CHAPTER XXIX.

HOW THE GERMANS ENTERED BRUSSELS.

One Thursday morning, attired in his scarf of office, M. Max drove out in a motor car, along with several other city officers, to meet the German general, and to arrange terms of surrender. He was received with that lack of politeness for which the German officer is notorious. After roughly ordering him to remove his scarf, the German general asked him if he was ready to surrender the city. If not, it would be shelled. M. Max replied that he had no choice in the matter; and was then informed that he and the other city officers would be held responsible for the good behaviour of the people, and that if they offended they would suffer. It was then arranged that the Germans were to march in next day, and that they were to be housed and fed at the expense of the city. When the burgomaster returned to Brussels, the Civic Guard, to their great disappointment, were ordered to give up their arms.

The German General Staff meant to make the entry into Brussels a matter of great pomp and display, so as to impress the citizens. They therefore arranged that an army corps which had not yet been engaged in fighting should be marched through the streets. The men were halted outside the town and given time to furbish themselves up for the occasion. The people of Brussels were not to be allowed to see the Germans against whom their fellow-countrymen had fought so bravely. There were to be no thinned ranks, no scarred, wounded, or war-weary soldiers in their streets, but an army as fresh and spick and span as though it were parading before the Kaiser at Potsdam.

The news that Brussels was in German hands had been flashed to every corner of the Fatherland, and had been received with loud rejoicings. Surely some of the more sober-minded Germans, even in that hour of rapture, must have remembered the remark of Napoleon, "The capture of an undefended city is no glory."

Try to realize the feelings of the people of Brussels as they gathered in the streets on that black day to see a ruthless and faithless enemy take possession of their beautiful and beloved capital. "Belgians," said an old soldier, with tears in his eyes, "can never forget this." They suffered then what their forefathers had suffered on the eve of Waterloo:--

"While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering with white lips, 'The foe!--they come, they come!'"

At two o'clock in the afternoon of 20th August the distant sound of guns announced the coming of the foe. Imagine the surprise of the people when the news flitted from mouth to mouth that their own M. Max was riding at the head of the German army. He had insisted on taking this place, because he was, as he reminded his captors, the first citizen of Brussels. On the wan, strained faces of the townsfolk there was the ghost of a smile when they saw him appear. Their quick-witted burgomaster was receiving the Germans not as a captive but as a host! It was a good joke, and the people could appreciate it, even on such a sad occasion.

Now the sound of bands was heard, and the advance guards of the Germans entered the city. By the side of M. Max rode a Prussian general--"a swarthy, black-moustached, ill-natured brute, dressed in khaki gray," as a bystander described him. I am sure that if he had been an angel of light the people of Brussels would have found fault with him at such a time. On came the waves of men, singing "Die Wacht am Rhein."[263]

"The wind-tost banners proudly fly; While runs the river, sounds the cry,-- 'We all will guard with heart and hand The German Rhine for German land.' Dear Fatherland, untroubled be, Thy Rhine Watch stand true, firm, and free."

Anon they broke into the strains of "Deutschland über Alles,"[264] the first verse of which I translate roughly as follows. It is sung to the air of the Austrian National Anthem, composed by Joseph Haydn, the greatest of Austrian musicians, in the year 1797.

"First in all the world, my Germany, First and foremost shalt thou be. When thy sons in soul united Grasp the shining sword for thee, From the Maas, yea to the Mernel,[265] From the Adige[266] to the sea, First in all the world, my Germany, First and foremost shalt thou be."

The Brunswick,[267] Death's Head, and Zieten[268] Hussars led the way; then came the infantry, followed by artillery with siege howitzers, and a hundred motor cars armed with quick-firing guns. As the men moved into the main streets they broke into that stiff-legged parade step which has been the triumphal march of the German army since the days of Frederick the Great.

The townsfolk in deep dismay watched the Germans filing into the Grand'-Place, and many of them muttered under their breath, "They will never come back again; the Allies will do for them." It is said that the German officers behaved very rudely to the people, and laughed scornfully in their faces, as though they wished to goad them into acts which would excuse an attack upon the city. The people, however, restrained themselves, and there was no bloodshed or destruction.

The city was placarded with notices threatening stern punishment to all those who opposed the troops, and a fine of £8,000,000 was levied on the place. Food and lodging were provided for the troops, and when the Staff arrived they made the town hall their headquarters. M. Max was ordered to furnish three hundred beds for them. "I will provide three hundred and one beds," said he, "for, of course, _I_ shall sleep there too."

When he was ordered to hand over a hundred of the chief men of the city as hostages[269] for the good behaviour of the people, the brave burgomaster refused to do anything of the sort. "I will be your hostage," he said, "and I will provide you with no others." On every occasion he was more than a match for the German officers. When one of the generals tried to browbeat him, and laid a revolver on the table to show him what his fate would be if he did not do as he was told, the burgomaster calmly picked up a pen and laid it beside the weapon. Even the slow, heavy Germans saw the meaning of this action. "The pen is mightier than the sword." Mr. Max meant them to understand that though they might kill him, writers in the future would tell the story of their shameful deeds, and brand their name with infamy for ever.

The Germans could do nothing with this brave, gay Belgian, who stood up so sturdily for the rights of his people; so at last they removed him from his office, and sent him to a German fortress in what they called "honourable custody." You may be sure that the townsfolk grieved greatly when their burgomaster was thus removed, and the Germans soon discovered that they were far more difficult to handle than when they had been under the care and guidance of the good M. Max.

* * * * *

The Germans occupied Brussels in force for a single day only. A garrison was left to hold the city, and the march through Belgium was continued. Meanwhile huge bodies of men, under the command of von Buelow, were passing unnoticed along the north bank of the Meuse towards Namur. At the same time two other armies were marching through the leafy Ardennes, where the overhanging foliage hid them from the eyes of the Belgian airmen. The great line was slowly but surely deploying for the long-delayed march into France.

With the occupation of Brussels by the Germans the first stage of the war comes to an end.

[Footnote 263: "The Watch on the Rhine."]

[Footnote 264: It was written by Hoffmann von Fallenleben at Heligoland in 1841. There is a monument to the composer in Heligoland.]

[Footnote 265: German name for the Niemen.]

[Footnote 266: Tributary of the Po, North Italy. The sea is the Baltic.]

[Footnote 267: Sovereign duchy of the German Empire, chiefly surrounded by the provinces of Hanover, Saxony, and Westphalia.]

[Footnote 268: Named after the Prussian general Zieten (_tsĕt'en_), who gained great renown in the wars of Frederick the Great.]

[Footnote 269: Persons left with the enemy as pledges that certain conditions will be fulfilled.]