Chapter 15

The way the German army cleaned out the wine of the country was a revelation to everybody. They would not take what they needed for the day's drinking but would clear out whole cellars at a time and load what was not drunk onto carts to be carried away. The result was that people who had a little warning had recourse to all sorts of ingenious tricks to save some of their store. There was one bright man in the province of Namur who removed his stock of wine--all except a few thousand bottles of new wine--and deposited them in the ornamental pond near his château. The Germans arrived a few hours afterward and raised a great fog because they were not satisfied with the amount of wine they found. The owner of the château had discreetly slipped away to Brussels and they could not do anything to him. However, they tapped all the walls for secret hiding places and went over the park to see if anything had been buried--all in vain. The next morning, however, the pond was covered with labels which had soaked off and floated to the surface, and after draining the pond the whole stock was carted away.

Madame B----, who was there, has an interesting souvenir which she proposes to keep if possible. During the first days of the war her château was occupied by a lot of officers, who got gloriously drunk and smashed up pretty well everything in the drawing-room and dining-room. One of them, with a fine sense of humour, took a piece of hard chalk and wrote on the top of her piano in large letters: _Deutschland über alles!_ The crowd left the place in the morning without trying to cover their traces, and Madame B---- came in to put things to rights. The first thing she did was to get a large piece of plate glass to cover the top of the piano so that the legend would not be effaced, and over that she placed an ordinary piano cover so that no future visitor would be inclined to erase the inscription. When the war is over this will be an interesting reminder of her visitors.

This morning I was ready to start for Antwerp. My _laisser-passer_ had been promised for ten o'clock. When it did not come by that hour, I went up to see Baron von der Lancken who had agreed to attend to the matter. He received me most graciously, told me how delighted he was to see me, how it pleased him to see that we came to him with our little troubles, etc. He kept off the subject of the _laisser-passer_ as long as he could, but when he could stave it off no longer he said that he must ask me to see von Herwarth, who had been placed in charge of all matters regarding passports, etc. I made a blue streak over to Herwarth's office, and saw him after a little delay. He kept me as long as he could, and told me all that he knew about the war and perhaps a great deal more. When we got down to the subject of my visit he said that von der Lancken was mistaken, that passports could be granted only by Colonel von Claer who had his office about a block away. I began to smell a rat about this time, but kept plugging away. I spent an hour and a quarter in the antechamber of the Colonel, being unable to get to him or to any of his officers. It was all part of a game. Both von der Lancken and Herwarth harped upon the danger of the trip to Antwerp, advised against it and told how terribly they would feel if anything were to happen to me. I asked each of them point blank if they contemplated an attack while I was there. They both avoided the subject, but said that with the situation as it was now it was impossible to tell from one moment to another what might happen. I saw that they were undecided about what was going to happen next, and that until they did know they did not intend to let me go. They naturally do not wish to have anything happen to me or anyone else connected with the Legation, so I feel entirely safe about going.

After lunch I went back to the siege and stayed until my friend, the Colonel, left by the fire-escape or some equally desperate way so as to avoid seeing me.

Von der Goltz had sent word to the Minister that he was coming here for tea this afternoon, and wanted to meet the Spanish Minister. That was our opportunity, and the Minister was all primed with what he was to say to the old chap. They beat us to it, however. The problem had evidently been decided since I saw von der Lancken in the morning, for he greeted me with the news that the _laisser-passer_ would be around in the course of the evening. He added that the General was anxious to send one of the Belgian Ministers of State to Antwerp, and would appreciate it if I would take him with me. He is Count de Woeste, the man who has always fought against having an army, on the ground that Belgium was so fully guaranteed by her treaties that it was unnecessary. Baron von der Lancken says that they will make out a _laisser-passer_ on which he will be included, and that the military authorities will mark out the route by which we had best go, so as to avoid running into trouble. I imagine it will take us by way of Termonde and St. Nicolas.

The crowd that came to tea included von der Goltz, Pacha, Baron von der Lancken, Herr von Sandt, and Count Ortenburg--a scion of a mediatised Bavarian family. They told us of all the glorious triumphs of the German army, and of the terrible drubbing that was in store for their enemies. They stayed on for about an hour.

When they left, I escorted the old man to his car. Before he climbed in, he looked me over curiously and remarked: "_Tiens, c'est fous qui faîtes ce foyage à Anfers! Four afez peaucoup de gourage. Che tacherai d'arranger un petit entr'acte pour fous être agreaple. Mais il vaut refenir aussitot gue bossible!_" They evidently intend to hold off for a day to await certain developments, and I am to get the benefit of the delay.

The Marshal also told us that Maubeuge had fallen, and that they had made forty-five thousand prisoners. It seems almost incredible that the French and English would have left that many men at Maubeuge when they knew that it was bound to fall. Perhaps we shall find that this is not altogether accurate. They say nothing about what is happening in Austria. The news from England and Antwerp is to the effect that the Russians are giving the Austrians a hard time of it.

This afternoon the German headquarters issued an order prohibiting the bringing of newspapers to Brussels from the outside world, and announcing that any one who brings newspapers here or is found with papers in his possession will be severely punished. Two German papers will be distributed by the authorities, and everything else is taboo. They evidently intend that their own version of passing events shall be the only one to get out here.

* * * * *

_Brussels, September 13, 1914._--Ever since the 9th I have been off on my little jaunt to Antwerp, and have not been able to get a line on paper.

I was not at all sure that I was going to get away at all, until I got down to the Legation on Wednesday morning and found my _laisser-passer_, signed by von der Goltz, waiting for me--another to add to my already large and interesting collection. With it was a letter from my friend and well-wisher, Baron von der Lancken, who said that an officer would be assigned to accompany us as far as the German outposts. He suggested that I take along a large white flag to be hoisted over the motor for the run between the lines. The note and _laisser-passer_ had arrived at the Legation about one o'clock in the morning, and had looked so important that the slaves waked the Minister from a deep sleep to receive them.

When I got to the office I found that Villalobar had not sent over his contribution of letters, so I ran up to the Legation and saw him. He bade me farewell as though I were off to certain death, and loaded me with a large bundle of letters and telegrams.

When I got back to the shop, I found my fellow-passenger, the Count de Woeste, waiting for me. He is a leader of the Catholic party which has been in power in Belgium for the past thirty years, and, although he is seventy-five years old, he is still a big figure in the little country. He behaved very well on the trip, and if I were a Belgian citizen I should vote for him on account of his good nerve.

We bowled off to headquarters, where I was mightily pleased to find that von Herwarth had assigned himself to the duty of taking us up to the outposts--just for a visit. It was the only satisfactory one I have had with him since he came. At headquarters there were always too many interruptions. My old travelling companion had a hard time to keep himself in hand and not enter upon a joint debate upon the war, its causes and justification. He did well, however, and my two passengers parted on good terms, even going to the extraordinary length of shaking hands at the outpost.

A big military motor, filled with armed men, was sent ahead to act as guide, and we followed along closely behind in a cloud of dust.

From the outskirts of Brussels right up to the German outposts at Hofstade, the fields were filled with German troops of every sort--infantry, lancers, heavy artillery, and even three or four large detachments of sailors in blue blouses and caps. All the men, except the sailors and a few of the Landsturm who wear conspicuous blue uniforms, were in the new greenish grey, which is about the finest color that has yet seen active service. Frequently we drove several hundred yards beside a field before noticing that it was filled with soldiers. Several of the villages between Dieghem and Hofstade were partially burned, and there were evidences of shell fire--which to these peasants must be a perfectly convincing substitute for hell-fire--and of fighting at really close quarters. Between Perck and Hofstade, the fields were covered with deep entrenchments, and over some of these were stuck dummy heads to draw hostile fire. Some, on the other hand, were fitted with Belgian caps picked up on the battle-field, evidently for the purpose of inducing Belgian troops to approach for a closer look before firing. Most of the big trees along the road had been cut down, and many houses razed to the ground so as to have a cleaner sweep for the artillery. At Dieghem, the German pilot-car picked up a naval officer who was to accompany us as far as the outposts and to inspect his men on the way back.

On the outskirts of Hofstade, under a brick railway bridge, we found the last German troops. They had some hard fighting here at the time of the last Belgian sortie, and the bridge and the surrounding houses showed evidences of shell fire.

I was rather against putting up the white flag, but both Herwarth and the naval officer were most insistent that I should do so, saying that the country between the lines was filled with patrols, both Belgian and German; that they felt that hostilities were to be commenced at any moment, and that any one who ventured into the district between the lines would stand a fine chance of being shot unless he carried a conciliatory emblem. They rigged up a long pole on the side of the car with a white flag about six feet square, and bidding a glad farewell to the representatives of Hohenzollern and Company, we started out to feel our way into Malines. About 500 yards beyond the bridge we sighted two Belgian bicycle patrols who, on seeing us, jumped off their machines and ran into an abandoned farmhouse. Knowing that they were at high tension, we crept up very slowly so that they might have a good look at us before trying their marksmanship. They were peeking over the window-ledge, with their rifles trained at us; but after a good look at the black clothes and white whiskers of M. de Woeste they pulled in their weapons and waved us to go ahead. About a kilometer farther on, we came around a turn in the road and nearly ran into the first Belgian outpost--six men and an officer. As we came around upon them they scurried behind stone walls and trees, and gave us the usual pleasant greeting of levelled rifles. As the most prudent things to do under such circumstances, the car was stopped, and I went ahead to parley. The officer proved to be young Z----. He turned quite white when he got a good look at me, and remarked that it was fortunate they had not had a sight of us farther down the road, as we would certainly have been filled with lead.

He said that the Germans had tried three times that morning to get through the lines in cars flying the white flag, in one instance at least, with a machine-gun in the car. As a result of this, the outposts had orders not to take any chance for the rest of the time intervening before the attack which was expected to begin at any minute.

Far be it from me to suggest that our friends had me put up the white flag, so as to offer proof of the Belgian savagery in firing on the white flag.

After this little experience, we took in our white flag and made the rest of our trip without trouble. We found outposts about every hundred yards, and were stopped at the point of the rifle each time; but as we got farther away from the outer lines the behaviour of the posts was noticeably less nervous, and when we got into Malines the mere sight of our papers was sufficient to let us freely through.

Since my last trip, the Belgians have been working steadily at their preparations for defence, and have accomplished wonders. Their large tracts of land, some of them forming natural routes, for entry between the forts, have been inundated with water from the canals so as to be quite impassable. Tremendous barbed wire entanglements form a broad barrier all around the outer and inner fortifications; they are so thick and so strongly braced that artillery fire would be practically useless against them, and cutting with wire nippers would be so slow that it could not be accomplished without a horrible loss of men.

There are any number of huge searchlights placed on the fortifications to sweep the skies for Zeppelins. Since my last visit, one Zeppelin had succeeded in getting over the town, but was surprised and dropped its whole cargo of 15 bombs in a distance of a few hundred yards, taking no lives and doing little material damage. Since then, several big craft have appeared at night, but have always been frightened away by the searchlights and the fire of the small vertical guns which have been ready for them.

All the villages which cluster around the fortifications have been razed to the ground, and the avenues of big trees have been cut down; it is a pretty dreadful sight.

I left M. de Woeste at the Grand Hôtel, where the Cabinet is staying, and then made for the Saint Antoine. Had lunch with Sir Francis Villiers and Colonel Fairholme, and got my first real news since the Prussian headquarters stopped issuing bulletins of German victories. Sir Francis showed me the telegrams he had received about the German check and retreat in France; and Prince Koudacheff, the Russian Minister, who joined us for coffee, vied with him by showing me his telegrams about the Russian advance in Eastern Prussia and in Austria.

After luncheon, I had some pow-wows on the subject that had brought me, and went to see various people for whom I had messages. They are a lot more cheerful than the last time I was in Antwerp, and are ready for anything.

From the Foreign Office, I went to the Consulate General, where I found a mountain of letters and telegrams. Got off my cables, and answered as much of the other correspondence as was absolutely necessary--no more.

On my way back to the hotel, I ran into General Jungbluth coming out of the Palace, and was promptly hauled inside for gossip.

The Queen, who has very properly come back from England, walked in on us and stopped to hear the news from Brussels.

I got back to the hotel, and found all the colleagues waiting for me to hear the latest news from Brussels. I played my part, and was nearly torn to pieces in their eagerness for news from the town where there is none. They were all there except the Papal Nuncio, who is most unhappy in the midst of war's alarms and hardly budges from the episcopal palace.

After dinner I was again asked to go to the Grand Hôtel to see the Prime Minister. He had nothing startling to say, but was anxious to know what was going on in Brussels. He showed me his telegrams from France, England and Russia, and his maps with the recent movements worked out with little flags.

Monsieur de Brocqueville told me an interesting incident that had taken place at Ghent. It seems that when the Germans arrived there, they sent in an officer and several soldiers to arrange for requisitions, etc., a promise having been given that they would not be molested. Of course, the whole town was on the _qui vive_ and everybody had been warned to refrain from incurring their displeasure. Just as the German motor passed in front of our Consulate, a Belgian armoured car came charging in from Antwerp, knowing nothing of the presence of the Germans, and upon seeing the enemy uniform, opened fire, wounding the officer and one of the men.

That was enough to start things, and the town would probably be in ruins to-day but for the quick thinking and action of Van Hee, the American Vice-Consul. He plunged down the staircase, seized the Burgomaster, who happened to be present, pushed him into a motor with the wounded men and went straight to the German headquarters to explain that the attack had been made by two men from Antwerp who knew nothing of the agreement reached between the city and the German forces, and to plead that no reprisals should be made upon the city. The general said that he was prepared to accept the statement of the Vice-Consul on this matter, and that he would not therefore visit retribution on the town if the requisitions which he had demanded were promptly furnished. The requisitions were heavy, and he was apparently afraid that they might not be sent. He said that he would send in troops to occupy the town until the supplies requisitioned were actually in his possession, but finally agreed to refrain from doing so on condition that the Vice-Consul should give his word of honour that the supplies should be forthcoming.

Van Hee took this responsibility, and the General agreed to keep his troops outside the town. When they got back to Ghent, the Military Governor disavowed the arrangement on the ground that the Burgomaster had no right to enter into an agreement with the Germans and that he, as Military Governor, was the only one with any authority to deal with them. He therefore declared that no supplies should be sent. The Burgomaster telegraphed the Prime Minister in Antwerp, and placed the entire situation before him, and Monsieur de Brocqueville promptly telegraphed back that since the American Vice-Consul had given his word of honour to the German General it was impossible to disavow the agreement, and that the supplies should be sent out immediately. This was a pretty high stand for the Belgians to take, but they feel that Van Hee saved Ghent from destruction, and are correspondingly grateful to him.

Getting around Antwerp in the evening is quite an undertaking at this time; no street lamps are lighted, all the window shades lined with black, and heavy black shades are placed over the small electric lights in the courtyards of hotels, etc.--all of this to keep from giving any indication to the Zeppelins as to where to drop their visiting cards. A heavy detachment of soldiers guards the approach to the Saint Antoine, and there are patrols in all the streets. The few motors allowed on the street have no lights, and are stopped by all the patrols, who do not call out but rise up silently in front of you and demand the password. It is a ticklish business finding one's way. The big searchlights on the forts sweep the skies from nightfall until dawn, making a wonderful sort of fireworks.

When I got back to the hotel I found Prince Caraman Chimay waiting for me with a message from the Queen. Also poor Prince Ernest de Ligne, whose son, Badouin, was killed in one of the armoured motors several days ago.

Young de Ligne, who was a volunteer, was in one of three armoured cars that went out on a reconnaissance toward the German lines. Just before entering a sunken road between two fields they stopped a Flemish peasant and asked him whether there were any Germans anywhere about. The peasant told them that three Uhlans had been seen a short time before but they had gone away. The three motors, de Ligne in the first, started down and were attacked by about forty Germans under command of a major. De Ligne was shot in the head and died shortly afterwards. The man who took his place at the wheel was killed, and several others of the party were also badly wounded and have since died. The third motor came up from some little distance behind and opened on the Germans, killing or wounding nearly all of them, including the officer, who was killed.

A young chap named Strauss, whose mother was an American, had the mitrailleuse in his car, and stood upright, firing upon the Germans without being touched by the heavy rifle fire that they directed against him. When the Germans had been put to flight he and the other survivors got the three cars into running order, and brought them all back to Antwerp, where de Ligne and two of the others died.

Prince Ernest had a hard time getting through from Brussels, and was fired on several times by the German troops, who were even more nervous than in the morning, when I came through. One of his nephews has also been killed, and another nephew, Prince Henri de Ligne, is in the aviation corps, and has been in the thick of it ever since the beginning of the war. He and his wife are also staying at the Saint Antoine.

On Thursday morning I got caught in another avalanche of telegrams and had to spend a couple of hours at the Consulate-General polishing off and finishing business. Stopped in at the palace on the way back and saw General Jungbluth, who showed me the latest telegrams. I gathered up what newspapers I could beg or buy and stuffed them into a military pouch to take back. Had an early lunch, gathered up M. de Woeste and Faura, whom I was to bring back, and started about one. We got through Malines, across the only one of the three bridges which is left, and started down the bank of the canal toward Hofstade, where Herwarth was to meet us at two o'clock. There was heavy firing by small guns ahead and a certain amount of protective firing from the forts behind us, with the shells singing high above our heads, but we thought that it was probably aimed further to the south and that we could get through.