A Journal From Our Legation in BelgiumGibson, Hugh
History
A Journal From Our Legation in Belgium
Gibson, Hugh
Belgium -- History -- German occupation, 1914-1918
In the course of the afternoon we arranged definitely that at three
o'clock this morning there should be ample train accommodations ready at
the Gare du Nord to get our Germans out of the country. Nasmith and I
are to go down and observe the entire proceedings, so that we can give
an authoritative report afterward.
There is a German-American girl married to a German who lives across the
street from me. I sent her word to-day that she and her husband and
little boy had better get away while there was a way open. Last evening
while we were at dinner at the Legation the three of them arrived in a
panic. They had heard that there was a mob of ten thousand people about
the German Consulate about to break in and kill every German in the
place. Of course they could not be persuaded to go near the Consulate or
any of the other refuges. They wanted to settle down and stay at the
Legation. As the Minister was on his way out to the meeting of the
corps, the woman waylaid him, had got down on her knees and kissed his
hand and groveled and had hysterics. He called for me and we got them
quieted down. I finally agreed to go down to the Consulate and take a
look so as to reassure them.
When I got there I found that the streets had been barred off by the
military for two blocks in every direction, and that there was only a
small crowd gathered to see what might happen. About as hostile as a lot
of children. I got through the line of troops and in front of the
Consulate found several hundreds of the refugees who had been brought
out to be marched to the Cirque Royale, where they could be more
comfortably lodged until it was time to start for the train. They were
surrounded by placid Gardes Civiques and were all frightened to death.
They had had nothing to do for days but talk over the terrible fate that
awaited them if the bloodthirsty population of Brussels ever got at
them; the stories had grown so that the crowd had hypnotised itself and
was ready to credit any yarn. The authorities showed the greatest
consideration they could under their orders. They got the crowd started
and soon had them stowed away inside the Cirque Royale, an indoor circus
near the Consulate. Once they got inside, a lot of them gave way to
their feelings and began to weep and wail in a way that bade fair to set
off the entire crowd. One of the officers came out to where I was and
begged me to come in and try my hand at quieting them. I climbed up on a
trunk and delivered an eloquent address to the effect that nobody had
any designs on them; that the whole interest of the Belgian Government
lay in getting them safely across the frontier; called their attention
to the way the Garde Civique was working to make them comfortable, and
to reassure them, promised that I would go with them to the station, put
them on their trains, and see them safely off for the frontier. That
particular crowd cheered up somewhat, but I could not get near enough to
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