and action, and an independence of political and personal pressure, and
a consequent freedom of administration which the Belgians could not hope
to enjoy. It is only by the assumption of complete authority and
responsibility by the Committee that the patrons will be able to give
the various Governments concerned the necessary assurances as to the
disposition of foodstuffs and the fulfillment of guarantees.
There is something splendid about the way Hoover and his associates have
abandoned their own affairs and all thought of themselves in order to
turn their entire attention to feeding the Belgians. They have
absolutely cut loose from their business, and are to give their whole
time to the work of the Committee. This is done without heroics. I
should hardly have known it was done, but for the fact that Hoover
remarked in a matter of fact way:
"Of course everybody will have to be prepared to let business go and
give their whole time."
And it was so completely taken for granted that there is nothing but a
murmur of assent.
Another strenuous day on the food question and other things.
My plans were to leave for Brussels on Monday morning, but in the
evening the Ambassador sent for me and it was decided that I should go
to Havre and from there to see the King and Queen. That will take me to
within a couple of hours from Brussels, according to old calculations,
but under present conditions I shall have to get there by way of France,
England and Holland.
* * * * *
_Hôtel des Régates, Havre, October 26, 1914._--This is the third town
where I have paid my respects to the Belgian Government. I would gladly
have foregone the experience, for it is depressing.
I left Waterloo station at 9:15 last night. Instead of the usual
two-hour run to Southampton, we puttered along and did not arrive until
after one. I had a compartment and made myself as comfortable as
possible. When we arrived I found poor Colonel Swalm, the Consul,
waiting for me. The Ambassador had telegraphed him to see me off, and he
did so regardless of the hour. I felt horribly guilty to have him
waiting about for me, but it certainly did make things a lot easier.
I got straight to bed, but had a hard time sleeping, as there was a
tremendous racket of loading all night long. Nearly all the passengers
were British officers on their way to the front. Among the others I
found de Bassompierre of the Foreign Office, and a Mr. and Mrs. W----,
who were coming over with a Rolls-Royce, to be presented to the Belgian
General Staff. If I go to the front, he will take me. We sailed at
daybreak and were here by two o'clock. Our Consul, Osborne, was waiting
for me at the dock with Henry Needham, the correspondent of _Colliers_.
I was let straight through the customs, where a _woman_ marked my bag,
and then came to this hotel overlooking the sea.
This was the first thing we saw as we came into the harbour. It is in a
suburb called Nice Havrais, built by old Dufayel of Paris. It was a
curious and pathetic sensation to see the Belgian flags still flying
bravely. The different Ministries are set up here, and one villa has
been set aside for the King and Queen, who have not yet left Belgian
soil. The Legations are all established in this hotel and are bored to
extinction, as their work has dropped very much. This little suburb
enjoys all the privileges of extraterritoriality, and even the French
Minister to Belgium goes through the motions of being accredited to a
foreign Government in his country. The cars of the various Legations go
buzzing around among the French and Belgian and British cars. The
streets are full of troops of the three nations, while some twenty
transports ride at anchor in the open roadstead. Fresh troops from
England are arriving constantly, and march singing through the town to
the camps outside, whence they are sent to the front. There are two
British hospitals near this hotel--one of them the Casino--and wounded
are everywhere. The place is astonishingly calm, but everybody knows
there is a war. The French have their teeth set and are confident of the
final outcome. Women are in the custom house, drive the trams, collect
the fares and do a hundred other things that are usually out of their
line.
I found the hall filled with colleagues, and exchanged greetings with
the crowd before going over to the Foreign Office to make my bow. I
found Colonel Fairholme packing, and ready to leave this evening for
England.
The Foreign Office has a pretty little villa in a pretty little garden
and keeps busy. I saw everybody, from Monsieur Davignon down to the
porters, and spent an hour and a half there. Then at their request I
went to the "Palace" and talked with General Jungbluth. He will try to
arrange my business for me by telegraph, and will let me know in the
morning whether I am to go up to the front to see the King and Queen.
When I came away from this call, Osborne was waiting for me and took me
down to the Consulate for an hour's talk. Then back to the hotel to dine
with Sir Francis. After dinner we all went out and bade the Colonel
farewell.
* * * * *
_Tuesday._--General Jungbluth was waiting for me when I came down this
morning, to say that I should go to the front. Osborne was waiting with
his car, and took me to the Ministry of War, to ask for a lift to
Dunkerque in a military car. As luck would have it, to-day's car had
left ten minutes before, so I was put off until to-morrow morning, when
I shall go up with the W----s. I have spent a good part of the day
getting my papers in order--both French and Belgian--and in the tiresome
occupation of being photographed.
* * * * *
_October 28th, Hôtel des Arcades, Dunkerque._--Another one-night stand.
We cleared out of Havre this morning over muddy and slippery roads. It
rained hard all night, and we made good time by way of Fécamp, Dieppe,
Eu, Abbeville, Montreuil, Bologne, Marquise, and Calais, getting to
Dunkerque a little after four, just in time to smell the smoke of a
couple of bombs dropped by an aeroplane across the street from the
office of the Prime Minister, upon whom I called.
We began running into big bunches of troops at Abbeville--English,
French and Belgian. I saw some of the Indian troops doing sentry duty
and looking cold and uncomfortable, and did not blame them, for it was
raw and cheerless. The Rolls-Royce is a beauty and sailed along all day
like a gondola.
The Prime Minister had set up his office in the Mayor's room at the
Hôtel de Ville, which I found in an uproar because of the bombs. The
Prime Minister was said to be at Headquarters, at Furnes, across the
Belgian frontier, and I was urged to go there to see him. We made
twenty-one kilometers there, in time to find that little town in a great
state of excitement, because three big shells had come from nobody knew
where, and burst by the railroad station.
But the Prime Minister was not there, and it was dark, so we gathered up
a guide and set off for la Panne, where the King and Queen are living.
Neither of them was there; nobody but a gendarme on duty. The King was
off with the troops and the Queen was looking after the wounded, who
have overflowed all the hospitals. In the past week--just this one
engagement--the Belgians have suffered 12,000 casualties.
The road from Furnes to la Panne and back lay close behind the lines, so
that we could hear the steady roar of the fighting and see the bursting
shells, particularly those from the British ships, which made a
tremendous flash and roar.
We came on back to town, being stopped every minute by French outposts,
and got to this hostelry at seven-thirty. While I was cleaning up, the
Prime Minister came in and claimed me for dinner. He had his secretary,
Count Lichtervelde, A.B., who is here looking after the wounded, and a
couple of officers. And _then_ we talked until the hands dropped off the
clock and I was nearly dead for sleep. Then I took A.B. home to her
hospital, through the streets darkened for the benefit of Count
Zeppelin, and _now_ I _am_ ready for my rest.
I have plans for to-morrow, but shall see what happens to them when I
see the Prime Minister in the morning.
* * * * *
_October 29th._--Still at Dunkerque.
Another busy and interesting day, and if all goes well, I shall be back
in London to-morrow night.
I was up early, did a little writing, and went over to see the Prime
Minister, who was waiting for me. Despatched my business with him in
short order, to my complete satisfaction. He is a trump, and it is a joy
to do business with him, even at a time when he is hounded, as he is
now.
He said the King was out with the troops, but had sent in to say he
wanted to see me and would come in to headquarters at Furnes at
four-thirty for that purpose. The Queen had also sent word in that she
wanted to see me. She was busy looking after the wounded, but said she
would come to la Panne at four. That suited me, although I was in some
doubt as to how I would be able to make connections between the two
audiences.
Last night I had talked of going out to look at the fighting, and A.B.
had offered to conduct me. I had not taken the offer very seriously, but
when I got back to the hotel after seeing the Prime Minister, she was
there in a big racing car, with a crack chauffeur, ready for the jaunt.
She was in her campaign kit of knickers, with a long rain-coat and a big
knitted cap, and an entrancing boy she made. Mr. and Mrs. W---- had
asked to go along, and were in their car with Barbaçon, an aide-de-camp
of the Prime Minister. Monsieur de Broqueville came out quite seriously
and begged A.B. not to lead me into danger, whereat everybody had a good
laugh.
We made quick time to Furnes and drew up before Headquarters, where we
learned what was known of the lay of the land and the points of the
front we could reach without getting in the way. The Belgians, who had
for ten days held the line of the Yser from Nieuport to Dixmude, waiting
for reinforcements to come up, had been obliged to fall back to the line
of the railroad, which forms the chord of the arc, and had inundated the
intervening territory to impede the German advance. French and English
troops were being brought up in large numbers to relieve the Belgians,
who have lost in killed and wounded nearly a third of the 50,000 men
engaged.
While waiting for some definite news to be brought in for us, we climbed
to the top of the high tower of the market next the Hôtel de Ville, for
a look at the battle line. It was pretty misty, but we could see the
smoke of shrapnel and of the big shells from the English ships, which
were enfilading the German right.
The staircase up this tower was a crazy thing, with rotten steps and
places where two or three steps were missing altogether. It was bad
enough going up where we could take hold and pull ourselves up, but it
was far worse going down, because we were ordered down in a hurry and
all came piling down in a steady stream. There were squeaks and screams
at the bad moments, but we did manage to get down without mishap and
take stock of ourselves.
We found some German prisoners lying on the straw in the entrance hall,
and stopped to speak to them. They said that their troops were very
tired from long, hard fighting, but that they had plenty of men. They
seemed rather depressed themselves.
By the time we got down, our information had come and we set off through
a welter of transport trains, artillery, ambulances, marching troops,
and goodness knows what else, in the direction of X----. When we got
within a couple of kilometers of the place, an officer stopped us and
asked if we knew where we were going. He shrugged his shoulders when we
said we did, and let us go straight into it. When we were bowling along
about one kilometer from the town, three shells burst at once, about two
hundred yards to our left, and we stopped to see what was toward. A
hundred yards ahead to the right of the road was a battery of five big
guns, and the Germans were evidently trying to get their range. The
shells kept falling to the left, near a group of farm-houses, and as
some of the spent balls of shrapnel kept rolling around near us, we
decided we might as well go and see the big guns from nearer to.
In the shelter of the farm-houses were fifty or sixty men, some of them
cooking their lunch, others sleeping, all quite oblivious of the roar of
bursting shrapnel and the spattering of the bullets near by. And a few
months ago probably any of these men would have been frightened into a
fit by a shell bursting in his neighbourhood. It is wonderful how soon
people become contemptuous of danger. The horses that were tethered by
the roadside seemed to take it all as a matter of course, and munched
away at their hay, as though all the world were at peace. A wobbly cart
came creaking by with an infantryman, who had had a good part of his
face shot away. He had been bandaged after a fashion and sat up blinking
at us stupidly as the cart lumbered by, bumping into holes and sliding
into ruts.
I was not keen on staying longer than was necessary to see what was
there, but W.---- was very deliberate and not to be budged for more than
half an hour. We finally got him started by calling his attention to the
spent balls, which make a tremendous singing noise, but do no harm. The
only really safe thing in the neighbourhood was what did the trick. The
Germans were making a furious attack, evidently determined to break the
line before the fresh troops could be brought up, and the cannonading
was terrific. The whole front as far as we could see in either direction
was a line of puffs of smoke from bursting shrapnel and black spouts of
earth from exploding shells. The crackle of the _mitrailleuses_ rippled
up and down the whole line. The Belgians were pounding back as hard as
they could and the noise was deafening. Finally, when we decided to
leave, the officer in command of the battery loaded all five guns at
once and fired a salvo for our benefit. The great shells tore away,
roaring like so many express trains, and screaming like beasts in
agony--a terrifying combination. My ears ache yet. It was getting hotter
every minute and the Germans were evidently getting a better idea of the
range, for the shells began falling pretty close on the other side, and
I was quieter in my mind when we went back to our cars and pulled out of
the actual line. We took a road a few hundred yards back, parallel with
the lines, and drove along slowly, watching the effect of the shell
fire, until we absolutely had to start back for lunch. On the way we
stopped at a peasant's hut, and said hello to Jack Reyntiens.
When we got back to the hotel, about half an hour late for lunch, we
found the Prime Minister waiting for us. At the door, in addition to the
usual sentry, there were two privates of the _chasseurs à cheval_, one
wearing a commander's star of the Legion of Honor. They saluted and
smiled, and I bowed and went on in to my meal. They came in after me,
still smiling, and I was taxed with not recognising them. They were the
Duc d'Ursel and --------, the heads of their respective houses, who had
enlisted, and are still fighting as privates. They had just been
relieved and were on their way to the rear, where the Belgian army is
being reformed and rested.
As soon as we had got through, I had to start back for my audience of
the Queen. W.---- took me out to la Panne, where we found the Villa on
the sand dunes, a little way back of the lines. There were a couple of
gendarmes on duty, the King's Secretary, and the Countess de
Caraman-Chimay, the one Lady-in-Waiting. I had just got inside when the
door opened and the King came in. He had heard I was coming to see the
Queen and had motored down from Furnes. I was able to satisfy him in a
few minutes on the points he had wanted to see me about and then he
questioned me about friends in Brussels. I suggested to him that it
would probably help our committee in raising funds if he would write an
appeal for help from America. He fell in with the idea at once, and
together we got out an appeal that is to be sent across the water. Where
we sat we could see the British ships shelling the Germans, and the
windows of the dining-room were rattling steadily. The King stood beside
the table with his finger tips resting on the cloth, watching the stuff
ground out word by word. I looked up at him once, but could not bear to
do it again--it was the saddest face one can imagine, but not a word of
complaint was breathed.
Just as we were finishing, the Queen came and bade us in to tea. She was
supposed to wait for her Lady-in-Waiting to bring me, but didn't. The
King stayed only a minute or two and then said he must be getting back
to Headquarters, where he would see me later.
I suggested to the Queen that she, too, make an appeal to the women of
America, to which she agreed. Another appeal was prepared for her, and
it, too, will be sent to America by the first post.
The Queen had wanted to see me about the subject of surgeons for the
Belgian army. The Belgian surgeons in the Brussels hospitals have been
replaced by Germans, and have nothing to do, although they are
desperately needed here. The Queen was terribly depressed about the
condition of the wounded. There are so few surgeons, and such tremendous
numbers of wounded, that they cannot by any possibility be properly
cared for. Legs and arms are being ruthlessly amputated in hundreds of
cases where they could be saved by a careful operation. Careful
operations are, of course, out of the question, with the wounded being
dumped in every minute by the score. In these little frontier towns
there are no hospital facilities to speak of, and the poor devils are
lucky if they get a bed of straw under any sort of roof, and medical
attendance, within twenty-four hours. We went to see one hospital in a
near-by Villa, and I hope I shall never again have to go through such an
ordeal. Such suffering and such lack of comforts I have never seen, but
I take off my hat to the nerve of the wounded, and the nurses, most of
them the best class of Belgian women, used to every luxury and getting
none.
The Queen gave me tea, and one of her small supply of cigarettes, and we
talked until after dark. The monitors off shore had been joined by a
battleship, and the row was terrific and rendered conversation
difficult.
The Queen was still full of courage and said that as long as there was
one square foot of Belgian soil free of Germans, she would be on it. She
said it simply, in answer to a question from me, but there was a big
force of courage and determination behind it. As I was not dismissed, I
finally took it on myself to go, and the Queen came with me to the door
and sent me on my way. She stood in the lighted doorway until I reached
the motor, and then turned slowly and went in--a delicate little woman
with a lion's heart. Inglebleek and the Countess de Caraman-Chimay came
out after we had cranked the car, and gave me messages for their
families and friends. It is a pretty hard change for these people, who
three months ago were leading such a dull, comfortable life, but they
have risen to it with fine spirit.
The King was with his staff, studying the maps and despatches, when I
got to Furnes, and I was shown the whole situation--most interesting on
the large scale maps that show every farm-house and pathway. I was to go
back to Dunkerque with Monsieur de Broqueville, so waited while they
discussed the events of the day and plans for to-morrow.
While they talked reinforcements were pouring through the town, with
great rumbling of artillery and blowing of trumpets. It was a comforting
sound, as it presaged some relief for the Belgians in their
heartbreaking stand.
There was comfort in riding back through the night with the Prime
Minister, for there was no long examination of papers, etc. When we came
to a post, the aide-de-camp would switch on a strong light in the car,
the sentries would salute, and on we would go at a great gait.
Seemingly I was boarding with Monsieur de Broqueville, as I was led back
to dine with him.
To-morrow I am off to London. Loewenstein, a young Brussels banker, is
to take me over in his racing car, which is a useful institution these
days. We take along his mother-in-law, Madame Misonne, and A.B. It
means getting up at five to motor to Calais to catch the boat. There the
car will be slung aboard, so that we can be whisked up to London without
waiting for a train.
* * * * *
_On board S.S. "Orange Nassau," North Sea, November 2, 1914._--On Friday
morning we were called before dawn, and got under way as per
schedule--Loewenstein, Madame Misonne, A.B., and I. We made good time,
over slippery roads, to Calais, despite frequent stops to have our
papers examined by posts, and got to the dock some twenty minutes before
the steamer sailed. The car was hoisted aboard, and we rode across in
it. Frederick Palmer was on board, returning in disgust after having
been just that far toward the front.
Our suicide wagon was swung off onto the dock without loss of time, and
we sped away toward London while our fellow-passengers were doomed to
wait for all sorts of formalities. It was a wild ride. At times we were
doing as high as one hundred and thirty kilometers an hour over winding
English roads, and I was somewhat relieved when I was dropped at the
Embassy, safe and sound.
I got off some telegrams about my trip, and was told the Ambassador
wanted to see me. Hoover was with him, and I turned over to them the
appeals from the King and Queen.
Jack Scranton decided to come back to Brussels with me, to give me a
hand in Legation work, and spent the morning packing enough plunder to
see him through a siege of three or four years. A.B. came on to London
to see her brother who is seriously wounded and in hospital. Now her
family want her to return to Brussels and have placed her in my care for
the journey.
This morning we had a crowd at the station to see us off. Countess
N.---- has also come along, and was entrusted to our care. A.B.'s family
was there in force to say good-bye, so altogether the casual observer
might have inferred that we were popular.
* * * * *
_Brussels, November 5th._--We were met in Flushing by our Consular
Agent, who put us through the customs and onto the train.
No motor was waiting for us at Rosendaal, and we had a hard time getting
shelter for the night. Finally we succeeded in getting a room for the
two women in a little, third-rate hotel, and Jack and I slept on the
floor of a sitting-room in the little Hôtel Central. I was so dog-tired
that I slept like a log, wrapped up in my fur coat.
While we were having coffee, M. de Leval came up in my little car. He
had been to Rotterdam in connection with the first shipment of food, and
thought he would find me alone. He had bought a lot of gasoline in
Breda, to be called for, so we could take no luggage. We found another
car leaving for Brussels at noon, and loaded it up with Countess N.,
---- Jack and the luggage, while M. de L. and I took A.B. and the mail
bags, and started by way of Breda. We came through Aerschot and stopped
for a stretch and to look about.
We walked about the streets for a time, and stopped in a shop to ask for
a drink of water. After giving it to us, the proprietor asked if we
would like to see the state the Germans had left things in. He led us
back into his living quarters, opened a door bearing an inscription to
the effect that it was an officers' mess, and let us in. I never have
seen a more complete mess. Everything in the place was smashed, and the
whole room was filthy. The officers had left only a few days before and
had taken pains to break everything before they went. Obscene remarks
were chalked on the walls, and the pictures were improved with heavy
attempts at fun. I always used to think that the term "officer and
gentleman" was redundant, but now I begin to understand the need for it.
The church was also in a bad state. The doors have nearly all been
battered down. The wooden Gothic statues in the nave have been smashed
or destroyed by fire. The altars and confessionals were wantonly
destroyed. The collection boxes had been pried open and emptied. We were
told that the holy-water font and the vestments of the priests had been
profaned and befouled. It is not a pretty sight.