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The Cross from the 
 
 Church of Revigny 
 
 Speaks 
 
 By W. J. R. KEATES 
 
 Formerly Custodian of French High Commission 
 War Exhibit in U. S. 
 
 ¥ 
 
 Sacred relics from Churches of Verdun, now on 
 
 exhibition in Lincoln Corridor, College of 
 
 the City of New York. 
 

 COPYRIGHT 1919 
 
 BY W. J. R. KEATES 
 
 ^ 
 
 G^U536946 
 
 
The Cross from the Church 
 of Revigny Speaks 
 
 "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass 
 by? behold, and see if there be any sor- 
 row like unto My sorrow. . ." 
 
 This cry, from the Book of Lamenta- 
 tions I-XII, issued in hollow tones from 
 the collection of sacred relics of the devas- 
 tated churches in Verdun and vicinity 
 which formed part of the French War 
 Exhibit. Upon investigation the voice 
 was traced to the cross from the Church 
 of Revigny, which still bears the shattered 
 remnants of what was once the figure of 
 the Saviour of the world. Upon being 
 encouraged to tell its wonderful story, the 
 cross continued: 
 
 "During the Franco-Prussian War, two 
 Frenchmen (one from Alsace) fought side 
 by side, on Alsatian soil, in the glorious 
 army of France. There was not only the 
 tie of homeland, but that of blood also 
 which bound together these two men in a 
 
life fellowship that had been very sweet 
 indeed to both of them. It was a strange 
 coincidence that had brought them to- 
 gether at this time, as the events of future 
 days will reveal. 
 
 "I will not attempt to describe the dan- 
 gers through which these two comrades-in- 
 arms passed, or the horrors of the invasion, 
 or how the Alsatian was finally killed, 
 with this cry on his lips, 'Pour la France ! 
 Vive la France! Tou jours la France!' 
 Reverent hands buried him with his face 
 toward Paris, the eternal abiding place of 
 beautiful women and brave, gallant men. 
 His grave was made beneath an oak tree 
 that miraculously escaped the devastation 
 of future engagements. After peace was 
 declared and Alsace-Lorraine had become 
 — by force of arms only — provinces of 
 Germany, frequent pilgrimages were 
 made by Jacques to the last resting place 
 of Pierre, and in later years, to Jacques' 
 great delight, he found the tree had grown 
 to be a giant oak with all the nobility and 
 dignity of a cathedral. He gloried in its 
 stately strength, for he was a wood-carver 
 of no mean ability, and his handiwork was 
 
widely sought by those who appreciated 
 his craft. But his visits to the grave of 
 Pierre had not been unobserved, as will 
 presently be disclosed. 
 
 "Jacques' son had grown to man's estate 
 and had inherited all the craftsmanship of 
 his father, but Jean's mother, having made 
 a solemn vow that if her husband Jacques 
 were returned to her safely from the great 
 war their son should devote his life to the 
 service of the Church, persuaded him to 
 enter a monastery. This Jean did, in 
 obedience to his mother's wishes, after 
 promising his father to pray for the re- 
 pose of the soul of Pierre. He also prayed 
 continually for the restoration of Alsace- 
 Lorraine to France, that the eyes of the 
 war lords of Germany might be opened 
 to the gross injustice done to France, and 
 that they might repent. 
 
 "Long days, weeks, months, Jean spent 
 praying in his lonely cell, secluding him- 
 self that he might concentrate on his lofty 
 mission and that no worldly thought might 
 swerve him from his high purpose. Many, 
 many hours he spent thus in meditation 
 
and prayer, but his heart found neither 
 comfort nor peace. Fearing that some 
 act of his life, blameless though it might 
 be, would prevent the fulfillment of his 
 vows, he performed acts of contrition and 
 inflicted penances upon himself until his 
 physical body became so emaciated that 
 he was an object of sympathetic comment. 
 
 "The old Abbe, who was devoted to his 
 young protege, observed with great dis- 
 tress Jean's changed appearance, and in 
 his kindly way suggested that Jean asso- 
 ciate with one of his brothers, saying: 
 'My son, you should have companionship 
 and receive the consolation that springs 
 therefrom.' This Jean finally agreed to 
 consider. But the suggestion was never 
 carried out, for that night Jean's devoted 
 mother died. 
 
 "While his mother's soul was leaving her 
 earthly body, the Blessed Virgin appeared 
 to Jean in a vision, saying: 'My son, if 
 you would have my help and blessing, and 
 if your heart would find peace, carve an 
 emblem that will enable the world to vis- 
 ualize the exquisite physical and mental 
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suffering, shame and anguish, which my 
 Son, your Saviour, endured in order to 
 teach men the wonderful compassion and 
 love of God their Father.' 'But what of 
 Alsace-Lorraine?' questioned the awe- 
 stricken boy. 'My son,' was the answer, 
 'in God's own time another nation, once 
 befriended by France in an hour of need, 
 will remember and repay. Go now, with 
 my blessing, and be of good courage.' 
 
 "Obediently Jean rose from the stone 
 floor of his cell and to his utter amazement 
 found he had received new strength. His 
 knees, that had grown stiff and rheumatic 
 from contact with the cold, damp floor, 
 were so no longer, and his mental and 
 physical exhaustion had entirely vanished. 
 In fear and trembling he sought the old 
 Abbe, who, upon hearing his story and 
 realizing that he had been inspired, per- 
 mitted him to depart, but not before every 
 argument possible had been used to per- 
 suade him to wait until morning before 
 starting on his journey. 
 
 "Dawn broke at last! Jean arose from 
 his knees, whereon he had been praying 
 
 7 
 
through the long, silent watches of the 
 night. The sun's first rays beckoned to him 
 as they peeped rosily over the wooded 
 slopes of the distant hills. With a prayer 
 on his lips Jean bade adieu to the Abbe 
 and set out on his pilgrimage. 
 
 " 'Carve an emblem. . . Carve an em- 
 blem. . .' The words of the Blessed Vir- 
 gin re-echoed through every fibre of his 
 being. The physical body was set aflame 
 by the passion of his spirit, and he quick- 
 ened his steps in the direction of the wood- 
 lands. 'Carve an emblem. . . Carve an 
 emblem. . .' Exultantly, ecstatically he 
 cried: 'Carve a Crucifix! I will! Wood! 
 Wood ! Give me wood !' 
 
 "For his great purpose the wood must 
 be near perfection, and his search for it 
 brought him near the town of Thann, 
 where, upon inquiring for suitable mate- 
 rial, he was told that the Germans had dis- 
 covered the reasons for the pilgrimages 
 made by his father and had ordered the 
 tree chopped down and destroyed. But, 
 fortunately, although it had been felled, it 
 had not yet been burned, and after great 
 8 
 
difficulty Jean succeeded in locating the 
 tree and, with even greater difficulty ow- 
 ing to German vigilance, in securing the 
 timber and carrying it to the monastery. 
 
 "The labor of love, once begun, brought 
 both peace and joy to the heart of one who 
 had so earnestly sought them. The sound 
 of the sturdy Jean's mallet on chisel, 
 often heard in the small hours of the 
 morning, was music to the ears of the old 
 Abbe, for well he knew that this work of 
 Jean's would be a masterpiece of inspira- 
 tion. 
 
 "When the work was completed, then, 
 and not until then, was the old Abbe in- 
 vited to see it. And when he beheld it 
 tears streamed down his aged cheeks, as 
 reverently making the sign of the cross he 
 stammered in ecstasy: 
 
 "'See! From His head, His hands, His 
 feet 
 
 Sorrow and love flow mingled down; 
 Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, 
 
 Or thorns compose so rich a crown? 
 Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
 
 That were a present far too small ; 
 Love so amazing, so divine, 
 
 Demands my life, my soul, my all." 
 
"Jean's masterpiece now being com- 
 pleted, he asked that the crucifix be placed 
 in the church of Revigny, where his 
 mother had so often devoutly worshipped. 
 Permission was granted, and when the 
 bishop was called to consecrate it he was 
 so lost in adoration and wonder that the 
 priest had to remind him of his unfulfilled 
 sacred duty, remarking that every one 
 who looked upon this wonderful work of 
 inspired devotion was similarly affected. 
 The work was so beautifully realistic that 
 pilgrimages were made by the devout from 
 far and near to receive therefrom inspira- 
 tion anew. Every muscle of the body of 
 Christ, tense and torn, manifesting the in- 
 tense passion of love and divine suffering, 
 was more eloquent than mere words 
 spoken or written and had an effect that 
 is lasting to this day on those who saw. 
 
 "When France called upon her sons to 
 repel the invader, men from all walks of 
 life answered the call, with no thought of 
 their own safety or comfort, but upper- 
 most in the heart and soul of each was the 
 honor of 'la belle France.' 
 
 10 
 
"Jean's home was destroyed by the in- 
 vading Huns. The old hand-carved fur- 
 niture, the pride of the family for genera- 
 tions, was reduced to a pitiful mass of 
 wreckage. His father's body was taken 
 from the ruins, still clasping to his breast 
 the crucifix and a picture of Jean in the 
 arms of his mother. 
 
 "Many French men made the supreme 
 sacrifice, but none more nobly, more he- 
 roically than Jean. He died in the serv- 
 ice of France and the Church. When 
 after an intense bombardment the monas- 
 tery fell, the old Abbe and the monks took 
 what food and water they could find and, 
 remembering the scriptural injunction, 
 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he 
 thirst, give him drink,' ministered to 
 the wounded and dying on the battlefield, 
 showing no preference of friend to foe. 
 
 Jean, while placing his last cup of water 
 to the lips of a wounded poilu, made his 
 last sacrifice. Raising himself on one el- 
 bow, a German soldier took deliberate 
 aim and fired, instantly killing Jean, 
 who had just ministered to him. A little, 
 
 ii 
 
rough, wooden cross marks the spot where 
 he fell. The inscription, as simple and 
 beautiful as his life had been, with no name 
 to identify the one who sleeps beneath, 
 reads: 'To a martyred son of France. 
 Greater love hath no man than this, that 
 a man lay down his life for his friend/ 
 These words crudely written with pencil 
 may not now be decipherable; weather or 
 bombardment may have effaced or de- 
 stroyed them. But a soldier back in Paris, 
 one leg missing and otherwise mutilated 
 and crippled, often speaks of the devoted 
 son of the church whose body screened 
 him from instant death. Jean died as he 
 had lived, in the service of his church and 
 of humanity. 
 
 "The people of France regard your won- 
 derful American troops who have so won- 
 drously fulfilled the prophecy made in the 
 old monastery, not only as comrades-in- 
 arms, but brothers too. And when your 
 casualty lists were published they thought 
 of the inscription on a small, rough, wood- 
 en cross, 'Somewhere in France,' and of- 
 fered up their prayers for the repose of 
 
 12 
 
 
the souls of the men who so gallantly 
 fell." 
 
 That was the story the cross from the 
 church of Revigny told me. And at its 
 close I give silent thanks that the soldiers 
 of the United States — the men who seek 
 no cause to make war, who never shirk 
 their duty nor count their lives dear when 
 their freedom, the freedom of others and 
 civilization itself hangs in the balance — 
 went "over there" to put an end forever, 
 God helping them, to the autocrat who 
 placed his will above that of his own peo- 
 ple and insisted that all other peoples and 
 nations submit in like manner. 
 
 In the war that has just been ended by 
 the peace treaty, nothing was regarded as 
 sacred by the Prussian fiends. First, they 
 broke their word of honor, then outraged 
 women and children ; sacred institutions — 
 churches, convents, monasteries — hospi- 
 tals, schools, libraries, museums, art gal- 
 leries, and even Red Cross ambulances and 
 Red Cross ships were made special objects 
 of attack, devastation, desecration and de- 
 struction. 
 
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Around the church of Revigny the holo- 
 caust centered at one period, and as a re- 
 sult it was soon a mass of smoking, burned, 
 charred ruins. But the Cross, from which 
 the figure of the Saviour had been wan- 
 tonly shelled, only one hand, one arm, two 
 spiked feet and a fragment of one leg re- 
 maining, was rescued by French troops 
 and brought to this country by the French 
 High Commission in order that you might 
 see for yourselves to what depths sinks the 
 nation that puts "kultur" of mind and 
 body above the spiritual. Prussian autoc- 
 racy lost the war, but its most serious loss 
 was that of its soul. That is why its 
 armies could not fittingly be compared 
 with the dear, kind beasts of the fields that 
 have no souls but are tractable. 
 
 Make no mistake. Prussianism is not 
 dead. Nor is it asleep. Neither is it re- 
 pentant. Therefore, it is your duty and 
 mine to be ever watchful, ever prepared. 
 A nation without a soul cannot be trusted. 
 
 This warning is given you, "Lest Ye 
 Forget." 
 
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