PR CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM I'/Irs.H.S.WilliRms Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013644889 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE WORKS BY ALFRED NOYES Collected Poems. 2 Vols. The Wine-Pkess. Rada. Included in Collected Poems but published in separate volumes: Tales of the Mermaid Taveen Sherwood The Enchanted Island Other Poems Drake: An English Epic A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Being "Rada" rewritten and enlarged as an Episode of The Great War BY ALFRED NOYES WITH FOUR ILLUSTEAHONS NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYEIGHT, iglSi BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY Copyright, 1913, by ALFRED NOYES All Rights Reserved February, 191B DEDICATION Thou whose deep ways are in the sea, Whose footsteps are not known, To-night a world that turned from Thee Is waiting — at Thy Throne. The tdwering Babels that we raised Where scofiing sophists brawl. The little Antichrists we praised — The night is on them all. The fool hath said . . . The fool hath said And we, who deemed him wise, We, who believed that Thou wast dead. How should we seek Thine eyes? How should we seek to Thee for power. Who scorned Thee yesterday? How should we kneel in this dread hour? Lord, teach us how to pray. V vi DEDICATION Grant us the single heart once more That mocks no sacred thing, The Sword of Truth our fathers wore When Thou wast Lord and King. Let darkness unto darkness tell Our deep unspoken prayer; For, while our souls in darkness dwell, We know that Thou art there. ILLUSTRATIONS The Bayonets Frontispiece FACING PAGE "Over the Jaws of the Crowd" 14 " The Old Dance of Charlatans and Beasts " . . 22 The Vampire 52 PRELUDE Under which banner? It was night Beyond all nights that ever were. The Cross was broken. Blood-stained Might Moved like a tiger from its lair, And all that heaven had died to quell Awoke, and mingled earth with hell. For Europe, if it held a creed, Held it thro' custom, not thro' faith. Chaos returned in dream and deed, Right was a legend — ^Love, a wraith; And That from which the world began Was less than even the best in man. 1 PRELUDE God in the image of a snake Dethroned that dream, too fond, too blind, The man-shaped God whose heart could break, Live, die, and triumph with mankind; A Super-snake, a Juggernaut, Dethroned the Highest of human thought. Choose, England! For the eternal foe Within thee, as without, grew strong. By many a super-subtle blow Blurring the lines of right and wrong In Art and Thought, till nought seemed true But that soul-slaughtering cry of New! New wreckage of the shrines we made Thro' centuries of forgotten tears. . . . We knew not where their hands had laid Our Master. Twice a thousand years Had duUed the imcapricious sun. Manifold worlds obscured the One; PRELUDE Obscured the reign of Law, our stay, Our compass thro' the uncharted sea, The one sure light, the one sure way. The one firm base of Liberty; The one firm road that men have trod Thro' Chaos to the Throne of God. Choose ye! A hundred legions cried Dishonour, or the instant sword! Ye chose. Ye met that blood-stained tide. A little kingdom kept its word; And, dying, cried across the night, Hear us, earth, We chose the Right. Whose is the victory? Though ye stood Alone against the immeasured foe. By all the tears, by all the blood, That flowed, and have not ceased to flow. By all the legions that ye hurled Back thro' the thunder-shaken world; PRELUDE By the old that have not where to rest, By lands laid waste and hearths defiled, By every lacerated breast, And every mutilated child. Whose is the victory? Answer, ye Who, dying, smiled at tyranny: — Under the sky's triumphal arch The glories of the dawn begin. Our dead, our shadowy armies, march E'en now, in silence, thro' Berlin — Dumb shadows, tattered blood-stained ghosts. But cast by what swift following hosts! And answer, England! At thy side. Thro' seas of blood, thro' mists of tears, Thou that for Liberty hast died And livest, to the end of years. And answer, earth! Far oflF, I hear The paeans of a happier sphere: — PRELUDE The trumpet blown at Marathon Exulted over earth and sea: But burning angel lips have blffwn The trumpets of thy Liberty, For who, beside thy dead, could deem The faith, for which they died, a dream? Earth has not been the same, since then, Europe from thee received a soul, Whence nations moved in law, like men. As members of a mightier whole. Till wars were ended. ... In that day, So shall our children's children say. CHARACTERS Rada, wife of the village doctor. Bettine, her daughter, aged twelve. Brander ( German soldiers quartered in her house TareaschI during the occupation of the village. Nanko, an old, half-witted schoolmaster, living in the care of the doctor. He has a delusion that it is always Christmas Eve. German soldiers. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE The action takes place in a Belgian milage, dur- ing the War of 1^14. The scene is a room in the doctors house. On the right there is a door opening to the street, a window with red cur- tains, and a desk under the window. On the left there is a large cupboard with a door on either side of it, one leading to a bedroom and the other to the kitchen. At the back an open fire is burning brightly. Over the fireplace there is a reproduction in colours of the Dresden Ma- donna. The room is lit only by the firelight and two candles in brass candlesticks, on a black oak table, at which the two soldiers are seated, playing cards and drinking beer. Rada, a dark handsome woman, sits on a cou^h to the left of the fire, with her head bowed in her hands, weeping, 9 lo A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Nanko sits cross-legged on a rug before the fire, rubbing his hands, snapping his firh gers, and chuchling to himself. Tarrasch {Throwing down the cards\ Pish! You have all the luck. {He turns to Rada] Look here, my girl, where is the use of snivelling? We've been killing pigs all day and now we want to unbuckle a bit. You ought to think yourself infernally lucky to be alive at all, and I'm not sure that you wUl be so for- tunate when the other boys come back. Whee- dled them out of the house finely, didn't you? On a fine wHdgoose chase, too. Hidden money! Refugees don't bury their money and leave the secret behind them. You've been whimpering ever since we two refused to believe you. What's your game, eh? I warn you there'll be A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE ii Rada [Sobbing and burying her face.] God, be pitiful! Tareasch This is war, this is! And you can't expect war to be aU swans and shining armour. No — ^nor smart uniforms either. Look at the mud my friend and I have already annexed from Belgium. Brander, you know it's a most as- tonishing fact; but I have remarked it several times. Those women whose eyes glitter at the sight of a spiked hehnet are the first to be astonished by the reaUties of war. They expect the dead to jiunp up and kiss them and tell them it is all a game, as soon as the battlejs ended. No, no, my dear; it's only in war that one sees how small is one's personal happiness in comparison with greater things. Isn't it? [He fills a glass and drinks. Brander lights a cigar.] 12 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Nanko Exactly. In times of peace we forget those eternal silences. We value Ufe too highly. We become domesticated. Why, I suppose in this magnificent war there have been so many women and children killed that they would fill the great Cloth HaU at Ypres; and, as for the young men, there have been so many slaugh- tered that their dead bodies would fill St. Peter's at Rome. Why, I suppose they would fill the three hundred abbeys of Flanders and all the cathedrals in the world chock-full from floor to belfry, wouldn't they? How Goya would have loved to paint them! Can't you see it? [He grows ecstatic over the idea.] Toumai with its five clock-towers, Ghent, and Bruges, Louvain and Antwerp, Rheims and West- minster, A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 13 Under the round white moon, on Christmas Eve, With towers of frozen needlework and spires That point to God; but all their painted panes Bursting with dreadful arms and gaping faces. Gargoyles of flesh; and round them, in the snow, The little cardiaals, like gouts of blood. The little bishops, running like white mice. Hooded with violet spots, quite, quite dismayed To find there was no room for them within Upon that holy night when Christ was born. But perhaps if Goya were living to-day he would prefer to pack them into Chicago meat factories, with the intellectuals dancing outside like marionettes, and the unconscious Hand of God pulling the strings. You know one of their very latest theories is that He is a som- nambulist. 14 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Tarrasch [To Rada.] You should read Schopenhauer, my dear, and learn to estimate these emotions at their true value. You would then be able to laugh at these feelings which seem to you now so im- portant. It is the mark of Kultur to be able to laugh at all sentiments. Isn't it? Nanko The priests, I suppose, are stiU balancing themselves on the tight-rope, over the jaws of the crowd. The poor old Pope did his best for his Master, when the Emperor asked him for a blessing on his arms. "/ bless Peace," said the Pope; but nobody listened. I composed a Httle poem about that. I called it St. Peter's Christmas. It went like this: — And does the Cross of Christ still stand? Yes, though His friends may watch from far — o A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 15 And who is this at His right hand, This Rock in the red surf of war? This, this is he who once denied And turned and wept and turned again. Last night before an Emperor's pride He stood and blotted out that stain. Last night an Emperor bared the sword And bade him bless. He stood alone. Alone in all the world, his word Confessed — and blessed — a loftier throne. I hear, stiU travelling towards the Light, In widening waves tOl Time shall cease, The Power that breathed from Rome last night His infinite whisper — / hless Peace. [Tarrasch and Beander applatid ironically.] Taerasch Excellent! Excellent! [Jo Rada] You should have seen our brave soldiers laughing — do you remember, Brander — at a Uttle village near i6 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Termonde. They made the old vicar and his cook dance naked round the dead body of his wife, who had connived at the escape of her daughter from a Prussian ofl&cer. Naistko Ah, that was reaUty, wasn't it? None of your provincial respectability about that, none of your shallow conventionality! That's what the age wants — realism! Taeiiasch It was brutal, I confess; but better than British hypocrisy, eh? There was something great about it, like the neighing of the satyrs in the Venusberg music. Rada [Sinking on her knees by the couch and sobbing.] God! God! A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 17 Tarrasch They were beginning to find out the provin- ciahsm of their creeds in England. The pessi- mism of Schopenhauer had taught them much; and if it had not been for this Mist treachery, this last ridiculous outburst of the middle-class mind on behalf of what they call honour, we should have continued to tolerate (if not to enjoy), in Berlin, those plays by Irishmen which expose so wittily the inferior Kultur, the shrinking from reahty, of their (for the most part) not intellectual people. I have the honour, madam, to request that you should no longer make this unpleasant sound of weeping. You irritate my nerves. Have you not two men quartered upon you instead of one? And are they not university students? If your husband and the rest of the villagers had not resisted our advance, they might have been alive, too. In any case, your change is for the better. Isn't it? \He lights a cigar] i8 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Nanko Exactly! Exactly! You remember, Rada, I used to be a schoolmaster myself in the old days; and if you knew what / know, you wouldn't cry, my dear. You'd understand that it's entirely a question of the survival of the fittest. A biological necessity, that's what it is. And Haeckel himself has told us that, though we may resign our hopes of irmnortality, and the grave is the only future for our beloved ones, yet there is infinite consolation to be found in examining a piece of moss or looking at a beetle. That's what the Germans call the male intellect. Takrasch Is this man attempting to be insolent? [He rises as if to strike Nanko.] Brandeu [Tapping his forehead.] Take no notice of him. He's only a resident A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 19 patient. He was not calling you a beetle. He has delusions. He thinks it is always Christmas Eve. That's his little tree in the comer. As Goethe should have said — There was a little Christian. He had a little tree. Up came a Superman And cracked him, like a flea. Takrasch [Laughing.] Very good! You should send that to the Tageblatt, Brander. Well, Rada, or whatever your name is, you'd better find something for us to eat. I'm sick of this whimpering. Wouldn't your Belgian swine have massacred us all, if we'd given them the chance? We've thousands of women and children at home 20 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE snivelling and saying, "Oh! my God! Oh! my God!" just like you. Rada [Rising to her feet in stiMen anger.] Then why are you in Belgium, gentlemen? Is it the husks and chaff that the swine eat, Or is it simply butchery? [They stare at her in silence, overmastered for a moment by her passion. Then, her grief welling up again, she casts herself down on the couch, and buries her face in her hands, sobbing.] God! God! God! Brander Don't you trouble about God. What can He do when both sides go down on their mar- A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 21 row-bones? He can't make both sides win, can He? Nanko That's how the intellectuals prove He doesn't exist. Either He is not almighty, they say, or else He is imjust enough not to make both sides win. But all those anthropomorphic concep- tions are out of date now, even in England, as this gentleman very truly said. You see, it was so degrading, Rada, to think that God had anything in common with mankind (though love was once quite fashionable), and as we didn't know of anything higher than ourselves we were simply compelled to say that He re- sembled something lower, such as earthquakes, and tigers, and puppet-shows, and ideas of that sort. ReaUty above all things! You may see God in sunsets; but there was nothing real about the best quahties of mankind. It's curi- ous. The more intellectual and original you 22 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE are, the lower you have to go, and the more likely you are to end in the old dance of char- latans and beasts. I suppose that's an argu- ment for tradition and growth. If we call it Evolution, nobody will mind very much. Rada [Wringing her hands in an agony of grief.] Oh, God, be pitiful, be pitiful! Brander [Standing in front of her.] Look here, we've had enough of this music. I've been watching you, and there's more upon your mind than sorrow for the dead. Why were you so anxious to wheedle us aU out of the house? Tarrasch has warned you there'll be heU to pay when the others come back. What was the game, eh? You'd better tell me. You A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 23 couldn't have thought you were going to es- cape through our lines to-night. [There is a stidden uproar outside, and a woman's scream, followed by the terrified cry of a child.] Ah! Ah! Father! Brander Hear that. The men are mad with brandy and blood and — other things. There's no holding them in, even from the children. You needn't wince. Even from the children, I say. What chance would there be for a fine-looking wench like yourself? No, you were not going to try that. You've something to hide, here, in the house, eh? Well, now you've got rid of the others, and we've had a drink, we're going to look for it. What is there? [He points to the bedroom door.] 24 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Rada [Rising to her feet slowly, steadying herself with one hand on the couch and fixing her eyes on his face.] My bedroom. No. I've nothing here to hide. This is war, isn't it? If I choose to revenge myself on those that have used me badly, peo- ple that I hate, by telling you where you can find what everybody wants, money, money — I suppose you want that — isn't that good enough? Brajstder Better come with us, then, and show us this treasure-trove. Rada {Shrinking back] No, no, I dare not. AH those dead out there would terrify me, terrify me! A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 25 Tarrasch A pack of lies! What were you up to, eh? Telephoning to the English? Brander It has been too much for her nerves. Don't worry her, or she'll go mad. Then there'll be nobody left to get us our supper. [Taeeasch wanders round the room, opening drawers and examining letters and other contents at the desk.] Nanko That wotdd be selfish, Rada. You know it's Christmas Eve. Nobody ought to think of unpleasant things on Christmas Eve. What have you done with the Christmas-tree, Rada? 26 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Brander And who's to blame? That's what I want to know. You don't blame us, do you? We didn't know where we were marching a month ago; and possibly we shall be fighting on your side against somebody else, a year hence. Nanko Of course they didn't know! Poor soldiers don't. Tarrasch [Who has been trying the bedroom door.] In the meantime, what have you got behind that door? Give me the key. Rada [Hurriedly, and as if misunderstanding him, opens the cupboard. She speaks excitedly.] Food! Food! Food for himgry men. Food A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 27 enough for a wolf pack. Come on, help your- selves! Takrasch Look, Brander! What a larder! Here's a dinner for forty men. Isn't it? Rada Better take your pick before the others come. [She thrusts dishes into Brander's hands and loads TARiiASCH with bottles. They lay the table with them, Rada seeming to share their eagerness^ Brander [Looking at his hands.] Here! Bring me a basin of warm water. There are times when you can't touch food without washing your hands* 28 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE [Rada hesitates, then goes into the kitchen. Beander holds out a ring to Taehasch.] Her husband's ring. I got it off his finger When he went down. He lay there, doubled up, With one of those hideous belly wounds. He begged, Horribly, for a bullet; so, poor devil, I put him out of his misery. I can't eat With hands like that. Ugh! Look! Nanko [Rising and peering at them.] Ah, but they're red. Red, aren't they? And there's red on your coat, too. [He fingers it curiously.] I suppose that's blood, eh? People are such cowards. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 29 Many of them never seem to imderstand That man's a fighting animal. They're afraid, Dreadfully afraid, of the sight of blood. I think it's a beautiful colour, beautiful! You know, in the Old Testament, they used To splash it on the door-posts. Brander [Pushing Mm away.] Go and sit down, You crazy old devil! [Rada enters with a bowl of water, sets it on a chair, and returns to the couch. Brander washes his hands.] Tarrasch My hands want washing, too. My God, you've turned the water into wine. Get me some fresh. 30 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE [Rada approaches, stares at the bowl, and moves back, swaying a little.] Brander [Roughly.] I'll empty it. Give it to me. [He goes out.] Nanko The Old Testament, you know, is full of it. Who is this, it says, that cometh from Edom, In dyed garments from Bozrah? It was blood That dyed their garments. And in Revela- tions Blood came out of the wine-press, till it splashed The bridles of the horses; and the seas Were all turned into blood. Doesn't that show That man's a fighting animal? A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 31 Taeiiasch [Again fumbling at the bedroom door.] Give me the key. Rada [Thrusting herself between him and the door.] That is my bedroom. You must not go in. Tarrasch Are they so modest, then, in Belgium, madam? You're fooHng us. What is it? Loot? More loot? The family stocking, eh? [Brander enters. He goes to the table and be- gins eating.] Nanko The stocking? No! The stocking is in the chimney-corner, see. [He shakes an empty stocking that hangs in the fire-place] 32 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Bettine and I, we always hang it up Ready for Santa Claus. It's a good custom. They do it in Germany. The children there Believe that Santa Claus comes down the chim- ney. Takrasch If I know anything of women's eyes, It's either money, or a daughter, Rada. And so — the key! Or else I burst the door. Rada [Looks at Mm for a moment before speaking.] I throw myself upon your mercy, then. It is my Uttle girl. She is twelve years old. Don't wake her. She has slept all through this night. I thought I might have hidden her. It's too late. It's of the other men that I'm afraid, A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 33 Not you. But they are drunk. If they come back. . . . Help me to save her! I'll do anything for you, Anything! Only help me to get her away! I'll pray for you every night of my life. I'll pray. . . . [She stretches out her hands pitifully and begins to weep. The men stand staring at her. The door opens behind her, and Bettine, in her night-dress, steals into the room] Bettine Mother Oh! [She stops at sight of the strangers. Brander Don't be afraid. I'm Nanko's friend. What? Don't you know me? I came down the chimney. 34 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Bettine I don't see any soot upon your face. [She goes nearer.] Nor on your clothes. That's red paint,5sn't it? Brajsider Can't help it. Santa Claus — that is my name. What's yours? Bettine Bettine. Brander Ah! I've a little girl At home — about your age, too — called Bettine. Bettine [Who has been watching him curiously.] I know. You are the British. Mother said The British would be here before the Boches. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 35 I dreamed that you were coming, and I thought I heard the marching. Weren't you singing, too? It made me feel so happy in my sleep. What were you singing? "It's a long, long way To " what d' you call it? Tipperary? eh? What does that mean? Beander A place a long way off- Bettine As far as heaven? Brander Almost as far as — home. 36 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Bettine Well, I suppose it means the Boches must march A long, long way before they reach it, eh? There's Canada. They'U have to march through that. Then India, and that's huge. Why, Nanko says There are three hundred million people there, And aU their soldiers ride on elephants. Poor Boches! I'm sorry for them. Nanko says They're trying to ride across two thousand years In motor-cars. It's easy enough to ride Two thousand miles; but not two thousand years. [She runs to the stocking and examines it. Tarrasch and BRA>fDER return to the table and eat and drink.] A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 37 There's nothing in the stocking. Never mind, Nanko, when Christmas really comes, you'll see. [With a sudden note of fear in her voice.] Mother, where's father? Rada [Putting an arm round her.] He wiU soon be with us. It's all right, darling. Betteste Mother, mayn't we try The new times on the gramophone? Nanko Now, wait! I've an idea. It's Christmas Eve, you know. We'll celebrate it. Where's the Christmas-tree? We'll get that ready first. 38 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE [Bettine pvlls the little Christmas-tree out from the corner. Rada glances from the child to the men, as if hoping that her play will win them to help her.] Bettine It's nearly a week, Isn't it, Nanko, since you had your tree? Brander Here, put it on the table. Nanko {Clapping his hands.] Yes, that's best. I fear that we shall want a new tree, soon. This one is withered. See how the needles drop. There's no green left. It's growing old, Bettine. What shall we hang on it? A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 39 Tarrasch What d' you think Of that now? [He hangs his revolver on the tree.] Bettine [Laughing merrily.] Oh! Oh! What a great big pistol! That'll be father's present! And now what else? Nanko [Eagerly.] What else? Brander Well, what do you say to a ring, Bettine? How prettily it hangs upon the bough! Isn't that fine? [He hangs the ring upon the tree.] 40 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Bettine [Staring at it.] It's just like father's ring! Tarrasch Now light the candles. Isn't it? Nanko [Clapping his hands and capering.] Yes, that's right! Light aU the little candles on the tree! Oh, doesn't the pistol shine, doesn't the ring Glitter! Bettine But, oh, it is like father's ring. He had a little piece of mother's hair Plaited inside it, just like that. It is My father's ring! A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 41 Rada No; there are many others, Bettine, just like it — ^hundreds, hundreds of others. Brander And now — what's in that package over there? Bettine Oh, that's the new tunes for the gramophone. That's father's Christmas present to us all. Nanxo Now, what a wonderful man the doctor was! Nobody else, in these parts, would have thought Of buying a gramophone. Let's open it. Bettine Yes! Yes! And we'll give father a surprise! It shall be playing a time when he comes in! He won't be angry, will he, mumsy dear? 42 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE [Brander opens the package. Nanko rubs his hands in delight. They get the gramophone ready.] Nanko Oh, this will be a merry Christmas Eve. There now — just see how this kind gentleman Has opened the package for us. Now you see The good of war. It benefits the health. Sets a man up. Look at old Peter's legs; He's a disgrace to the village, a disgrace! Nobody shoots him either, so he spoils ' Everything; for you know, you must admit, Bettine, that war means natural selection — Survival of the fittest, don't you see? For instance, / survive, and you survive: Don't we? So Peter shouldn't spoil it all. They say that aU the taU young men in iFrance Were killed in the Napoleonic wars, A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 43 So that most Frenchmen at the present day Are short and fat. Isn't that funny, Bettine? [She laughs.] Which shows us that tall men are not required To-day. So nobody knows. Perhaps thin legs Like Peter's may be useful, after all, In aeroplanes, or something. Every ounce Makes a great difference there. Nobody knows. It's natural selection. See, Bettine? Ah, now the gramophone's ready. Make it play A Christmas tune. That's what the churches do On Christmas Eve: for aU the churches now. And all the tall cathedrals with their choirs, What do you think they are, Bettme? I'll tell you. I'll whisper it. They're great big gramophones! [She laughs.] Now for a Christmas tune! 44 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Tareasch [Adjusting a record.] There's irony In your idea, my friend, that would delight The ghost of Nietzsche ! Certainly, it shall play A Christmas time. Here is the very thing. [There is an uproar of drunken shouts in the distance. Brander locks the outer door.] Betteste The inn is fuU of dnmken men to-night, Mother. D' you hear them? Mother, was it an iim Like that — the one that's in my Christmas piece? Brander [To Tarrasch.] Don't do it, we've had irony enough. Don't start it playing, if you want to keep This Christmas party to ourselves, my boy. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 45 The men are mad with drink, and — other things. Look here, Tarrasch, what are we going to do About this youngster, eh? Tarrasch Better keep quiet Till morning. When the men have slept it off They'll stand a better chance of slipping away. They're all drunk, officers and men as well. Brander That's the most merciful thing that one can say. Nanko Oh, what a pity! I did think, Bettine, That we should have some music. WeU — I know! Tell us the Christmas piece you learned in school. 46 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE That's right. Stand there! No, stand up on this bench. Your mother tells me that you won the prize For learning it so beautifully, Bettine. That's right. Now, while you say it, I wiU stand Here, with a candle. See, that illustrates The scene. [He lifts one of the candles to illuminate the picture of the Madonna and child. For a moment he speaks with a curious dignity.] You know it is not all delusion About this Christmas Eve. The wise men say That Time is a delusion. Now then, speak Your Christmas piece. Bettink [With her hands behind her, as if in school, she obeys hitn.] She laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 47 And there were in the same country shep- herds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night, And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone roimd them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said imto them, "Fear not: for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. "For imto you is born this day in the City of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. "And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddHng clothes, lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying: — "Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace. . . ." [There is silence for a moment, then a pistol- shot, a scream, and a roar of drunken laughter 48 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE without, followed by a furious pounding on the door. Bettine runs to her mother.] Brakder Here, Tarrasch, what the devil are we to do about this child? [He calls through the door.] Clear out of this! The house Is fuU. We want to sleep. {The uproar grows outside, and the pounding is resumed. There is a crash of broken glass at the window^ Bettike Mother, I'm frightened! It is the Boches! Mother, it is the Boches! Where are the British, mother? You said the British Were sure to be here first! A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 49 Brander Bundle the child Into that room, woman, at once! [Rada snatches the revolver from the Christmas- tree and hurries Bettine into the bedroom just as the other door is hurst open and a troop of soldiers appear on the threshold} shouting and furious with drink. They sing, with drunken gestures, in the doorway:] "Zvim Rhein, zum Rhem, zum deutschen Rhein. . . ." First Soldier Come on! They're in that room. I saw them! The only- skirts Left in the village. Comrades, you've had your fim — It's time for ours. so A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Brander Clear out of this. You're drunk. We want to sleep. Second Soldier Well, hand the women over. Tarrasch There are no women here. First Soldier You greedy wolf, I saw them. Nanko Come! Come! Come! It's Christmas Eve! Second Soldier Well, if there are no petticoats, where's the harm A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 51 In letting us poor soldiers take a squint Through yonder door? By God, we'U do it, too ! Come on, my boys. [They make a rusk towards the room.] Nanko Be careful, or you'll smash The Christmas-tree! You'll smash the gram- ophone ! [A soldier tries the bedroom door. It is opened from within, and Rada appears on the threshold with the revolver in her hand.] First Soldier Liars! Liars! Rada There is one woman here, One woman and a child. . . . And war, they tell me, is a noble thing. It is the mother of heroic deeds. The nurse of honour, manhood. 52 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Second Soldier God, a speech I Nanko [Who is hugging his Christmas-tree near the fire again.] Certainly, Rada! You will not deny That life's a battle. Rada You hear, drunk as you are, Up to your necks in blood, you hear this fool, This poor old fool, piping his dreary cry. And through his Ups, and through his softening brain. The men that use you, cheat you, drive you out To slaughter and be slaughtered, teach the world That this black vampire, sucking at our breasts, E A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 53 Is good. Men! Men! The pestilence of your dead Is murdering you by legions. All the trains Of quicklime that your Emperor sends behind you Can never eat its way through all that flesh — Three hundred miles of dead! Your dead! FmsT Soldier Hoch! Hoch! A speech! [They make a movement towards her, which she arrests by raising the revolver.] Rada I do not hate! I pity you all. I tell you, you are doing it in a dream. You are drugged. You are not awake. Nanko I have sometimes thought The very same. 54 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Rada But you will wake one day. Listen! If you have children of your own, Listen to me . . . the child is twelve years old. She has never had one hard word spoken to her In all her life. Second Soldier Nor shall she now, by God! Where is sh6? Bring her out! First Soldier Twelve years of age? Add two, because her mother loves her so! That's ripe enough for marriage to a soldier. [They laugh uproariously, and sing again mock- ingly:] "Zum Rhein, zum Rhein, zum deutschen Rhein!" [They move forward again.] A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 55 Rada [Raising the revolver.] One word. If you are deaf to honour, blind To truth, and if compassion cannot reach you. Then I appeal to fear! Yes, you shall fear me. Listen! I heard, when I was in that room, A sound like gun-fire coming from the south: What if it were the British? Soldiers Ah! The swine! The dogs! Rada Bull-dogs; and slow. But they are coming, And, where they hold, they never will let go. Though they may come too late for me and mine, You are on your trial now before the world. You never can escape it. They are coming. With justice and the unconquerable law! 56 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE I warn you, though their speech is not my own, And I shall be but one of all the dead, Dead, with that chUd, in a forgotten grave — I speak for them, and they will keep my word. Yes, if you harm that child . . , the Brit- tish. . . . Ah! [They advance towards her.] I have one bullet for the child and five To share between you and myself. First Soldier Come on! She can't shoot! Look at the way she's holding it! Duck down, and make a rush for it. Soldiers Come on! [They make a rush. Rada steps back into the bedroom and shuts the door in their faces.] A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 57 Second Soldier Locked out in the cold. Come, break the damned thing down! Bettine [Crying within.] O British! British! Come! Come quickly, British! Brander [Trying to interpose.] She'll keep her word. You'll never get 'em alive. Tarrasch Never. I know that kind. You'd better clear out. 58 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE FmsT Soldier Down with the door! [They put their shoulders to it. Brander makes a sign to Tarrasch. They try to pull the men hack. There is a scuffle and Brander is knocked down. He rises with the blood running down his face, while Tarrasch still struggles. The door begins to give. A shot is heard within. The men pause and there is another shot.\ Brander By God, she's done it! [There is a booming of distant artillery.] Hear! She was not lying. That came from the south- west. It is the British! [A bugle-call sounds in the village street.] A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 59 Tarrasch The British! A night-attack! [They all rush out except Nanko, who peers after them from the door. Leaving it open to the night, he takes a marron glac^ from the table, crosses the room, and begins to examine the gramophone. Confused sounds of men rushing to arms, thin bugle-calls in the distance, and the occasional clatter of a galloping horse blown in from the blackness framed in the open door. The deep pulsation of the British artillery is heard throughout, in a steady undertone.] Nanko [Calling aloud as he munches.] Come, Rada, you're pretending. They're all gone. Rada, these marrons glacis are delicious. 6o A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE It's over now! Come, I don't think it's right To spoil a person's pleasure on Christmas Eve. [He tiptoes to the door and peers into the night.] Come quick, Bettiae, rockets are going up! They are breaking into clusters of green stars! Oh, there's a red one! You cotdd see for miles When that one broke. The wiUow-trees jumped out Like witches; and, between them, the canal Dwindled away to a httle thread of blood. And there were Hnes of men running and falling, And guns and horses floundering in a ditch. Oh, Rada! there's a bonfire by the mill. They've burned the Uttle cottage. There's a man Hanging above the bonfire by his hands, And heaps of dead all round him. Come and see! It's terrible, but it's magnificent, Like one of Goya's pictures. That's the way A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 61 He painted war. Well, everybody's gone. . . . To think / was the fittest, after all! [He returns to the gramophone.] I wonder how this gramophone does work. He said the tune that he was putting in Was just the thing for Christmas Eve. I won- der, I wonder what it was. Listen to this! \ne reads the title.] It's a good omen, Rada — A Christmas carol Sung by the Grand Imperial Choir — d' you hear? — At midnight in St. Petersburg — Adeste Fideles! Fancy that! A Christmas carol Upon the gramophone! So all the future ages wiU be sure To know exactly what religion was. To think we must not hear it! Rada, they say The Angel Gabriel composed that time On the first Christmas Eve. So don't you think 62 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE That we might hear it? Everybody is gone, except the dead. It will not wake them. . . . Come, Rada, you're pretending! Do not make The war more dreadful than it reaUy is. [He accidentally sets the gramophone working and jumps back, a little alarmed. He runs to the bedroom door.] Rada! I've started it! Bettiae, d' you hear? The gramophone's working. [The artillery booms like a thunder-peal in the distance. Then the gramophone drowns it with the massed voices of the Imperial Choir singing:] Adeste Fideles, l^ti triumphantes, Adeste, adeste m Bethlehem! Natum videte Regem angelorum: A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 63 Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus Dominum. [Nanko touches the floor under the door of the bedroom and stares at his hand.] Nanko Something red again? Trickling under the door? Blood, I suppose. . . . {A look of horror comes into his face as he stands listening to the music. Then, as if slowly waking from a dream and almost as if sanity had returned for a moment, he cries:] It's true! It's true! Rada, I am awake! I am awake! And, in the name of Christ, I accuse, I accuse . . . O God, forgive us all! [He fails on his knees by the bedroom door and calls, as if to the dead within:] 64 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Awake, and after nineteen hundred years. . . . Bettine, Bettine! the British, they are conning! Rada, you said it — they are coming quickly! They are coming, with the reign of right and law. But, O Bettine! Bettine! will they remember? Are they awake? I only hear their guns. What if they should grow used to it, Bettine, And fail to wipe this horror from the world? God, is there any hope for poor mankind? God, are Thy little nations and Thy weak. Thine innocent, condemned to heU for ever? God, will the strong dehverers break the sword And bring this world at last to Christmas Eve? The Imperial Choir ^TERNi Parentis Splendorem Sternum, Velatum sub carne vedebimus, Deum dstfantem, PaNNIS ESrVOLUTUM, A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 65 Venite, adoeemus, Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus Dominum. Nanko Will Christ be bom, oh, not in Bethlehem, But in the soul of man, abode of the God? There, in that deep, xmdying soul of man (I still believe it), that immortal soul. Win they lift up the cross with Christ upon it. The Fool of God, whom intellectual fools, The Uttle fools of dust, in every land. Grinning their What is Truth? stUl crucify. Could they not thrust their hands into His woimds? His wounds are these — these dead are aU His wounds. Bettine, Bettine! the British, they are coming! But you are silent now, so silent now! WiU they lift up God's poor old broken Fool, 66 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE And sleep no more until His kingdom come, His infinite kingdom come? Will they remember? [He bows his head against the closed door, while the gramophone lifts the chorus of the Imperial Choir over the deepening thunder of the guns.] Nunc cantet, exultans, Chorus angelorum, Cantet nunc aula celestium Gloria, Gloria, In excelsis Deo! Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus, Venite, adoremus Dominum. EPILOGUE Intercession Now the muttering gun-fire dies, Now the night has cloaked the slain, Now the stars patrol the skies, Hear our sleepless prayer again! They who work their country's will. Fight and die for Britain stUl, Soldiers, but not haters, know Thou must pity friend and foe. Therefore hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Thou whose wounded Hands do reach Over every land and sea. Thoughts too deep for human speech Rise from aU our souls to Thee; 67 68 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Deeper than the wrath that burns Round our hosts when day returns; Deeper than the peace that fills AU these trenched and waitmg hills. Hear, O hear! Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Pity deeper than the grave Sees, beyond the death we wield, Faces of the young and brave Hurled against us in the field. Cannon-fodder! They must come. We must slay them, and be dumb, Slaughter, whUe we pity, these Most implacable enemies. Master, hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer. They are blind, as we are bUnd, Urged by duties past reply. Oiurs is but the task assigned; Theirs to strike us ere they die. A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 69 Who can see his coxintry fall? Who but answers at her call? Who has power to pause and think When she reels upon the brink? Hear, hear, Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Shield them from that bitterest lie Laughed by fools who quote their mirth, When the wings of death go by And their brother shrieks on earth. Though they clamp their hearts with steel, Conquering eoery fear they feel. There are dreams they dare not teU. Shield, O shield, their eyes from hell. Father, hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Where the naked bodies bum. Where the wotmded toss at home, 70 A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE Weep and bleed and^laugh in turn, Yes, the masking jest may come. Let him jest who daily dies. But O hide his haimted eyes. Pain alone he might control. Shield, O shield, his wounded soul. Master, hear, Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Peace? We steel us to the end. Hope betrayed us, long ago. Duty binds both foe and friend. It is ours to break the foe. Then, O God! that we might break This red Moloch for Thy sake; Know that Truth indeed prevails, And that Justice holds the scales. Father, hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer. England, could this awful hour, Dawning on thy long renown, A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE 71 Mark the purpose of thy power, Crown thee with that mightier crown ! Broadening to that purpose dimb AH the blood red wars of Time. . . . Set the struggHng peoples free, Crown with Law their Liberty! England, hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer! Speed, O speed what every age Writes with a prophetic hand. Read the midnight's movmg page. Read the stars and understand: Out of Chaos ye shall draw Deepening harmonies of Law Till around the Eternal Sun All your peoples move in one. Christ-God, hear. Both for foe and friend, our prayer. Cornell University Library PR6027.O^R1 1915a A Belgian Christmas eve, being "Rada" rew 3 1924 013 644 889