A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium. Hugh Gibson
sort of thing to promote restful sleep.
This morning I got down to the chancery at a quarter past eight, and found that Omer, our good messenger, had been summoned to the colours. He had gone, of course, and had left a note for me to announce the fact. He had been ill, and could perfectly well have been exempted. The other day, when we had discussed the matter, I had told him that there would be no difficulty in getting him off. He showed no enthusiasm, however, and merely remarked, without heroics, that it was up to him.
Colonel Falls, 7th Regiment, of the National Guard of New York, came in, having been sent back from the frontier. He had the pleasure of standing all the way as the trains were packed.
Millard Shaler, the American mining engineer, who had just come back from the Congo, came in with his amusing Belgian friend who had been telling us for weeks about the wonderful new car in which he was investing. This time he came around to let me have a look at it, he having been advised that the car was requisitioned and due to be taken over to-day.
We have done a land-office business in passports, and shall probably continue to turn them out by the dozen.
Sunday, August 2d.—Another hectic day with promise of more to come.
This morning I came down a little earlier than usual and found the Minister already hard at it. He had been routed out of bed and had not had time to bathe or shave. There was nothing to show that it was a Sunday—nearly twice as many callers as yesterday, and they were more exacting.
Mrs. A—— B—— C—— came in airily and announced that she had started from Paris yesterday on a motor tour through France and Belgium. Having got this far, some rude person had told her that her motor might be seized by the Government for military purposes and that an order had been promulgated forbidding any one to take cars out of the country. She came around confidently to have us assure her that this was a wicked lie—and needless to say was deeply disappointed in us when we failed to back her up. We had refrained from asking the Government to release our own servants from their military obligations and have refused to interfere for anybody else, but that was not enough for her. She left, a highly indignant lady.
The story is around town this afternoon that the Germans have already crossed the frontier without the formality of a declaration of war—but that remains to be seen. Brussels was put under martial law last night, and is now patrolled by grenadiers and lancers.
The money situation is bad. All small change has disappeared in the general panic, and none of it has dared show its head during the past few days. The next thing done by panicky people was to pass round word that the Government bank notes were no good and would not be honoured. Lots of shops are refusing to accept bank notes, and few places can make any change. The police are lined up outside the banks keeping people in line. People in general are frantic with fear, and are trampling each other in the rush to get money out of the banks before the crash that probably will not come. Travelers who came here with pockets bulging with express checks and bank notes are unable to get a cent of real money, and nobody shows any enthusiasm over American paper. I have a few bank notes left, and this evening when I went into a restaurant I have patronised ever since my arrival the head waiter refused to change a note for me, and I finally had to leave it and take credit against future meals to be eaten there. We may have our troubles when our small store is gone, but probably the situation will improve and I refuse to worry. And some of our compatriots don't understand why the Legation does not have a cellar full of hard money to finance them through their stay in Europe.
Communications, with such parts of the world as we still speak to, are getting very difficult on account of mobilisation, the military having right of way. This morning's Paris papers have not come in this evening, and there are no promises as to when we shall see them. The news in the local papers is scarce and doubtful, and I hope for a word from Paris.
Word has just come in that the Government has seized the supplies of bread, rice, and beans, and will fix prices for the present. That is a sensible and steadying thing, and should have a good effect.
Nobody seems to remember that a few days ago Serbia was playing a star rôle in this affair. She seems to have faded away behind the scenes. A few days ago, Mexico loomed large in the papers and now we have forgotten that she ever existed. Albania supplied a lot of table talk, and now we think about as much about her and her troubles as we do about Thibet.
This afternoon I went around to the Rue Ducale to take a look at the French Legation. The tricolor was flying in the fresh breeze, and there was a big crowd outside cheering itself hoarse. It was made up of men who were called to the colors and were waiting to enroll themselves and get instructions as to where they should report for duty. The air was electric, and every now and then the military band struck up the Marseillaise and the crowd instantly became happily delirious. Some of them had been standing in the sun for hours waiting to get in and get their orders, but they were just as keenly responsive to the music and the mood of the crowd as anybody. All the crowd in the Legation had been working day and night for days, and was dead with fatigue; but, some way, they kept going, and managed to be civil and friendly when I had business with them. How they do it I don't know. A Frenchman's politeness must be more deeply ingrained than even I had supposed.
On the way back from the Legation this evening, I saw von Below, the German Minister, driving home from the Foreign Office to his Legation. He passed close to me, and I saw that the perspiration was standing out on his forehead. He held his hat in his hand and puffed at a cigarette like a mechanical toy, blowing out jerky clouds of smoke. He looked neither to left nor right, and failed to give me his usual ceremonious bow. He is evidently not at ease about the situation, although he continues to figure in the newspapers as stating that all is well, that Germany has no intention of setting foot on Belgian soil, and that all Belgium has to do is to keep calm. In an interview given to Le Soir he sums up his reassuring remarks by saying: "Your neighbour's house may burn but yours will be safe."
August 3, 1914.—No mail in to-day. All communications seem to be stopped for the time being at least. Mobilisation here and in France requires all the efforts of all hands, and little workaday things like mail and newspapers go by the board.
According to the news which was given me when I got out of bed this morning, the German Minister last night presented to the Belgian Government an ultimatum demanding the right to send German troops across Belgium to attack France. He was evidently returning from this pleasant duty when I saw him last night, for the ultimatum seems to have been presented at seven o'clock. The King presided over a Cabinet Council which sat all night; and when the twelve hours given by the ultimatum had expired, at seven this morning, a flat refusal was sent to the German Legation. Arrangements were got under way, as the Council sat, to defend the frontiers of the country against aggression. During the night the garrison left and the Garde Civique came on duty to police the town.
The influx of callers was greater to-day than at any time so far, and we were fairly swamped. Miss Larner came in and worked like a Trojan, taking passport applications and reassuring the women who wanted to be told that the Germans would not kill them even when they got to Brussels. She is a godsend to us.
Monsieur de Leval, the Belgian lawyer who for ten years has been the legal counselor of the Legation, came in and brought some good clerks with him. He also hung up his hat and went to work, making all sorts of calls at the Foreign Office, seeing callers, and going about to the different Legations. Granville Fortescue came in from Ostend, and I should have put him to work but that he had plans of his own and has decided to blossom forth as a war correspondent. He is all for getting to the "front" if any.
Just to see what would happen, I went to the telephone after lunch and asked to be put through to the Embassy at London. To my surprise, I got the connection in a few minutes and had a talk with Bell, the Second Secretary. The Cabinet had been sitting since eleven this morning, but had announced no decision. I telephoned him again this evening and got the same reply. Bell said that they had several hundred people in the chancery and were preparing for a heavy blow.
As nearly as we can make out the Germans have sent patrols into Belgian territory, but there have been no actual operations so far. All day long we have been getting