HOW MAX HAS INFLUENCED BRUSSELS
In their attitude to the Germans, the _Bruxellois_ undoubtedly take
their tone from M. Max.
For his sake they suppressed themselves as quickly as possible that
famous Sunday and soon went on their usual way. Their attitude towards
the Germans revealed itself as a truly remarkable one. It was perfect in
every sense. They were never rude, never sullen, never afraid, and until
this particular Sunday and afterwards again, they always behaved as
though the Germans did not exist at all. They walked past them as though
they were air.
No one ever speaks to the Huns in Brussels. They sit there alone in the
restaurants, or in groups, eating, eating, eating. Hour after hour they
sit there. You pass at seven and they are eating and drinking. You pass
at nine, they are still eating and drinking. Their red faces grow redder
and redder. Their gold wedding rings grow tighter and tighter on their
fingers.
The Belgians wait on them with an admirable air of not noticing their
presence, never looking at them, never speaking to them, the waiters
bringing them their food with an admirable detached air as though they
are placing viands before a set of invisible spectres.
Always alone are the Germans in Brussels, and sometimes they look
extremely bored. I can't help noticing that.
They do their best to win a little friendliness from the Belgians. But
in vain. At the restaurants they always pay for their food. They also
make a point of sometimes ostentatiously dropping money into the boxes
for collecting funds for the Belgians. But the _Bruxellois_ never for
one moment let down the barriers between themselves and "les Allemands,"
although they do occasionally allow themselves the joy of "getting a
rise" out of the Landsturm when possible,--an amusement which the
Germans apparently find it impolite to resent!
I sat in a tram in Brussels when two Germans in mufti entered and quite
politely excused themselves from paying their fares, explaining that
they were "military" and travel free.
"But how do I know that you are really German soldiers!" says the plucky
little tram guard, while all the passengers crane forward to listen.
"You're not in uniform. I don't know who you are. You must pay your
fares, Messieurs, or you must get out."
With red annoyed faces the Germans pull out their soldiers' medals,
gaudy ornate affairs on blue ribbons round their necks.
"I don't recognise these," says the tram guard, examining them
solemnly. "They're not what our soldiers carry. I can't let you go free
on these."
"But we have no money!" splutter the Germans.
"Then I must ask you to get out," says the guard gravely.
And the two Germans, looking very foolish, actually get out of the tram,
whereupon the passengers all burst into uncontrollable laughter, which
gives them a vast amount of satisfaction, while the two Germans, very
red in the face, march away down the street.
As for the street urchins, they flourish under the German occupation,
adopting exactly the same attitude towards their conquerors as that
manifested by their elders and M. Max.
Dressed up in paper uniforms, with a carrot for the point of their
imitation German helmet they march right under the noses of the Germans,
headed by an old dog.
Round the old dog's neck is an inscription:
"_The war is taking place for the aggrandisement of Belgium!_"
The truth is--the beautiful truth--that the spirit of M. Max hangs over
Brussels, steals through it, pervades it. It is his ego that possesses
the town. It is Max who is really in occupation there. It is Max who is
the true conqueror. It is Max who holds Brussels, and will hold it
through all time to come. For all that the Germans are going about the
streets, and for all that Max is detained in his "honorable" fortress,
the man's spirit is so indomitable, so ardent, that he makes himself
felt through his prison walls, and the population of Brussels is able to
say, with magnificent sangfroid, and a confidence that is absolutely
real:--
"They may keep M. Max in a fortress! But even les alboches will never
dare to hurt a hair of his head!"