A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium Part 22

_Hotel des Regates, 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 Amba.s.sador 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 pa.s.sengers were British officers on their way to the front. Among the others I found de Ba.s.sompierre 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, Hotel 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 Fecamp, 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 Hotel 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 sh.e.l.ls had come from n.o.body 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; n.o.body 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 sh.e.l.ls, 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 Barbacon, 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 Hotel 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 sh.e.l.ls kept falling to the left, near a group of farm-houses, and as some of the spent b.a.l.l.s 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 sh.e.l.l 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, b.u.mping 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 b.a.l.l.s, 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 sh.e.l.ls. 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 sh.e.l.l fire, until we absolutely had to start back for lunch. On the way we stopped at a peasant's hut, and said h.e.l.lo 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 _cha.s.seurs a 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 sh.e.l.ling 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 cla.s.s 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 sh.o.r.e 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 inst.i.tution 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 Na.s.sau," 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-pa.s.sengers 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 Emba.s.sy, safe and sound.

I got off some telegrams about my trip, and was told the Amba.s.sador wanted to see me. Hoover was with him, and I turned over to them the appeals from the King and Queen.