perpendicular ladder leading to a trap door. We all scrambled up
this--all but the Minister of Justice, who remained behind in the garret
with his top hat.
We looked the place over very carefully, and the workmen--evidently in
order to feel that they were doing something--cut a few wires which
probably resulted in great inconvenience to perfectly harmless people
farther along the street. But there was no evidence of a wireless
outfit. One of the men started to explain to me how that proved nothing
at all; that an apparatus was now made that could be concealed in a hat
and brought out at night to be worked. He stopped in the middle of a
word, for suddenly we heard the rasping intermittent hiss of a wireless
very near at hand. Everybody stiffened up like a lot of pointers, and in
a minute had located the plant. It was nothing but a rusty girouette on
top of a chimney being turned by the wind and scratching spitefully at
every turn. The discovery eased the strain and everybody laughed.
Then there was another sound, and we all turned around to see a trap
door raised and the serene, bemonocled face of my friend Cavalcanti
looked out on us in bewilderment. In our search we had strayed over
onto the roof of the Brazilian Legation. It seemed to cause him some
surprise to see us doing second-story work on their house. It was a
funny situation--but ended in another laugh. It is a good thing we can
work in a laugh now and then.
The day was chiefly occupied with perfecting arrangements for getting
off our German refugees. The Minister wished the job on me, and I with
some elements of executive ability myself gave the worst part of it to
Nasmith, the Vice-Consul-General. Modifications became necessary every
few minutes, and Leval and I were running around like stricken deer all
day, seeing the disheartening number of government officials who were
concerned, having changes made and asking for additional trains. During
the afternoon more and more Germans came pouring into the Consulate for
refuge, until there were over two thousand of them there, terribly
crowded and unhappy. Several convents were also packed, and we
calculated that we should have two or three thousand to get out of the
country. In the morning the Legation was besieged by numbers of poor
people who did not know which way to turn and came to us because they
had been told that we would take care of them. We were all kept busy;
and Leval, smothering his natural feelings, came out of his own accord
and talked and advised and calmed the frightened people in their own
language. None of us would have asked him to do it, but he was fine
enough to want to help and to do it without any fuss.
A crowd of curious people gathered outside the Legation to watch the
callers, and now and then they boo-ed a German. I looked out of the
window in time to see somebody in the crowd strike at a poor little worm
of a man who had just gone out the door. He was excited and foolish
enough to reach toward his hip pocket as though for a revolver. In an
instant the crowd fell on him; and although Gustave, the messenger, and
I rushed out we were just in time to pull him inside and slam the door
before they had a chance to polish him off. Gustave nearly had his
clothes torn off in the scrimmage, but stuck to his job. An inspired
idiot of an American tourist who was inside tried to get the door open
and address the crowd in good American, and I had to handle him most
undiplomatically to keep him from getting us all into trouble. The crowd
thumped on the door a little in imitation of a mob scene, and the Garde
Civique had to be summoned on the run from the German Legation to drive
them back and establish some semblance of order. Then de Leval and I
went out and talked to the crowd--that is to say, we went out and he
talked to the crowd. He told them very reasonably that they were doing
harm to Belgium, as actions of this sort might bring reprisals which
would cost the country dear, and that they must control their feelings.
He sounded the right note so successfully that the crowd broke up with a
cheer.
Orders have been issued to permit us free use of the telephone and
telegraph, although they have been cut for everybody else. Yesterday
afternoon I talked with the Consulates at Ghent and Antwerp. They were
both having their troubles with Germans who wanted to get out of the
country. I told them to send everybody up here and let them report at
their own consulate, where they will be looked after.
The Government is taking no chances of having trouble because of the
doings of francs-tireurs. The Minister of the Interior sent out, on the
4th, a circular to every one of the 2,700 communes in the country to be
posted everywhere. The circular points out in simple and emphatic terms
the duty of civilians to refrain from hostile acts and makes it clear
that civilians might be executed for such acts. Aside from this, every
newspaper in the country has printed the following notice signed by the
Minister of the Interior:
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 the _Tennessee_ with the money
on board. Now all hands want some of the money and a cabin on the
_Tennessee_ to 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 a _pension_ at 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.
[Illustration: Her Majesty, Elisabeth, Queen of the Belgians
_Photograph by Underwood & Underwood_]
[Illustration: 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.