Ghent resounded with praises of its American Vice-Consul, Julius
Van Hee, a hair-trigger politician and a live wire if there ever was one.
Van Hee, with his intimate knowledge of four languages and the
Yankee knack of being on the right spot at the right time, twice saved
blood-shed in the streets of Ghent and in one instance probably
prevented a repetition of the scenes at Louvain.
In Ghent I again found Luther, with a fine young rumor in his pocket
--a rumor which turned out to be correct--that six German spies were
to be executed next morning at sunrise. The place mentioned was
behind the museum in a public park.
"I suppose we'll take it in," said Luther.
"I don't know about that," I answered; adding that, although
executions might be part of the day's work for a war correspondent, I
drew the line at seeing my first murder before breakfast. The tip was
correct enough except that it mentioned the wrong park.
The following noon the Military Governor, according to regulations,
caused to be posted circulars announcing that the men had been put
to death; but at all events I am glad to say that at that early date I did
not have the experience of watching six blindfolded wretches backed
up against a wall, of seeing the officer drop his arm as a signal, and
of hearing the fatal crack of a dozen muskets, as the bodies
collapsed like a telescope, crumpled inward with the chin upon the
chest, and fell forward to the earth.
Chapter II
The Second Bombardment Of Termonde
September 15th was our day with Henry Verhagen, the tall gray
alderman of the town that was once Termonde.
During all the time I was with him Verhagen did not speak a bitter
word. On the contrary, he was calm--particularly calm as he stood
beside the mound where the Belgian soldiers were buried in the
center of the ruined town, pointed to the pile of bricks where he had
lived, and told us how in two nights he had lost 340,000 francs, his
son, his factory, and his home. It was from him, from the
burgomaster's wife, and from a priest that we learned the story of the
city that had ceased to be.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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