A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium. Hugh Gibson
that there has been a battle at Visé and that fifteen hundred Belgians had been killed; later it was stated that they had driven the Germans back with heavy losses. The net result is that at the end of the day we know little more than we did this morning.
Parliament is summoned to meet in special session to-morrow morning to hear what the King has to say about the German ultimatum. It will be an interesting sight. Parliament has long been rent with most bitter factional quarrels, but I hear that all these are to be forgotten and that all parties, Socialists included, are to rally round the throne in a great demonstration of loyalty.
All the regular troops have been withdrawn from this part of the country and dispatched to the front, leaving the protection of the capital to the Garde Civique, who are patrolling the streets, to examine the papers of everybody who moves about. This is a sort of local guard made up of people who have not been called for active military service, but who have volunteered for local defense. They are from every class—lawyers and butchers and bakers and dentists and university professors. They have, of course, had little training for this sort of work, and have had only elementary orders to guide them. These they carry out to the letter. There are detachments of them at all sorts of strategic points in the city where they hold up passing vehicles to see who is inside. I have been stopped by them goodness knows how many times this day. They hold up the car, look inside, apologise, and explain good-naturedly that they are obliged to bother me, asking who I am, and after I have satisfied them with papers that any well-equipped spy would be ashamed of, they let me go on with more apologies. They rejoice in a traditional uniform topped off by a derby hat with kangaroo feathers on it. This is anything but martial in appearance and seems to affect their funny bone as it does mine.
August 5th.—Yesterday morning we got about early and made for the Chamber of Deputies to hear the King's speech. The Minister and I walked over together and met a few straggling colleagues headed in the same direction. Most of them had got there ahead of us, and the galleries were all jammed. The Rue Royale, from the Palace around the park to the Parliament building, was packed with people, held in check by the Garde Civique. There was a buzz as of a thousand bees and every face was ablaze—the look of a people who have been trampled on for hundreds of years and have not learned to submit. The Garde Civique had two bands in front of the Senate, and they tried to play the Brabançonne in unison. Neither of them could play the air in tune, and they were about a bar apart all the time. They played it through and then began to play it over again without a pause between. They blew and pounded steadily for nearly half an hour, and the more they played, the more enthusiastic the crowds became.
When I saw how crowded the galleries were I thought I would not push, so resigned myself to missing the speech and went out onto a balcony with Webber, of the British Legation, to see the arrival of the King and Queen. We had the balcony to ourselves, as everybody else was inside fighting for a place in the galleries to hear the speech.
When the King and Queen finally left the Palace we knew it from a roar of cheering that came surging across the Park. The little procession came along at a smart trot, and although it was hidden from us by the trees we could follow its progress by the steadily advancing roaring of the mob. When they turned from the Rue Royale into the Rue de la Loi, the crowd in front of the Parliament buildings took up the cheering in a way to make the windows rattle.
First came the staff of the King and members of his household. Then the Queen, accompanied by the royal children, in an open daumont. The cheering for the Queen was full-throated and with no sign of doubt, because of her Bavarian birth and upbringing—she is looked on as a Belgian Queen and nothing else.
After the Queen came a carriage or two with members of the royal family and the Court. Finally the King on horseback. He was in the field uniform of a lieutenant-general, with no decorations and none of the ceremonial trappings usual on such occasions as a speech from the Throne. He was followed by a few members of his staff who also looked as though they were meant more for business than for dress parade.
As the King drew rein and dismounted, the cheering burst forth with twice its former volume; and, in a frantic demonstration of loyalty, hats and sticks were thrown into the air. Two bands played on manfully, but we could hear only an occasional discord.
Just as the King started into the building an usher came out, touched me on the arm and said something, beckoning me to come inside. One of the galleries had been locked by mistake but had now been opened, and Webber and I were rewarded for our modesty by being given the whole thing to ourselves. In a few minutes the Bolivian Chargé came in and joined us. Our places were not ten feet from the Throne, and we could not have been better placed.
The Queen came in quietly from one side and took a throne to the left of the tribune, after acknowledging a roaring welcome from the members of the two Houses. When the cheering had subsided, the King walked in alone from the right, bowed gravely to the assembly and walked quickly to the dais above and behind the tribune. With a business-like gesture he tossed his cap on to the ledge before him and threw his white cotton gloves into it—then drew out his speech and read it. At first his voice was not very steady but he soon controlled it and read the speech to the end in a voice that was vibrating with emotion but without any oratory or heroics. He went straight to the vital need for union between all factions and all parties, between the French, Flemish, and Walloon races, between Catholics, Liberals, and Socialists in a determined resistance to the attack upon Belgian independence. The House could contain itself for only a few minutes at a time, and as every point was driven home they burst into frantic cheering. When the King, addressing himself directly to the members of Parliament, said, "Are you determined at any cost to maintain the sacred heritage of our ancestors?" the whole Chamber burst into a roar, and from the Socialists' side came cries of: "At any cost, by death if need be."
It was simple and to the point—a manly speech. And as he delivered it he was a kingly figure, facing for the sake of honour what he knew to be the gravest danger that could ever come to his country and his people. When he had finished he bowed to the Queen, then to the Parliament, and then walked quickly out of the room, while the assembly roared again. The Senators and Deputies swarmed about the King on his way out, cheering and trying to shake him by the hand—and none were more at pains to voice their devotion than the Socialists.
After he had gone the Queen rose, bowed shyly to the assembly, and withdrew with the royal children. She was given a rousing ovation as everybody realised the difficulty of her position and was doubly anxious to show her all their confidence and affection. The whole occasion was moving, but when the little Queen acknowledged the ovation so shyly and so sadly and withdrew, the tears were pretty near the surface—my surface at any rate.
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| Facsimile of the first page of the German ultimatum to Belgium[a] | Pass issued by the Belgian military authorities to enable Mr. Gibson to enter the German Legation at Brussels |
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| Maître Gaston de Leval, legal adviser to the American Legation in Brussels |
For several minutes after the Queen withdrew the cheering continued. Suddenly a tense silence fell upon the room. M. de Broqueville, the Prime Minister, had mounted the tribune and stood waiting for attention. He was clearly under great stress of emotion, and as the House settled itself to hear him he brushed away the tears that had started to his eyes. He began in a very direct way by saying that he would limit himself to reading a few documents and hoped that, after hearing them, the House would consider the Government worthy of the confidence that had been reposed in it and that immediate action would be taken upon