he is informed by the Generals commanding the troops occupying
French territory that cholera is raging fiercely among the allied
troops and that there is the greatest danger in crossing the lines
or entering enemy territory.
We call upon the Belgian population not to infringe this notice.
Those who do not comply with this notice will be brought before the
Imperial Officers of Justice and we warn them that the penalty of
death may be inflicted upon them.]
There is no end to the stories of individual atrocities. One is that
Monsieur Wasseige, director of one of the banks, was seized by the
Germans, who demanded that he should open the safes. He flatly refused
to do this, even under threat of death. Finally he was led with his two
eldest sons to the Place d'Armes and placed with more than one hundred
others, who were then killed with machine guns. Monsieur Wasseige's
three youngest children were brought to the spot by German soldiers, and
compelled to witness the murder of their father and two brothers.
From Dinant we struck across country through Phillipeville and some
little by-roads to Rance, where we were expected at the house of G.
D----. He and his wife and their little girl of five had just returned
that morning to receive us, but the place was brightly lighted and as
completely prepared as though they had been there all the time. It was a
lovely old place, and we were soon made comfortable. German officers
have occupied it most of the time, and it required a good deal of
cleaning and repairing after they left, but fortunately this work had
just been completed, and we had a chance to enjoy the place before any
more enforced guests appeared. One of the Imperial princelings had been
there for one night, and his name was chalked on the door of his room.
He had been _très aimable_, and when he left had taken D----'s motor
with him.
We took a tramp around the town in a biting wind, and looked at some of
the houses of our neighbours. Some of them were almost wrecked after
having served as quarters for troops for varying periods. From others
all the furniture had been taken away and shipped back to Germany. One
man showed us a card which he had found in the frame of one of his best
pictures. It was the card of a German officer, and under the name was
written an order to send the picture to a certain address in Berlin. The
picture was gone, but the frame and card were still there and are being
kept against the day of reckoning--if any. We were shown several little
safes which had been pried open and looted, and were told the usual set
of stories of what had happened when the army went through. Some of the
things would be hard to believe if one did not hear them from the lips
of people who are reliable and who live in such widely separated parts
of the country at a time when communications are almost impossible.
We had a good and ingeniously arranged dinner. All sorts of ordinary
foods are not to be had in this part of the country, and our hostess
had, by able thinking, arranged a meal which skillfully concealed the
things that were lacking. Among other things, I observed that we had a
series of most delicious wines--for our host of that evening also had a
wonderful cellar. They had told us just before dinner that the Germans
had taken an inventory of their wines and had forbidden them to touch
another drop, so I wondered whether they were not incurring some risk in
order to give us the wine that they considered indispensable. When I
asked our hostess, she told me that it was very simple, that all they
needed to do was to drink a part of several bottles, refill them
partially with water, seal them, and put them back in the cellars; she
said scornfully that "_les Boches_ don't know one wine from another,"
and had not yet been able to detect the fraud. They had a lot of cheap
champagne in the cellar and had been filling them up with that, as they
prefer any champagne to the best vintage Burgundies. Once in a while
there is a little satisfaction reserved for a Belgian.
We were called at daybreak and were on the road at eight o'clock, taking
in a series of small villages which had been destroyed, and talking with
the few people to be found about the place. This part of Belgium is far
worse than the northern part, where the people can get away with
comparative ease to one of the larger towns and come back now and then
to look after their crops. Here one village after another is wiped out,
and the peasants have no place to go unless they travel so far that
there is no hope of returning, perhaps for months together. It will be a
great problem to provide shelter for these people so that they can
return.
We cut through Beaumont, and then took the main road to Mons, where we
arrived in the middle of the morning. On the way we had heard that the
English nurses had not yet been released, so I made for the military
headquarters and saw the commandant. It was evident that they had been
hauled over the coals for the way they had behaved when Jack was there,
for I never saw such politeness in any headquarters. I was preceded by
bowing and unctuous soldiers and non-commissioned officers, all the way
from the door to the Presence, and was received by the old man standing.
He was most solicitous for my comfort and offered me everything but the
freedom of the city. He said that he had not received a word of
instructions until a few minutes before my arrival, but that he was now
able to give the young ladies their liberty and turn them over to me. In
order to get them, I was prayed to go over to the headquarters of the
military governor of the Province, and an officer was assigned to
accompany me. While we were there, the officer who had been so insulting
to Jack and to Miss Hozier came into the room, took one look at us, and
scuttled for safety. We heard afterward that he had been ordered to
apologise for his behaviour.
At the door of the Provincial headquarters I found another car flying
the Legation flag, and Monsieur de Leval came charging out into my arms.
There had been a pretty hot time about the nurses and he had finally
been sent down to get them out. In a few minutes we had them sitting on
a bench in the Governor's office, while Kracker, who used to be one of
the Secretaries of the German Legation here, was making out their
_laisser-passers_ to come to Brussels. They were a happy crowd, but
pretty well done up by the treatment they had had.
When they were all fixed I went in and asked for the release of Miss
Bradford, another English nurse, who had been in prison in Mons and
Charleroi for the past five weeks. I learned of her imprisonment almost
by accident while we were waiting for the passports. After some argument
it was granted, and I went with a soldier to the prison to get her out.
I had not expected to find anything very luxurious, but I was shocked
when I saw the place. It was the most severe, repressive penitentiary in
the country--still filled with common criminals--and the English nurse
was given the same treatment and rations as the worst murderer of the
lot. There was the usual row with the man in charge of the place, and
finally a soldier was despatched, to tell the young woman she could get
ready to go. While she was getting ready, the director of the prison
took me around and showed me with great pride things that made me
shiver. He said, however, that it was an outrage to put a woman in such
a place. The prisoners who do the work of the prison were going about
the corridors under guard, each one wearing a dirty brown mask covering
his entire head, and with only the smallest of slits for his eyes. They
are never allowed to see each other's faces or to speak to one another.
I was taken up to the chapel, where each man is herded into a little box
like a confessional and locked in so that he cannot see his neighbour,
and can only look up toward the raised altar in the centre, where he can
see the priest. The school was arranged in the same way, and was shown
with equal pride. I fear the jailer thought me lacking in appreciation.
I finally got the young woman out, nearly hysterical, and took her up to
the headquarters, and from there to the hotel, where Monsieur de Leval
had gathered his charges for luncheon. They were rapidly recovering
their old-time spirits, and were chattering away like a lot of magpies.
While I was fussing about with them, I had sent my friends and
fellow-travellers ahead, and now left the flock of nurses in the hands
of Monsieur de Leval, to be conveyed by tram back to Brussels, while I
tried to catch up with my party at the château of Monsieur Warroqué, at
Mariemont. I made as much speed as my little car was capable of, but it
was nearly two o'clock when I arrived.
The old château of Mariemont is one of those built by Louis XIV, when he
set out to have one for each month of the year. This was his place for
August. It had been destroyed, and the new one is built near the ruins,
but the large park is as it has been for a long time, and a lovely place
it is. There were about twenty at table when we arrived, and places were
ready for us. More fine wines, and this time to show that we were in the
house of a connoisseur, the flunky, in pouring out the precious stuff,
would whisper in your ear the name and vintage. Warroqué owns a lot of
the coal mines and other properties and is apparently greatly loved by
the people. When the Germans came, they seized him as a hostage, but the
people became so threatening that he was released. How many men in his
position could have counted on that much devotion?
Immediately after luncheon we shoved off and made through the rain for
Charleroi, where we took a look at the damage done to the town. It was
already dark and we then turned toward Brussels and burned up the road,
getting to the Legation at half-past six, to find all the nurses sitting
up, having tea with Mrs. Whitlock and the Minister.
* * * * *
_Brussels, December 10, 1914_--Yesterday afternoon we received the call
of General Freiherr von Bissing, Governor General in Belgium, and of
General Freiherr von Kraewel, Military Governor of Brussels. They were
accompanied by their suites in full regalia. The military men were most
affable, but we did not get any farther than tea and cigarettes. They
talked mournfully of the war and said they wished to goodness the whole
thing was over. It was a great contrast to the cock-sure talk at the
beginning of the war. Von Bissing said that there were hospitals in
every village in Germany and that they were all filled with wounded. It
is becoming clearer every day that the Germans, as well as others, are
getting thoroughly sick and tired of the whole business and would give a
lot to end it.
A little while ago the _London Times_ cost as high as two hundred
francs. It has been going down steadily, until it can be had now for
four francs and sometimes for as little as two. The penalties are very
severe, but the supply keeps up, although the blockade runners are being
picked up every day.
* * * * *
_Brussels, December 11, 1914_.--This afternoon late B---- brought an
uncle to see me, to talk about conditions in France between the Belgian
frontier and the German lines. Those poor people cannot, of course, get
anything from the heart of France, and as the Belgian frontier is closed
tight by the Germans, they are already starving. It looks very much as
though we should have to extend the scope of our work, so as to look
after them, too. We hear very little news from that part of the country,
but from what we do hear, conditions must be frightful. In one little
town Mr. K---- came through, only twenty out of five hundred houses are
said to be standing. He says that the people are not permitted to leave
the place and are living in the cellars and ruins in great misery and
practically without food.
Out of a clear sky comes a new trouble for the country. The German
Government has come down with a demand for money on a scale that leaves
them speechless. The Belgians are ordered to make a forced payment each
month of forty millions of francs, for twelve months. The two first
payments are to be made by the 15th of next month, and the subsequent
installments on the 10th of succeeding months. It is a staggering total,
but the German authorities are deaf to appeals, and the Provinces will
have to get together and raise the money in some way.
[Publisher's note: An entry from a later part of Mr. Gibson's journal
gives a picture of the Belgian spirit under German rule and one of the
few methods of retaliation they had against German oppression.
The Belgians are getting a good deal of quiet pleasure these days
from a clandestine newspaper called _La Libre Belgique_ which is
published almost in the shadow of the Kommandantur. It is a little
four-page paper that is published "every now and then" and says
anything it likes about the "Occupant." It also publishes news and
texts that are barred from the censored press. It is distributed in
a mysterious way that still has the Germans guessing, although they
have detailed their cleverest sleuths to the task of hunting down
the paper and those responsible for its publication. Every number
is delivered to all the more important German officials in Brussels
and, more remarkable still, it appears without fail upon the desk
of the Governor-General--in that sanctum guarded like the vaults of
the Bank of England. Sometimes it appears in the letter-box in the
guise of a letter from Germany; sometimes it is thrown in the
window; sometimes it is delivered by an orderly with a bundle of
official despatches; sometimes it merely appears from nowhere. But
it never fails to reach the Governor-General. He never fails to
read it and to wax wroth over its contents. Large rewards have been
offered for information about the people who are writing and
printing the paper. The Germans rage publicly, which only adds to
the pleasure that the Belgians get from their little enterprise.
My copy reaches me regularly and always in some weird way as in the
case of the Germans. I don't know who my friend is that sends me
the paper. Whoever he is I am much obliged.]
* * * * *
_Brussels, December 14, 1914_--Yesterday afternoon late, after a session
at C.R.B.[10] headquarters, I dropped in for a cup of tea with Baronne
Q----. There was a fine circle of gossip and I learned all the spicy
stuff. The husband of Mme. de F---- had been in prison for a month,
having been pulled out of a motor on his way to the frontier, and found
with letters on him. He got out on Thursday and they are quite proud of
themselves. They were having a fine time discussing the predicament of
the H---- family. The Countess was arrested last week because she, too,
was caught carrying letters. She was released from prison and allowed to
return home. Now the Germans have placed sentries before the house and
allow no one to enter or leave: The old gentleman is also locked up
there. The servants have been driven out, and are not even permitted to
bring meals to their _patrons_, who are dependent on what they are given
to eat by the German soldiers. There is no charge against them at
present, so they have no idea as to how long the present charming
situation will last. There was a great amount of gossip and the right
amount of tea and cakes, so I had an enjoyable half hour.
[Footnote 10: Commission for Relief in Belgium. This name was given the
original American Relief Committee within a few weeks of its
foundation.]
Yesterday morning Grant-Watson was put aboard a train and taken to
Berlin, where he is to be guarded as a prisoner of war. It is all most
outrageous, as Lancken definitely promised that he would not be
molested. Moral: get just as far away from these people as you can,
while you can, in the knowledge that if they "change their mind,"
promises won't count.
Jeffes is left here for the present and may be released. We shall try to
get him off, but in view of what has already happened, cannot be very
confident. Jeffes is philosophical and uncomplaining, but naturally is
not very happy.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Appeal of the Queen of the Belgians for help from
America
I have learned with gratification of the noble and effective work
being done by American citizens and officials on behalf of my
stricken people. I confidently hope that their efforts will receive
that ungrudging support which we have learned to expect from the
generous womanhood of America.
We mothers of Belgium no less than the mothers of America have for
generations instilled in our children the instincts and the love of
peace. We asked no greater boon than to live in peace and friendship
with all the world. We have provoked no war, yet in defense of our
hearthstones, our country has been laid waste from end to end.
The flow of commerce has ceased and my people are faced with famine.
The terrors of starvation with its consequences of disease and
violence menace the unoffending civilian population--the aged, the
infirm, the women and the children.
American officials and citizens in Belgium and England, alive to
their country's traditions, have created an organization under the
protection of their government and are already sending food to my
people. I hope that they may receive the fullest sympathy and aid
from every side.
I need not say that I and my people shall always hold in grateful
remembrance the proven friendship of America in this hour of need.
Elisabeth.]
_Brussels, Sunday, December 20, 1914_--Jack got off to London yesterday
after a visit of six weeks. Had it not been for the nearness of
Christmas and the knowledge that he was needed at home, he would have
been prepared to stay on indefinitely. His grief at leaving was genuine.
He invested heavily in flowers and chocolates for the people who had
been nice to him, endowed all the servants, and left amid the cheers and
sobs of the populace. He is a good sort, and I was sorry to see him go.
By this time he is probably sitting up in London, telling them all about
it.
To-day I went up to Antwerp to bring back our old motor. Left a little
before noon, after tidying up my desk, and took my two Spanish
colleagues, San Esteban and Molina, along for company. I had the passes
and away we went by way of Malines, arriving in time for a late lunch.
Antwerp is completely Germanised already. We heard hardly a word of
French anywhere--even the hotel waiters speaking only hotel French. The
crowd in the restaurant of the Webber was exclusively German, and there
was not a word of French on the menu.
The Germans took over the garage where our car was left the day they
came in, and there I discovered what was left of the old machine. The
sentries on guard at the door reluctantly let us in, and the poor
proprietor of the garage led us to the place where our car has stood
since the fall of Antwerp. The soldiers have removed two of the tires,
the lamps, cushions, extra wheels, speedometer, tail lights, tool box,
and had smashed most of the other fixings they could not take off. In
view of the fact that my return trip to Brussels at the time of the
bombardment was for the purpose of bringing the plans of the city to the
Germans, so that they would have knowledge of the location of the public
monuments and could spare them, it seems rather rough that they should
repay us by smashing our motor. I think we shall make some remarks to
them to this effect to-morrow, and intimate that it is up to them to
have the car repaired and returned to us in good shape.
The first group of Americans to work on the relief came into Belgium
this month. They are, for the most part, Rhodes Scholars who were at
Oxford, and responded instantly to Hoover's appeal. They are a picked
crew, and have gone into the work with enthusiasm. And it takes a lot of
enthusiasm to get through the sort of pioneer work they have to do. They
have none of the thrill of the fellows who have gone into the flying
corps or the ambulance service. They have ahead of them a long winter of
motoring about the country in all sorts of weather, wrangling with
millers and stevedores, checking cargoes and costs, keeping the peace
between the Belgians and the German authorities, observing the rules of
the game toward everybody concerned, and above all, keeping neutral. It
is no small undertaking for a lot of youngsters hardly out of college,
but so far they have done splendidly.
The one I see the most of is Edward Curtis, who sails back and forth to
Holland as courier of the Commission. He was at Cambridge when the war
broke out, and after working on Hoover's London Committee to help
stranded Americans get home, he came on over here and fell to. He exudes
silence and discretion, but does not miss any fun or any chance to
advance the general cause. Of course it is taking the Germans some time
to learn his system. He is absolutely square with them, and gets a
certain amount of fun out of their determined efforts to find some sort
of contraband on him. They can hardly conceive of his being honest, and
think his seeming frankness is merely an unusually clever dodge to cover
up his transgressions.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Julius Van Hee, American Vice-Consul at Ghent]
[Illustration: Lewis Richards]
[Illustration: A Brussels soup-kitchen run by volunteers]
[Illustration: Meals served to the children in the schools]
_Brussels, December 21, 1914_.--Yesterday Brussels awoke from the calm
in which it had been plunged for some time, when a couple of French
aviators came sailing overhead and dropped six bombs on the railroad
yards at Etterbeck. I was away at Antwerp and did not see it, but
everybody else of the population of 700,000 Bruxellois did, and each one
of them has given me a detailed account of it. The German forces did
their level best to bring the bird men down with shrapnel, but they were
flying high enough for safety. They seem to have hit their mark and torn
up the switches, etc., in a very satisfactory way. For three or four
days we have been hearing the big guns again, each day more distinctly;
but we don't know what it means. The Germans explain it on the ground
that they are testing guns.
Mr. and Mrs. Hoover arrived last night, bringing Frederick Palmer with
them. We dined together at the Palace. They were full of news, both war
and shop, and I sat and talked with them until after eleven, greatly to
the prejudice of my work. Had to stay up and grind until nearly two.
Curtis, who came back last night, says that Jack was arrested at Antwerp
on his way out, because he had Folkstone labels on his bags. It took him
so long to explain away his suspicious belongings that he barely caught
the last train from Rosendaal to Flushing. He seems to be destined to a
certain amount of arrest now and then.
Hoover turned up at the Legation this morning at a little after nine,
and he and the Minister and I talked steadily for three hours and a
half.
Despite the roar of work at the Legation, I went off after lunch with
Mrs. Whitlock and did some Xmas shopping--ordered some flowers and
chocolates. Went out and dropped Mrs. Whitlock at Mrs. B----'s, to help
decorate the tree she is going to have for the English children here.
B---- is a prisoner at Ruhleben, and will probably be there
indefinitely, but his wife is a trump. She had a cheery letter from him,
saying that he and his companions in misery had organised a theatrical
troupe, and were going soon to produce _The Importance of Being
Earnest_.
* * * * *
_Brussels, Christmas, 1914_--- This is the weirdest Christmas that ever
was--with no one so much as thinking of saying "Merry Christmas."
Everything is so completely overshadowed by the war, that had it not
been for the children, we should have let it go unnoticed.
Yesterday evening there was a dinner at the Legation--Bicknell, Rose and
James, the Hoovers and Frederick Palmer. Although there was a bunch of
mistletoe over the table, it did not seem a bit Christmasy, but just an
ordinary good dinner with much interesting talk.