represented　as　if　it　were　the　deliberate　greed　of　the　British
  state。　　This　certainly　contributed　very　much　to　fortify　Italy's
  disinclination　to　slam　the　door　on　the　German　connection。
  I　did　my　best　to　make　it　clear　to　my　two　friends　that　so　far　from
  England　exploiting　Italy；　I　myself　suffered　in　exactly　the　same
  way　as　any　Italian；　through　the　extraordinary　liberties　of　our
  shipping　interest。　　〃I　pay　as　well　as　you　do；〃　I　said；　〃the
  shippers'　blockade　of　Great　Britain　is　more　effective　than　the
  submarines'。　　My　food；　my　coal；　my　petrol　are　all　restricted　in
  the　sacred　name　of　private　property。　　You　see；　capital　in　England
  has　hitherto　been　not　an　exploitation　but　a　hold…up。　　We　are
  learning　differently　now。。。。　　And　anyhow；　Mr。　Runciman　has　been
  here　and　given　Italy　assurances。。。。〃
  In　the　train　to　Modane　this　old　story　recurred　again。　　It　is
  imperative　that　English　readers　should　understand　clearly　how
  thoroughly　these　little　matters　have　been　/worked/　by　the
  enemy。
  Some　slight　civilities　led　to　a　conversation　that　revealed　the
  Italian　lady　in　the　corner　as　an　Irishwoman　married　to　an
  Italian；　and　also　brought　out　the　latent　English　of　a　very
  charming　elderly　lady　opposite　to　her。　　She　had　heard　a　speech；　a
  wonderful　speech　from　a　railway　train；　by　〃the　Lord　Runciman。〃　　He
  had　said　the　most　beautiful　things　about　Italy。
  I　did　my　best　to　echo　these　beautiful　things。
  Then　the　Irishwoman　remarked　that　Mr。　Runciman　had　not　satisfied
  everybody。　　She　and　her　husband　had　met　a　ministerI　found
  afterwards　he　was　one　of　the　members　of　the　late　Giolotti
  governmentwho　had　been　talking　very　loudly　and　scornfully　of
  the　bargain　Italy　was　making　with　England。　　I　assured　her　that
  the　desire　of　England　was　simply　to　give　Italy　all　that　she
  needed。
  〃But；〃　said　the　husband　casually；　〃Mr。　Runciman　is　a　shipowner。〃
  I　explained　that　he　was　nothing　of　the　sort。　　It　was　true　that　he
  came　of　a　shipowning　familyand　perhaps　inherited　a　slight
  tendency　to　see　things　from　a　shipowning　point　of　viewbut　in
  England　we　did　not　suspect　a　man　on　such　a　score　as　that。
  〃In　Italy　I　think　we　should；〃　said　the　husband　of　the　Irish
  lady。
  4
  This　incidental　discussion　is　a　necessary　part　of　my　impression
  of　Italy　at　war。　　The　two　western　allies　and　Great　Britain　in
  particular　have　to　remember　Italy's　economic　needs；　and　to
  prepare　to　rescue　them　from　the　blind　exploitation　of　private
  profit。　　They　have　to　remember　these　needs　too；　because；　if　they
  are　left　out　of　the　picture；　then　it　becomes　impossible　to
  understand　the　full　measure　of　the　risk　Italy　has　faced　in
  undertaking　this　war　for　an　idea。　　With　a　Latin　lucidity　she　has
  counted　every　risk；　and　with　a　Latin　idealism　she　has　taken　her
  place　by　the　side　of　those　who　fight　for　a　liberal　civilisation
  against　a　Byzantine　imperialism。
  As　I　came　out　of　the　brightly　lit　Galleria　Vittorio　Emanuele　into
  the　darkened　Piazza　del　Duomo　I　stopped　under　the　arcade　and
  stood　looking　up　at　the　shadowy　darkness　of　that　great　pinnacled
  barn；　that　marble　bride…cake；　which　is；　I　suppose；　the　last
  southward　fortress　of　the　Franco…English　Gothic。
  〃It　was　here；〃　said　my　host；　〃that　we　burnt　the　German　stuff。〃
  〃What　German　stuff？〃
  〃Pianos　and　all　sorts　of　things。　　From　the　shops。　　It　is
  possible；　you　know；　to　buy　things　too　cheaplyand　to　give　too
  much　for　the　cheapness。〃
  THE　WESTERN　WAR　（SEPTEMBER；　1916）
  I。　RUINS
  1
  If　I　had　to　present　some　particular　scene　as　typical　of　the
  peculiar　vileness　and　mischief　wrought　by　this　modern　warfare
  that　Germany　has　elaborated　and　thrust　upon　the　world；　I　do　not
  think　I　should　choose　as　my　instance　any　of　those　great
  architectural　wrecks　that　seem　most　to　impress　contemporary
  writers。　　I　have　seen　the　injuries　and　ruins　of　the　cathedrals　at
  Arras　and　Soissons　and　the　wreckage　of　the　great　church　at　Saint
  Eloi；　I　have　visited　the　Hotel　de　Ville　at　Arras　and　seen
  photographs　of　the　present　state　of　the　Cloth　Hall　at　Ypresa
  building　I　knew　very　well　indeed　in　its　days　of　prideand　I　have
  not　been　very　deeply　moved。　　I　suppose　that　one　is　a　little
  accustomed　to　Gothic　ruins；　and　that　there　is　always　something
  monumental　about　old　buildings；　it　is　only　a　question　of　degree
  whether　they　are　more　or　less　tumble…down。　　I　was　far　more
  desolated　by　the　obliteration　of　such　villages　as　Fricourt　and
  Dompierre；　and　by　the　horrible　state　of　the　fields　and　gardens
  round　about　them；　and　my　visit　to　Arras　railway　station　gave　me
  all　the　sensations　of　coming　suddenly　on　a　newly　murdered　body。
  Before　I　visited　the　recaptured　villages　in　the　zone　of　the
  actual　fighting；　I　had　an　idea　that　their　evacuation　was　only
  temporary；　that　as　soon　as　the　war　line　moved　towards　Germany　the
  people　of　the　devastated　villages　would　return　to　build　their
  houses　and　till　their　fields　again。　　But　I　see　now　that　not　only
  are　homes　and　villages　destroyed　almost　beyond　recognition；　but
  the　very　fields　are　destroyed。　　They　are　wildernesses　of　shell
  craters；　the　old　worked　soil　is　buried　and　great　slabs　of　crude
  earth　have　been　flung　up　over　it。　　No　ordinary　plough　will　travel
  over　this　frozen　sea；　let　along　that　everywhere　chunks　of　timber；
  horrible　tangles　of　rusting　wire；　jagged　fragments　of　big　shells；
  and　a　great　number　of　unexploded　shells　are　entangled　in　the
  mess。　　Often　this　chaos　is　stained　bright　yellow　by　high
  explosives；　and　across　it　run　the　twisting　trenches　and
  communication　trenches　eight；　ten；　or　twelve　feet　deep。　　These
  will　become　water　pits　and　mud　pits　into　which　beasts　will　fall。
  It　is　incredible　that　there　should　be　crops　from　any　of　this
  region　of　the　push　for　many　years　to　come。　　There　is　no　shade
  left；　the　roadside　trees　are　splintered　stumps　with　scarcely　the
  spirit　to　put　forth　a　leaf；　a　few　stunted　thistles　and　weeds　are
  the　sole　proofs　that　life　may　still　go　on。
  The　villages　of　this　wide　battle　region　are　not　ruined；　they　are
  obliterated。　　It　is　just　possible　to　trace　the　roads　in　them；
  because　the　roads　have　been　cleared　and　repaired　for　the　passing
  of　the　guns　and　ammunition。　　Fricourt　is　a　tangle　of　German　dug…
  outs。　　One　dug…out　in　particular　there　promises　to　become　a　show
  place。　　It　must　be　the　masterpiece　of　some　genius　for　dug…outs；
  it　is　made　as　if　its　makers　enjoyed　the　job；　it　is　like　the　work
  of　some　horrible　badger　among　the　vestiges　of　what　were　pleasant
  human　homes。　　You　are　taken　down　a　timbered　staircase　into　its
  warren　of　rooms　and　passages；　you　are　shown　the　places　under　the
  craters　of　the　great　British　shells；　where　the　wood　splintered
  but　did　not　come　in。　　（But　the　arrival　of　those　shells　must　have
  been　a　stunning　moment。）　There　are　a　series　of　ingenious　bolting
  shafts　set　with　iron　climbing　bars。　　In　this　place　German
  officers　and　soldiers　have　lived　continually　for　nearly　two
  years。　　This　war　is；　indeed；　a　troglodytic　propaganda。　　You　come
  up　at　last　at　the　far　end　into　what　was　once　a　cellar　of　a　decent
  Frechman's　home。
  But　there　are　stranger　subterranean　refuges　than　that　at
  Fricourt。　　At　Dompierre　the　German　trenches　skirted　the　cemetery；
  and　they　turned　the　dead　out　of　their　vaults　and　made　lurking
  places　of　the　tombs。　　I　walked　with　M。　Joseph　Reinach　about　this
  place；　picking　our　way　carefully　amidst　the　mud　holes　and　the
  wire；　and　watched　the　shells　bursting　away　over　the　receding
  battle　line　to　the　west。　　The　wreckage　of　the　graves　was
  Durereqsue。　　And　here　would　be　a　fragment　of　marble　angle　and
  here　a　split　stone　with　an　inscription。　　Splinters　of　coffins；
  rusty　iron　crosses　and　the　petals　of　tin　flowers　were　trampled
  into　the　mud；　amidst　the　universal　barbed　wire。　　A　little
  distance　down　the　slope　is　a　brand　new　cemetery；　with　new　metal
  wreaths　and　even　a　few　flowers；　it　is　a　disciplined　array　of
  uniform　wooden　crosses；　each　with　its　list　of　soldiers'　names。
  Unless　I　am　wholly　mistaken　in　France　no　Germans　will　ever　get　a
  chance　for　ever　more　to　desecrate　that　second　cemetery　as　they
  have　done　its　predecessor。
  We　walked　over　the　mud　heaps　and　litter　that　had　once　been　houses
  towards　the　centre　of　Dompierre　village；　and　tried　to　picture　to
  ourselves　what　the　place　had　been。　　Many　things　are　recognisable
  in　Dompierre　that　have　altogether　vanished　at　Fricourt；　for
  instance；　there　are　quire　large　triangular　pieces　of　the　church
  wall　upstanding　at　Dompierre。　　And　a　mile　away　perhaps　down　the
  hill　on　the　road　towards　Amiens；　the　ruins　of　the　sugar　refinery
  are　very　distinct。　　A　sugar　refinery　is　an　affair　of　big　iron
  receptacles　and　great　flues　and　pipes　and　so　forth；　and　iron　does
  not　go　down　under　gun　fire　as　stone　or　brick　does。　　The　whole
  fabric　wars　rust；　bent　and　twisted；　gaping　with　shell　holes；　that
  raggedest　display　of　old　iron；　but　it　still　kept　its　general
  shape；　as　a　smashed；　battered；　and　sunken　ironclad　might　do　at
  the　bottom　of　the　sea。
  There　wasn't　a　dog　left　of　the　former　life　of　Dompierre。　　There
  was　not　even　much　war　traffic　that　morning　on　the　worn　and　muddy
  road。　　The　guns　muttered　some　miles　away　to　the　west；　and　a　lark
  sang。　　But　a　little　way　farther　on　up　the　road　was　an
  intermediate　dressing　station；　rigged　up　with　wood　and
  tarpaulins；　and　orderlies　were　packing　two　w