Through the Iron Bars | Page 3

should in vain ransack the chronicles of history to find, even in
ancient times, crimes similar to this one. For the Jews were at war with
Babylon, the Gauls were at war with Rome. Belgium did not wage war
against Germany. She merely refused to betray her honour.
* * * * *
Let us watch, then, the closing of the prison gates. Up to the beginning
of October, the Belgians, and specially the people of Brussels, had been
kept in a state of suspense by the three sorties of the Belgian army,
which left the shelter of the Antwerp forts to advance towards Vilvorde
and Louvain, a few miles from the capital. At the beginning of
September, the sound of guns came so close that the people rejoiced
openly, thinking that deliverance was at their gates. To sober their
spirit--or to exasperate their patience?--the Governor General ordered

that a few Belgian prisoners, some of them wounded, with their
quickfiring gun drawn by a dog, should be marched through the
crowded streets. The men were covered with dust, their heads wrapped
in blood-stained bandages, and they kept their eyes on the ground as if
ashamed. Some women sobbed on seeing them, others cursed their
guards, others plundered a flower shop and showered flowers upon
them. At last two stalwart workmen shouldered away the escort, and,
helped by the crowd, which paralysed the movements of the Germans,
succeeded in kidnapping the prisoners, and getting them away to the
neighbouring streets. They could never be discovered, and it was the
last display of the kind which the Governor gave to Brussels.
During the siege, people had learnt to recognize the voice of every fort
of Antwerp. They said to each other: "That is Lizele, Wavre Ste.
Catherine, Waelhem." One after the other the Belgian guns were
silenced, first Wavre, then Waelhem ... and the vibrating boom of the
German heavies was heard louder than ever. The listening Bruxellois
grew paler, straining every nerve to catch the voice of Antwerp. It was
as if their own life as a nation was slowly dying away, as if they were
mourning their own agony. But still the valiant spirit of the first days
prevailed. "They will be beaten for all that. What was Antwerp
compared with the Marne? All forts must fall under 'their' artillery.
After all, the nest is empty; the King and the army are safe."
Since those days a kind of reckless indifference has seized the Belgians.
If we must lose everything to gain everything, let us lose it. The sooner
the better. It is the spirit of a poor man burning his furniture in order to
shelter his children from cold, or of a Saint suffering every physical
privation in order to gain the Kingdom of Heaven. It is an uncanny
spirit composed of wild energy and bitter-sweet irony. "First Liège,
then Brussels, then Namur, now Antwerp. The King has gone, the
Government has gone. If all Belgium has to go, let it go. It is the price
we have to pay. The victory of our soul shall be all the greater if our
body is shattered and tortured."
Henceforth, the voice of Belgium reaches us only from time to time. Its
sound is muffled by the enemy's strangle-hold, which grows tighter and

tighter. Before the fall of Antwerp, the German administration of
General von der Goltz had merely a temporary character. We knew that
most of the high officials were stopping in Brussels on their way to
Paris. On the other hand, any skilful move of the Allies, any successful
sortie from Antwerp, might have jeopardized all the conqueror's plans
and necessitated an immediate retreat. The Yser-Ypres struggle barred
the way to Brussels as well as to Calais. The Germans knew now that
they were safe, at least for a good many months, and began
systematically to "organize the country." All communications with the
uninterrupted part of Belgium were interrupted. It became more and
more difficult and dangerous to cross the Dutch frontier without a
special permit. The economic and moral pressure increased steadily,
and the conflict between conquerors and patriots began, a conflict
unrelieved by dramatic interest or excitement from outside, which
carried the country back to the worst days of Austrian and Spanish
domination.

II.
THE LOWERED FLAG.
The contrast which I have endeavoured to indicate, in the first chapter,
between the attitude of the German administration before the fall of
Antwerp and its behaviour afterwards is nowhere so well marked as in
the measures taken for the purpose of repressing all Belgian
manifestations of patriotism.
During the two first months of occupation, the Germans made at least a
show of respecting the loyal feelings of the population. In his first
proclamation, dated September 2nd, in which he announced