Chapter 13

Presently, with a good deal of noise, a fairly large force of troops came marching down the boulevard, and took up positions around the station. Our officer returned, waving a smoking revolver, and told us to lie down as flat as we could among the horses, and not to move unless they got restive. He said it looked as though an attempt would be made to take the station by storm, and that there might be a brisk fight.

However, there were only a few scattering shots, and then our friend came back and told us that we had better get out and start for home before things began again. He added, however, that we must have the permission of the commanding officer who was on the other side of the station, but offered to pilot us to the great man and help us get the permission. The way lay straight out into the square, in full view of the houses across the way, along the front of the station just behind the troops and into the railroad yard on the other side.

That station seemed about four miles long, and the officer was possessed of a desire to loiter by the way, recounting anecdotes of his school days. He would walk along for a few steps and then pause to tell Bulle some long and rambling yarn about his uncle. Bulle would take him by the arm and get him in motion again. Then the old chap would transfer his conversational fire to another member of the party, and we were obliged almost to pull him the length of the square.

The commanding officer was a pleasant-faced little man who stood in the shelter of a water tank and received us in a puzzled way, as though he wondered what civilians were doing in that neighbourhood anyway. Permission was readily granted for us to leave, with the ludicrous proviso that we did so "at our own risk." Then Bulle put everybody in good humour by inquiring innocently if there was any danger. Everybody burst into peals of laughter, and we were escorted to our car by the same slow-moving officer, who insisted on exchanging cards with us and expressing the hope that we should meet again, which we could not honestly reciprocate. Then, after an hour and a half in the station, we got away amid a great waving of hands.

The boulevards were deserted save for the troops coming back into the town. New houses were burning that had been intact in the afternoon. After passing the Porte de Tirlemont, we began to see people again--little groups that had come out into the streets through a craving for company, and stood huddled together listening to the fighting in the lower part of the town.

In harmony with the policy of terrorising the population, the Germans have trained them to throw up their hands as soon as any one comes in sight, in order to prove that they are unarmed and defenseless. And the way they do it, the abject fear that is evident, shows that failure to comply with the rule is not lightly punished.

Our worst experience of this was when in coming around a corner we came upon a little girl of about seven, carrying a canary in a cage. As soon as she saw us, she threw up her hands and cried out something we did not understand. Thinking that she wanted to stop us with a warning of some sort, we put on the brakes and drew up beside her. Then she burst out crying with fear, and we saw that she was in terror of her life. We called out to reassure her, but she turned and ran like a hunted animal.

It was hard to see the fear of others--townspeople, peasants, priests, and feeble old nuns who dropped their bundles and threw up their hands, their eyes starting with fear. The whole thing was a nightmare.

We were dreadfully depressed, and rode along in silence until Bulle turned around from the front seat and inquired in a matter-of-fact voice:

"What sort of wine was that we drank at the station?"

We told him, and then he shook his head and said as though to himself:

"I drank a big glass of it, but I was so frightened that I didn't taste it at all."

That broke the edge of the strain we were under, and we had a good laugh in which Bulle joined.

And so back to the Legation without further mishap, to find everybody worrying about us, and the Minister putting his foot down and announcing that there were to be no more expeditions of the sort, no matter what the reason for them.

* * * * *

NOTE--The foregoing is an impression of one afternoon at Louvain, taken from a journal written at the time. It was intended to pass on the question of responsibility for precipitating the orgy of murder and bestiality indulged in by the German army from the 25th of August until the 30th, when orders were received from Berlin to stop the destruction and restore public order.

Many subsequent visits to Louvain, and conversations with people who were there when the trouble began, have only served to strengthen the impression that the whole affair was part of a cold-blooded and calculated plan to terrorise the civilian population.

While we were there, it was frankly stated that the town was being wiped out; that its destruction was being carried out under definite orders. When the German Government realised the horror and loathing with which the civilised world learned of the fate of Louvain, the orders were cancelled and the story sent out that the German forces had tried to prevent the destruction, had fought the fire, and by good fortune had been able to save the Hôtel de Ville. Never has a government lied more brazenly. When we arrived, the destruction of the town was being carried on in an orderly and systematic way that showed careful preparation. The only thing that saved the Hôtel de Ville was the fact that the German troops had not progressed that far with their work when the orders were countermanded from Berlin.

It was only when he learned how civilisation regarded his crimes, that the Emperor's heart began to bleed.

The true facts as to the destruction of Louvain will startle the world--hardened though it has become to surprise at German crimes. Unfortunately, however, it is impossible to publish the details at this time without endangering the lives of people still in Belgium under German domination. But these people will speak for themselves when the Germans have been driven from Belgian soil, and they are once more free to speak the truth.

* * * * *

During the afternoon Count Clary had come over and announced that Austria-Hungary had declared war on Belgium, and that he had to leave at once. He has turned his Legation over to us. I went around to see him late in the evening, and made the final arrangements. This afternoon the Danish Minister came in and turned his Legation over to us, as he expects to go in a day or two. That will make four Legations besides our own under our protection.

Austrian guns have been in action for some days, and now it has been thought worth while to regularise the situation. The Austrian Minister has, therefore, under instructions from his Government addressed the following note to the Belgian Government:

_August 28, 1914._

"Whereas Belgium, having refused to accept the proposals made to her on several occasions by Germany, is affording her military assistance to France and Great Britain, both of which Powers have declared war upon Austria-Hungary, and whereas, as has just been proved (_no indication as to how or when it has been proved_), Austrian and Hungarian subjects in Belgium have been obliged to submit, under the very eyes of the Belgian authorities, to treatment contrary to the most primitive demands of humanity and inadmissible even toward subjects of an enemy State, therefore Austria is obliged to break off diplomatic relations and considers herself from this moment in a state of war with Belgium. I am leaving the country with the staff of the Legation, and am entrusting the protection of Austrian interests to the United States Minister in Belgium. The Austro-Hungarian Government is forwarding his passports to Count Errembault de Dudzeele.

CLARY."

This is the first we have heard of any mistreatment of Austrians in this country, but then they probably had to advance some sort of reason for going to war.[4]

[Footnote 4: The Belgian Government sent the following reply to the Austrian declaration of war.

_Antwerp, August 29, 1914._

Belgium has always entertained friendly relations with all her neighbours without distinction. She has scrupulously fulfilled the duties imposed upon her by her neutrality. If she has not been able to accept Germany's proposals, it is because those proposals contemplated the violation of her engagements toward Europe, engagements which form the conditions of the creation of the Belgian Kingdom. She has been unable to admit that a people, however weak they may be, should fail in their duty and sacrifice their honour by yielding to force. The Government have waited, not only until the ultimatum had expired, but also until Belgian territory had been violated by German troops, before appealing to France and Great Britain, guarantors of her neutrality, under the same terms as are Germany and Austria-Hungary, to coöperate in the name and in virtue of the treaties in defense of Belgian territory.

By repelling the invaders by force of arms, she has not even committed a hostile act as laid down by the provisions of Article 10 of The Hague Convention, respecting the Rights and Duties of Neutral Powers.

Germany has herself recognised that her attack constitutes a violation of international law, and being unable to justify it, she has pleaded her strategical interests.

Belgium formally denies the allegation that Austrian and Hungarian subjects have suffered treatment in Belgium contrary to the most primitive demands of humanity.

The Belgian Government, from the very beginning of hostilities, have issued the strictest orders for the protection of Austro-Hungarian persons and property.

DAVIGNON.]

The ---- Chargé came around this afternoon to ask about getting to Antwerp, where he wants to flee for protection. He was very indignant because the Military Governor had refused to allow him to go. When I asked him on what ground the permission had been refused, he said that it had not exactly been refused, but that he could go only on his own responsibility. He wanted us to protest against this. I meanly suggested to him that he would be in much more serious danger if he had an escort of German troops to take him to the Belgian lines, and he left in a terrible state of mind.

Mr. Whitlock and the Spanish Minister went to call on the Military Governor this afternoon to get off some telegrams which he had promised to send, and to talk over the general situation. After that they went to call on the Burgomaster, and came back with a pretty good idea of what was happening in our fair city.

The Governor loaded them up with a large budget of official news, showing that Germany was victorious all along every line; that she was not only chasing the French and English armies around in circles, but that Uhlans were within forty kilometers of Paris, and that five Russian army corps had been beaten in Eastern Prussia. It really looks as though things were going pretty badly for the Allies, but we have absolutely nothing but German news and cannot form an accurate opinion.

The Germans are particularly bitter against the Belgian clergy and insist that the priests have incited the people to attack the German troops and mistreat the wounded. So far as I can learn, this is utter rubbish. The authorities of the church have publicly exhorted the people to remain calm and to refrain from hostile acts, pointing out that any provocation would bring sure punishment from the German military authorities. The priests I have seen have been at great pains to set an example that the Germans should be the first to commend.

The clergy has a tremendous influence in Belgium, and is sincerely respected. They will be a vital force in holding the people together in their patriotic devotion, and in maintaining public tranquillity.

A new Governor-General is to be sent us here. The Minister could not remember his name. I am curious. Von Lüttwitz will remain for the present at least.

The Burgomaster reports that the inhabitants of Brussels are calm and that there need be no fear of trouble unless they are allowed to go hungry. A committee has been formed to revictual the town, and is working night and day. Monsieur Solvay has given a million francs, and other Belgians given large sums. Soup kitchens are being started for the poor and the question of bringing food supplies from neutral countries is being taken up and pushed with activity. These Belgians are admirable in the way they handle things of this sort. They all realise the importance of keeping quiet so as to avoid any possibility of a repetition of the Louvain business. It would take very little to start something of the sort here and the result would be the same--the destruction of the city. Naturally everybody is turning to and trying to head off any excuse for violence.

* * * * *

_Brussels, Sunday, August 30, 1914._--Our place has got to be the local diplomatic corner grocery, where all the village loafers come to do their heavy loafing. They bring in all the fantastic rumours that are abroad in the land, and discuss them with all solemnity. In the last day or so we have had it "on the best authority" that the Queen of Holland has had her consort shot because of his pro-German sympathies; that the Kaiser has given up all hope and taken refuge in Switzerland; that the United States had declared war on Germany and Austria; that the King and Queen of the Belgians had fled to Holland, and that all was over. These are just a few.

Troops have been pouring through the town steadily all day on the way to Vilvorde, where the Belgians are still fighting, and to the south, where there is heavy cannonading going on. The Belgians are making a big fight on the Antwerp road, evidently to hold the attention of one German army corps and lighten France's load by just that much. It is a hopeless fight so far as they themselves are concerned, but it throws their courage and fighting qualities into higher relief.

We are now the pampered pets of both sides. The German troops cheer our flag when the motor noses its way through them. The people of the town are equally enthusiastic, and many of them are wearing small American flags in their buttonholes. How long it will last there is no telling, but while it does, our work is made just that much easier.

Lunched at the Palace Hôtel with Bulle and Blount. Riseis, the Italian Secretary, came in and joined us. Bulle told him the story of our trip to Louvain with embellishments that made my eyes start from my head. I had not realised what a desperate adventure we had been on until I heard it as it should be told. It made the real thing seem mild.

Before lunch we drove to Blount's to learn whether the cannonading to the south was still going on. It was--heavy booming of German guns; no French guns to be heard. Late in the afternoon Blount and I drove off into the country to see whether we could locate the fighting to the south. We got as far as Nivelles, but all was as peaceful as it should be on a perfect Sunday afternoon. The people there were surprised that anyone should have thought there was fighting there. It was still much farther to the south. We drove around in search of evidence of fighting, but could find none. And this after circumstantial accounts of hand-to-hand struggle through all this part of the country!

* * * * *

_August 31st._--This morning began with a troop of people in to tell us that the rough work was about to begin, and that Brussels was to go up in smoke. There is a good deal of unrest in the lower end of town and trouble may break out at any time. Bad feeling has grown a good deal in the past few days and one good row would throw the fat in the fire. I went through the rough part of town late this afternoon and found patrols everywhere, heavily armed and swaggering about in groups of four. For their own sake I hope the people will not do anything foolish.

People are making another effort to get away and are not finding it easy. At six this morning a crowd left here for Ninove, twenty kilometers to the west. Twenty-five hundred of them clung all over the trams that make the trip. At Ninove they walked a mile or so, carrying their belongings, and caught a train to Alost, where they changed for another train for Ghent. Goodness knows how many changes they had ahead of them after that. The trip was supposed to end safely in Ostend some time this evening. It usually takes two hours.

Hearing that the train service was open and that boats were running from Ostend to Folkstone, we decided to verify the tidings and then get off some of our people, who should have gone long ago.

To make sure Blount and I motored down to Ninove after lunch to telephone the Consul at Ostend and learn the true state of affairs. When we reached Ninove we found the station so packed with refugees that there was no getting near the telephone bureau. The Chef de Gare, who had never in his long and honourable career had such a mob to lord it over, was so puffed up that he could not get down near enough to earth to hear our questions, so we decided to proceed to Alost and try our luck there.

We motored over in short order and got quick communication with the Consul at Ostend. He had very little news save that a lot of British Marines had been landed there and had to-day been taken away again. He gave us what we wanted in the way of steamer information.

I got the Consul-General at Antwerp on the telephone and learned that all was well there.

As I came out of the booth from this second call, I was held up by a Garde Civique, who inquired if I was the _Monsieur de l'automobile_. He would like to see my papers. Certainly. Then I remembered that I had left all my Belgian papers at the Legation and had nothing but papers in German from the military authorities. I showed them anyway. Before he could examine us any further, three eager amateur Sherlocks came bursting into the room and took charge of the proceedings. The leader pointed an accusing finger at Blount, and exclaimed, "You have come from Ninove!" Blount admitted it. "You had a third person in the car when you left there!" "_Pas du tout._" "On the contrary, I have three witnesses to prove it." Aside from the fact that nobody could have got to Alost in the time we had, it made no real difference how many people we had in the car, and Blount said as much. Then our accuser changed his plan of attack. "I observed you when you arrived, and you were speaking a language which was perhaps not German, but sounded like English." "It was," said Blount. "Aha," triumphantly, "but you said you were Americans!"

By this time the Chef de Gare had come to answer our questions and we waved our persecutors aside while we talked to him. They kept quiet and meekly stood aside, as we bade them. While we talked with our functionary, I looked out on the square and saw that we were a real sensation. The Garde Civique had been called out and was keeping the place clear. The crowd was banked up solid around the other three sides of the square. They looked hopeful of seeing the German spies brought out and shot. By signing our names on a scrap of paper, which the amateurs compared with the signatures on different papers we had about us, we convinced them that we were harmless citizens, and were allowed to go. The crowd seemed greatly disappointed to see us walk out free. The Garde Civique let them loose as we got in the car, and they came thronging around for a good close look at us.

We honk-honked our way through them, thanking our lucky stars we had not had a worse time of it.

At the edge of the town we looked up and saw two German aeroplanes snooping around. A minute later a crowd of people surged across the street to bar our way, shouting that we must go no farther, as the Germans were approaching the town and that it was dangerous to proceed. Two young officers came across the street to tell us in great glee that they had made a dash in a motor at the first German outpost and had brought in four prisoners. They were bursting with joy in their exploit, but by this time they may themselves be prisoners.

In a few minutes we came to the first German outpost, and had our papers carefully examined. From then on we were held up every few yards and nearly had our papers worn out from much handling. At one place a young Lieutenant looked over our papers and burst out into roars of laughter at the name of von Jarotzky. He called to other officers. They came up, looked at the signature, and also burst out into loud laughter. I asked them what the joke was, but they were not telling.

We got in about seven o'clock, without incident.

Went to see von Herwarth after dinner on behalf of a poor Belgian woman whose husband, a Major in the Grenadiers, is dangerously wounded and in the military hospital at Antwerp. The Germans are going to send her up to-morrow on a motor with some Belgian officers, who are being exchanged. I saw the aide-de-camp who is going through with the car and asked him to be nice to her. Then to her house, to shut up a lot of old women of both sexes who were trying to dissuade her from going, on the ground that the Germans would hold her as a hostage. I suppose she will be off.

Mrs. Bridges,[5] wife of the former British Military Attaché, was in this evening for help. A British prisoner told of seeing Colonel Bridges fall from his horse at Mons, mount again, ride a little way and fall. She cannot get to Mons, so we are getting her off to France via England, in the hope that she may find him on that side.

[Footnote 5: Colonel Bridges was badly wounded at Mons, but escaped, recovered, was wounded again at Nieuport, but survived both, and having received the rank of Lieutenant-General, was the military member of the Balfour Mission to the United States in 1917.]

It is a pitiful business, and the worst of it is that they all think we have some miraculous power to do anything we like for them. I only wish we could.

* * * * *

_Brussels, September 1, 1914._--- The first thing this morning I had a pow-wow with Hulse about how to handle the funds that are being gathered to relieve the enormous amount of distress that we shall have to meet here. There is a good deal of it even now. All the big factories are closed. Most of the shops have their shutters up, and the streets are filled with idle people. Importations of foodstuffs, even from the outlying districts, have stopped dead. Conditions are bad enough in all conscience, but they are nothing compared to what we have ahead, when cold weather comes on.

A lot of bankers and big business men have got together to wrestle with the financial problem. The Burgomaster has his people at work, trying to get their hands on foodstuffs and coördinate their work.

I went to the Foreign Office and talked things over with von Herwarth. He straightened out some of the tangles, and we were able to get things moving.