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 in _beaux gestes_ and 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 imposing
_laisser-passer_ furnished 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 my
_laisser-passer_ with 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 from
_là 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:
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It is close work getting through, and can only be done at a snail's
pace.
The latest news we have is that the nearest large German force is just
38 miles away from Brussels.
* * * * *
_Brussels, August 13, 1914._--Last night, after dining late, I went out
to find my friend, Colonel Fairholme, and see if he had any news. He had
just finished his day's work and wanted some air. Fortunately I had the
car along and so took him out for a spin to the end of the Avenue
Louise. We walked back, followed by the car, and had a nightcap at the
Porte de Namur.
The Colonel has been going to Louvain every day, to visit the General
Staff and report to the King as the military representative of an ally.
The first time he arrived in a motor with Gen. de Selliers de
Moranville, the Chief of Staff. As they drew into the square in front of
the headquarters, they saw that everything was in confusion and a crowd
was gathered to watch arrivals and departures. When their car stopped, a
large thug, mistaking him for a German officer, reached in and dealt him
a smashing blow on the mouth with his fist, calling him a "_sal alboche_"
by way of good measure. He had to go in and report to the King, streaming
with blood--a pleasant beginning. He is just getting back to a point where
he can eat with ease and comfort. Life will be easier for some of the
attachés when people get used to khaki uniforms and learn that some do not
cover Germans.
The day the General Staff left for the front, the Colonel went to see
them off. He was called by one of the high officers who wanted to talk
to him, and was persuaded to get on the train and ride as far as the
Gare du Luxembourg, sending his car through town to meet him there. Word
came that the King wanted to see the Chief of Staff, so he asked the
Colonel to take him to the Palace. When the crowd saw a British officer
in uniform and decorations come out of the station accompanied by the
Chief of Staff and two aides, they decided that it was the
Commander-in-Chief of the British army who was arriving and gave him a
wonderful ovation. Even the papers published it as authentic. He was
tremendously fussed at the idea of sailing under false colors, but the
rest of us have got some amusement out of it.
Stories are coming in here about the doings of the German troops.
According to reports they came into Hasselt and took the money in the
town treasury and the local bank--some two and a half millions
altogether. The story, whether true or not, has caused a great deal of
ill feeling here. There is another story that the commanding officer of
one of the forts around Liège was summoned to parley with a white flag.
When he climbed on top of his turret, he was shot through both legs and
only saved by his men pulling him to cover. Of course there are always a
great many stories of this sort scattered broadcast at the beginning of
every war, but in this instance they seem to be generally believed and
are doing the Germans no good at all.
Mlle. D----, one of our stenographers, has a brother in the French army.
She has not heard a word from him since the war began, and had no idea
where he was. Yesterday a small detachment of French cavalry came along
the street. She ran out, called to one of them that her brother was in
the ----, and asked where it was. They told her it had not yet been in
action and she has been walking on air ever since. But she could not
telegraph the good news to her family, for fear of betraying military
movements.
Roger de Leval, the 8-year-old son of our friend, practically broke off
diplomatic relations with his father and mother because he was not allowed
to be a Boy Scout. His father was at the Legation, his mother at the Red
Cross, and he had to stay at home with his governess. He felt so badly
about it that we had Monsieur de Leval register him as a B.S., and have
him assigned to special duty at the Legation. He attends in full uniform
and carries messages and papers from my room to the other offices and vice
versa. When we go out he rides on the box with the chauffeur and salutes
all the officers we pass. They are used to it now and return the salutes
very gravely. The youngster now feels that he is really doing something,
but is outraged because we go along. He wants to undertake some of the
big missions alone.
Princesse Charles de Ligne was in this morning. Her son, Prince Henri,
head of that branch of the house, has enlisted as a private in the
aviation corps. There seemed to be no way for him to have a commission
at once, so he put his star of the Legion of Honor on his private's
uniform and was off to the front yesterday. That's the spirit.
Comtesse d'A---- was at their home in the Grand Duchy when war broke
out. No news had been received from her, and her husband was worried
sick. We got a message through via The Hague and got word back this
morning that she was safe and well. I went up to tell him the good news.
He was presiding over some sort of committee meeting, and the maid said
I could not see him. I insisted that she should announce me and after
some argument she did. As the door opened, the buzz subsided and she
announced: "_Monsieur le Secrétaire de la Légation d'Amérique_." There
was a terrible cry of fear and the old Count came running out white as a
sheet. Before he had come in sight I called out, "_Les nouvelles sont
bonnes!_" The old chap collapsed on my shoulder and cried like a baby,
saying over and over: "_J'étais si inquiet: j'étais si inquiet!_" He
soon pulled himself together and showed me out to the car with the
honours of war. We send and receive hundreds of telegrams of inquiry and
shoot them through in a perfectly routine way. It is only now and then
that we come to a realising sense of the human side of it all.
This afternoon I went over and made inquiry as to the well-being of
those who are cooped up in the German Legation. They are getting along
perfectly well, but are consumed with curiosity as to the progress of
the war. The Government has not allowed them to have any letters or
newspapers, and they are completely in the dark as to what is going on.
I felt like a brute to refuse them, but could not very well do anything
against the wishes of the Government. They were decent enough not to
embarrass me by insisting, which made it harder to refuse. The son of
Hofrath Grabowsky, the Chancellor of the Legation, is Secretary of the
German Consulate at Antwerp. He came down here to say good-bye to his
father the day war was declared, and lingered so long that he was cooped
up with the others. He is liable for military service in Germany, and
having left his post at Antwerp at such a time, he must face a court
martial whenever he does get home. There are five or six people there,
including the wife of the old Hofrath, who are firmly convinced that
they will all be murdered in their beds. It is my daily job to comfort
them and assure them that nobody now here is giving any thought to them.
Last night I dined with Colonel Fairholme and Kidston, the First
Secretary of the Legation. We went to the usually crowded terrace of the
Palace Hotel, where we had no difficulty in getting a table in the best
part of the balcony. The few other diners were nearly all colleagues or
officers. Military motors and motor-cycles came and went, and orderlies
dashed up on horseback and delivered messages; it looked like war.
The proprietor of the hotel, who has given one hundred thousand francs
to the Red Cross, rolled up in his motor from a trip to the front and
got out with an armful of Prussian helmets and caps, which he had
collected. A crowd gathered round the motor and displayed as much
pleasure as though he had brought in a whole German Army corps. The
novelty of these souvenirs has not yet worn off.
Women with big tin boxes came by every few minutes to collect for the
Red Cross or some other fund. Finally the Colonel protested, and asked
if there was no way of buying immunity. That was quickly arranged by
giving up five francs, in return for which we were given tags of
immunity. Dozens of collectors came by during the evening, but our
ostentatiously displayed tags saved us.
We ate at our leisure--out of doors--the first unhurried and unharried
meal I have had for days, and then got back to the Legation.
This afternoon the Minister and I went over to see Sir Francis Villiers,
the British Minister, and spent half an hour with him. He is evidently
all ready to make a quick get-away whenever it looks as though the
Germans would come to Brussels. A number of the other diplomats are also
prepared to depart. Those who are accredited at The Hague will probably
go there, and the others will go to Antwerp. We are too busy here to
enjoy the luxury of spending a month undergoing a siege, so no matter
what happens, we shall probably not go along. The Minister and I shall
take turns from time to time, going up to pay our respects.
Having some things to talk over, the Minister and I went for a drive
after our visit, and it was well we did, for when we got back, we found
the hall filled with callers. As the tourists and the Germans leave, the
war correspondents begin to come in, and in a few days we shall probably
have the place full of them. I heard to-day that there were 200 of them
in London, and that most of them want to come on here.
Maxwell, the British correspondent, told me this afternoon that he
looked for a big engagement at Diest to-morrow or the day after. He has
been down through the fighting zone ever since the trouble began, and
probably knows more about pending operations than any other civilian.
While I was writing, Z---- came in, suffering from a bad case of panic.
He announced as he burst into my office that the Germans were within 20
kilometers of Brussels and were going to occupy the city this evening.
He was fairly trembling, but got indignant because I denied it, having
just talked with Colonel Fairholme and with Maxwell, both of whom had no
more than come back from the front. The fact that it had been published
in the _Soir_ was enough for him, and although the news had made him
nervous, he hated to have his perfectly good sensation spoiled.
The authorities, so as to be prepared for any eventuality, have this
evening published a communiqué to impress upon the population the
necessity for abstaining from any participation in the hostilities in
case of an occupation. It advises everybody to stay indoors and avoid
any words or actions that might give an excuse for measures against
non-combatants.
* * * * *
_August 15th._--Last night I dined with the Colonel, Grant-Watson, and
Kidston at the Palace. I was looking forward to a lot of interesting
talk, as the Colonel had just come from the front. Just as we were
settling down to our conversational Marathon, up walked ----, the
---- Chargé and bade himself to dine with us. He is strongly pro-German
in his sympathies, and, of course, that put a complete damper on
conversation. We talked about everything on earth save the one thing we
were interested in, and sat tight in the hope that he would move on. Not
only did he stay, but after a time the ---- First Secretary came and
joined us, and we gave up in despair. The only result of the evening was
that I gathered the impression that there is a good deal of apprehension
on the part of the allies as to the result of the next big battle, which
may occur any day now. The Germans are undoubtedly pretty near now,
perhaps a good deal nearer than we know. Just before dinner the War
Office announced that there would be no further official communiqués as
to the operations. That looks as though they were battening down the
hatches for the next big engagement.
Yesterday's papers announced France's declaration of war against
Austria. This morning comes the news that Montenegro has also declared
her intention of wiping Austria off the map. Our daily query now
is--"Who has declared war to-day?"
Every minute we are not hammering away at our work, we sit around and
talk of the latest developments. These things make such an impression
that I can quite understand old veterans boring everybody to death with
reminiscences. I see some forty years from now that people will be
saying: "I don't want to let old man Gibson get hold of me and tell me
all about the war of 1914!"
This morning I received a telegram from Richard Harding Davis, who wants
to join the Belgian forces. We are trying to arrange it this morning,
and I expect to see him any day now.
We are going to have a lot of newspaper men in our midst. I met two more
of them last night. None of them who have so far appeared speak any
language but English, but they are all quite confident that they can get
all the news. I look next for Palmer and Jimmy Hare and the rest of the
crowd.
Maxwell, the _Telegraph_ correspondent, yesterday showed me a photograph
of a French bulldog that has been doing good service at Liège. His
master, who is an officer in one of the forts, fastens messages in his
collar and shoves him out onto the glacis. The puppy makes a blue streak
for home and, as he is always sent at night, has managed so far to avoid
the Germans. His mistress brings him back to the edge of town and starts
him back for the fort.
The Belgian troops have so far had to dam the flood of Germans with
little or no help from the allies. The Kaiser expected, so far as we can
make out, to sweep through Belgium with little opposition and be
fighting in France in three days! The Belgians have knocked his schedule
out by twelve days already, and there is no telling how much longer they
may hold out. "My military advisers" tell me that in view of the great
necessity for a quick campaign in France, so as to get the army back in
time to head off the Russian flood when it begins to pour over the
northern frontier, the loss of this much time is equivalent to the loss
of the first great battle. The moral effect is also tremendous.
The Minister to-day had a card from Omer which began: "_J'ai l'honneur
de faire savoir a Votre Excellence que je suis encore toujours vivant!_"
_Encore toujours_ sounds as though he were pretty emphatically alive. We
were all relieved to hear from him.