe) on anyone who should 
 depart from these directions. 
 
 " Well, that at any rate put an end to any junketing 
 in the streets. The Pax Germanica had fallen upon 
 the town, which might have been a dead one. 
 Decency was observed in our streets, I promise 
 you, in so far as their lawful inhabitants were con- 
 cerned. It was hardly worth while to take the air 
 with one's sweetheart if the consequences were to 
 be a bullet from the first sentry who chose to loose 
 off his rifle by way of distracting the monotony 
 of his existence. 
 
 " But you must not think that the town was not gay 
 at night. On the contrary, we lived in a perpetual 
 illumination. For a new poster had gone up by 
 which we were instructed to keep a light burning 
 in all rooms which looked on to the street. Not 
 only this, but all our front doors were to be left 
 constantly open, so as to afford the military 
 authorities access to the houses. The town wore 
 thus an appearance both hospitable and festive, but 
 can you conceive it, my dear Monsieur ? A whole 
 town lit from cellar to garret, every house door 
 standing open and not a soul abroad save a few 
 sinister figures in spiked helmets with rifles on 
 
 26
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 their shoulders. Can you imagine the anxious 
 care with which these lights were maintained by 
 the inhabitants ? For the extinction of so much as 
 one of them might be the signal for a bullet through 
 a window, behind which it might find a beloved 
 bosom to pierce. And can you figure to yourself 
 the security in which those families slept at night, 
 with their front door open to the first comer and 
 that, maybe, a drunken German } Yes, my friend, 
 it looked festive, but it was otherwise, I do assure 
 you. 
 
 " And remember that there was not one of us who 
 did not expect at any moment a general massacre 
 to begin. Though we had been spared that atten- 
 tion so far, we had no reason for anticipating the 
 continuance of such a condition. Why, a door 
 could not slam without our hearts leaping out of 
 our mouths ; a child could not begin crying without 
 our believing that the end had come. Nervousness ? 
 Well, perhaps it was nervousness, but I doubt if 
 nervousness ever had a better excuse. Our Germans 
 were, for Germans, apparently of a not altogether 
 abominable kind ; but it is thus with those people, 
 Monsieur. One never knows. I daresay the poor 
 souls who died in many a score of Belgian and French 
 villages imagined, up to within a few minutes of 
 their death-agony, that ' their Germans ' were not 
 such bad examples of the breed, after all. There is 
 to me something inconceivable about a people that 
 can crack a joke with you one minute and blow out 
 your brains the next simply because an order has 
 
 27
 
 7vlonsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 been given. And, mark, that while the joke is 
 being cracked, the order is being awaited. 
 
 " I have told you that I was a hostage. Yes, I had 
 that dubious honour. We were six in number ; the 
 mayor, the cure, the schoolmaster, the postmaster, 
 the principal shopkeeper and your servant in his 
 quality of a landowner. Saint Hiiaire is little more 
 than a village, and the community is a simple one. 
 We have few notables amongst us, and our visitors 
 had to put up with what they could find in the way 
 of important persons. It was, as it happened, a 
 formality for us. We had as much liberty as our 
 neighbours ; only we were required to report our- 
 selves each morning at ten o'clock. But, again, one 
 never knew. 
 
 " On the Mairie, on the church door, outside the 
 post office and in a score of other places up and down 
 our streets great green papers announced our names 
 in full and in large, for all the world to see. And as 
 we went along between our homes and the place 
 where we were required to present ourselves, at 
 every corner each of us was mildly reminded that, 
 should there be the least disorder, he would be shot. 
 That w^as the expression — ' the least disorder,' And 
 will you tell me, my good Monsieur, what that 
 might precisely mean. It seemed, at any rate to 
 us, the hostages, an expression of rather too much 
 elasticity. You see one had knowledge of some 
 examples of such ' disorder.' Aerschot, Dinant and 
 Louvain had all been given over to the mercies of 
 the German soldiers because of ' disorder ' which had 
 
 28
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 occurred in those towns. And in what did this 
 ' disorder ' consist ? At Aerschot a German had 
 fired into the air ; at Dinant French soldiers had 
 fired at German soldiers in the ordinary way of 
 war ; at Louvain German soldiers had fired on one 
 another. It seemed only wanting that at Saint 
 Hilaire a German soldier should commit suicide, 
 for such ' disorder ' to result in the execution of us 
 its hostages and thereafter in the massacre of most 
 of the population. There was another notice for us 
 to read as we went along. This was the proclama- 
 tion of von der Goltz, the German general, dated 
 from Brussels. I have it by heart, for it is one of 
 their masterpieces, and I read it again and again, 
 always with fresh amazement. This is how it ran : 
 
 " ' In future the inhabitants of places situated 
 near railways and telegraph lines which have been 
 destroyed will be punished without mercy whether 
 they are guilty of this destruction or not. For 
 this purpose hostages have been taken in all places 
 in the vicinity of railways in danger of similar 
 attacks ; and at the first attempt to destroy any 
 railway, telegraph or telephone line, they will be 
 shot immediately.' 
 
 " Saint Hilaire, my friend, is a small place, but it 
 is not without its railway station, its telegraph and 
 its telephone. But it was not this reflection which 
 was uppermost with me whenever I read that 
 enormity on the walls. You have no doubt seized 
 upon the words which I found of so much significance. 
 Yes. ' Whether they are guilty or not.' There 
 
 2Q
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 speaks the essential German. A telephone or a 
 telegraph wire is cut ; a railway bridge is blown up. 
 So ! it is inconvenient for the German Army, that. 
 Who did it ? Belgian soldiers } Belgian civilians ? 
 There is no time to consider that. We make war 
 not upon the army but upon the whole country. 
 That is our theory of war. That is the only true 
 theory of war. Is it not ours, donnerwetter ? And 
 we have been put to inconvenience. Such acts 
 hinder the march of Kultur. So ! Well, they must 
 be stopped. And since we cannot lay hands on the 
 Belgian soldiers who assuredly did this thing, as 
 it was their duty to do, let us be satisfied with what 
 we can lay our hands upon. Civilians are plenty 
 and easy. Come, then, let us put a few villages to 
 the sword and torch in this neighbourhood. That 
 will perhaps teach the Belgian Army to let our 
 communications alone. Let us shoot a few hostages, 
 say twenty — or perhaps thirty, to be on the safe side. 
 And let us not be afraid to announce our readiness 
 to kill innocent people, if it should so fall out. 
 Better that a thousand innocent Belgians should die 
 than one guilty German. And these cuttings of 
 the wires endanger German lives, by prolonging 
 the operations. Come, then, shoot me this batch 
 of hostages. Blot out this village and this and this, 
 and let us get on with the civilisation of humanity. 
 This is the way we do things. Therefore it is right. 
 Innocence } Guilt ? What do those words mean ? 
 We have done with all that. We attach importance 
 only to such words as ' strong ' and ' weak, 
 
 30
 
 Monsieur Sego tin's Story ^^^'^•^v.^ 
 
 ' German ' and * non-German.' Our opponents 
 say that Right is Might, Very good. Then in that 
 case, ha ! ha ! Might must be Right, and we are 
 mighty, aren't we ? But enough of jesting. War 
 is a ^stern business. Load, aim, fire ! And now, 
 Nach Paris ! once more. 
 
 " Yes, my friend, my fellow hostages and I had 
 plenty to think about as we went to give our masters 
 our morning salute. We knew that, any day, on our 
 arrival at the military headquarters we might be 
 informed that some ' disorder,' some gross infringe- 
 ment of the regulations had occurred — some house 
 door had been blown to by the wind or some candle 
 had been forgotten — and that we were to be shot, 
 by way of breakfast. We knew well that to be a 
 hostage with the German Army was for a man to 
 take the chances of a thousand to one against his 
 not being shot, either by his captors in expiation of 
 some so-called offence by his fellows-citizens, or, more 
 tragically still, by his fellow-countrymen, while being 
 driven in front of the Germans as a living screen. 
 The battle front was far from Saint Hilaire, and this 
 second fate was an unlikely one for any of us. But 
 one never knew. The tide of battle might roll back 
 upon us. And then ! Well, meanwhile, our 
 immediate anxiety of every morning was enough for 
 us to deal with. I am an old man and I cared little 
 for life in those days, but even so I could have 
 dispensed with that every-morning doubt. As for 
 my colleague, the shopkeeper, he was very fond of 
 his life, and the thing preyed upon his mind to such 
 
 31
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 an extent that he ended by cutting his throat. That 
 is amusing, eh ? The Germans were amused, at 
 any rate. They made up a Httle song about it and 
 sang it in the streets. But first they chose another 
 hostage ; they were careful to do that, of course. 
 
 " As not more than three people were allowed to 
 be together out of doors, the funeral of our friend 
 was a very quiet one, at least as far as we were 
 concerned. The Germans attended it, however, 
 and sang their song. Perhaps their design was to 
 cheer the widow up. 
 
 '* This prohibition of assemblies had been made 
 by yet another proclamation. No doubt the measure 
 was a wise one. We had all been required (under 
 pain of death) to deliver up such poor weapons as 
 we had ; our guests were taking no risks, and who 
 knew if the order had been strictly obeyed ? Now 
 suppose a few desperate characters had retained 
 their pistols, and suppose four of them had got 
 together and made an attack. One or two Germans 
 might have received injuries. They were a hundred 
 and fifty in number, and they were all armed to 
 the teeth, and they had some machine-guns with 
 them ; and so they felt pretty confident of not being 
 actually worsted ; but the blood of a German soldier 
 is, as we know, a fluid that is not to be spilled if 
 precautions can keep it in his veins. At any rate if, 
 during the daytime, two of us, going about our 
 ' absolutely necessary purposes,' happened to meet 
 a third, we all hastened to separate lest a fourth 
 should, by some accident, add himself to our number 
 
 ^2
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 and the machine-guns be set to work to clear the 
 streets of a riotous assemblage. 
 
 *' And now, lest we should seek comfort for our 
 earthly miseries by taking a glance heavenwards 
 now and then ; lest we should turn our eyes from 
 the sad spectacle of our poor little hushed town, and 
 the wearers of spiked helmets who swaggered about 
 in it, to solace them with a glimpse of God's beautiful 
 sky and the assurance that the sun was still alight 
 in it ; behold ! another plague of posters to inform 
 us that it would be very imprudent for us, even out 
 of simple curiosity, to follow too attentively the 
 manoeuvres of aircraft that might happen to fly 
 over our heads. The most severe penalties were 
 promised us should we attempt to make signals to 
 the aeroplanes of those who were endeavouring to 
 rescue us. It is, of course, always possible that 
 somebody in Saint Hilaire might have waved 
 encouragement to a French or a British aeroplane, 
 had it appeared and had anybody in the town at 
 that time known how to distinguish it from a German 
 one ; but such a natural movement might surely 
 have been punishable by something less than the 
 most severe penalties, death, for example. And it 
 was clear from that poster that any glance skywards, 
 even to see what weather was promised, might be 
 rewarded by a shot from a sentry. Yet the chances 
 against an aeroplane hostile to our masters arriving 
 over Saint Hilaire were, at that time, enormous. 
 However, so it was. Picture us, then, moving about 
 in the prosecution of our * absolutely necessary 
 
 33
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 purposes,' singly and with our eyes on the ground, 
 through those silent, sunUt streets, afraid to speak 
 to one another, afraid to raise our heads, our ears 
 strained for the crack of the rifle which should 
 shatter the silence or give the signal for a cataclysm. 
 Ah ! my good friend, if it was not gay in Saint 
 Hilaire by night, it was not by day either. 
 
 " Then our church bells were silenced lest by this 
 means communication with * the enemy ' (as they 
 called our friends) be opened up. God, Who knows 
 all things, may perhaps understand how the ringing 
 of an Angelus could convey information to an 
 * enemy ' that was beyond sound of a shot from 
 the biggest howitzer in the German Army, or what 
 information it could carry save that we still believed 
 in Him ; but this mystery was as far beyond our 
 comprehension as ' the enemy ' was beyond sound 
 of our bells. And so we lost yet another source of 
 consolation. For, believe me, my friend, there are 
 conditions of existence in which the voice of a church 
 bell can carry a message that is not without its value 
 to those who hear it, even though that value be not 
 connected with military affairs. 
 
 " It was also forbidden to us to approach, on any 
 pretext, the sick or wounded, even the dead, belonging 
 to the German armies, or the prisoners of war who 
 were under the protection — save the mark ! — of the 
 German armies. Not even by an occasional act of 
 kindness to a suffering or a miserable man might 
 we relieve our burdened hearts. To testify by so 
 much as a cigarette, by so much as a cheering word 
 
 34
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 or a smile, our gratitude to those who had lost 
 everything but hfe for us ; to exercise the Christian 
 duty of showing compassion to an enemy ; these 
 things were denied to us. To have given so much as 
 a glass of water to a poor fevered devil, friend or 
 foe, might have been to set our homes ablaze over 
 our heads. It is unnecessary to say that anything 
 that could be construed into concealment of or 
 assistance given to an escaped prisoner was punish- 
 able with instant execution. Already, very early 
 in the war, they had gone through Saint Hilaire 
 with a small tooth comb in their search for wounded 
 Belgian and French and English soldiers who might 
 have been concealed. At a given moment a house- 
 to-house visitation had been begun, every street 
 being occupied by German pickets and ten hostages 
 being taken from it. The proclamation which 
 preceded this search had promised death to these 
 hostages should any disorder occur in a street. 
 But no soldiers had been found ; no disturbances 
 had occurred ; no hostages had been shot. It had 
 proved a very tame affair. Yet it was always possible 
 that a prisoner of war might escape and take refuge 
 in Saint Hilaire. It was necessary to remind us 
 of the danger of harbouring such scoundrels. We 
 were encouraged in our obedience from time to 
 time by the exhibition of great posters which 
 announced the shooting of people in other places 
 who had incurred the displeasure of the Germans 
 by actions of this kind. The names of these un- 
 fortunates were printed in large black letters, even 
 
 35
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 as those of us, the hostages, had been printed. It 
 was impressive, I do assure you. Each man who read 
 such a notice said to himself, ' To-morrow one of 
 the names that people will read up there may be 
 the name of me, A. B., instead of that of this poor 
 C. D., or this E. F.,' or as the case might be. And 
 he turned sick as he read. It was not far from the 
 bitterness of death itself, my friend, not very far. 
 
 " Well, well, the reign of terror was established 
 amongst us, as you see, and pretty effectively. 
 Now, having got everything in order and to their 
 liking, our good Germans settled down to the 
 business of making the very most of us. It was a 
 simple business after all. It required no more than 
 the posting from time to time of a new assessment. 
 Belgium had had the effrontery to resist invasion, 
 to reject the divine protection of the HohenzoUerns. 
 By so doing she had constituted herself their prey, 
 had stripped herself of all rights and abandoned 
 every last claim to consideration. She was an orange 
 to be squeezed flat and dry, and those who held her 
 between their hands felt as little pity or remorse as 
 would you or I for a veritable orange that we should 
 have occasion to deprive of its juice for our drinking. 
 Belgium, my friend, is, in this particular, a type of 
 the whole world should those people hold it ever 
 at their mercy between their mailed fists. First they 
 took her food, then her money, then her machinery 
 and her household furniture and everything else 
 that was portable and lootable and then they took 
 her people. But this was not yet. Not then did 
 
 36
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 they feel the pressure which a roused world was*-to 
 exert upon them in their turn, that pressure which 
 was to put them at their wits' end to find hands 
 for the driving of their munition factories. They 
 had still plenty of German labour available, and 
 their armies were still well up to strength. They 
 could themselves still both fight and make shells. 
 And so they contented themselves for the time with 
 stripping their captive. Who shall ever say what 
 quantities of goods of every kind went Eastw^ards 
 over our railways to be swallowed up and lost 
 for ever beyond the frontier ? It was such a loot 
 as has never been seen, and, I pray heaven, will 
 never again be seen on this earth. All the robberies 
 of Rome were a bagatelle to it. For Rome had never 
 a land like Belgium to strip, and Rome never 
 possessed the means of transport which Belgium 
 could provide for her spoilers. Yes, when Germany 
 goes to war, she makes no bones about it. She is 
 thorough, thorough. Nothing is in her sight 
 negligible. Machine bands by the mile, engines and 
 machinery of every sort by the thousands of tons, 
 she took ; and while she took these, she did not scorn 
 to carry off our pianos and carpets, our bicycles, 
 our pots and our pans, our tables and chairs, the 
 pictures off our walls, the bells out of our churches 
 (the bells she had first silenced), the leaden pipes 
 and roofs of our houses, the jewellery of our women 
 (iron money — her own — she gave for this), and the 
 rubber rings that our babies cut their teeth on. 
 Nothing escaped her, if she thought that she could 
 
 37
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 find a use for it. Only, it would seem, was she 
 prepared, as someone said in history, ' to leave us 
 our eyes to weep with.' 
 
 *' But at last, suppose the Germans took alarm at the 
 condition of the people whom they had placed under 
 their ' protection.' Were they to allow them all 
 to starve to death, the opinion of the neutral world, 
 which at that time they still sought a little to con- 
 ciliate, might be aroused against them. And, no 
 doubt, they had, as I have suggested, a prevision 
 of the future utility of Belgian hands. All things 
 considered, they perceived the advisability of pro- 
 viding us with something to eat from time to time. 
 Their procedure was characteristically economical. 
 
 *' One day we were privileged to read a proclama- 
 tion which informed us that it was to our interest to 
 address a petition for food to the Swiss Govern- 
 ment. We were bidden to remember the help 
 which Switzerland so generously gave to the town 
 of Strasburg in the war of 1870. We were told 
 that a large part of the provisions of the occupied 
 districts had been carried off by the French and 
 English troops ; that now requisitions must continue 
 to be made for the benefit of the German Army. 
 We were assured that the German military authorities 
 recognised no obligation to feed us, and all the less 
 because Great Britain was endeavouring to blockade 
 Germany. Should we succeed in getting food from 
 Switzerland, we were guaranteed that it would be 
 distributed among us exclusively. Those of us who 
 should decline to approach Switzerland would get 
 
 38
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 none of the victuals. Finally the German Gov«*m- 
 ment offered to act as mediator between ourselves 
 and Switzerland in this delicate affair. 
 
 " Such things speak for themselves. It is hard 
 to say where in this war the Germans have touched 
 the height of their impudence, but surely this is a 
 sufficiently remarkable instance of it. So Switzer- 
 land was to be invited by us to ally herself with 
 Germany by feeding us in her place ! And you will 
 notice that disclaimer of responsibility for our 
 nourishment. We were to be invaded — I will not 
 say in breach of what solemn promise on the 
 invader's own part — we were to be massacred, our 
 towns were to be burnt, our property was to be 
 exported en masse into Germany, our money was 
 to be taken from us, our food was to be seized for 
 the German Army, yet no responsibility for us was 
 to attach to Germany. Let Switzerland, the generous, 
 the convenient, step in to save the situation and keep 
 the breath in those bodies which Germany already 
 destined for her factories. Bah ! Bah ! It is to be 
 sick to think of such things. Truly the hardest thing 
 to stomach about these people is their cant. For 
 it is not even dexterous cant. Ah ! this gives me a 
 bad taste in the mouth. Let us pass on. 
 
 " The posters and notices and proclamations were 
 daily multiplied. 
 
 '* I suppose it was with some idea of reconciling us 
 to their domination, by causing us to believe that 
 it could never be shaken off, that our masters 
 quickly began to set up bulletins of war news in 
 
 39
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 our streets. Not one but announced a German 
 or an Austrian victory. Had we believed, we must 
 have lost heart ; but we believed nothing. It was 
 a settled policy with us. We saw through the trick 
 at once, and the report of a German success had 
 only to be posted up for us to discredit it and to 
 tell ourselves that things were going badly for them. 
 And of course the real news leaked through some- 
 how, for all their precautions. News like that of 
 the Marne is carried by the wind, by the birds, by 
 the thoughts of men. It cannot be kept out. We 
 knew, we knew that they had been turned ; turned, 
 dear God, almost before the ink was dry upon their 
 posters that announced the rout of France and the 
 partial investment of Paris. But there is something, 
 Monsieur, almost admirable in the hardihood of 
 people who can behave in such a way. Think of 
 it. Their whole plan in ruins ; the quick victory 
 on which they had absolutely counted for success 
 lost ; themselves condemned to a stalemate at the 
 best and a war of years to a certainty. And yet they 
 could announce to us that their enemies were being 
 chased before them to the sea. With their own 
 people such conduct was intelligible. Their own 
 people, being convinced of the irresistible might of 
 Germany, would swallow any tale. But to expect 
 us, us, to believe ! It was lunacy. Yet the posters 
 followed one another regularly, and always the 
 Germans were winning and always France and 
 England and Russia were fleeing in disorder. And 
 we had only to glance at their Colonel's face to read 
 
 40
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 there what we wanted to know. As for the common 
 soldiers, they were, I suppose, the only people in 
 Saint Hilaire upon whom those notices produced 
 any impression at all. 
 
 " There was another curious placard. It seems 
 that they credited us with a desire to leave Saint 
 Hilaire, and that they feared lest their threats of 
 shooting might not prove a sufficient deterrent* 
 Already, no doubt, they foresaw the moment 
 when every able-bodied Belgian would have a 
 value in their eyes other than as a mark for rifle 
 practice ; I mean, the thought of the slavery to 
 come was even then in their minds. At any rate, to 
 discourage us from escaping into France — though 
 how we could have done so I leave you to imagine, 
 if you please — they set up a notice which informed 
 us that the cholera was raging on the other side of 
 the battle lines. Yet there was no cholera there 
 whatever. It was just a lie. But if it should serve 
 its purpose it was justified, one supposes, in their 
 sight. Or would they think it necessary to justify 
 such a small thing as a lie ? For, after all, what 
 are truth and falsehood and such things to a people 
 who have invented a morality for themselves ; whose 
 only touchstone is whether any given thing does or 
 does not serve the immediate purposes of Germany ? 
 
 *' Of course we were all numbered and ticketed and 
 registered and pigeon-holed and docketed and vised 
 and put on the file till we hardly knew whether we 
 were human beings or abstract numerals or pieces 
 of paper. To carry papers of identification is not 
 
 41
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 to us what it would be to you in England, for 
 the Continental peoples are accustomed to that sort 
 of thing ; but now we had to go through a perfor- 
 mance with the police or the military every time, 
 almost, we crossed the street ! If any of us had 
 occasion to take the train (I speak of days subsequent 
 to the gay times when the sentries were given 
 carte blanche to slaughter anyone who should be 
 seen leaving the town) he had to obtain permission 
 and identify himself all over again and have his 
 name and age and address put on his railway ticket. 
 Our very dogs were registered and shot if they were 
 not known to the authorities, while the owners of 
 such evil dogs were exorbitantly fined. To possess 
 carrier pigeons was an offence punishable by death. 
 We might not go near a railway line except at 
 certain places. Farmers might not go about in 
 their fields and woods except as the authorities 
 judged it suitable for them to do. To light a fire 
 out of doors, to carry a lighted lantern at night, to 
 approach an electric installation, to do this, that, and 
 the other were alike forbidden. You and I, my 
 friend, have jested together in other days about 
 that famous German word verboten. At Saint 
 Hilaire we learned to understand how little humour 
 it really contains. 
 
 " And, should these people ever realise their ambi- 
 tion, the whole world will learn it too. It is, believe 
 me, a word of infinite seriousness, and its scope 
 is quite without bounds. It is everywhere, like the 
 air one breathes, and it poisons that air 
 
 42
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 " But 1 am not going to weary you with a full 
 recital of our woes. To do that would take me a 
 month. I have at least shown you something of 
 what it is to live under German martial law. 
 
 " And now I must be making my way to my 
 sister's good and hospitable home, for she keeps 
 early hours, the dear woman. Her man is English, 
 as you know. A domesticated being. He has not 
 the cafe habit, and my sister and the little ones fear 
 for the old man if he is out late in this great London. 
 And they must not be made anxious. Another day 
 I will tell you of the deportation business, that 
 foulest of all the foul crimes that Germany has 
 committed in this war. You shall hear how they 
 carried off men, women and boys, yes, and young 
 girls, to replace the German labour which was 
 needed in their armies, and which lacked to their 
 munition works. You shall hear of the brutal 
 scenes that took place everywhere in Germany, the 
 heartrending separations, the crowding of human 
 beings into open cattle trucks, women throwing 
 themselves across the raihvay line to stop the trains, 
 men, who refused to go, bayoneted in cold blood. 
 You shall hear how they tried to starve our people 
 into submission, offering them food and money to 
 make shells to kill their own brothers and sons 
 and fathers. You shall hear of the girls they 
 carried off for purposes which I will not name. 
 But not now. 
 
 " Let me only, before I go, tell you how it came 
 about that I am to-day sitting by your side in this 
 
 43
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 cheerful restaurant and drinking the wine of Cham- 
 pagne — alas ! poor country ! — at your expense. 
 
 " It is soon told. I was among the deported. I, 
 Aristide Gustave Segotin, sixty-two years of age, 
 was appointed to perform labour behmd the firing 
 line. For contumacy, yes. No matter what I did ; 
 it was connected with the deportations. There 
 are some things. Monsieur, which flesh and blood 
 cannot endure, and I behaved contumaciously. A 
 year earlier I would have been shot out of hand for 
 my pains ; but latterly they have been a little 
 sparing of both their bullets and their beasts (I 
 mean us, the Belgian people). And so I was con- 
 demned myself to share in the deportations ; and 
 since I was a strong old fellow^ and highly contu- 
 macious, where better could I be sent than to the 
 battle lines, to dig trenches and carry sandbags 
 and do anything else wherein a reasonably active 
 old man could be serviceable ? 
 
 " Believe me, my friend, it was a pleasant change. 
 I was much more of a slave than at Saint Hilaire, 
 but I had no longer before my eyes the spectacle 
 of my native streets either silent under the menace 
 of brightly-coloured proclamations or echoing to 
 the screams of girls. And here, behind Bapaume, 
 it was always possible that a British shell might find 
 me out and do my business. Yes, I welcomed my 
 change of scene. 
 
 " I think you can see for yourself what happened. 
 Yes, when the Germans went back, I stayed behind. 
 It was not difficult. They were so busy clearing 
 
 44
 
 Monsieur Scgotin's Story 
 
 out themselves and laying the country in ruins 
 behind them that they for once became a httlc 
 careless about one old Belgian labourer. They 
 blew up every house they could, they cut down 
 every tree, they poisoned every v/ell witli liorse dung 
 and other beastliness — you know what they did as 
 well as I, though I saw it and you have only read. 
 And the method of it all ! Every soldier had his 
 orders. Such and such trees to be cut down, such 
 and such houses to be destroyed, such and such 
 wells to be rendered useless. And they had a perfect 
 little time-table for each day of destruction. On 
 such a day such wells to be poisoned, next day so 
 many more, until on the day appointed for departure 
 but one well remained with pure water in it. This 
 the last soldiers to leave were to ruin. Oh yes ! 
 it was methodical, that business. But at last it was 
 done and I, from my hole in the ground, saw them 
 go away Eastwards. 
 
 " Hell, no doubt, is something like that little town 
 of Bancourt by Bapaume when the Germans left 
 it ; but I am not going to be descriptive. That I 
 can leave with confidence to the journalists. It is 
 enough that the British soldiers did at last come 
 peering through the smoke and the stink, coughing 
 and sneezing and cursing because there were no 
 Germans for them. 
 
 " And so it was over, and I could once again go 
 about my affairs without the permission of the Ger- 
 man military authorities. A satisfactoiy condition of 
 things for me, my good Monsieur. It was not long 
 
 45
 
 Monsieur Segotin's Story 
 
 I promise you, before I had my two little ones 
 clinging about my neck. But let us avoid the 
 sentimental as we have avoided the sensational." 
 
 So saying, M. Segotin rose, handed me a card 
 with his address upon it, pressed both my hands 
 warmly, raised his hat and sauntered away from me 
 down the brightly-lit hall, humming a brave little 
 air. 
 
 At the door he turned to wave a hand to me 
 and smile adieu. 
 
 And again I saw his eyes. 
 
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