On the 28th of October, 1914, a legally constituted court martial pronounced the following sentences:The policeman De Ryckere for having attacked, in the legal exercise of his duties, an authorised agent of the German Government, for having deliberately inflicted bodily hurt in two instances with the aid of other persons, for having aided in the escape of a prisoner and for having attacked a German soldier, was condemned to five years' imprisonment.The policeman Seghers for having attacked, in the exercise of his legal duties, an authorised agent of the German Government, for having deliberately inflicted bodily hurt on this German agent, and for having aided the escape of a prisoner (all these offences constituting one charge), was condemned to three years' imprisonment.The sentences were confirmed on October 31st by the Governor-General, Baron von der Goltz.The city of Brussels, not including its suburbs, has been punished for the injury by its policeman De Ryckere to a German soldier, by an additional fine of Five Million Francs.Brussels, November 1, 1914.The Governor of Brussels,Baron von Lüttwitz,General.
On the 28th of October, 1914, a legally constituted court martial pronounced the following sentences:
The sentences were confirmed on October 31st by the Governor-General, Baron von der Goltz.
The city of Brussels, not including its suburbs, has been punished for the injury by its policeman De Ryckere to a German soldier, by an additional fine of Five Million Francs.
Brussels, November 1, 1914.
The Governor of Brussels,
Baron von Lüttwitz,
General.
Last night we dined at Ctesse. N——'s to celebrate everybody's safe return.
Brussels, Sunday, November 8, 1914.—Barges of food are beginning to come in, and we have the place filled with people with real business concerning the food and a lot of the usual "halo-grabbers" anxious to give advice or edge into some sort of non-working position where they can reap a little credit.
We are put on German time to-day.
On November 4th the Governor-General came out with a proclamation ordering that German money be accepted in all business transactions. It is to have forced currency at the rate of one mark to one franc, twenty-five centimes. As a matter of fact, it is really worth about one franc, seven centimes, and can be bought at that rate in Holland or Switzerland, where people are glad enough to get rid of their German money. Any shop refusing to accept German paper money at the stipulated rate is to be immediately closed, according to the Governor's threat.
Brussels, November 9, 1914.—Late in the afternoon Jack and I took Max for a run in the Bois. While we were going across one of the broad stretches of lawn, an officer on horseback passed us, accompanied by a mounted orderly. To our surprise the orderly drew his revolver and began waving it at us, shouting at the same time that if that —————— dog came any nearer, he would shoot him down. The officer paid no attention, but rode on ahead. I started after them on foot, but they began to trot and left me in the lurch. I ran back to the motor, overtook them, and placed the car across their path. The officer motioned his orderly to go ahead, and then let me tackle him. He took the high ground that I had no reason to complain since the dog had not actually been shot, not seeming to realize that peaceable civilians might have legitimate objections to the promiscuous waving of revolvers. He declined to give his name or that of the soldier, and I gave up and let him ride on after expressing some unflattering opinions of him and his kind to the delight of the crowd that had gathered. They did not dare say anything direct, but as I got back into the car they set up a loud "Vive l'Amérique." The officer looked peevish and rode away very stiff and haughty. Of course, since he refused to give his name, there was no getting at him, and I was free to be as indignant as I liked.
The Germans are tightening up on the question of travel in the occupied territory, and we are now engaged in a disagreeable row with them over passes for the Legation cars. They want to limit us in all sorts of ways that make no difference to them, but cut down our comfort. They will probably end by giving us what they want; but when it is all done we shall have no feeling of obligation, having been forced to fight for it.
Brussels, November 14, 1914.—On the morning of the 10th, I came down to the Legation and found things in an uproar. A telegram had been received saying that two trainloads of food, the first shipment for the Province of Liège, would cross the frontier in the course of the afternoon, under convoy of Captain Sunderland, our Military Attaché at The Hague. The Minister and I are the only people authorized to receive shipments; and, as no power of attorney had been sent to the Consul at Liège, things were in a nice mess; and, at the request of the German authorities and the Committee, it was decided that I should go down, receive the stuff and make arrangements for its protection and for the reception of future shipments. The German authorities were so excited about my being there to head off any trouble that they hustled me off on an hour's notice without any lunch. I contrived to get Jack's name put on thelaisser-passer, so that he could go along and see a little something of the country. Joseph, the Legation butler, was wild to go along as far as his native village to see his aged ma, whom he had not seen since the beginning of the war, and he rode on the front seat with Max who was much delighted to get under way again.
Jack was thrilled with the trip, and nearly fell out of the car going through Louvain and the other ruined villages along the way. As we were in such a rush, I could not stop to show him very much; but in most of these places no guide is needed. Louvain has been cleared up to a remarkable extent, and the streets between the ruined houses are neat and clean. On my other trips I had had to go around by way of Namur, but this time we went direct; and I got my first glimpse of Tirlemont and St. Trond, etc.
When we reached Liège we went straight to the Consulate without pausing to set ourselves up at a hotel, but found that nothing was known of Captain Sunderland or his food trains. Thence to the German headquarters where we inquired at all the offices in turn and found that the gentleman had not been heard from. By the time we got through our inquiries it was dark; and, as we had nolaisser-passerto be out after dark, we had to scuttle back to the hotel and stay.
In the morning the Consul and I started off again to see what had become of our man. We went through all the offices again, and as we were about to give up, I found Renner, who used to be Military Attaché of the German Legation here, and is now Chief of Staff to the Military Governor. He cleared up the mystery. Sunderland had arrived about the same time I did, but had been taken in hand by some staff officers, dined at their mess, and kept busy until time for him to be off for Maestricht. He was, however, expected back in time to lunch at the officers' mess. He was also expected to dine with them in the evening. I left word that I wanted to see him and made off to get in touch with the members of the local committee and make arrangements as to what was to be done with the food. We sat and waited until nearly dark, when I decided to go out for a little spin. I gathered Jack and the Consular family into the car and went for a short spin.
After losing our way a couple of times we brought up at the Fort of Chaudefontaine, which was demolished by the Germans. It is on top of a veritable mountain and it took us some time to work our way up on the winding road. When we got there the soldiers on guard made no trouble and told us that we could mouse around for fifteen minutes. We walked out to the earthworks, which had been made by the Belgians and strengthened by the Germans, and then took a look at the fort itself, which was destroyed, and has since been reconstructed by the Germans. They must have had the turrets and cupolas already built and ready to ship to Liège, for the forts are stronger than they ever were before and will probably offer a solid resistance when the tide swings back, unless, of course, the allies have by that time some of the big guns that will drop shells vertically and destroy these works the way the German 42's destroyed their predecessors. It was very interesting to see and hard to realise that up to three months ago this sort of thing was considered practically impregnable.
When we got back we found that our man had come and had left word that he could be found at the Café du Phare at six o'clock. We made straight for that place, and found him. I made an appointment with him for the first thing next morning, and went my way.
I was bid to dine with the German Military Governor and his staff, but told Renner that since we were accredited here to the Belgian Government, accepting German hospitality would certainly be considered as an affront. He saw the point, and did not take offence, but asked me to come over after dinner for a talk and bring Jack along, the which I promised to do. While we were dining, a soldier with a rifle on his shoulder strode into the dining-room and handed me a paper; great excitement, as everybody thought we had been arrested. The paper was a pass for us to circulate on the streets after dark, so that we could go over to the headquarters. It was written on the back of a menu in pencil. Although dinner was over the entire mess was still gathered about the table discussing beer and Weltpolitik. At the head of the table was Excellenz Lieutenant-General von Somethingorother, who was commanding a German army on the eastern front when they got within fifteen miles of Warsaw. After being driven back he had an official "nervous breakdown," and was sent here as Governor of the Province of Liège—quite a descent, and enough to cause a nervous breakdown. There was another old chap who had fought in the Franco-Prussian war and had not yet quite caught up with this one. I foregathered with Renner and got my shop talk done in a very short time. Then everybody set to to explain to us about the war and what they fought each other for. It was very interesting to get the point of view, and we stayed on until nearly midnight, tramping home through a tremendous downpour, which soaked us.
The next morning at eleven I met Sunderland. We saw the Governor and the Mayor and Echevins, and talked things out at length. I had to collect a part of the cost of the food before I could turn it over, and they explained that the chairman of the local committee had gone to Brussels to negotiate a loan; he would be back in four or five days and if I would just wait, they would settle everything beautifully. That did not please me, so I suggested in my usual simple and direct way that the Governor rob the safe and pay me with provincial funds, trusting to be paid later by the committee. It took some little argument to convince him, but he had good nerve, and by half-past twelve he brought forth 275,000 francs in bank-notes and handed them over to me for a receipt. Sticking this into my pocket, I made ready to get under way, but there was nothing for it but that I must lunch with them all. Finally I accepted, on the understanding that it would be short and that I could get away immediately afterward. That was not definite enough, however, for we sat at table until four o'clock and then listened to some speeches.
When we got down the home stretch, the Governor arose and made a very neat little speech, thanking us for what we had done to get food to the people of Liège, and expressing gratitude to the American Government and people, etc. I responded in remarks of almost record shortness, and as soon as possible afterward, we got away through the rain to Brussels.
After getting through that elaborate luncheon, getting our things ready at the hotel, paying our bill, saying good-bye all around once more, etc., it was nearly five o'clock when we got off and nearly eight when we reached Brussels and put our treasure in the safe.
The Germans have begun arresting British civilians and we have had our hands full dealing with poor people who don't want to be arrested and kept in prison until the end of the war and can't quite understand whytheyhave to put up with it. It is pretty tough, but just another of the hardships of the war, and while we are doing our best to have the treatment of these people made as lenient as possible, we can't save them.
Brussels, November 16, 1914.—Some more excitement yesterday morning, when various British subjects were arrested.
Two German civilians tried to force their way into the British Consulate and arrest Mr. Jeffes, the British Consul, and his son, although the American flag was flying over the door and there was a sign posted to the effect that the place was under our protection and all business should be transacted with us. Fortunately Nasmith was there, and after trying to explain the matter politely, he made for the two men, threw them into the street, and bolted the door. The gum-shoe men were so surprised that they went away and have not been back. Last night I was called around to the Consulate and found two more men shadowing the place. There seemed to be no danger of arrest, but Nasmith spent the night there, and this morning I went around and took the Jeffes to our Consulate, so that if any attempt was made to take them, we should have an opportunity to protest. The higher authorities had promised not to seize them, but apparently you can never tell.
Yesterday was the King's Saint's Day, and word was passed around that there would be a special mass at Ste. Gudule. Just before it was to begin, the military authorities sent around and forbade the service. The Grand Marshal of the Court opened the King's book at his house, so that we could all go around and sign, as in ordinary times, for we are accredited to the King of the Belgians, but early in the morning an officer arrived and confiscated the book. The Government of Occupation seems to be mighty busy doing pin-head things for people who have a war on their hands.
Countess de Buisseret's little boy was playing on the street yesterday when the German troops passed by. Being a frightful and dangerous criminal, he imitated their goose-step and was arrested. M. de Leval went around to headquarters to see what could be done, supposing, of course, that when it was seen what a child he was, his release would be ordered. Instead, he was told seriously that the youngster must be punished and would be left in jail for some days.
Brussels, November 18, 1914.—This is another day of disgust. This morning one of the servants of the Golf Club came in to say that there were fifty German soldiers looting the place. In the afternoon Jack and I went out for a look at the place and to get my clubs. We found a lot of soldiers under command of a corporal. They had cleaned the place out of food, wine, linen, silver, and goodness knows what else. Florimont, the steward, had been arrested because he would not tell them which of the English members of the club had gone away and where the others were staying. Having spent his time at the club, the fact was that he did not know who was still in town and could not tell, but the Germans could not be convinced of this and have made him prisoner.
I stopped at headquarters this afternoon to see von der Lancken. As I came out a fine Rolls-Royce limousine drew up on the opposite side of the street—a military car. The chauffeur, in backing out, caught and tore the sleeve of his coat. In a rage, he slammed the door and planted a tremendous kick in the middle of the panel with his heavy boot. I stood agape and watched. He looked up, caught me looking at him, and turned his anger from the motor to me. He put his hands on his hips, shot out his jaw and glared at me. Then he began walking toward me across the street in heavy-villain steps, glaring all the time. He stopped just in front of me, his face twitching with rage, evidently ready to do something cataclysmic. Then the heavens opened, and a tremendous roar came from across the street. The officer to whom the car belonged had seen the display of temper from his window, and had run out to express his views. The soldier did a Genée toe-spin and stood at attention, while his superior cursed him in the most stupendous way. I was glad to be saved and to have such a display of fireworks into the bargain.
November 19th.—One day is like another in its cussedness.
The Germans have been hounding the British Legation and Consulate, and we have had to get excited about it. Then they announced to the Dutch Chargé that our courier could no longer go—that everything would have to be sent by German field post. You would think that after the amount of hard work we have done for the protection of German interests and the scrupulous way in which we have used any privileges we have been accorded, they would exert themselves to make our task as easy as possible and show us some confidence. On the contrary, they treat us as we would be ashamed to treat our enemies.
This morning it was snowing beautifully when I woke up, a light, dry snow that lay on the ground. It has been coming down gently all day and the town is a lovely sight, but I can't get out of my mind the thought of those poor beggars out in the trenches. It seems wicked to be comfortable before a good fire with those millions of men suffering as they are out at the front.
And now Grant-Watson[9]has been put in prison. He stayed on here after the Minister left, to attend to various matters, and was here when the Germans arrived. Recently we have been trying to arrange for passports, so that he and Felix Jeffes, the Vice-Consul, might return to England. The authorities were seemingly unable to make up their minds as to what should be done, but assured the Minister that both men would be allowed to return to England or to remain quietly in Brussels. On Friday, however, the Germans changed their minds and did not let a little thing like their word of honour stand in the way.
The Minister was asked to bring Grant-Watson to headquarters to talk things over—nothing more. When they got there, it was smilingly announced that Grant-Watson was to leave for Berlin on the seven o'clock train, which put us in the position of having lured him to prison. The Minister protested vigorously, and finally Grant-Watson was put on parole and allowed to return to the Legation, to remain there until eleven o'clock yesterday morning. I went over the first thing in the morning to help him get ready for his stay in jail. At eleven Conrad arrived in a motor with Monsieur de Leval. We went out and got in, and drove in state to the École Militaire, and, although I was boiling with rage at the entire performance, I could not help seeing some fun in it.
Grant-Watson's butler was ordered to be ready to go at the same time. At the last minute the butler came down and said perfectly seriously that he would not be able to go until afternoon, as he had broken the key to his portmanteau and would have to have another made. The Germans did not see anything funny in that, and left him behind.
When we got to the École Militaire, we were refused admittance, and had to wrangle with the sentries at the door. After arguing with several officers and pleading that we had a man with us who wanted to be put in prison, we were reluctantly admitted to the outer gate of the building, where British subjects are kept. When the keeper of the dungeon came out, I explained to him that the butler had been detained, but would be along in the course of the afternoon, whereupon the solemn jailer earnestly replied, "Please tell him that he must be here not later than three o'clock, or he can't get in!" And nobody cracked a smile until I let my feelings get the better of me.
I was prepared for an affecting parting with Grant-Watson in consigning him to the depths of a German jail, but he took it as calmly as though he were going into a country house for a week-end party. I suppose there is some chance that they may exchange him for a few wounded German officers and thus get him back to England.
Since our snow-storm the other day, the weather has turned terribly cold and we have suffered even with all the comforts that we have. And the cheerful weather prophets are telling us that without doubt this will be one of the coldest winters ever known. A pleasant prospect for the boys at the front! Mrs. Whitlock and everybody else is busy getting warm clothing for the poor and for the refugees from all parts of Belgium who were unable to save anything from their ruined homes. It is bad enough now, but what is coming....
Gustave has just come in with the cheering news that Ashley, our crack stenographer, has been arrested by the Germans. They are making themselves altogether charming and agreeable to us.
Max is spread out before the fire, snoring like a sawmill—the only Englishman in Brussels who is easy in his mind and need not worry.
Tuesday, November 24th.—Another day of rush without getting very far.
The Germans decided this morning that they would arrest Felix Jeffes, the British Vice-Consul, so I had the pleasant task of telling him that he was wanted. I am to go for him to-morrow morning and take him to the École Militaire with his compatriots. This job of policeman does not appeal to me, even if it is solely to save our friends the humiliation of being taken through the streets by the Germans.
November 25th.—Had apleasantday.
Had arrangements made with Jeffes to go with him to the École Militaire at 11 o'clock and turn him over to his jailer. The Minister went up with von der Lancken to see the Englishmen and be there when Jeffes arrived, so as to show a friendly interest in his being well treated.
I went around to the Consulate on time, and found that, through a misunderstanding, Jeffes had made no preparations for going, having been assured that another attempt would be made to get him off. I pointed out that the Minister had given his word of honour that Jeffes should be there, and that he would be left in a very unpleasant and annoying position if we did not turn up as promised. Jeffes was perfectly ready, although not willing to go. I went to the École Militaire and explained to von der Lancken that Jeffes' failure to appear was due to a mistake, and asked that he be given time to straighten out his accounts and come later in the day or to-morrow morning. The answer was that he must come some time during the day. The Consul-General went straight to von Lüttwitz with Jeffes, made a great plea on the score of his health or lack of it, and got his time extended until he could be given a medical examination by the military authorities. Late in the afternoon he was looked over and told to go home and be quiet, that he would probably not be wanted, but that if anything came up, they would communicate with him further.
Brussels, November 27, 1914.—More busy days. Each day we swear that we will stop work early and go out to play. Each day we sit at our desks, and darkness comes down upon us, and we do not get away until nearly eight o'clock. "Thanksgiving Day" was no exception, and to-day we are going through the same old performance. Yesterday, by strenuous work, I got down to swept bunkers and had a good prospect of an easy day. Instead of that there has been a deluge of Consuls, mail, telegrams, and excited callers, and we are snowed under a heap of work it will take several days to get out of the way.
We came back to them with a bump, however, when Nasmith came to my flat at midnight to say that Jeffes had been arrested. And it was done in the usual charming manner. In the course of the afternoon, the Consul-General got a note asking him to go to headquarters "to talk over the case of Mr. Jeffes." It asked also that Jeffes accompany the Consul-General "to the conference." When they arrived it was announced that Jeffes was under arrest and to be sent immediately to the École Militaire. The Consul-General, like the Minister, on the occasion of his visit, was placed in the position of having lured his friend into jail. He protested vigorously, but was not even allowed to accompany Jeffes to the École Militaire. It was only after some heated argument that Jeffes was allowed five minutes at home, under guard, to get a few belongings together to take with him. The Consul-General is furious, and so am I when I remember how decently the German Vice-Consul here was treated when the war broke out.
Early in the week Jack is to be sent down to Mons, to bring out some English nurses who have been there nursing the British wounded. Two of them, Miss Hozier and Miss Angela Manners, were in yesterday. They have been working hard during the past three months and are now ready to go back to England if we can arrange for passports.
Under the date of November 26th, General von Kraewel announces that he has succeeded Baron von Lüttwitz, who has been transferred to the army at the front.
Hoover arrived from London this afternoon accompanied by Shaler and by Dr. Rose, Henry James, Jr., and Mr. Bicknell of the Rockefeller Foundation, who have come to look into conditions. There is plenty for them to see, and we shall do our best to help them see it.
As we learned from a confidential source, several days ago, there has been a big shake-up in the Government here. Both von der Goltz and von Lüttwitz have gone and have been replaced—the first by Freiherr von Bissing, and the latter by General von Kraewel. There are several explanations for the changes, but we don't yet know what they mean.
Brussels, December 2, 1914.—We have had a hectic time. Hoover arrived on Sunday evening, accompanied by Shaler and by three representatives of the Rockefeller Foundation. We have had a steady rush of meetings, conferences, etc., and Hoover and Shaler pulled out early this morning. There is not much relief in sight, however, for to-morrow morning at the crack of dawn, I expect to start off on a tour of Belgium, to show the Rockefeller people what conditions really are. We shall be gone for several days and shall cover pretty well the whole country.
Yesterday morning I got Jack off to Mons to bring back the British nurses. Everything in the way of passports and arrangements with the military authorities had been made, and he went away in high spirits for a little jaunt by himself. This morning at half-past three o'clock he rang the doorbell and came bristling in, the maddest man I have seen in a long time. He had suffered everything that could be thought of in the way of insult and indignity, and to make it worse, had been obliged to stand by and watch some brutes insult the girls he was sent down to protect. When he arrived at Mons he got the nurses together and took them to the headquarters, where he explained that he had been sent down by the Minister with the consent of the German authorities, to bring the nurses to Brussels. This was stated in writing on the passport given him by the German authorities here. Instead of the polite reception he had expected, the German officer, acting for the Commandant, turned on him and told him that the nurses were to be arrested, and could not go to Brussels. Then, by way of afterthought, he decided to arrest Jack and had him placed under guard on a long bench in the headquarters, where he was kept for three hours. Luckily, an old gentleman of the town who knew the nurses, came in on some errand, and before they could be shut up, they contrived to tell him what the situation was and ask him to get word to the Legation. Right away after this the three women were taken out and put in the fourth-class cells of the military prison, that is, in the same rooms with common criminals. Jack was left in the guard room. The old gentleman, who had come in, rushed off to the Burgomaster and got him stirred up about the case, although he was loath to do anything, as heknewthat a representative of the American Legation could not be arrested. Finally he did come around to headquarters, and after a long row with the Adjutant, they got Jack released and fitted out with alaisser-passerto return to Brussels. He was insulted in good shape, and told that if he came back again, sent by the Minister or by anybody else, he would be chucked into jail and stay there. Before the nurses were taken down to their prison, the Adjutant shook his fist in Miss Hozier's face, and told her that they were going to give her a good lesson, so that the English should have a taste of the sort of treatment they were meting out to German nurses and doctors that fell into their hands.
The Mayor and Aldermen took Jack in charge when he was released, and kept him in one of their homes until time for the train to leave for Brussels at midnight. They were convinced that he would be arrested again at the station, but he did get off in a car filled with sick soldiers and arrived here without mishap at three o'clock or a little after.
I went over to see von der Lancken the first thing in the morning, and told him the whole story, in order that he might be thinking over what he was going to do about it before the Minister went over to see him at eleven. The Minister said his say in plain language, and got a promise that steps would be taken at once to get the girls out of prison and have them brought to Brussels. Later in the day von der Lancken came through with the information that the action of the authorities at Mons was "due to a misunderstanding," and that everything was lovely now. We suppose that the girls will be here to-morrow; if not, inquiries will be made and the Minister will probably go down himself.
Yesterday morning we spent visiting soup kitchens, milk stations, and the distributing centres for supplying old clothes to the poor. The whole thing is under one organisation and most wonderfully handled. It is probably the biggest thing of the sort that has ever been undertaken and is being done magnificently.
It is a curious thing to watch the Commission grow. It started as nothing but a group of American mining engineers, with the sympathetic aid of some of our diplomatic representatives and the good-will of the neutral world. It is rapidly growing into a powerful international entity, negotiating agreements with the Great Powers of Europe, enjoying rights that no Government enjoys, and as the warring governments come to understand its sincerity and honesty, gaining influence and authority day by day.
There is no explanation of the departure of von der Goltz. His successor has come out with a proclamation in three lines, as follows:
His Majesty, the Emperor and King, having deigned to appointme Governor-General in Belgium, I have to-day assumed thedirection of affairs.Baron von Bissing.Brussels, December 3, 1914.
His Majesty, the Emperor and King, having deigned to appointme Governor-General in Belgium, I have to-day assumed thedirection of affairs.
Baron von Bissing.
Brussels, December 3, 1914.
Brussels, Sunday, December 6, 1914.—We got away at eight o'clock on Thursday morning, in three cars from the Palace Hotel. We were four cars when we started, but fifty feet from the door the leading car broke down and could not be started, so we rearranged ourselves and left the wreck behind. The party was composed of the three Rockefeller representatives, Dr. Rose, Mr. Bicknell, and Henry James, Jr., Monsieur Francqui, Josse Allard, Jack and I.
It was rainy and cold, but we made good time to Louvain and stopped at the Hôtel de Ville. Professor Neerincxs, of the University, took up the duties of Burgomaster when the Germans shipped the real one away. He speaks perfect English, and led the crowd around the town with the rush and energy of a Cook's tourist agent. He took us first through the Cathedral, and showed us in detail things that we could not have seen if we had gone at it alone. Then around to the library and some of the other sights of particular interest, and finally for a spin through the city, to see the damage to the residence district. This was a most interesting beginning, and made a good deal of an impression on our people. They asked questions about the work being done by the people toward cleaning up the ruins of the town and trying to arrange make-shift shelters to live in during the winter. The Mayor is a man of real force of character, and has accomplished marvels under the greatest difficulties.
From Louvain we cut away to the northeast to Aerschot, where we took a quick look at the welter of ruin and struck out to the west through Diest and Haelen, which I saw on my first trip with Frederick Palmer before there was anything done to them.
We got to Liège about one o'clock and had lunch in a restaurant downtown, where we were joined by Jackson, our delegate sent down there to supervise the distribution of food for the Commission. He told us a lot about the difficulties and incidents of his work, and some details of which we had to think. He is the first delegate we have sent to outlying cities, and is up on his toes with interest. A lot more have already sailed from New York, and will soon be here. They are to be spread all over the country in the principal centres, some to stay in the big cities and watch local conditions, and others to travel about their districts and keep track of the needs of the different villages. It is all working out a lot better than we had hoped for, and we have good reason to be pleased. Our chief annoyance is that every time things get into a comfortable state, some idiot starts the story either in England or America that the Germans have begun to seize foodstuffs consigned to us. Then we have to issue statements and get off telegrams, and get renewed assurances from the German authorities and make ourselves a general nuisance to everybody concerned. If we can choke off such idiots, our work will be a lot easier.
The Burgomaster came into the restaurant to find us, and offered to go on with us to Visé, to show us the town, and we were glad to have him, as he knows the place like the palm of his hand.
I had been through Visé twice, and had marvelled at the completeness of the destruction, but had really had no idea of what it was. It was a town of about forty-five hundred souls, built on the side of a pretty hill overlooking the Meuse. There are only two or three houses left. We saw one old man, two children and a cat in the place. Where the others are, nobody knows. The old man was well over sixty, and had that afternoon been put off a train from Germany, where he had been as a prisoner of war since the middle of August. He hadKriegsgefangener Munsterstencilled on his coat, front and back, so that there could be no doubt as to who he was. He was standing in the street with the tears rolling down his cheeks and did not know where to go; he had spent the day wandering about the neighbouring villages trying to find news of his wife, and had just learned that she had died a month or more ago. It was getting dark, and to see this poor old chap standing in the midst of this welter of ruin without a chick or child or place to lay his head.... It caught our companions hard, and they loaded the old man up with bank-notes, which was about all that anybody could do for him and then we went our way. We wandered through street after street of ruined houses, sometimes whole blocks together where there were not enough walls left to make even temporary shelters.
Near the station we were shown a shallow grave dug just in front of a house. We were told who filled the grave—an old chap of over sixty. He had been made to dig his own grave, and then was tied to a young tree and shot. The bullets cut the tree in two just a little above the height of his waist, and the low wall behind was full of bullet holes.
As nearly as we can learn, the Germans appear to have come through the town on their way toward Liège. Nothing was supposed to have happened then, but on the 15th, 16th and 17th, troops came back from Liège and systematically reduced the place to ruins and dispersed the population. It was clear that the fires were all set, and there were no evidence of street fighting. It is said that some two hundred civilians were shot, and seven hundred men bundled aboard trains and sent back to Germany as prisoners of war—harmless people like the old chap we saw.
Von Bulow's greeting to the people of LiègeVon Bulow's greeting to the people of Liège[e]
Von Bulow's greeting to the people of Liège[e]
How the simple pleasures of the German soldier were restricted.How the simple pleasures of the German soldier were restricted.[f]
How the simple pleasures of the German soldier were restricted.[f]
The Burgomaster set out on foot to walk back three kilometers and catch a tram to Liège, and we went southeast to Dalhem, where we spent the night at the Château de Dalhem, on a hill overlooking the picturesque little village snuggled in the bottom of the valley. It was off the main line of march, and had not suffered. The château belongs to General Thyss, who was a great friend of the late King Leopold. He was not there, but the place was being protected by a splendid old dragon in the shape of a German governess who had been with the family for over thirty years, and refused to leave when the war broke out. She had been obliged to lodge a crowd of German officers and some of their men, but held them down with an iron hand, kept them from doing any damage and made them pay for every egg and every bottle of wine they had. We arrived after dark and threw the place into a panic of fear, but Monsieur Francqui soon reassured everybody, and the place was lighted up and placed at our disposal in short order.
Although it was pitch dark when we arrived, it was only half past four and we set out on foot to stretch a little. The moon came out and lighted our way through the country roads. We tramped for a couple of hours through all sorts of little towns and villages and groups of houses, some of them wiped out and some hardly touched.
General Thyss's cellars are famous, and with our dinner of soup and bacon and eggs, we had some of the finest Burgundy I have ever tasted. Early to bed so that we could be up and off at daybreak.
Friday morning we were away early, and made for Herve, where I had never been before. It is a ruin with a few natives and a lot of Landsturm left. We talked to some peasants and to an old priest who gave us something to think about in their stories of happenings there during and after the occupation of their homes. From there to Liège, by way of a lot of little villages whose names I don't remember, but whose condition was pretty bad, past the fort of Fléron and the defensive works that are being put up there.
Wasted some time trying to get gasoline for the other motors, and then the long stretch to Namur, down the valley of the Meuse, and stopped long enough for a look at Andennes, my second visit to the place.
In Andenne and Seilles (a little village across the Meuse) the Germans did a thorough job. They killed about three hundred people and burned about the same number of houses. Most of the houses had been looted systematically. According to the stories of those inhabitants who remain, there was a reign of terror for about a week, during which the Germans rendered themselves guilty of every sort of atrocity and barbarity. They are all most positive that there was no firing upon the German troops by the civil population. It seems to be generally believed that the massacre was due to resistance of retiring Belgian troops and the destruction of bridges and tunnels to cover their retreat. Whatever the provocation, the behaviour of the Germans was that of savages. We were shown photographs showing the corpses of some of those killed. It was to be inferred that they had been wantonly mutilated.
Had lunch at an hotel across the street from the station. After a hasty lunch we made off to Dinant, still following the Meuse. The thin line of houses down the course of the river were thinner than they were a few months ago, and there were signs of suffering and distress everywhere. I had never been to Dinant before, but had seen pictures of it and thought I had an idea of what we were going to see. But the pictures did not give a hint of the horror of the place. The little town, which must have been a gem, nestled at the foot of a huge gray cliff, crowned with the obsolete fort, which was not used or attacked. The town isgone. Part of the church is standing, and the walls of a number of buildings, but for the most part, there is nothing but a mess of scattered bricks to show where the houses had stood. And why it was done, we were not able to learn, for everybody there says that there was no fighting in the town itself. We heard stories, too, and such stories that they can hardly be put on paper. Our three guests were more and more impressed as we went on. The bridge was blown up and had fallen into the river, and as we had little time to make the rest of our day's journey, we did not wait to cross by the emergency bridge farther up the river. While we were standing talking to a schoolmaster and his father by the destroyed bridge, seven big huskies with rifles and fixed bayonets came through, leading an old man and a woman who had been found with a camera in their possession. At first there was no objection raised to the taking of photographs, but now our friends are getting a little touchy about it, and lock up anybody silly enough to get caught with kodaks or cameras.
According to what we were told, the Germans entered the town from the direction of Ciney, on the evening of August 21st, and began firing into the windows of the houses. The Germans admit this, but say that there were French troops in the town and this was the only way they could get them out. A few people were killed, but there was nothing that evening in the nature of a general massacre. Although the next day was comparatively quiet, a good part of the population took refuge in the surrounding hills.
On Sunday morning, the 23rd, the German troops set out to pillage and shoot. They drove the people into the street, and set fire to their houses. Those who tried to run away were shot down in their tracks. The congregation was taken from the church, and fifty of the men were shot. All the civilians who could be rounded up were driven into the big square and kept there until evening. About six o'clock the women were lined up on one side of the square and kept in line by soldiers. On the other side, the men were lined up along a wall, in two rows, the first kneeling. Then, under command of an officer, two volleys were fired into them. The dead and wounded were left together until the Germans got round to burying them, when practically all were dead. This was only one of several wholesale executions. The Germans do not seem to contradict the essential facts, but merely put forward the plea that most of the damage was incidental to the fighting which took place between the armed forces. Altogether more than eight hundred people were killed. Six hundred and twelve have been identified and given burial. Others were not recognisable. I have one of the lists which are still to be had, although the Germans have ordered all copies returned to them. Those killed ranged in age from Félix Fivet, aged three weeks, to an old woman named Jadot, who was eighty. But then Félix probably fired on the German troops.
Announcement by Field-Marshal von der Goltz[g]
Announcement by Field-Marshal von der Goltz[g]
There is no end to the stories of individual atrocities. One is that Monsieur Wasseige, director of one of the banks, was seized by the Germans, who demanded that he should open the safes. He flatly refused to do this, even under threat of death. Finally he was led with his two eldest sons to the Place d'Armes and placed with more than one hundred others, who were then killed with machine guns. Monsieur Wasseige's three youngest children were brought to the spot by German soldiers, and compelled to witness the murder of their father and two brothers.
From Dinant we struck across country through Phillipeville and some little by-roads to Rance, where we were expected at the house of G. D——. He and his wife and their little girl of five had just returned that morning to receive us, but the place was brightly lighted and as completely prepared as though they had been there all the time. It was a lovely old place, and we were soon made comfortable. German officers have occupied it most of the time, and it required a good deal of cleaning and repairing after they left, but fortunately this work had just been completed, and we had a chance to enjoy the place before any more enforced guests appeared. One of the Imperial princelings had been there for one night, and his name was chalked on the door of his room. He had beentrès aimable, and when he left had taken D——'s motor with him.
We took a tramp around the town in a biting wind, and looked at some of the houses of our neighbours. Some of them were almost wrecked after having served as quarters for troops for varying periods. From others all the furniture had been taken away and shipped back to Germany. One man showed us a card which he had found in the frame of one of his best pictures. It was the card of a German officer, and under the name was written an order to send the picture to a certain address in Berlin. The picture was gone, but the frame and card were still there and are being kept against the day of reckoning—if any. We were shown several little safes which had been pried open and looted, and were told the usual set of stories of what had happened when the army went through. Some of the things would be hard to believe if one did not hear them from the lips of people who are reliable and who live in such widely separated parts of the country at a time when communications are almost impossible.
We had a good and ingeniously arranged dinner. All sorts of ordinary foods are not to be had in this part of the country, and our hostess had, by able thinking, arranged a meal which skillfully concealed the things that were lacking. Among other things, I observed that we had a series of most delicious wines—for our host of that evening also had a wonderful cellar. They had told us just before dinner that the Germans had taken an inventory of their wines and had forbidden them to touch another drop, so I wondered whether they were not incurring some risk in order to give us the wine that they considered indispensable. When I asked our hostess, she told me that it was very simple, that all they needed to do was to drink a part of several bottles, refill them partially with water, seal them, and put them back in the cellars; she said scornfully that "les Bochesdon't know one wine from another," and had not yet been able to detect the fraud. They had a lot of cheap champagne in the cellar and had been filling them up with that, as they prefer any champagne to the best vintage Burgundies. Once in a while there is a little satisfaction reserved for a Belgian.
We were called at daybreak and were on the road at eight o'clock, taking in a series of small villages which had been destroyed, and talking with the few people to be found about the place. This part of Belgium is far worse than the northern part, where the people can get away with comparative ease to one of the larger towns and come back now and then to look after their crops. Here one village after another is wiped out, and the peasants have no place to go unless they travel so far that there is no hope of returning, perhaps for months together. It will be a great problem to provide shelter for these people so that they can return.
We cut through Beaumont, and then took the main road to Mons, where we arrived in the middle of the morning. On the way we had heard that the English nurses had not yet been released, so I made for the military headquarters and saw the commandant. It was evident that they had been hauled over the coals for the way they had behaved when Jack was there, for I never saw such politeness in any headquarters. I was preceded by bowing and unctuous soldiers and non-commissioned officers, all the way from the door to the Presence, and was received by the old man standing. He was most solicitous for my comfort and offered me everything but the freedom of the city. He said that he had not received a word of instructions until a few minutes before my arrival, but that he was now able to give the young ladies their liberty and turn them over to me. In order to get them, I was prayed to go over to the headquarters of the military governor of the Province, and an officer was assigned to accompany me. While we were there, the officer who had been so insulting to Jack and to Miss Hozier came into the room, took one look at us, and scuttled for safety. We heard afterward that he had been ordered to apologise for his behaviour.
At the door of the Provincial headquarters I found another car flying the Legation flag, and Monsieur de Leval came charging out into my arms. There had been a pretty hot time about the nurses and he had finally been sent down to get them out. In a few minutes we had them sitting on a bench in the Governor's office, while Kracker, who used to be one of the Secretaries of the German Legation here, was making out theirlaisser-passersto come to Brussels. They were a happy crowd, but pretty well done up by the treatment they had had.
When they were all fixed I went in and asked for the release of Miss Bradford, another English nurse, who had been in prison in Mons and Charleroi for the past five weeks. I learned of her imprisonment almost by accident while we were waiting for the passports. After some argument it was granted, and I went with a soldier to the prison to get her out. I had not expected to find anything very luxurious, but I was shocked when I saw the place. It was the most severe, repressive penitentiary in the country—still filled with common criminals—and the English nurse was given the same treatment and rations as the worst murderer of the lot. There was the usual row with the man in charge of the place, and finally a soldier was despatched, to tell the young woman she could get ready to go. While she was getting ready, the director of the prison took me around and showed me with great pride things that made me shiver. He said, however, that it was an outrage to put a woman in such a place. The prisoners who do the work of the prison were going about the corridors under guard, each one wearing a dirty brown mask covering his entire head, and with only the smallest of slits for his eyes. They are never allowed to see each other's faces or to speak to one another. I was taken up to the chapel, where each man is herded into a little box like a confessional and locked in so that he cannot see his neighbour, and can only look up toward the raised altar in the centre, where he can see the priest. The school was arranged in the same way, and was shown with equal pride. I fear the jailer thought me lacking in appreciation.
I finally got the young woman out, nearly hysterical, and took her up to the headquarters, and from there to the hotel, where Monsieur de Leval had gathered his charges for luncheon. They were rapidly recovering their old-time spirits, and were chattering away like a lot of magpies.
While I was fussing about with them, I had sent my friends and fellow-travellers ahead, and now left the flock of nurses in the hands of Monsieur de Leval, to be conveyed by tram back to Brussels, while I tried to catch up with my party at the château of Monsieur Warroqué, at Mariemont. I made as much speed as my little car was capable of, but it was nearly two o'clock when I arrived.
The old château of Mariemont is one of those built by Louis XIV, when he set out to have one for each month of the year. This was his place for August. It had been destroyed, and the new one is built near the ruins, but the large park is as it has been for a long time, and a lovely place it is. There were about twenty at table when we arrived, and places were ready for us. More fine wines, and this time to show that we were in the house of a connoisseur, the flunky, in pouring out the precious stuff, would whisper in your ear the name and vintage. Warroqué owns a lot of the coal mines and other properties and is apparently greatly loved by the people. When the Germans came, they seized him as a hostage, but the people became so threatening that he was released. How many men in his position could have counted on that much devotion?
Immediately after luncheon we shoved off and made through the rain for Charleroi, where we took a look at the damage done to the town. It was already dark and we then turned toward Brussels and burned up the road, getting to the Legation at half-past six, to find all the nurses sitting up, having tea with Mrs. Whitlock and the Minister.
Brussels, December 10, 1914—Yesterday afternoon we received the call of General Freiherr von Bissing, Governor General in Belgium, and of General Freiherr von Kraewel, Military Governor of Brussels. They were accompanied by their suites in full regalia. The military men were most affable, but we did not get any farther than tea and cigarettes. They talked mournfully of the war and said they wished to goodness the whole thing was over. It was a great contrast to the cock-sure talk at the beginning of the war. Von Bissing said that there were hospitals in every village in Germany and that they were all filled with wounded. It is becoming clearer every day that the Germans, as well as others, are getting thoroughly sick and tired of the whole business and would give a lot to end it.
A little while ago theLondon Timescost as high as two hundred francs. It has been going down steadily, until it can be had now for four francs and sometimes for as little as two. The penalties are very severe, but the supply keeps up, although the blockade runners are being picked up every day.
Brussels, December 11, 1914.—This afternoon late B—— brought an uncle to see me, to talk about conditions in France between the Belgian frontier and the German lines. Those poor people cannot, of course, get anything from the heart of France, and as the Belgian frontier is closed tight by the Germans, they are already starving. It looks very much as though we should have to extend the scope of our work, so as to look after them, too. We hear very little news from that part of the country, but from what we do hear, conditions must be frightful. In one little town Mr. K—— came through, only twenty out of five hundred houses are said to be standing. He says that the people are not permitted to leave the place and are living in the cellars and ruins in great misery and practically without food.
Out of a clear sky comes a new trouble for the country. The German Government has come down with a demand for money on a scale that leaves them speechless. The Belgians are ordered to make a forced payment each month of forty millions of francs, for twelve months. The two first payments are to be made by the 15th of next month, and the subsequent installments on the 10th of succeeding months. It is a staggering total, but the German authorities are deaf to appeals, and the Provinces will have to get together and raise the money in some way.