TO CIVILIANSThe Minister of the Interior advises civilians, in case the enemy should show himself in their district:Not to fight;To utter no insulting or threatening words;To remain within their houses and close the windows, so that it will be impossible to allege that there has been any provocation;To evacuate any houses or small village which may be occupied by soldiers in order to defend themselves, so that it cannot be alleged that civilians have fired;An act of violence committed by a single civilian would be a crime for which the law provides arrest and punishment. It is all the more reprehensible in that it might serve as a pretext for measures of repression resulting in bloodshed and pillage or the massacre of the innocent population with women and children.
TO CIVILIANS
The Minister of the Interior advises civilians, in case the enemy should show himself in their district:
Not to fight;
To utter no insulting or threatening words;
To remain within their houses and close the windows, so that it will be impossible to allege that there has been any provocation;
To evacuate any houses or small village which may be occupied by soldiers in order to defend themselves, so that it cannot be alleged that civilians have fired;
An act of violence committed by a single civilian would be a crime for which the law provides arrest and punishment. It is all the more reprehensible in that it might serve as a pretext for measures of repression resulting in bloodshed and pillage or the massacre of the innocent population with women and children.
In the course of the afternoon we got our telegrams telling of the appropriation by Congress of two and a half millions for the relief of Americans in Europe, and the despatch of theTennesseewith the money on board. Now all hands want some of the money and a cabin on theTennesseeto go home in.
——, the Wheat King, came into the Legation this morning and was very grateful because we contrived to cash out of our own pockets a twenty-dollar express check for him. He was flat broke with his pocket bulging with checks and was living in apensionat six francs a day. There is going to be a lot of discomfort and suffering unless some money is made available pretty soon. The worst of it is that this is the height of the tourist season and Europe is full of school-teachers and other people who came over for short trips with meager resources carefully calculated to get them through their traveling and home again by a certain date. If they are kept long they are going to be in a bad way. One of our American colony here, Heineman, had a goodly store of currency and had placed it at the disposal of the Legation, to be used in cashing at face value travelers' checks and other similar paper which bankers will not touch now with a pair of tongs. Shaler has taken charge of that end of the business and has all the customers he can handle. Heineman will have to bide his time to get any money back on all his collection of paper, and his contribution has meant a lot to people who will never know who helped them.
Her Majesty, Elisabeth, Queen of the Belgians
Mr. Brand Whitlock, American Minister to Belgium
Photograph by Underwood & UnderwoodHer Majesty, Elisabeth, Queen of the Belgians
Mr. Brand Whitlock, American Minister to Belgium
There was a meeting of the diplomatic corps last night to discuss the question of moving with the Court to Antwerp in certain eventualities. It is not expected that the Government will move unless and until the Germans get through Liège and close enough to threaten Louvain, which is only a few miles out of Brussels. There was no unanimous decision on the subject, but if the Court goes, the Minister and I will probably take turns going up, so as to keep in communication with the Government. There is not much we can accomplish there, and we have so much to do here that it will be hard for either of us to get away. It appeals to some of the colleagues to take refuge with a Court in distress, but I can see little attraction in the idea of settling down inside the line of forts and waiting for them to be pounded with heavy artillery.
Liège seems to be holding out still. The Belgians have astonished everybody, themselves included. It was generally believed even here that the most they could do was to make a futile resistance and get slaughtered in a foolhardy attempt to defend their territory against invasion. They have, however, held off a powerful German attack for three or four days. It is altogether marvelous. All papers have the head lines: "Les forts tiennent toujours."
In the course of the afternoon we arranged definitely that at three o'clock this morning there should be ample train accommodations ready at the Gare du Nord to get our Germans out of the country. Nasmith and I are to go down and observe the entire proceedings, so that we can give an authoritative report afterward.
There is a German-American girl married to a German who lives across the street from me. I sent her word to-day that she and her husband and little boy had better get away while there was a way open. Last evening while we were at dinner at the Legation the three of them arrived in a panic. They had heard that there was a mob of ten thousand people about the German Consulate about to break in and kill every German in the place. Of course they could not be persuaded to go near the Consulate or any of the other refuges. They wanted to settle down and stay at the Legation. As the Minister was on his way out to the meeting of the corps, the woman waylaid him, had got down on her knees and kissed his hand and groveled and had hysterics. He called for me and we got them quieted down. I finally agreed to go down to the Consulate and take a look so as to reassure them.
When I got there I found that the streets had been barred off by the military for two blocks in every direction, and that there was only a small crowd gathered to see what might happen. About as hostile as a lot of children. I got through the line of troops and in front of the Consulate found several hundreds of the refugees who had been brought out to be marched to the Cirque Royale, where they could be more comfortably lodged until it was time to start for the train. They were surrounded by placid Gardes Civiques and were all frightened to death. They had had nothing to do for days but talk over the terrible fate that awaited them if the bloodthirsty population of Brussels ever got at them; the stories had grown so that the crowd had hypnotised itself and was ready to credit any yarn. The authorities showed the greatest consideration they could under their orders. They got the crowd started and soon had them stowed away inside the Cirque Royale, an indoor circus near the Consulate. Once they got inside, a lot of them gave way to their feelings and began to weep and wail in a way that bade fair to set off the entire crowd. One of the officers came out to where I was and begged me to come in and try my hand at quieting them. I climbed up on a trunk and delivered an eloquent address to the effect that nobody had any designs on them; that the whole interest of the Belgian Government lay in getting them safely across the frontier; called their attention to the way the Garde Civique was working to make them comfortable, and to reassure them, promised that I would go with them to the station, put them on their trains, and see them safely off for the frontier. That particular crowd cheered up somewhat, but I could not get near enough to be heard by the entire outfit at one time, so one of the officers dragged me around from one part of the building to another until I had harangued the entire crowd on the instalment plan. They all knew that we were charged with their interests, and there was nearly a riot when I wanted to leave. They expected me to stay right there until they were taken away.
I came back to the Legation and told my people that the way was clear and that they had nothing to worry about. Mrs. Whitlock and Miss Larner had taken the family in hand, were petting the baby boy, and had them all cheered up to a sensible state of mind. I got them into the motor and whisked them down to the lines that were drawn about the block. Here we were stopped and, sooner than undertake a joint debate with the sentry, I was for descending and going the rest of the way on foot. When a few of the idly curious gathered about the car, the woman nearly had a fit and scrambled back into the car almost in spasms. Of course the scene drew some more people and we soon had a considerable crowd. I gathered up the boy—who was a beauty and not at all afraid—and took him out of the car. There was in the front rank an enormous Belgian with a fiercely bristling beard. He looked like a sane sort, so I said to him: "Expliquez à ces gens que vous n'êtes pas des ogres pour croquer les enfants." He growled out affably: "Mais non, on ne mange pas les enfants, ni leurs mères," and gathered up the baby and passed him about for the others to look at. My passengers then decided that they were not in such mortal danger and consented to get out. An officer I knew came along and offered to escort them inside. On the way in I ran into Madame Carton de Wiart, wife of the Minister of Justice, who was there to do what she could to make things run smoothly. She is rabid about the Germans, but is not for taking it out on these helpless people. And that seems to be the spirit of everybody, although it would be quite understandable if they showed these people some of their resentment. The Gardes were bestirring themselves to look after their charges. Some of them had contributed their pocket money and had bought chocolate and milk for the children and mineral waters and other odds and ends for those that needed them. And some of them are not very sure as to how long they will have pocket money for themselves. Aside from the fright and the heat and the noise of that crowd in the Cirque, it was all pretty depressing. During the night one old man died—probably from fright and shock—and a child was born. It was altogether a night of horror that could perfectly well have been avoided if people had only been able to keep calm and stay at home until time for the train to leave.
Having settled my charges and taken a look round, I went back to the Legation and got off some telegrams and talked with Bell over the telephone. He had a lot of news that we had not received and many errands to be done for people who had friends and relatives here.
A little after midnight friend Nasmith came along and we set out together for our rounds. We first took a look at one or two places and then went to my diggings for a sandwich and such rest as we could get before time to start on our round-up. Soon after midnight, Fortescue came rolling up in a cab looking for a place to lay his head. He had just come in from Liège, where he had had a close view of yesterday morning's heavy fighting. He said the Germans were pouring men in between the forts in solid formation, and that these sheep were being mown down by the Belgians heavily intrenched between the forts. The Germans are apparently determined to get some of their men through between the forts and are willing to pay the price, whatever it may be. To-day we hear that the Germans have asked for an armistice of twenty-four hours to bury their dead.
After we had hung upon his words as long as he could keep going, Nasmith and I got under way to look after our exodus. The Garde was keeping order at all places where there were refugees, and I was easy in my mind about that; my only worry was as to what might happen when we got our people out into the streets. Promptly at three o'clock we began to march them out of the Cirque. The hour was carefully chosen as the one when there were the least possible people in the streets; the evening crowds would have gone home and the early market crowd would hardly have arrived. A heavy guard was thrown around the people as they came out of the building and they were marched quickly and quietly down back streets to the Gare du Nord. I never saw such a body of people handled so quickly and yet without confusion. In the station four trains were drawn up side by side; as the stream of people began pouring into the station, it was directed to the first platform and the train was filled in a few minutes. At just the right moment the stream was deflected to the next platform, and so on until all four trains were filled. After starting the crowd into the station and seeing that there was going to be no trouble, I set off with an officer of the Garde Civique to see about other parties coming from some of the convents. They had not waited for us, but were already moving, so that when we got back to the station they tacked onto the end of the first party and kept the stream flowing.
As fast as the trains were filled, the signal was given and they pulled out silently. I stood behind some of the Garde Civique and watched the crowd pour in. The Gardes did not know who I was aside from the fact that my presence seemed to be countenanced by their officers, and so I overheard what they had to say. They were a decent lot and kept saying:Mais c'est malheureux tout de même! Regardez donc ces pauvres gens. Ce n'est pas de leur faute, and a lot more of that sort of thing.
It takes a pretty fine spirit to be able to treat the enemy that way. A lot of people in the passing crowd spotted me and stopped to say good-bye or called out as they went by. It was pathetic to see how grateful they were for the least kind word. I never saw such a pitiful crowd in my life and hope I never may again. They hurried along, looking furtively to right and left with the look of a rat that is in fear of his life. I have seldom pitied people more, for that sort of fear must be the most frightful there is—simple fear of physical violence.
It was remarkable to see the different classes of people who were there. The Manager of a bank of Brussels had abandoned everything he owned and joined the crowd. There were several financiers of standing who felt obliged to flee with their families. And there were lots of servants who had lived here for years and were really Belgian in everything but birth. Just before the last train left some closed wagons came from the prisons to bring a lot of Germans and wish them back on their own country in this way.
And there was not an incident. Here and there a prowling cab driver hooted, but there was not a stone thrown or any other violence. Before the last of the procession got into the station, it was nearly six o'clock and broad daylight. We moved up the platform with Major Dandoy and watched the last train leave. The Abbé Upmans was there through it all, working like a trump, bucking the people up; he did not stop until the last train pulled out into the fresh summer morning, and then he stayed aboard after the train was in motion to shake hands with a little handful of downhearted people. He shook himself and heaved a sigh of relief—remarking quietly that his duty had required him to go through all this and look after his charges while they were in trouble—but that now he might have the satisfaction of being a Belgian. I too heaved a sigh of relief, but it was because the mob was safely off and I need not worry about street fighting.
Dandoy had not had any sleep for nearly sixty hours, and though Nasmith and I were pretty tired ourselves, we thought the least we could do was to take him home. His family is in Liège and he has not been able to get any word from them. I offered to try a telephone message to the Consul at Liège, but have had no luck with it. None the less, Dandoy has been most grateful.
Before we left the station they began bringing in the wounded and prisoners. Most of the wounded I saw were not badly hurt, and were plucky and confident. Most of them were supported or led by Boy Scouts who have taken off the military the full burden of messenger work and a lot of other jobs. They are being of real value, as they can do lots of useful things and thereby release grown men for service at the front.
When I got back to the Rue St. Boniface—after stopping at the Legation to see what had come in—had just time to throw myself down for a twenty-minute rest before the slave came in with my coffee. And then with no time for a tub, I had to hurry back and get into the harness. And none too soon, for the work began to pour in and I have been kept on the jump all day. If all goes well I hope to get to bed some time after midnight to-night. That means about three hours sleep and hard going during the past forty-eight hours.
This morning the various American committees came to the Legation to report on the measures they have taken for the protection of the colony in case of danger. I have been handed the pleasant task of Chief of Staff, with full authority to settle all matters affecting the protection of Americans in case hostilities reach this part of the country, as seems may well be the case before many days. In harmony with my well-known policy of passing the buck—more politely known as executive ability—I impressed Major Boyer of the Army, who is here for the time. He has set up an office at the headquarters of the committee and makes it his business to keep me fully posted as to what is going on there. First I started him out to look at the various houses that have been under discussion by the committee, so that he could decide as to their relative accessibility and general strategic advantages. He did this and made all sorts of arrangements tending to co-ordinate the work of the various sub-committees along the lines of the plan we drew up. It will be a great thing to have somebody who will act as buffer for all the detail and relieve me of just that much.
Germans who for one reason or another had not got away on our train kept turning up all day, and we kept sending them along to the Consulate. Late this afternoon the hard-working Nasmith came in to say that there were already seven hundred of them gathered there. We shall have to have another special train for day after to-morrow morning, and hope to get most of the remaining Germans out of harm's way by that time.
The Belgians continue to be a surprise. At last accounts they were still holding the forts at Liège. The French appear to have established themselves along the Meuse and to be ready for the attack when it comes. Where the British troops are, nobody here seems to know—and, strange to say, they are not advertising their whereabouts. There are plenty of people who have had confidential tips from their cook's brother, who lives in the country and has seen them with his own eyes. According to such stories they are all landed at Ostend and are being hurried across the country through Malines. Another story is that they have been shipped through to Liège in closed freight cars to outwit German spies, and that they are now in the thick of it. According to still another of these confidential fellows, they have been shipped through Brussels itself in the night and we were unaware when they passed under our very windows. You can choose any story you like and get an audience with it these days.
To-day's mouth-to-mouth news is that the French have fought a big battle near St. Hubert and repulsed the Germans with heavy losses. This has about as much confirmation as the reports as to the whereabouts of the British army.
To-day trains have been coming in all day with wounded from Liège, and the lot—Belgian and German—are being cared for by the Red Cross. The Palace has been turned into a hospital, and the Queen has taken over the supervision of it. Nearly every big hotel in town has turned its dining-room into a ward, and guests are required to have their meals in their rooms. Some of the big department stores have come up finely in outfitting hospitals and workrooms, clearing out their stocks, and letting profits go hang for the time being. The International Harvester Company cleared its offices here and installed twenty-five beds—informing the Red Cross that it would take care of the running expenses as long as the war lasts. The hospital facilities have grown far faster than the wounded have come in, and there is an element of humour in the rush of eager women who go to the station and almost fight for the wounded as they are brought off the trains.
I impressed the services of several people to help out to-day, but the most valuable are two crack stenographers who have been turned over to us by business firms here. By dint of labouring with them all morning and afternoon and seeing as few people as possible, I have managed to clean up my desk, so that I can go to bed with a clear conscience to-night when I have got through my call to London.
Brussels, August 8, 1914.—To-day our new organisation is working like clockwork. In Cruger's formerly calm chancery there are five typewriters pounding away, and at the committee rooms there are swarms of people working to take care of odds and ends. Monsieur de Leval has a table at one side of my room, and the committee relieves us of the people who want information and those who want to talk.
Sunday, August 9th.—I got this far when the roof fell in last night. During the afternoon yesterday I got out to attend to a few odds and ends of errands—and, as always happens when I go out, things began to happen. I came back to find the Minister and de Leval wrestling with a big one.
A curious telegram had come from The Hague, quoting the text of a message which the German Government desired us to present to the Belgian Government. Here it is in translation, a truly German message:
The fortress of Liège has been taken by assault after a brave defense. The German Government most deeply regret that bloody encounters should have resulted from the attitude of the Belgian Government toward Germany. Germany is not coming as an enemy into Belgium; it is only through the force of circumstances that she has had, owing to the military measures of France, to take the grave decision of entering Belgium and occupying Liège as a base for her further military operations. Now that the Belgian army has upheld the honour of its arms by its heroic resistance to a very superior force, the German Government beg the King of the Belgians and the Belgian Government to spare Belgium further horrors of war. The German Government are ready for any compact with Belgium which can be reconciled with their conflicts with France. Germany once more gives her solemn assurance that it is not her intention to appropriate Belgian territory to herself and that such an intention is far from her thoughts. Germany is still ready to evacuate Belgium as soon as the state of war will allow her to do so.
The fortress of Liège has been taken by assault after a brave defense. The German Government most deeply regret that bloody encounters should have resulted from the attitude of the Belgian Government toward Germany. Germany is not coming as an enemy into Belgium; it is only through the force of circumstances that she has had, owing to the military measures of France, to take the grave decision of entering Belgium and occupying Liège as a base for her further military operations. Now that the Belgian army has upheld the honour of its arms by its heroic resistance to a very superior force, the German Government beg the King of the Belgians and the Belgian Government to spare Belgium further horrors of war. The German Government are ready for any compact with Belgium which can be reconciled with their conflicts with France. Germany once more gives her solemn assurance that it is not her intention to appropriate Belgian territory to herself and that such an intention is far from her thoughts. Germany is still ready to evacuate Belgium as soon as the state of war will allow her to do so.
Of course we were loath to present anything of the sort, but the thing had to be handled carefully. After some pow-wowing I went over to the Foreign Office with the message and saw Baron van der Elst. I told him seriously that we had received a very remarkable telegram which purported to contain a message from the German Government; that it bore no marks of authenticity, and that we were not sure as to its source; but that we felt that we should be lacking in frankness if we did not show him what we had received. He seized the message and read it through, his amazement and anger growing with each line. When he had finished, he gasped for a minute or two and then led me into the next room to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, M. Davignon, to whom he translated the telegram aloud. When they had finished discussing the message and I had a pretty clear idea as to the Belgian attitude toward the proposal—not that I had had any real doubt—I asked him: "If the American Minister had delivered this message what would have been its reception?" Without an instant's hesitation, M. Davignon replied: "We should have resented his action and should have declined to receive the communication."
That was all I wanted to know and I was ready to go back to the Legation.
I took Baron van der Elst home in the car and had the pleasure of seeing him explain who he was to several Gardes Civiques, who held up the car from time to time. He was very good-natured about it, and only resented the interruptions to what he was trying to say. His son is in the army and he has no news of him. As he got out of the car he remarked that if it were not so horrible, the mere interest of events would be enough to make these days wonderful.
When I got back to the Legation and reported the result of my visit, we went to work and framed a telegram to Washington, giving the text of the German message, explaining that we had nothing to prove its authenticity and adding that we had reason to believe that the Belgian Government would not accept it. The same message was sent to The Hague. This pleasant exercise with the code kept us going until four in the morning. Eugène, the wonder chauffeur, had no orders, but curled up on the front seat of his car and waited to take me home. He was also on hand when I got up a couple of hours later, to take me back to the Legation. Chauffeurs like that are worth having.
When I came in this morning the place was packed with Germans. Some cheerful idiot had inserted a notice in the papers that all Germans were to be run out of the country, and that they should immediately apply to the American Legation. As the flood poured in, Leval got on the telephone to the Sûreté Publique and found out the true facts. Then we posted a notice in the hall. But that was not enough. As is always the case with humans, they all knew better than to pay any attention to what the notice said and each one of the hundred or more callers had some reason to insist on talking it over with somebody. When they once got hold of one of us, it was next to impossible to get away without listening to the whole story of their lives. All they had to do was to go down to the German Consulate-General, where we had people waiting to tell them all there was to know. It was hard to make them realise that by taking up all our time in this way, they were preventing us from doing things that were really necessary to serve them in more important matters. I said as much to several of them, who were unusually long-winded, but every last one replied that HIS case was different and that he must be heard out at length.
Our refugee train left this morning and took eight hundred more of the poor people. Where they all turn up from, I don't know, but each day brings us a fresh and unexpected batch. Many of the cases are very sad, but if we stop to give sympathy in every deserving case, we should never get anything practical done for them.
To-day's budget of news is that the French have got to Mulhouse and have inflicted a decisive defeat upon the Germans. According to reports, the Alsatians went mad when the French troops crossed the frontier for the first time in forty-four years. They tore up and burned the frontier posts and generally gave way to transports of joy. I would have given a lot to see the crowds in Paris.
A letter came yesterday from Omer, the legation footman, who is at Tirlemont with the artillery. He said he had not yet been hit, although he had heard the bullets uncomfortably near. He wound up by saying that he hadbeaucoup de courage—and I believe him.
It seems that some of the German troops did not know what they were attacking and thought they were in France. When brought here as prisoners, some of them expressed surprise to find that Paris was so small. They seem to have thought that they were in France and the goal not far away.
The King to-day received through other channels the message from the Emperor of Germany in regard to peace, which we declined to transmit. I have not seen its text, but hear it is practically identical with the message sent us, asking the King to name his conditions for the evacuation of Liège and the abandonment of his allies, so that Germany may be entirely free of Belgian opposition in her further operations against France. I have heard among Belgians only the most indignant comments on the proposal and look forward with interest to seeing the answer of the King, which should appear to-morrow.[3]
The town is most warlike in appearance. There is hardly a house in the town that does not display a large Belgian flag. It looks as though it were bedecked for a fiesta. Here and there are French and British flags, but practically no others. Every motor in town flies a flag or flags at the bow. We fly our own, but none the less, the sentries, who are stationed at all the corners dividing the chief quarters of the town and before all the Ministries and other public buildings, stop us and demand the papers of the chauffeur and each passenger in the car. We have passports and all sorts of other papers, but that was not enough, and we finally had to be furnished by the Ministry for Foreign Affairs with a speciallaisser-passer. This afternoon I slipped out for a breath of air and was held up and told that even that was no good until I had had it viséd by the military authorities. It is said that these strict measures are the result of the discovery of a tremendous spy system here. According to the stories which are told, but of which we have little confirmation, spies are being picked up all the time in the strangest disguises.
The gossip and "inside news" that is imparted to us is screamingly funny—some of it.
Yesterday, according to one of these yarns, four nuns arriving at the Gare du Midi were followed for some time and finally arrested. When searched, they proved to be young German officers who had adopted that dress in order to conceal carrier pigeons which they were about to deliver in Brussels. Wireless outfits are said to have been discovered in several houses belonging to Germans. I cannot remember all the yarns that are going about, but even if a part of them are true, it should make interesting work for those who are looking for the spies. The regular arrests of proven spies have been numerous enough to turn every Belgian into an amateur spy-catcher. Yesterday afternoon Burgomaster Max was chased for several blocks because somebody raised a cry of "Espion" based on nothing more than his blond beard and chubby face. I am just as glad not to be fat and blond these days.
Yesterday afternoon a Garde Civique came in with the announcement that the chancellor and clerks of the German Legation, who were locked up there, were in dire distress; that a baby had been born the day before to the wife of the concièrge, and that all sorts of troubles had come upon them. Leval, who had announced that his heart was infinitely hardened against all Germans, was almost overcome by the news of a suffering baby and ran like a lamp-lighter to get around there and help out. When we arrived, however, we found them all beaming and happy. The baby had been born some days before and the mother was up and about before the Legation had been closed. Their meals are sent in from a neighbouring restaurant, and they are perfectly contented to bide their time as they are. They had orders from Berlin not to leave the Legation, so it made little difference to them whether they were blockaded by the Belgian authorities or not. I shall drop in every day or two and see whether there is anything I can do to lighten their gloom. Of course their telephone was cut off and they are not allowed to receive mail or papers, so they are consumed with curiosity about developments. It was, of course, necessary to refuse to answer their questions about what was going on and to make assurance doubly sure, I had the Garde Civique stand by me while I talked with them.
As things shape up now it looks as though we were the only life-sized country that could keep neutral for long, and as a consequence all the representatives of the countries in conflict are keeping us pretty well posted in the belief that they may have to turn their interests over to us. We shall probably soon have to add Austrian interests to the German burdens we now have. If there is a German advance, some of the Allied ministers will no doubt turn their legations over to us. The consequence is that we may see more of the inside of things than anybody else. Now, at least, we are everybody's friends. This is undoubtedly the most interesting post in Europe for the time being, and I would not be anywhere else for the wealth of the Indies.
Brussels, Aug. 10, 1914.—The Belgian Government has finally got out a proclamation, urging German subjects to leave the country, but stating that in the event of a general order of expulsion, certain classes of people will be allowed to remain, such as, very old persons, the sick, governesses, nurses, etc., and even others for whom Belgians of undoubted reputation are willing to vouch. There are quantities of Germans who have lived here all their lives, who are really more Belgian than German, have no interest in the present conflict and are threatened with financial ruin if they leave their interests here, and it is pretty hard on them if they are to be obliged to get out, but they are only a few of the many, many thousands who are suffering indirectly from the effects of the war. It is not any easier for the manufacturers in the neighbourhood of Liège, who will see the work of many years wiped out by the present hostilities. Some inspired idiot inserted in the papers yesterday the news that the Legation was attending to the repatriation of German subjects and the consequence is that our hallways have been jammed with Germans all day, making uncouth noises and trying to argue with us as to whether or not we are in charge of German interests. The mere fact that we deny it is not enough for them! I suppose that the hallways will continue to sound like a celebration of Kaisersgeburtstag until we have sent off the last of them.
This morning a large, badly frightened darkey came in looking for a passport. He awaited his turn very quietly, and grew visibly more and more apprehensive at the long series of questions asked of the people ahead of him. When he moved up to the desk, the first question was:
"Where do you want to go?"
"Jes as fur as the stature of Libbuty."
"Are you an American citizen?"
"Me? Lawd bless yuh! No, I ain't nuthin' but a plain ole Baltimoh coon."
Then they gave him the usual blank to fill out. One of the questions on it was:
"Why do you desire to return to the United States?"
Without any hesitation he wrote:
"I am very much interested in my home at the present time."
Everybody here is intensely curious as to what has become of the British army; the most generally accepted story is that troops have been landed at Calais, Dunkirk and Ostend, but although this is generally believed, there seems to be absolutely no official confirmation of it. Everyone seems to take it for granted that the British will turn up in good form when the right time comes, and that when they do turn up, it will have a good effect. If they can get to the scene of hostilities without everybody knowing about it, it increases by just so much their chances of success and anyone that knows anything at all is keeping mum and hoping that no British soldier will stumble over a chair and make a noise and give away the line of march.
Our letters from London indicate intense satisfaction with the appointment of Kitchener and confidence that he will get a maximum of service out of the forces at his command.
We have been looking from one moment to another for news of a big naval engagement, but suppose the British Navy is somewhere waiting for a chance to strike.
Colonel Fairholme, the British Military Attaché, has made a number of trips to the front and reports that the morale of the Belgian troops is excellent, that the organisation is moving like clockwork, and, as he expresses it, that "every man has his tail up."
This evening I went over to the British Legation to see the Colonel, and learn whatever news he had that he could give me. There was a great scurrying of servants and the porter was not to be found in the chancery. The door to Grant-Watson's room was ajar, so I tapped, and, on being bade in a gruff voice to "Come in," walked into the presence of a British officer in field uniform, writing at Webber's desk. He was dusty and unshaven, and had evidently come in from a long ride. I promptly backed out with apologies and was hustled out of the place by Kidston, who came running out from the Minister's office. I asked him if the rest of the army was hidden about the chancery, and his only reply was to tell me to run along and find the navy, which they themselves had not been able to locate. They evidently have all they need to know about the whereabouts of the army, but have succeeded in keeping it dark.
C.M. came over to the Legation this afternoon to get some books for her mother. We fixed her up and put her in her car, when she announced that on the way over she had been arrested and taken to the police station as a German. People are pointing out spies on the street, and anybody that is blond and rosy-cheeked stands a fine show of being arrested every time he goes out. She had impressed this car with a suspected number and paid for it by being made into a jail bird.
My day's work began with a visit to the German Legation. The Government asked me to secure and return the number for the automobile of von Stumm, the German Counselor. I had his machine put in the Legation the day after he left, although he had offered it to me. I presented myself at the door of the Legation with the note from the Foreign Office, asking for the number, but was refused admittance by the Gardes Civiques. They were very nice, but stated that they had the strictest orders not to let anybody come in or out, and that they had not discretionary powers. At a visit at the Foreign Office later in the day, I told of my experience and asked that I be furnished by the military authorities with alaisser-passerwhich would enable me to enter the Legation whenever I so desire. This afternoon I received a formidable document from the Military Governor which gives me free passage—so far as I can make out—to enter the Legation in any way save by telephone or telegraph. I shall go around to-morrow and rub it in on the Gardes Civiques.
The question of passes has been changed and made more strict each day, and has got to be a sort of joke. I first used my card, that was declared insufficient almost from the first. Then I tried mypermis de circulation, which was issued to allow me to get into the railway stations without paying. That was good for a day or so. Then I tried my passport (as a bearer of despatches), and that got me through once or twice. Then the Minister for Foreign Affairs gave me his personal card with alaisser-passerin his own hand, but that was soon turned down on the ground that the military authorities are in control and the civil authorities cannot grant passes. Finally the Government has got out a special form oflaisser-passerfor the diplomats, and it may prove to be good—although it is not signed by the military authorities. I have taken the precaution of keeping all the aforementioned documents and some others on my person, and am curious to see how soon I shall have to have some other. The Garde Civique is no longer content with holding up the car every few blocks and examining thepièce d'identitéof the chauffeur; they must now be satisfied as to the bona fides of each passenger. Doing some errands around town this afternoon I was held up and looked over eleven times. I now pull out all the documents I own and hand out the bunch each time I am stopped. The Garde then, in most cases, treats the matter rather humorously, and the next time I pass lets me go on without going through the whole performance again. In front of the German Legation, however, which we nearly always pass on our way to or from town, we are invariably held up and looked into seriously. I know most of the people on the different shifts by this time and wish them well each time they look at the well-remembered papers. I shall keep the credentials and any others that may eventually be added to them, and perhaps some day I shall be able to paper a room with them.
In the course of the morning there were several matters of interest which made it necessary for me to go to the Foreign Office. All their messengers are now gone, and in their place there is a squad of Boy Scouts on duty. I had a long conference with van der Elst, the Director-General of the Ministry. In the course of our pow-wow it was necessary to send out communications to various people and despatch instructions in regard to several small matters. Each time van der Elst would ring, for what he calls a "scoots," and hand him the message with specific instructions as to just how it should be handled. The boys were right on their toes, and take great pride in the responsibility that is given them. Some of them have bicycles and do the messenger work through the town. Those who have not, run errands in the different buildings and attend to small odd jobs.
The Red Cross is very much in evidence. I went around to the headquarters after my call at the Foreign Office, to make a little contribution of my own and to leave others for members of our official family. The headquarters is at the house of Count Jean de Mérode, the Grand Marshal of the Court. The entrance hall was filled with little tables where women sat receiving contributions of money and supplies. I had to wait some time before I could get near enough to one of the dozen or more tables, to hand in my contributions. This is the headquarters, but there are any number of branch offices, and they are said to be equally busy. The society has been quite overcome by the way people have come forward with gifts, and they have been almost unable to get enough people together to handle them as they come in. The big cafés down-town nearly all have signs out, announcing that on a certain day or days they will give their entire receipts to the Red Cross or to one of the several funds gotten up to take care of those suffering directly or indirectly from the war. Many of the small shops have signs out of the same sort, announcing that the entire receipts for all articles sold on a certain day will be handed to one of the funds. They must have gathered an enormous amount of money, and I don't doubt they will need it. The wounded are being brought in in great numbers and many buildings are quite filled with them. In nearly every street there is a Red Cross flag or two, to indicate a temporary hospital in a private house or a hotel or shop, and people are stationed in the street to make motors turn aside or slow down. There are almost no motors on the street except those on official business or Red Cross work; and, because of the small amount of traffic, these few go like young cyclones, keeping their sirens going all the time. The chauffeurs love it and swell around as much as they are allowed to do. I pray with ours now and then, but even when I go out to the barber, he seems to believe that he is on his way to a fire and cuts loose for all he is worth.
Quantities of German prisoners continue to be brought here for safe keeping, and many of them are taken on down to Bruges. Among those removed there for unusually safe keeping yesterday was a nephew of the Emperor.
Judging from the stories printed in theLondon Timeswhich arrived to-night, the German Government aroused great enthusiasm by playing up the capture of Liège. The Germans evidently were led to believe they had gained a great victory; whereas the forts, which are the only object of the campaign, are still intact. The city itself is undefended, and there is no great military reason why the Belgians should not allow it to be taken. The German troops that had invested the town have not taken over the administration, but appear to be confining themselves to requisitioning provisions and supplies, of which they are in need. The Berlin papers made a great hurrah about the capture of the citadel, which is a purely ornamental old fort without military importance. From what they tell me, I judge that you could back an American army mule up against it and have him kick it down without the expense of bombarding it. It sounds well in the despatches, however.
Eight French aeroplanes sailed over the city this afternoon, probably coming from Namur. One of the machines landed on the aviation field at the edge of the city, and the aviator was nearly torn to shreds by admirers who wanted to shake him by the hand and convince him that he was really welcome to Brussels. It is said that some of these fellows are going to lie in wait for the Zeppelins which have been sailing over Brussels by night to terrify the population. We hear that one of the Belgian army aviators did attack a Zeppelin and put it out of business, bringing to earth and killing all the crew. He himself went to certain death in the attempt.
The afternoon papers say that in Paris the name of the Rue de Berlin has been changed to Rue de Liège. Here the Rue d'Allemagne has been changed to Rue de Liège and the Rue de Prusse to Rue du Général Leman, the defender of Liège. The time abounds inbeaux gestesand they certainly have their effect on the situation.
Kitchener says that the war may last for some time. At first it seemed to be taken for granted that it could not last long, as the financial strain would be too great and the damage done so enormous that one side or the other would have to yield to avoid national bankruptcy.
Brussels, August 11, 1914.—Our halls have been filled with Germans and Americans, the latter in smaller numbers and the former in larger crowds than ever. They are gradually being got out of the country, however, and those who are going to remain are being induced to go to the right authorities, so that their troubles will soon be settled to a large extent, and they will not be coming here so much. We are getting off hundreds of telegrams about the whereabouts and welfare of Americans and others here and in other parts of Europe; this work alone is enough to keep a good-sized staff working, and we have them hard at it.
This afternoon I went over to the British Legation and saw Colonel Fairholme, the military attaché, for a few minutes. He was just back from a trip out into the wilds with a party of British officers and was so clearly rushed that I had not the heart to detain him, although I was bursting with curiosity about the news he evidently had concealed about him. He appreciates the lenient way I have treated him, and goes out of his way to let me have anything that he can.
While I was out we saw a German monoplane which sailed over the city not very high up. The newspapers have published a clear description of the various aeroplanes that are engaged in the present war, so that nobody will be foolish enough to fire at those of the allies when they come our way. This one was clearly German, and the Garde Civique and others were firing at it with their rifles, but without any success. Our Legation guard, which consists of about twenty-five men, banged away in a perfect fusillade, but the airman was far too high for them to have much chance of hitting him.
Yesterday afternoon when the German biplanes passed over the city, a Belgian officer gave chase in a monoplane, but could not catch them. Contests of this sort are more exciting to the crowd than any fancy aviation stunts that are done at exhibitions, and the whole town turns out whenever an aeroplane is sighted.
This morning I presented myself at the German Legation with the imposinglaisser-passerfurnished me by the Military Governor of Brabant, but the guard on duty at the door had not received orders to let me in and turned me down politely but definitely. I took the matter up with the Foreign Office and said that I wanted it settled, so that I would not have any more fruitless trips over there. At five an officer from the État-Major of the Garde Civique came for me in a motor and took me over to the Legation, to give orders in my presence that whenever I appeared I was to be allowed to pass without argument. As I got into the motor I noticed that the soldier who was driving the car looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, but paid no attention to him. When I took a second look I saw that it was G. B——, with whom I had played golf several times. I am constantly being greeted by people in uniform whom I had known at one time or another. It is hard to recognise them in uniform.
So far as operations in Belgium are concerned, we may not have anything big for some days to come; but, in the meantime, work of preparation is being pushed rapidly and supplies and reinforcements are being rushed to the front. Half the shops in town are closed, and all the people are working either in the field or taking care of the wounded or prisoners. There are said to be some eight thousand German prisoners in Belgium, and it is some work to take care of them all.
Brussels, August 12, 1914.—A few minutes' gap, so I seize my pen to scratch off a line.
Last night when I left here I rode up the Rue Bélliard on my way home. I was stopped in front of the German Legation by the guard which was placed across the street. They examined the chauffeur's papers carefully and then looked over mine. They compared the tintype on mylaisser-passerwith the classic lineaments of the original, and after looking wise, told me to move on. When we got up to the Boulevard there was great cheering, and we came out on a thin file of French cavalry, which was on its way through town from the Gare du Midi. The crowd was mad with enthusiasm and the soldiers, although plainly very tired, pulled their strength together every now and then to cry, "Vive la Belgique!" There were crowds on the Boulevards, waiting for news fromlà bas. A few French officers were going about in cabs, and each time that one appeared the crowd went mad. The officers were smiling and saluting, and every now and then one stood up in his place and cheered for Belgium. In twenty minutes or so, I saw that we could get through, so started for home and bed.
When we got to the Porte de Namur, we heard frenzied cheering down by the Porte Louise. The chauffeur is a regular old war horse who does not want to miss a trick. He cast a questioning glance over his shoulder; and, catching my nod, put on full speed down the Boulevard until we came to a solid crowd banked along the line of march of more French cavalry. The people in the crowd had bought out the nearby shops of cigars and cigarettes and chocolate and small flasks of brandy, and as each man rode by, he was loaded up with as much as he could carry. The défilé had been going on for over an hour, but the enthusiasm was still boundless. All the cafés around the Porte Louise sent out waiters and waitresses with trays of beer to meet the troops as they came into the Avenue Louise. Each man would snatch a glass of beer, swallow it as he rode along and hand it back to others who were waiting with empty trays a hundred yards or so down the line of march. The men were evidently very tired, and it was an effort for them to show any appreciation of their reception, but they made the effort and croaked out, "Vive la Belgique!" The French and British troops can have anything they want in this country. They will be lucky, though, if they escape without acute indigestion.
Yesterday afternoon, as I was coming out of the chancery of the British Legation, a little cockney messenger in uniform came snorting into the court on a motor-cycle. As he got off he began describing his experiences, and wound up his story of triumphant progress—"And when I got to the Boulevards I ran down a blighter on a bicycle and the crowd gave me an ovation!"
More troubles to-day about the German Legation. The État-Major gave orders that nobody but I should be allowed to enter. The laymen who have the onerous duty of protecting the Legation held a council of war, and decided that this precluded them from allowing food to go in; so when the waitress from the Grand Veneur with the lunch of the crowd inside came along, she was turned back and told I should have to go with her. I went around to the Legation and fixed it up with the guard. A few minutes ago the waitress came back with word that more bread and butter was wanted, but that the guard had changed and that she was again barred out. Monsieur de Leval and I went around again and fortunately found some one from the État-Major who was there for inspection. He promised to get proper orders issued and now we hope that we shall not be obliged to take in every bite under convoy.
There are ominous reports to-day of a tremendous German advance in this direction, and it is generally believed that there will be a big engagement soon near Haelen, which is on the way from Liège to Tirlemont. Communications are cut, so I don't quite see where all the news comes from.
After dinner.—News sounds better to-night. Although there is nothing very definite, the impression is that the Belgians have come out victorious to-day in an engagement near Tirlemont. I hope to get some news later in the evening.
During a lull in the proceedings this afternoon, I got in Blount's car and went out to Brooks, to see his horses and arrange to have him send them in for our use every afternoon. He came over here a few months ago to spend the rest of his life in peace and quiet. It looks as though he wouldn't get much of either.
The Avenue de Tervueren, a broad boulevard with a parkway down the centre, is the most direct way into town from the scene of the fighting, and there has been a general belief that the Germans might rush a force into town in motors that way. In order to be ready for anything of the sort, a barricade has been made of heavy tram cars placed at right angles across the road, so that they do not absolutely stop traffic, but compel motors to slow down and pick their way, thus: