Chapter 2 - Cannon Meat

Summary

One instance is the case of Maxim. The story of Maxim will tell much of Russia at war. With its movement, its color, and its pictures it will contain much of the sum total that one can see or feel in the empire of the Czar today. In it there is the theme of the fourth of the four great dramatic facts of this conflict.

The first of these great dramatic facts, I think, is the spirit of Great Britain. No empire has ever been given the free-will service of so many men willing, if need be, to die. I spoke to a Scotland Yard secret-service man in Norway of the millions of British volunteers. “You were in England!” said he. “You saw it.” He spoke as if it were a vision.

And the second is the efficiency of Germany. I have been in five countries, and two of them are Germany's bitterest enemies. But even where anti-Prussianism is almost madness, whether among statesmen and officials, those who fight and those who wait, or those who fear and those who have suffered, there is mingled in one breath hatred and admiration.

And the third is the dignity of France. This, too, is felt everywhere. At the cold, narrow gate of Russia, on the frontier between Finland and Sweden, I met General Pau on his way to visit the Czar's army. This distinguished veteran officer of France, one-armed and not tall of stature, behind his heavy gray brows and white mustache has a countenance filled with a strange combination of power and sadness. That which is firm and resolute and that which is reflective and tender mingle in the expression of his features. I spoke of the dignity of France, and then feared I had taken too great a liberty and had changed too abruptly from some hurried words about the Russian army, whose General Staff headquarters I had just left. He smiled, however, quietly and with pleasure. “France is patient and strong,” he said. “If necessary, she will suffer without complaint, but also she will remain calm after her victories.” The Russian commandant of the frontier station looked at Pau with blinking eyes and wet his own lips with the tip of his tongue. But he said nothing.