Part 10

Even in days that were so much brighter for outsiders, in August and September, we were denied the satisfaction of knowing that our cause was progressing. The information allowed us did little to ease the pressure of mingled hope and anxiety. We longed to learn something definitely encouraging of what was going on where the cannon, ever louder, was continuously roaring. Day by day our papers were searched for some hopeful news, through long columns concocted only to destroy hope and breed despair. Every event suggesting menace to the Allied countries, culled from obscure journals in every part of the world (especially from the _National Zeitung_ of Bâle), was set forth and embroidered. Often they bore no more reliable heading than “_Le Bruit court_,” but their effect on a people now morbidly prone to look on the dark side of things was none the less depressing. Irish troubles; strikes and discontent in India; political confusion in France and Italy; friction between the United States and Japan or Mexico; disastrous failure of the Allied venture in Russia—such items contrasted with the triumphant German communiqués, which, even when acknowledging retreat, depicted it as a victory, or a mere tactical movement to attain a stronger position for a decisive counter offensive.

Only later were we allowed to know when a position of importance was won by the Allies. Our first knowledge that Péronne had been retaken was the naïve announcement in the German report, “Péronne now finds itself immediately in front of our lines”!—as though the town had grown weary of being behind them, and had of its own will altered its position!

On Monday, 30th September, our principal source of news, _La Belgique_ (entirely under German control), contained the following: “Between the Ailette and the Aisne there have been no more battles, but the Germans have withdrawn their line to the east of section Allemont-Jany, leaving Pirnon, Chavegnor, and the fort of La Malmaison in the hands of the French.” In regard to the retreat at Cambrai it was stated in the same paper, 30th September, that the withdrawal “_plus en arrière_” of German troops was executed at night unperceived by the enemy, who “for a long time the following morning still held the evacuated territory under fire”; and, in reference to the situation between the Ailette and the Aisne, “Without the least intervention of the enemy, we have drawn back our line behind the Canal de l’Oise,” etc. “_Ce mouvement, préparé depuis de jours, s’est effectué méthodiquement et sans être entravé par l’ennemi._” This “official report,” in a tone of curt indifference, proceeds to show all British advances as negligible. Then came such an announcement as this: “Conflict between Suippes and the Aisne and also between Argonne and the Meuse; our forces have attained a complete success.”

The redemption of Cambrai, St. Quentin, etc., we only discovered after tracing on the map insignificant places appearing in the war-news allowed us as reached or passed by the Allied forces; usually farms or other trifling localities formerly unknown to fame. Delightful as these discoveries were, they could awake no thrill of confident enthusiasm because overshadowed by the contemptuous tone in which each slight advance and the appalling cost to French and English was presented. Moreover, every Allied success was attributed solely to the clever military strategy of the Germans. Above all was belittled any progress made by the British, whose abridged and doctored communiqués were always presented in weak and childlike terms that made them appear ridiculous. The English never knew, until several days after evacuation, that the Germans had withdrawn from any locality for which they were fighting. It was stated in an official announcement from Berlin, dated 8th September: “_Le détachement du contact avec l’ennemi s’operait presque toujours à l’insu de l’ennemi._” Another official statement (13th August) was as follows: “The British offensive between the Ancre and the Avre has been checked, after the strong and vain attacks which have cost them such great losses, at the limit of the old battlefield of the Somme.... On the other hand, the French have once more placed in line many fresh divisions in order to attempt to pierce, in spite of all, our positions between the Avre and the Oise to which the Germans have retired in so able a manner (_d’une manière si habile_) after having inflicted such heavy losses on their adversaries.”

Niggardly as this information was, we were of course able to derive from it a certain amount of encouragement. But this was damped by the boastful German confidence, the constantly reiterated threat of another vast offensive which would bring the war to an end glorious for Germany; the awful descriptions of French towns reduced to heaps of ashes, and the incalculable losses of the Allies.

In September, when matters were much harder than we suspected for the Central Powers, a new voice came from the monster’s mouth—or rather a still more pitiful, soft-hearted cry for poor suffering humanity!—from these people who, after two thousand years of civilization that had gained for them so high a place in the world, had revived, without cause, the treachery and barbarity that had made them odious to and distrusted by Cæsar; who committed crimes in 1914-15 and 1916 that will haunt the world’s memory for ever! What a mockery must those German pleas for humanity have appeared to the people of Tamines, Aerschot, Louvain, and other districts of Belgium still grieving for those ruthlessly murdered, still morally suffering from the horrors to which they were unjustly subjected!

Heart-rending pictures were given of fair towns destroyed in the valley of the Somme; of their homeless and perishing inhabitants; of beautiful historic edifices wrecked by the “folly of the French bombarding their own cities”—those centres of a hostile Power that had not hesitated to commit any outrage in its vainglorious and frantic rush for Paris! No murmur of regret had escaped the success-intoxicated legions who advanced, with comparative ease, from the ruins of innocent Belgian towns, leaving devastation and despair behind them! No pang of remorse then made them hesitate to slaughter guiltless citizens, and bury them in heaps, sometimes before life was extinct, or to crucify their first British prisoners—a fact I was later assured was true, by an English soldier who had seen the bodies!

But now that the avenging armies, overcoming obstacles such as the Germans never had to face, were uprooting them from the strongholds prepared during four years, the despotic song of victory through frightfulness suddenly became a whine of compassion, a childish and stupid wail for peace! No outsider could have been more infuriated at this than those in Brussels who had suffered under the despot’s hand and witnessed the vileness of his deeds. Again and again long articles appeared in our papers, trying to induce the cold and famished Belgians to add their impotent appeal for a cessation of hostilities, and to impress them with the suddenly developed Christian spirit of Germany! This failing, an attempt was made at terrorization. Photographs of ruined towns in France were exhibited, showing the homeless inhabitants flying for their lives. The papers gave highly coloured accounts of the general destruction, misery, and horror on the scene of each battle, as the price of every step in advance made by the Allies. The same fate was predicted for Belgium, should the unlikely happen, and the invincible German forces find it expedient to retire to one of their many well-prepared strongholds in that country. (The prospect of a German defeat was represented as too improbable to deserve contemplation.) At one time an account appeared describing the inevitable destruction of Brussels, should the Germans ever be driven back on it. In such a case, it was stated officially, Brussels was to be “the bouquet of the whole war.” Added to all this, quotations equally disheartening were printed from English papers. One, purporting to be from _The New Statesman_, was given on 2nd October as follows: “The Germans will certainly draw back their front to rectify it. But at a very short distance behind, they possess lines that form a solid base and, if able to hold it, they will not have lost more territory than they occupied at the beginning of 1918. And even supposing Douai and Cambrai should be lost to them, the experience of years must guard us against exaggerated optimism.” “Above all,” it finishes, “one can reasonably affirm that Hindenburg and Ludendorf have not absolutely renounced the idea of a counter offensive. For the moment, they relinquish territory, but their retreat is methodic, and we should greatly deceive ourselves to imagine it excludes the possibility of their launching a vigorous counter attack, when the Anglo-French assault will have come to an end through exhaustion.” With such discouraging signs came the German movement for peace and plea for humanity!

“This war-fury, this rage for destruction, must be nailed to the pillory” was quoted, about the same time, from a German socialistic paper of 1st August 1918. Would it have been quoted four years earlier, when blood and destruction were the means by which Germany thought to crush civilized states and become master of Europe? Now that her war-chariot lay wrecked amid the corpses of her legions, death, slaughter, and devastation suddenly began to appal her, and roused a cry of fear which found no echo in Belgium. When the British announced they were fighting east of Roussoy and had occupied Lempire, the official information from Berlin, dated the 20th September, told us “the British attempted an advance in the sector Epehy-Lempire with a great number of tanks. An enormous number of these were destroyed, the remainder being obliged to retire; and as to the British infantry, they fled in haste toward their positions of departure.” Every effort of the Allies was depicted as having failed, “_grâce au feu des mitrailleuses et de l’infanterie allemandes_.” Then, at the tail-end, a brief announcement would appear that the German line had retired, for strategical reasons, without being molested by the enemy.

In addition to these confusing and contradictory reports long editorials appeared sneering at the Allies’ futile efforts. The Americans’ advance at St. Mihiel was presented as having been attained “without combat,” the Germans having drawn back in accordance with long-prepared plans, and so secretly that the enemy was not aware of it and “only pursued us very hesitatingly.” When the British made their great rush on Cambrai and broke through the line that Hindenburg considered impregnable, it was attributed to a fog. When they advanced on Hummel it was over ground that had been deliberately evacuated, with such “masterly ability” that the British for _two days_ were unaware of the German’s retirement!

Despite the irritation such accounts caused in Brussels, enough was unintentionally betrayed to revive our hope. Most childish of all was the continued boasting of what Germany had accomplished in her first onrush, which, considering all the overwhelming advantages she had, should have carried her to rapid victory. With her check at the Marne she was beaten, and that was the moment when the people and troops of Germany should have waked to their blunder, and rid their great nation of a malady that has ruined its prosperity and degraded its name.

XIII

As the chances of war continued adverse to the Kaiser’s “victorious armies” the occupying government began to show more lenient tendencies. In high quarters a gradual and very subtle softening was dimly perceptible. Belgians guilty of patriotic deeds that formerly would have brought upon them the severest punishment—deeds far more serious than that for which Miss Cavell was shot—were now treated with astonishing tolerance. Penalties even for flagrant acts of espionage and defiance of military regulations were palliated through the mysterious offices of a woman whose power no one understood. French by birth, but the widow of a German officer fallen in battle, this individual—a sweet-looking, _petite_ woman of about thirty, neither remarkable for beauty, force of character, nor personal magnetism, succeeded in having many death-penalties revoked, in liberating a number of civil prisoners and bending the governmental will, so long implacable, as she chose.

I made her acquaintance in the little faubourg house where she dwelt with her mother and brother, the latter an artist, both of the same pleasant, rather provincial and unimposing type as herself. Her manners and speech, soft and kindly; her soft, blue, rather childlike eyes suggested no latent power. One instance of her mediation, told me by herself, was that of a man and his daughter condemned to death for espionage. Damning evidence of guilt had been discovered in their possession—drawings and writings containing important information, some of which, it was ascertained, they had smuggled into Holland for the enemy. And although their death-sentence had already been given, the lady of mystery had it changed to imprisonment and a fine. The punishment in another case (that of a Belgian youth caught red-handed attempting to destroy a train conveying German troops) was also altered to a milder form of penalty.

While all in Brussels appreciated the good this young widow accomplished, they were none the less mystified; many ridiculous and, in some cases, ungenerous explanations all equally inadequate were given. A friend of mine, who was present while she pleaded before the military judges, spoke highly of her persuasive powers and stated she had won her object by appealing to their _humanity_! The case was that of a boy who had been caught trying to cross the frontier—almost the very crime for which Edith Cavell, Philippe Baucq, and others were condemned to death. She begged them to consider the anguish of the boy’s mother, to appreciate the noble patriotism of his impulse, to put themselves in his place and ask themselves if, at his age, they would not have done the same, and so forth—arguments that had been uttered in that room a thousand times, enhanced by the tears and agony of frantic mothers and wives, husbands and brothers, of those condemned and never pardoned! Yet this familiar plea, spoken by one lacking the deep, heart-torn passion with which it had so often been vainly uttered, won the boy’s reprieve! Why? It is difficult for anyone familiar with the former mercilessness of that military court to believe that her softly spoken appeal was alone responsible. A subtle change was coming over the spirit of German militarism. The worlds they had sought to conquer were fading from view, and anxiety to save something from the wreck was probably the root-incentive of their leniency.

During October 1918 a suppressed, half-incredulous excitement could be felt in the very air of Brussels, although contradictory reports prevented us from knowing anything definite. Now and again rumours of thrilling promise would sweep over the city, but disappointment had been too frequent, hope too often quenched in despair, for the lower classes to put much faith on them.

“_Est-ce vrai?_” was their almost invariable reply to news of encouraging character, and scarcely any enthusiasm was shown even by those of superior station. The dread of a new German rush forward appeared to haunt the minds of all, a dread kept alive by the only journals available and by the confusing accounts, always favourable to the enemy, these contained. Even as late as 2nd October we read that the Germans had broken through the Belgian lines, a report given with the old triumphant bravado. Of the battle between Roulers and Warvicq it was said the Allies had failed in their attack: “_Les Alliés ont attaqué sans succès_.” Near Cambrai the Canadians had made a slight advance costing them frightful losses, but were driven back on Tilloy by one division of Würtembergers!

On the same date appeared the following report: “D’importantes forces américaines ont attaqué à l’est de l’Argonne. Les points ou la bataille a été la plus chaude ont été de nouveau Apremont et le bois Montrebeau. Nous avons repoussé sur toute la ligne l’ennemi, qui a subi hier de nouvelles et particulièrement lourdes pertes.” Equally discouraging accounts were given of the situation in Italy, Macedonia, and Palestine—accounts as much at variance with the Allied communiqués.

Falsification of facts may have been considered necessary in a critical situation such as the Central Powers were facing. Surely, however, they might have spared the unrelenting efforts to terrify and dishearten the Belgians, who, locked in their prison, could not have influenced the Allies’ determination to bring the war to an end necessary for the world’s salvation.

Even when, on the 3rd of October, it was known in Brussels that Bulgaria had asked for a separate peace, German comments robbed the event of all encouraging significance. It was announced in our papers that enormous forces had been dispatched to Sofia which would “settle the Bulgarian difficulties at one stroke,” and drive the Allies back whence they had come! Consequently there was no general elation over an event of such tremendous significance to the outside world. We knew too little of what had led up to it, and hope had sunk too low to revive.

Although, of course, the ever-approaching thunder of guns told us much, and the _feu de barrage_ for weeks roared its awful tale, the only obvious indications we had of the vast changes brewing were the altered sentiment and behaviour of German soldiers. They occasionally uttered astounding opinions in regard to their Government and of sympathy with Belgium. The poor Belgians, so long subjected to German trickery, saw in this merely obedience to plotting chiefs who hoped thus to overcome their hatred. No one cut off as we were from outside news could otherwise understand it; while the journals presented little else than vainglorious accounts of Allied reverses, German submarine victories, and the bombardment of Paris by long-distance cannon!

In regard to the last-mentioned outrage, the feeling in Brussels was no less bitter than it must have been in France, and doubtless throughout the entire world. Our papers presented us daily with triumphant descriptions of the terror and devastation caused to the inhabitants of Paris, even stating that the city was being generally evacuated. The Zeppelin had not taught Germany that her uncivilized methods of war served merely to create large and indomitable armies in the opposing nations, once so little prepared for war and so lacking in enthusiasm!

By the time our beds were demanded, and armed men forced their way even into the poorest homes to rob the cold and hungry Belgians of their last remnant of comfort, the change in the soldiers’ sentiments became even more marked. Beds were taken, often from under the owners before they had risen in the morning, but in many cases there was a noticeable indifference shown by those who did the looting. The men who came to our house only took two mattresses, and made no attempt to search for wool that was hidden. One of them expressed very bitterly his distaste for the duty imposed on him, and said, among other startling remarks: “The whole war is an outrage imposed upon us Germans by our leaders, who must pay for it some day not far distant”! Another, whom I met in a shop, told me that if he had not a wife and little children in Germany he would never return to the Vaterland he had been falsely lured to protect. At mention of the Kaiser, he exclaimed savagely: “_Kaiser!—Ach, der Kaiser!_—Wait until the troops get back to Germany! There will be an accounting then!” and drew his finger significantly across his throat.

It was unspeakably pathetic at this time to see the war-weary, ill-clad, and under-fed German troops returning from the front to Brussels; especially those called back to the trenches, after a rest too brief to revive their strength, or dim their recollection of horrors endured. These poor, heavily laden slaves, many so young, with a look of yearning for home in their wide, helpless eyes, called for sympathy despite the wrong they represented. No voice acclaimed them, as they strode through a hating city to give up their lives for a monstrous error; but many of those who watched forgot, for a moment, past suffering to express a word of compassion unheard, alas, by those columns of desperate human beings—beings forced back to be massacred on foreign land, merely for the vanity of their ruler—merely that the German Kaiser’s long-cherished and carefully perfected military toy might avoid the disgrace even then inevitable! It was galling to better-class Belgians to note about this time a certain friendliness developing between the German soldiers and common people. At the markets, where soldiers swarmed, it was no rare sight to see girls hanging to their arms, and even older women talking and joking with them. The reason of this was not indifference to all that Belgium had suffered at German hands, but because to these people the soldiers spoke more openly. By dint of constant association they learned that all Germans were not criminals, that many hundreds of the men had been ignorant of the true situation—men who, awaking too late, were conscious of the injustice done and bitter against the power that had deceived and enslaved them.

This recalls a confession made to me, long before, by a man who had lived in Belgium for twenty years, but, being still a German citizen, was called back to the army at the outbreak of war. When approaching the Belgian frontier he and others hesitated, demanding why they were being led into Belgium, and were told that France had violated the country’s neutrality, and the Belgians had called upon Germany to defend her! Only when facing Belgian troops, they realized they had been deceived; and to hesitate then meant being shot by their own men.