well placed on an eminence by itself, and its dimensions are
tremendous. It towers over the city far more imposingly than
Chartres Cathedral towers over Chartres. The pale simplicity of its
enormous lines and surfaces renders it better suited for the
martyrdom of bombardment than any Gothic building could possibly
be. The wounds are clearly visible on its flat facades, uncomplicated
by much carving and statuary. They are terrible wounds, yet they do
not appreciably impair the ensemble of the fane. Photographs and
pictures of Arras Cathedral ought to be cherished by German
commanders, for they have accomplished nothing more austerely
picturesque, more religiously impressive, more idiotically
sacrilegious, more exquisitely futile than their achievement here.
And they are adding to it weekly. As a spectacle, the Cathedral of
Rheims cannot compare with the Cathedral of Arras.

In the north transept a 325-mm. shell has knocked a clean hole
through which a mastodon might wriggle. Just opposite this
transept, amid universal wreckage, a cafe is miraculously
preserved. Its glass, mugs, counters, chairs, and ornaments are all
there, covered with white dust, exactly as they were left one night.
You could put your hand through a window aperture and pick up a
glass. Close by, the lovely rafter-work of an old house is exposed,
and, within, a beam has fallen from the roof to the ground. This
beam is burning. The flames are industriously eating away at it, like
a tiger gnawing in tranquil content at its prey which it has dragged to
a place of concealment. There are other fires in Arras, and have
been for some days. But what are you to do? A step further on is a
greengrocer's shop, open and doing business.

We gradually circled round the Cathedral until we arrived at the