Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

lowing lines:-" His was a grand heart and the noblest mind in the world, for he was one of those rare beings, who have in their minds all the virtues of their souls A great moralist, a great teacher, a brilliant orator, an admirable controversialist, though not a deep philosopher yet clear and convincing, a man of stainless honour, disinterested both in his ideals and in his life, he remains one of those men who have highly honoured their state in life, their church, the ideals they stood for and their country." Noble words indeed, and a noble eulogy of any man. But I much prefer the short and pity saying of De Falloux, when he had succeeded in forcing on his friend the episcopate; this little mot goes right to the heart of the question, and contains in an epigrammatic and slightly paradoxical form the highest encomium on any priest. "There are some priests," said De Falloux, "who should be made bishops for the sake of a diocese; and there are others who should be made bishops for the sake of the Church." Félix Dupanloup was one of these.

TRIOLETS

Do good to those you chance to meet
And good will come to you

To make your life full and complete,
Do good to those you chance to meet
In lane or highway, square or street,
Many be they or few.

Do good to those you chance to meet
And good will come to you.

Give freely to the world your best,

It well will you repay

With interest full from east and west,

Give freely to the world your best
And joy shall be your constant guest
And peace with you shall stay.
Give freely to the world your best
It well will you repay.

MAGDALEN ROCK.

WAR TIME IN AUSTRIA

O introduce the reader at once to the subject

T° of this short article, let him know that it was

written in Innsbruck, in a college, in the last days of September. If I sit down calmly and selfishly and think, I recognise gladly that Innsbruck is the safest spot in Europe at the present moment. It is true that we feel the earth occasionally heave beneath our feet, and that is not pleasant, but then it only lasts a few seconds, and if at the end one finds oneself still unburied, one breathes freely again; it has been so for hundreds of years, and will so continue for ages to come, for seismologists tell us that there is an earthquake centre almost directly under the city.. But the probability of a shell from a forty-two centimetre mortar suddenly plumping down on top of us is very remote. Switzerland is neutral, and has no reason for sending forth the old lion that watches her frontier; she alone could most easily surprise us here. The other end of our long valley leads to the East and Vienna; well, the Russians are hardly likely to come so far for such a little morsel. A side valley, narrow and ravine-like, leads to Italy-it holds the Brenner roadway; well, Italy will hardly come so far along such dangerous paths; the way is opener that leads towards Triest -and Italy's palm is itching for Trent and Triest. Beyond the mountains to the north is "our" friend Germany. So we can philosophise in peace.

The men have gone forth to war and already the maimed have been tossed back. That is the history of the war as we have seen it here.

Two months have barely passed since the night that the news came. First came the false report-Peace! A Settlement! Then came the truth-War!-the holy war against Servia! It was late-the beginning of a summer night. Immediately the barrack gates flew open; the band must play

all its patriotic airs for the loyal townsfolk. Often did the narrow streets ring to the Kaiser Lied and to that song of Mantua and Hofer and Tirol. The officers hugged each other with delight. The soldiers were the heroes of the hour. A speech from a General was the crowning flare in this spontaneous glow.

Night after night the scenes were repeated. The general call to arms was answered with a cheery will. Then came the days when it was difficult to move about in the streets. Every hamlet, every village, every town poured its able-bodied into the capital city of Tirol to furnish the battalions that bear the proud name of the Tiroler Kaiser-Jaeger, the bravest regiment in the Austrian service. Every real Tiroler learns at home to shoot straight and to march hard. He comes to the army and prides himself on being a unit in a regiment that stops at nothing, mountain or valley, and that misses nothing, man for man. With the cool heads and the good consciences of a Catholic mountain folk they can afford, if report is true, to light their long pipes whenever the battle lulls for a few moments. But report also has it that whole battalions of this regiment exist no longer. They have met the Russians in Galicia. The pity of it! that those fine peasants who crowded our streets should return no more. One Austrian regiment has won some seventy medals for bravery-of its thousand odd men three hundred are unhurt. Here they mustered, one with his little wooden trunk, another with his mountain knapsack, a third with the elemental handkerchief bundle; broad-shouldered and strong, they might have been our own landsmen from the fishing-smack or the hillside.

Their time came. One of the unceasing trains was ready for its battalion and they marched away. Their uniforms were new and ill-fitting, their bayonets were newly-sharpened, and some carried them mounted, sheath and all at the end of their rifles. They marched down to the station with cheers and songs; their ears were filled with the strains of national music; every man wore in his cap a bunch of flowers, red roses and white edelweiss, the colours of Tirol. With every company went a stretcher and men from whose belts hung strange surgical appliances-grim reminders of the days to

come.

Day in, day out, the trains toiled along with soldiers who cheered and sang and blew on bugles. Some were going from the south to the east, others from the north to the south; no one knew clearly where he was going except that the Fatherland was disposing of him for its own vital interests. Every foot of railway-line in Austria is guarded; to neglect the challenge of a sentry twice means death to the trespasser-so intimate a part do the iron-lines play in this continental war.

The motor-cars, too, have joined the ranks. Every car, big and small, has been pressed into service. They boarded the trains and were transported like the men to distant fields, where shrapnel and shells would test them. Some remained at home and their constant horns tell of the passage of the wounded from the railway to the hospital. Everything here seems to put itself at the disposal of the lords of war-and so, with the disappearance of the motors, it was the primitive ox and not the horse that became the more constant wayfarer on the roads.

When the troops had sent forth their first great batch of victims to the war, and when we were no longer awakened at midnight by the cheers of thousands, we waited for the news. Nothing of note came till the victory of Metz-a German victory, but the Austrian turn would come, so it was celebrated with flags and music. Yet the disappointment grew and whispers went abroad when still no news came from Galicia. Why had not the Government pursued the war for which the people were enthusiastic, war against the Serb? Why did it fling all its weight against Russia? Yet the people remained loyal. Then came the lights of hope, the victories so welcome here in Innsbruck-of the Tyrolese General Dankl; eyes brightened again, but not for long. It is painful that this truly Catholic land should suffer from enemies who are fanatically anti-Catholic. Here the war is intimately bound up with religion and nationality; mere politics are not so much in evidence as in the West. So, be it said once for all, England is not the arch-enemy here that she is in Germany; Sir Edward Grey is not hated here as he is across the Alps-though the picture postcards from the North that pillory him with all abuse, are on sale in the shops.

The Russian soldiers, so the returned wounded tell, fire mechanically without aiming, but they are ensconced in deep trenches, and they have each a religious token, in which they trust for protection; I have seen religious medals taken from them which bear the date 1904-5, and have on one side the inscription:" The Lord will raise you up in His own time.” The Austrians expect little courtesy from them, and the ground for that suspicion is the religious fanaticism of the Russian. Again religion, half-mixed with national jealousies, is the motive to which the wholesale spying on the Austrians by the inhabitants of Galicia is attributed.

Meanwhile we have begun to learn that Austria has suffered an almost uninterrupted defeat at the hands of the Russians. The news has leaked out gradually, and under all the usual official' disguises, "concentration to the rear,' "better strategic positions," and the rest. Occasionally many a healthy canard' waddles across from Germany and cackles as hard as it can: "Rising in Egypt," "Japs invited to India," and all sorts of wonderful moves on the part of President Wilson are the offspring of interested wishers. It is impossible here to know which provides the less accurate account, the English or the German Press; of course it is easy to guess what verdict our papers here in Austria pro

nounce.

The Austrian empire is huge, yet at the present moment it seems to have crowded all its large towns with wounded. In Innsbruck we have probably upwards of a thousand. Every public school, and even some private buildings, are turned into temporary hospitals. Charity finds many an avenue for its good works-and in truth it finds many a generous soul. In a temporary hospital where I have done some work, every day brought its visitors with fruit, wine, tobacco, postcards, and many another little gift.

The poor soldiers who went forth have many of them been fortunate to return maimed. They remember with horror the retreat that lasted for days, the shrapnel that tore the hole in this arm or destroyed so much of that leg. They are glad to lie on rough straw beds, where they can at least get their daily ration of food and clean water to drink. They wince and moan horribly when the doctor drives the dressing deep

« AnteriorContinuar »