Hardly were the Germans, in boasting mood, able to style themselves conquerors, than they hastened to trample their promises underfoot. Are the engagements of the Berlin Government anything more than so many scraps of paper, which may with impunity be declared null and void? Such men as Erzberger, Losch, Dernburg, Maximilian Harden, etc., all partaking in the public life of their country, found nothing was more urgent than to disregard whatever the Emperor and the Chancellor might have said, no matter how solemn the circumstances, and to make plans for the future in which Belgium would remain wholly or in part annexed. _The Promise to respect the Patriotism of the Belgians._ "I ask no one to renounce his patriotic sentiments," said Baron von der Goltz in the first of the somewhat extraordinary declarations with which he gratified us during his stay in our midst in his quality of Governor-General (placard of 2nd September, 1914). _The Forced Striking of the Flag._ Every one was anxiously asking himself what was really the thought at the back of the Baron's head; for we already knew the Germans sufficiently to realize that so honeyed a phrase concealed some peril. But what? Two weeks later the riddle was solved; it meant that the Belgian national flag was "regarded as a provocation by the German troops" (placard of 16th September, 1914). A provocation of what or whom? Of their national sentiment? Well, and what of ours, which the Governor-General was not asking us to renounce? It is true that after the appearance of this placard the Military Governor announced that he had "by no means the intention of wounding the dignity or the feelings of the inhabitants by this measure; its sole purpose is to preserve the citizens from any annoyance." In short, it was for our good that we were forced to haul down our flag. What was to be done? To resist would be to give the scoundrels who were oppressing us an occasion for exercising their murderous and incendiary talents on Brussels. By a very dignified and very moderate notice, M. Max, the burgomaster, counselled his fellow-citizens to yield. This placard, which was not subjected to the censorship, despite the order given by the Germans, displeased them to the point of having it immediately covered with blank sheets of paper. But these were torn away by the people of Brussels, or else they were rendered transparent by means of petroleum: in a word, every one could read the burgomaster's protest. But as it was expected, with a good show of reason, that the Germans would soon cause it to disappear completely, many persons copied the placard, or even photographed it; and for a long time numbers of the inhabitants of Brussels carried upon their persons, like a precious relic, a copy or a photograph of M. Max's famous placard. _The Belgian Colours forbidden in the Provinces._