I politely
elected to stay and take my chance. After the attack on the
suburbs began I had reason to regret the decision. The
hotels were entered by patrols, and all efficient waiters
KOMMANDIERE'D to work at the barricades, or carry arms. On
the fourth day I settled to change sides. The constant
banging of big guns, and rattle of musketry, with the
impossibility of getting either air or exercise without the
risk of being indefinitely deprived of both, was becoming
less amusing than I had counted on. I was already provided
with a PASSIERSCHEIN, which franked me inside the town, and
up to the insurgents' outposts. The difficulty was how to
cross the neutral ground and the two opposing lines. Broad
daylight was the safest time for the purpose; the officious
sentry is not then so apt to shoot his friend. With much
stalking and dodging I made a bolt; and, notwithstanding
violent gesticulations and threats, got myself safely seized
and hurried before the nearest commanding officer.
He happened to be a general or a colonel. He was a fierce
looking, stout old gentleman with a very red face, all the
redder for his huge white moustache and well-filled white
uniform. He began by fuming and blustering as if about to
order me to summary execution. He spoke so fast, it was not
easy to follow him. Probably my amateur German was as
puzzling to him. The PASSIERSCHEIN, which I produced, was
not in my favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my Foreign
Office passport. What further added to his suspicion was his
inability to comprehend why I had not availed myself of the
notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave the city
before active hostilities began. How anyone, who had the
choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or
bayoneted, was (from his point of view) no proof of
respectability. I assured him he was mistaken if he thought
I had a predilection for either of these alternatives.
'It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had
sought, not without risk, the protection I was so sure of
finding at the hands of a great and gallant soldier.'
'Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!' (stuff o' nonsense), he puffed.
But a peppery man's good humour is often as near the surface
as his bad. I detected a pleasant sparkle in his eye.
'Pardon me, Excellenz,' said I, 'my presence here is the best
proof of my sincerity.'
'That,' said he sharply, 'is what every rascal might plead
when caught with a rebel's pass in his pocket. Geleitsbriefe
fur Schurken sind Steckbriefe fur die Gerechtigkeit.' (Safe-
conduct passes for knaves are writs of capias to honest men.)
I answered: 'But an English gentleman is not a knave; and no
one knows the difference better than your Excellenz.' The
term 'Schurken' (knaves) had stirred my fire; and though I
made a deferential bow, I looked as indignant as I felt.
