BestLightNovel.com

A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium Part 15

A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium - BestLightNovel.com

You’re reading novel A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium Part 15 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

I was rather against putting up the white flag, but both Herwarth and the naval officer were most insistent that I should do so, saying that the country between the lines was filled with patrols, both Belgian and German; that they felt that hostilities were to be commenced at any moment, and that any one who ventured into the district between the lines would stand a fine chance of being shot unless he carried a conciliatory emblem. They rigged up a long pole on the side of the car with a white flag about six feet square, and bidding a glad farewell to the representatives of Hohenzollern and Company, we started out to feel our way into Malines. About 500 yards beyond the bridge we sighted two Belgian bicycle patrols who, on seeing us, jumped off their machines and ran into an abandoned farmhouse. Knowing that they were at high tension, we crept up very slowly so that they might have a good look at us before trying their marksmans.h.i.+p. They were peeking over the window-ledge, with their rifles trained at us; but after a good look at the black clothes and white whiskers of M. de Woeste they pulled in their weapons and waved us to go ahead. About a kilometer farther on, we came around a turn in the road and nearly ran into the first Belgian outpost--six men and an officer. As we came around upon them they scurried behind stone walls and trees, and gave us the usual pleasant greeting of levelled rifles. As the most prudent things to do under such circ.u.mstances, the car was stopped, and I went ahead to parley. The officer proved to be young Z----. He turned quite white when he got a good look at me, and remarked that it was fortunate they had not had a sight of us farther down the road, as we would certainly have been filled with lead.

He said that the Germans had tried three times that morning to get through the lines in cars flying the white flag, in one instance at least, with a machine-gun in the car. As a result of this, the outposts had orders not to take any chance for the rest of the time intervening before the attack which was expected to begin at any minute.

Far be it from me to suggest that our friends had me put up the white flag, so as to offer proof of the Belgian savagery in firing on the white flag.

After this little experience, we took in our white flag and made the rest of our trip without trouble. We found outposts about every hundred yards, and were stopped at the point of the rifle each time; but as we got farther away from the outer lines the behaviour of the posts was noticeably less nervous, and when we got into Malines the mere sight of our papers was sufficient to let us freely through.

Since my last trip, the Belgians have been working steadily at their preparations for defence, and have accomplished wonders. Their large tracts of land, some of them forming natural routes, for entry between the forts, have been inundated with water from the ca.n.a.ls so as to be quite impa.s.sable. Tremendous barbed wire entanglements form a broad barrier all around the outer and inner fortifications; they are so thick and so strongly braced that artillery fire would be practically useless against them, and cutting with wire nippers would be so slow that it could not be accomplished without a horrible loss of men.

There are any number of huge searchlights placed on the fortifications to sweep the skies for Zeppelins. Since my last visit, one Zeppelin had succeeded in getting over the town, but was surprised and dropped its whole cargo of 15 bombs in a distance of a few hundred yards, taking no lives and doing little material damage. Since then, several big craft have appeared at night, but have always been frightened away by the searchlights and the fire of the small vertical guns which have been ready for them.

All the villages which cl.u.s.ter around the fortifications have been razed to the ground, and the avenues of big trees have been cut down; it is a pretty dreadful sight.

I left M. de Woeste at the Grand Hotel, where the Cabinet is staying, and then made for the Saint Antoine. Had lunch with Sir Francis Villiers and Colonel Fairholme, and got my first real news since the Prussian headquarters stopped issuing bulletins of German victories. Sir Francis showed me the telegrams he had received about the German check and retreat in France; and Prince Koudacheff, the Russian Minister, who joined us for coffee, vied with him by showing me his telegrams about the Russian advance in Eastern Prussia and in Austria.

After luncheon, I had some pow-wows on the subject that had brought me, and went to see various people for whom I had messages. They are a lot more cheerful than the last time I was in Antwerp, and are ready for anything.

From the Foreign Office, I went to the Consulate General, where I found a mountain of letters and telegrams. Got off my cables, and answered as much of the other correspondence as was absolutely necessary--no more.

On my way back to the hotel, I ran into General Jungbluth coming out of the Palace, and was promptly hauled inside for gossip.

The Queen, who has very properly come back from England, walked in on us and stopped to hear the news from Brussels.

I got back to the hotel, and found all the colleagues waiting for me to hear the latest news from Brussels. I played my part, and was nearly torn to pieces in their eagerness for news from the town where there is none. They were all there except the Papal Nuncio, who is most unhappy in the midst of war's alarms and hardly budges from the episcopal palace.

After dinner I was again asked to go to the Grand Hotel to see the Prime Minister. He had nothing startling to say, but was anxious to know what was going on in Brussels. He showed me his telegrams from France, England and Russia, and his maps with the recent movements worked out with little flags.

Monsieur de Brocqueville told me an interesting incident that had taken place at Ghent. It seems that when the Germans arrived there, they sent in an officer and several soldiers to arrange for requisitions, etc., a promise having been given that they would not be molested. Of course, the whole town was on the _qui vive_ and everybody had been warned to refrain from incurring their displeasure. Just as the German motor pa.s.sed in front of our Consulate, a Belgian armoured car came charging in from Antwerp, knowing nothing of the presence of the Germans, and upon seeing the enemy uniform, opened fire, wounding the officer and one of the men.

That was enough to start things, and the town would probably be in ruins to-day but for the quick thinking and action of Van Hee, the American Vice-Consul. He plunged down the staircase, seized the Burgomaster, who happened to be present, pushed him into a motor with the wounded men and went straight to the German headquarters to explain that the attack had been made by two men from Antwerp who knew nothing of the agreement reached between the city and the German forces, and to plead that no reprisals should be made upon the city. The general said that he was prepared to accept the statement of the Vice-Consul on this matter, and that he would not therefore visit retribution on the town if the requisitions which he had demanded were promptly furnished. The requisitions were heavy, and he was apparently afraid that they might not be sent. He said that he would send in troops to occupy the town until the supplies requisitioned were actually in his possession, but finally agreed to refrain from doing so on condition that the Vice-Consul should give his word of honour that the supplies should be forthcoming.

Van Hee took this responsibility, and the General agreed to keep his troops outside the town. When they got back to Ghent, the Military Governor disavowed the arrangement on the ground that the Burgomaster had no right to enter into an agreement with the Germans and that he, as Military Governor, was the only one with any authority to deal with them. He therefore declared that no supplies should be sent. The Burgomaster telegraphed the Prime Minister in Antwerp, and placed the entire situation before him, and Monsieur de Brocqueville promptly telegraphed back that since the American Vice-Consul had given his word of honour to the German General it was impossible to disavow the agreement, and that the supplies should be sent out immediately. This was a pretty high stand for the Belgians to take, but they feel that Van Hee saved Ghent from destruction, and are correspondingly grateful to him.

Getting around Antwerp in the evening is quite an undertaking at this time; no street lamps are lighted, all the window shades lined with black, and heavy black shades are placed over the small electric lights in the courtyards of hotels, etc.--all of this to keep from giving any indication to the Zeppelins as to where to drop their visiting cards. A heavy detachment of soldiers guards the approach to the Saint Antoine, and there are patrols in all the streets. The few motors allowed on the street have no lights, and are stopped by all the patrols, who do not call out but rise up silently in front of you and demand the pa.s.sword.

It is a ticklish business finding one's way. The big searchlights on the forts sweep the skies from nightfall until dawn, making a wonderful sort of fireworks.

When I got back to the hotel I found Prince Caraman Chimay waiting for me with a message from the Queen. Also poor Prince Ernest de Ligne, whose son, Badouin, was killed in one of the armoured motors several days ago.

Young de Ligne, who was a volunteer, was in one of three armoured cars that went out on a reconnaissance toward the German lines. Just before entering a sunken road between two fields they stopped a Flemish peasant and asked him whether there were any Germans anywhere about. The peasant told them that three Uhlans had been seen a short time before but they had gone away. The three motors, de Ligne in the first, started down and were attacked by about forty Germans under command of a major. De Ligne was shot in the head and died shortly afterwards. The man who took his place at the wheel was killed, and several others of the party were also badly wounded and have since died. The third motor came up from some little distance behind and opened on the Germans, killing or wounding nearly all of them, including the officer, who was killed.

A young chap named Strauss, whose mother was an American, had the mitrailleuse in his car, and stood upright, firing upon the Germans without being touched by the heavy rifle fire that they directed against him. When the Germans had been put to flight he and the other survivors got the three cars into running order, and brought them all back to Antwerp, where de Ligne and two of the others died.

Prince Ernest had a hard time getting through from Brussels, and was fired on several times by the German troops, who were even more nervous than in the morning, when I came through. One of his nephews has also been killed, and another nephew, Prince Henri de Ligne, is in the aviation corps, and has been in the thick of it ever since the beginning of the war. He and his wife are also staying at the Saint Antoine.

On Thursday morning I got caught in another avalanche of telegrams and had to spend a couple of hours at the Consulate-General polis.h.i.+ng off and finis.h.i.+ng business. Stopped in at the palace on the way back and saw General Jungbluth, who showed me the latest telegrams. I gathered up what newspapers I could beg or buy and stuffed them into a military pouch to take back. Had an early lunch, gathered up M. de Woeste and Faura, whom I was to bring back, and started about one. We got through Malines, across the only one of the three bridges which is left, and started down the bank of the ca.n.a.l toward Hofstade, where Herwarth was to meet us at two o'clock. There was heavy firing by small guns ahead and a certain amount of protective firing from the forts behind us, with the sh.e.l.ls singing high above our heads, but we thought that it was probably aimed further to the south and that we could get through.

Just at the edge of Malines we were startled by a tremendous report near-by, and on getting out to reconnoitre I discovered a Belgian battery, which had been established near the Convent of the Dames de Coloma. The commanding officer of the battery, Major Nyssens, whom I had known in Brussels, advised us to wait a little to see if there was a lull in the fighting, so that we would get through. We went into the convent to wait and were warmly received by a little Irish nun, who showed us the park and pictures by way of entertainment, although we felt a much greater interest in the banging of the battery. After a bit Major Nyssens sent out a messenger to the farthest battery to see whether they were prepared to stop firing for a little while to let us scuttle through to Hofstade. Presently an answer came back that at 2:10 the firing would be stopped for twelve minutes to let us through. We were in the motor ready to start when another messenger came from the outer battery saying that the Germans were prepared to move up their battery from the bridge at Hofstade--the very spot we were making for, if there were any lull in the firing and that the Belgian battery could not stop without endangering its position.

We then decided to go back to Malines and to try a direct road by way of Sempst and Villevorde. On parting I gave Nyssens all my cigars, knowing I should find plenty when I got back to Brussels, and he, in a burst of grat.i.tude, gave me a tiny revolver taken off a dead German officer a few hours before. Immediately after getting the revolver Nyssens' orderly had handled it rather carelessly, and shot himself in the stomach. To make sure of doing nothing equally foolish, I took out the remaining cartridges and chucked them in the ca.n.a.l as we rode back to Malines.

About a kilometer out of Malines we ran into a considerable detachment of Belgian infantry and lancers and a large armoured motor with two mitrailleuses. We were told that the Belgians had taken and retaken Sempst three times during the day, and while neither side occupied the town at that precise moment they were both advancing on it, and that it might be rather warm for ordinary motors. They finally agreed to let us talk to the commanding officer, who turned out to be none other than Colonel c.u.mont, the owner of the building occupied by the Legation.

He was up on a railway embankment, lying on his stomach between the rails, watching some German patrols through a pair of big field gla.s.ses, and when we hailed him, rolled gracefully over the side, and came down to talk to us. He had been out on the track most of the time for three days and was a rather disreputable-looking person, but apparently glad of a chance to talk with someone from the outside world.

He said he thought we would have time to get through before the row began, and in any event he would warn his men so that if we came scuttling back we would be given the right of way to safety.

We pa.s.sed several Belgian patrols along the way and finally got into the town, which showed clear evidences of fighting; some of the houses were burned to the ground, and all that were standing had their doors and windows smashed, furniture broken, and strewn about the floors with broken bottles and dishes, mattresses and goodness knows what else; and above all arose that terrible smell of burnt flesh.

We were nearly through the town when we were hailed by a detachment of about twenty Belgians, who had got through and occupied the grounds of a villa on the edge of the village. We stopped the car, and I got out and went ahead, they remaining with leveled rifles, in their usual hospitable manner. When I got to within twenty feet of them we heard the whirr of a machine gun--which the Belgian soldiers call a _cinema_--and a German armoured car poked its nose around the corner for a look-see.

It was firing high to draw a return fire and locate any Belgians there might be in the town, but they all scurried behind cover, closely followed by me. They were taking no chances, however, and called me to stay in the middle of the road. Without wasting any time in formality I made clear my ident.i.ty, and, on being shown through a breach in the wall a disagreeable-looking body of German infantry and lancers about a half a mile away approaching through a field, I decided that we were on the wrong road and made back for the motor.

I told my pa.s.sengers what was up, and that we had to go back to Malines.

M. de Woeste, however, was all for going through on the valid plea that he had no clean linen and did not want to spend another night out of Brussels. Nevertheless we turned around and started back, only to rush into the big Belgian armoured car which Colonel c.u.mont, hearing firing, had sent down to rescue us and cover our retreat. This car stayed in the village for a few minutes to meet the German car, fired a few shots at it, and then came back to the outposts.

We then tried getting out toward the west from Malines, but soon came to a point where the road was inundated, and had to turn back for the third time. It was then getting pretty late in the afternoon, and even M. de Woeste had to admit that we had best come back to Antwerp rather than try to make a roundabout journey to Brussels after dark.

All the way back into Antwerp we met Belgian forces advancing to the attack. They are getting to know the flag better every day and we were greeted with waving hands and cheers everywhere we went. When nearly in town, a young chap ran out of the ranks to where we were waiting for them to get by, grabbed me by the shoulder, and said:

"I am born an American."

"Where were you born?"

"Aurora, Illinois. My father worked in ----'s glycerine works."

"Who do you know in Aurora?"

"I know Mr. Evans and Mr. ---- and Mr. ---- and Mr. _Beaupre_."[7]

"What's your name?"

Just then a non-commissioned officer came along and ordered him back into the ranks; the motor started ahead, and I lost track of the boy in a cloud of dust.

[Footnote 7: Former American Minister at The Hague.]

At the edge of town we caught up with a British Legation motor, which was stopped at a railroad barricade. Its occupants roared with laughter when they saw us, and Colonel Fairholme gloated particularly, as he had prophesied that we would not get through. When we got back to the hotel we were met with more laughter. It was the great joke of the week to see the only people who had previously been successful in running the lines, caught like the rest of them. I was not at all down in the mouth, as Antwerp was most interesting, and I had left only because I had felt it my duty to get back to work and to keep the Minister from worrying. When I saw that there was no way of getting through I gladly accepted the decree of fate.

When we got back to Antwerp I soon learned that it would be out of the question to get back to Brussels the next day, or perhaps even the day after that. The Belgians were advancing to an enveloping movement and all the surrounding country was to be covered with Belgian troops in an endeavour to deal a smas.h.i.+ng blow to the Germans and compel them to bring back more troops from the front in France. Colonel Fairholme asked me to accompany him to the front next morning, and I accepted with an alacrity which startled him.

After dinner I made another excursion into the darkness and told Monsieur de Woeste that there was no prospect of getting back to Brussels the next day. His colleagues, who were there also, impressed upon him the futility of going, and he finally resigned himself to staying, although he kept insisting that he infinitely preferred danger to boredom, which was his lot so long, as he had nothing to do but sit around the hotel.

Friday morning while I was waiting for the Colonel to get ready and was doing my little errands down town, there came a great roaring of a crowd, and the chauffeur, knowing my curiosity, put on steam and spurted down to the boulevards just in time to run into a batch of three hundred German prisoners being brought in. They were a dejected-looking crowd, most of them Landsturm, haggard and sullen. The crowd, mindful of the things the Germans have been doing to this little country, were in no friendly mood, but did nothing violent. There was only a small guard of Belgian Garde Civique to escort the prisoners, but there were no brickbats or vegetables. The people limited themselves to hoots and catcalls and hisses--which were pretty thick. And even this was frowned upon by the authorities. Within a couple of hours the Military Governor had posted a proclamation begging the people of Antwerp to maintain a more dignified att.i.tude and to refrain from any hostile demonstration against other prisoners. This batch was surrounded, and caught at Aerschot, where the Germans are said to have committed all sorts of atrocities for the past three weeks. Among the prisoners was the commanding officer, who was accused of being responsible for a lot of the outrages. He was examined by the military court, which sits for the purpose, and admitted having done most of the things of which he was accused, pleading in his own defence that he had done them only in obedience to superior orders, to which he had protested. The soldiers who made the capture disclaimed a large part of the credit for it on the ground that most of the Germans were drunk and that they were too dazed to get to their arms. Stories of this sort keep piling in from every side.

We got away at eleven to Lierre, where the King has established his headquarters for his movement. The road lay to the southeast and was through country I had not traversed before. The aspect was the same, however--long stretches of destroyed houses and felled trees, barbed-wire entanglements and inundated fields. It is a mournful sight.

Little Lierre was unharmed, and I hope it may remain so. The Grande Place was filled with staff motors, and there was a constant coming and going of motors and motorcycles bearing messengers to and from the field of operations. Headquarters was established in the Hotel de Ville, which bears on its tower the date 1369--a fine old building, not large, but beautiful.

In the morning a message had come ordering Colonel DuCane back to England. He was out in the field, and we had to wait until he came in to deliver it to him. The King was also away, but we put in our time talking with the officers on duty as to the movement and its progress, and then went out for a stroll around the town. We looked into the old church, and I stopped and bought an officer's forage cap as a souvenir of the place. By the time we had poked around the neighbourhood and inspected the other _Sehenswurdigkeiten_ of the town it was lunch time and we joined an officers' mess in the back room of a little cafe on the square, and then, to kill time, sat in front of another cafe and had coffee and a cigar.

We could not get started until Colonel DuCane had returned and received his message, so we sat in front of our little cafe and growled. It was maddening to waste our time there while the guns were thundering all around us and we knew from the signs of activity at headquarters that big things were toward. After a time a little man, the Senator for the district, came out and asked us into his house, directly across the street from the Hotel de Ville. It was raining hard and we were ready for a change, so we accepted gladly and were entertained with champagne and cigars to the music of falling rain and booming cannon.

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium Part 15 summary

You're reading A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Hugh Gibson. Already has 530 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

BestLightNovel.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to BestLightNovel.com