IN A LITTLE GARRISON TOWN.*

No Englishman can reasonably be expected to know where Forba,ch is. Even to Germans the small frontier town between Metz and Saarbriicken, where one of the earliest engagements in the Franco-German War was fought, was till a few weeks ago only a name on the map. To-day, thanks to the action taken by the military authorities in Lorraine, all Germany is talking of the insignificant little place in which the scene of Lieutenant Bilse's novel is laid. The book and its condemnation combine to set before us an aspect of German military life which is not without its interest for Englishmen.

The writer of the novel which has created so painful a sensation among his countrymen is not, judging from his first essay in the art, a novelist in any real sense of the word. He has written a story because a story "will reach him who a sermon flies "; but its literary quality is not very apparent. His characters, copied though they are only too laboriously from life, are for the most part wooden puppets moving on obvious wires ; they commit the various crimes allotted to them without a thrill of emotion, and the reader can hardly avoid sharing their callous equanimity,—unless, indeed, he happens to recognise himself or his nearest relations in these nnpleasing images. Thinly disguised as fiction, the book is really a summons to repentance and reformation, a prophetic warning. When we add that the writer is a subaltern in the German Army, and that his denunciatory message concerns the higher ranks of that organisation, it will surprise no one to learn that he has been condemned to six months' im- prisonment and dismissal from the Service for libelling his superiors.

Lieutenant Bilse is a young man of five-and-twenty who,

• Ass diner Kleaum Garnison: etaNaitarisches Zeitbs1d. Von Fritz von der Syrburg (Lentnant Branswick Richard Battler.

being quartered for a time in Forbach, felt it laid upon him to reveal the deplorable condition of garrison life in small frontier towns,—places so dismally dull that they serve as penal settlements to which officers of unsatisfactory character are condemned for nine or ten years at a stretch ; and so remote from observation that, once there, the exiles can do much as they like. The society is extremely limited ; we bear of no game but tennis, and of no sport except that the Colonel

is reported on one occasion to hunt. The officers are actually forbidden, seniors as well as juniors—and the Court-Martial proved that this was no exaggeration—to stray beyond their own walls without leave, lest the dazzling allurements of the neighbouring town of Saarbriicken should prove too much for their virtue. Captain Kiinig, the model officer of the story, looks after his men, works in his garden, sees to the poultry-yard, plays the piano, and reads the Deutsche Zeitung ; those with less blameless tastes get drunk continually and break the Seventh Commandment. The injury wrought by this state of things, both to individuals and to the Service, is the author's principal theme. But incidentally he puts his finger on other sore spots in the body military,—the duelling laws, the extravagant habits leading to debt and actual dishonesty, and the abuse of authority which gives so strong an impulse to Social Democracy. While much that Lieutenant Bilse says is admitted by his Judges with magnanimous candour to be true and worthy of attention, it is to be greatly regretted that his revelations should have taken so inde- fensible a turn. The figures which illustrate his argument were shown by the Court-Martial to be easily recognisable portraits of the men and women with whom be had been closely associated; and his zeal for reform does not explain, and certainly does not excuse, the cruel indiscretion of his method.

On the particular disclosures which have astonished and distressed all good Germans there is no need to dwell. Lieutenant Bilse is anxious to assure us that the moral standard of the small frontier town is by no means that of the Army as a whole, and the disclaimer was hardly necessary. Of more real interest are the sidelights thrown upon military life in general, and not as it is only in world-forgotten places such as Forbach, and especially on those points which do not correspond with anything we have at home. The account, for instance, of the way in which that very impressive institution, the Court of Honour, exercises its functions will be new to some English readers. When Captain Kahle gets his step and is transferred to a South German city, his wife is invited to spend a few days with their friends, the Weills. During her stay Oberleutnant Weill discovers that his guest is clandestinely visiting her lover, Lieutenant Kolberg. Furious at the advantage taken of his hospitality, he hastens to com- municate his discovery to the Court of Honour. The Court, after deliberating for four months, decides that a duel must be fought, and that Kolberg must be dismissed from the Service, the Emperor being requested to confirm the sentence, and being petitioned at the same time to reinstate the culprit, which is done at once. Major Kahle did not love his wife or feel his wrongs very acutely. What most oppressed him was the thought of the inevitable duel. He was no coward, but he could not see why he should be required to risk the fruits of an arduous profession, his child's future, and his own life because another man had be- haved like a scoundrel. However, since fight he must, he resolved that it should be done seriously,—shots to be exchanged at fifteen paces until one of them is disabled. The Court objects. If the duel ended fatally, as under these conditions was very probable, they would get into trouble ; "too much dust would be raised." They therefore allow only the exchange of a single shot at thirty-five paces; and on these terms the affair comes off. Had either of the com- batants declined the duel, he could not have remained in the Army ; for having fought it they are both immediately ben tenced to several months' confinement in a fortress. '

The scene in the novel in which the Colonel assembles all his officers, and solemnly instructs them in the correct way of greeting the ladies they meet, must, one imagines, be some- thing of a caricature. "In good society," says he, "it is not usual to offer to shake hands with a lady. Should the lady offer her hand, politeness, as practised in our circle, requires that it should be kissed. The complaints of a lady of the regiment show me that some of you require to be reminded of this duty." But after reading the story of the Colonel and the apothecary, as told to the Court. Martial, we are ready to accept it as sober fact. Colonel von Kronen of the novel (in whom Bilse's command- ing officer recognised himself) is represented as having been challenged by a civilian whom he was afraid to meet, and as being extricated from the difficulty by the wife of Captain Stark. According to the evidence, the real story was as follows. The officers had been in the habit of accepting invitations to the house of the apothecary. The apothecary's wife, Fran Drees, was reported by the lady whom Lieutenant Bilse calls Frau Stark to have remarked that she thought it strange that while the officers availed themselves of their hospitality, they were never invited to the tennis club in return. The Colonel heard of it, and considered it an insult that the lady should have desired a return for her hospitality, and forbade his officers to frequent the house any more. Disturbed by the great man's displeasure, Herr Drees pleaded that his wife had not ben correctly reported ; and on inquiry "Frau Stark" withdrew her statement. The Colonel then proceeded, in his own words, to "formulate a statement" to the effect, first, that there was no charge against the Drees family ; secondly, that the prohibition had been solely inspired by the alleged observation of Frau Drees; and thirdly, that he expressed his regret for the misunder- standing. He denied all knowledge of the supposed challenge; but another witness testified that the ,apothecary was known to be a crack shot, and that "Frau Stark" had said to him with tears in her eyes : "I had to withdraw what I said ; there was no help for it ; I could not possibly allow the father of the family [the commanding officer] to be shot dead by the apothecary." It is sad to relate that she afterwards altered her attitude towards the Familienvater, and threatened to scratch out his eyes. Compared with such disclosures as these, the questions anxiously investigated by the Court- Martial, such as whether Captain X did or did not observe Lieutenant Y kissing Frau Rittmeister Z in the lane behind his house, quite lose their piquancy.

The Court-Martal, on the whole, is much less dull than the novel, although in the latter there are passages here and there which perhaps indicate that, unweighted by the consciousness of a mission, the author might have given us a better piece of work. He is most successful when he paints his privates. Schmitz, who is driven into the Socialist ranks by the some- what incredible perfidy of Sergeant Roth, is not very con- vincing; but we are given a delightful glimpse of a Polish recruit who is the despair of his superiors because he cannot learn that he must not address them as Du, and persists in taking off his cap respectfully whenever a salute is required. The story of Private Rose, who is goaded to desert by ill-

treatment, is the most promising thing in the book. We first see him in his sentry-box on a snowy December night full of joyous anticipation of the Christmas holiday, which he is

to spend at home among the sleek. 'cows and the fat pigs, and his friends all admiring his uniform. From these happy reflections he is startled by the cry of Sentry ! " "Rose blinked through the round pane, but could see nothing. The shout was repeated, and stepping out, he perceived a figure coming towards him through the blinding snow. 'Why don't you present arms, pig ? ' says the Adjutant.—' I beg the Herr Lieutenant's pardon, I didn't see the Herr Lieutenant.'" The Adjutant retorts that the "lying carrion" was asleep, and the offence being reported, brings him fourteen days in the cells. He therefore spends his Christmas Eve-

" Shivering disconsolately on his wooden bench, watching the lights in the window opposite, where his comrades are rejoicing over the Christmas tree, while the large, slow tears roll down his cheeks. When the officer on inspection duty looks into his cell, Rose addresses him hesitatingly:—' Would the Herr Lieutenant

allow me to ask something? If you want anything, you can tell the corporal,' says the officer curtly. The corporal accompanies him to the gate, and returns to Rose. 'Well, what is it?' he asks good-naturedly.--" I wanted to ask whether, if a letter has come

for me, I might have it now,' says Rose Ah, no, my lad, that won't do,' says the corporal ; first punishment, then pleasure ' ; but when he saw the boy's sad face, he was sorry for him. It was hard to spend the Holy Night here, on account of such a trifle too, and perfectly innocent into the bargain."

So, quite contrary to the regulations, the unhappy prisoner is comforted with a sausage, a piece of cake, and a letter from

home. "Sleep soon fell upon his heavy eyes, and he sat in his dreams with his brothers and sisters round the Christmas tree at home." In his simplicity-and patience Private ROse is a very lovable figure, and we are sorry we are not allowed to see more of him. He deserves a story to himself, but he is only introduced into the novel to illustrate the writer's belief in the growing estrangement between the military caste and the people. "The nation is obliged to entrust its children to the officers of the Army, and it does so with an ever-deepening mistrust." The comments of the German Press upon the case go to show that there are excellent reasons for this melancholy conviction.