Liege on the Line of March Part 10

_November 6th, Friday._

Just the moment I finished breakfast this morning, I dashed into town, that is, as fast as an old tramcar could take me, to the American Consul. In my impatience, I fancy I must have rung his bell several times, though it was really a long while before the servant opened the door and showed me in to the library. Then Mr. Z. (a German-sounding name), the Consul, appeared, unshaven and with the evidence of his morning meal upon his face--it was yellow.

But nothing mattered to me and I plunged into the subject of getting a pa.s.sport for to-morrow without preliminaries. Perhaps I took the poor man's breath away, for certainly he was not nearly as enthusiastic as I about it. In fact, he embarked upon a dissertation pertaining to the invaders which made me cry out in astonishment, "Why, you surprise me, you seem to have pro-enemy tendencies." "Well," he said, "they've done everything they've said they have, haven't they?"

I asked him if he had seen Louvigne or Vise yet and he said, "No, I haven't ben up t' Vise yet."

All this, however, was far from the point in question and I finally got back to it by informing him of the good fortune I was going to have to-morrow in getting away to Holland in the Dutch Consul's automobile if I could get my pa.s.sport from the Germans. It did not occur to me that there would be any difficulty about it, so I calmly asked him if he could get it for me by six o'clock to-night?

"Oh, no," he replied, "I could not get it before two or three days."

"But," I protested, aghast, "I am going to-morrow and it is a chance in a thousand; I may not have another such opportunity during the war.

Could you not make an especial effort to get it for me?"

"Well," he answered, "I'll do what I can but I won't promise anything.

I'm not agoing to ask any favors of those people," i.e., the Germans.

"It is not a favor," I replied, "it is your right. For what other reason is an American Consul if he is not to protect his people, particularly in wartime?"

"Oh, my dear young lady," he answered, "you must not think that you are the only American in Liege."

"How many are there?" indignantly.

"Well, three or four," he replied, reluctantly.

That was really too much! I was in despair. What was to be done? Seeing my hope of freedom vanis.h.i.+ng before my eyes, I clutched at the last straw and entreated him with what eloquence I could whip into line to make at least some effort to get me the pa.s.sport by six o'clock, when I would come again to his house for it.

"Oh, no," he said quickly, "I don't get back here until eight o'clock, but if you happen to pa.s.s by 'The Golden Lion' (or some such name) you might find me there."

Choking with rage I said to him, "I see that you cannot help me, Mr. Z., but if you will be good enough to give me your card (he had already suggested it) to the German pa.s.sport department, I will go to the _Kommandantur_ myself and see what I can do; in fact, I am sure I can accomplish far more than you." He ought to have been affronted at this but, on the contrary, seemed jolly well pleased and handed me out his card in a hurry, glad to relieve himself of the obligation of asking any favors of "those people."

I then made my way to the _Palais de Justice_. A man accosted me in the square and told me if I were going for pa.s.sports it would be of no use, as there were hundreds and hundreds of people there before me. But I kept on. With the glorious end in view, viz., to be a free person and to see the scenes that, in a morbid way, I had begun to feel would never be my privilege again, I kept on, threading a path through the throngs until I stood right in front of the guard of the sacred chamber. He was an enormously fat sentry, with the usual little round cap and fixed bayonet. I thought he would eat me, he looked so offended, and roared out, "_Nein, nein, das Zimmer ist voll._" Then was my moment. I pulled out the little white card and addressed him--not too timidly either, for hadn't I the great American people behind me? He caught the words, "American Consul," which drew him up to salute and in the most lamb-like voice he murmured, "_Ach, ja, Amerikaner_," and let me pa.s.s. I cast one look at the mult.i.tude back of me--poor things, who may have stood there two days already, and I felt despicably mean, as if I were not playing fair.

Once inside, I was put through a category of questions, worse than an "Inkwhich." "Why had I come to Liege?" "How long had I been there?" "Why did I want to go away?" "Where to?" "How?" etc. Finally my inquisitor became suspicious, or feigned it, and said, "But what have I to prove that you are an American?" Then I was furious and I answered, "Monsieur (I suppose he hated the French appellation), since you have the card of the American Consul a.s.serting it, in your hand, is not such a question an indignity to my government?" He answered with a wry smile and said nothing.

At 4 P. M. I returned for my pa.s.sport with half a dozen photographs to be affixed thereto. I had no difficulty in getting into the _Bureau des Pa.s.seports_ as I still had the Consul's card upon which Herr Bauer, one of the German secretaries, had scribbled some mysterious symbols which probably meant "let her pa.s.s," or its equivalent. At any rate, the sentry and I regarded each other superciliously and I skidded past his saw-toothed bayonet without hurt.

When I entered the crowded room I saw that I was about fiftieth in the line and I said to myself that if I waited my turn I should still be there at midnight. Luckily, an idea came to me, and waving that fateful little white card in the air, I called out over the heads of everybody, "Oh, Herr Bauer." A Belgian gentleman standing next me was quick enough to catch the name and shouted out also, "Herr Bauer." But Herr Bauer was far too clever for him and said with a mocking smile, "Ah, no, Monsieur, you will have to wait your turn. Mademoiselle, come this way."

I detached myself from the crowd and stepped behind the rail, horribly conscious of unpleasant scrutiny. My face got hotter and hotter and I could only see a host of uplifted Belgian eyebrows. Even the clerks looked up and stared, unaccustomed as they evidently were to Herr Bauer's benignity. And I had to bear all that humiliation because--well, why?

Having exposed the facts, I will give you the privilege to form your own opinion which will be every bit as good as mine, I know.

11 P. M. My pa.s.sport signed, sealed and written all over by the Imperial Government, is in my hand. I shall dream of long journeys, of bitter struggles and at last--freedom! Will the daylight never come?

_November 7th, Sat.u.r.day._

Sat.u.r.day dawned cold, gray and s.h.i.+very. _Madame de M._, _Monsieur le consul hollandais_, and I left the chateau at eight A. M. I was heartbroken to part from the dear people with whom I had experienced so much and I fancied their eyes looked longingly at the departing automobile. They, too, would have liked to come out into the suns.h.i.+ne of Freedom--how much!

From Liege to the frontier sentries stopped us often, but the consul's much-used pa.s.sport, framed and gla.s.sed in like Napoleon's Abdication or the Declaration of Independence, was very convincing. Half an hour's cold drive along the Meuse brought us to Vise. On approaching it, we did not dream that we were nearing a town and in truth we were not--only the remains of one, for not a single building was standing. I had thought that Louvigne with its one lane was desolate and awful, but here were streets and streets of ashes and crumbled brick--and I seemed to see again the ruins of ancient Troy in Asia Minor, which are not more complete. Someone murmured, "Pompeii." But it is not comparable. The ages have woven about the broken columns of Pompeii a light film of romance and a bit of tender beauty springs up with the tiny, flowering weeds which push their way to the sun between many colored tiles. Here, the tragedy is too new; too crude; too bleeding!

The only living things I saw were a cat scampering down a deserted alley, and one man--half-dazed, looking at what was probably his own ruined home; the only wall to be seen which was, even in part, standing.

It must have been an ironmonger's shop, for some black kettles still hung on nails against the stone, and iron stoves in all their bleakness stood up in bold relief on piles of ashes.

When the Germans came to Vise the commanding officer called the people together in the market place and harangued them at length, threatening them with dreadful punishments if they did not do so and so. He felt he had to, doubtless, as the town and the surrounding country are well known centers of the firearms industry; the peasants work in their own homes to a large extent and are very expert in the making of delicate weapons and also in their use.

So, when the st.u.r.dy Belgians could not digest another single threat, apparently, somebody fired a shot from the crowd which killed the officer while he was speaking. Then followed that frightful slaughter and the firing of the town, the remnants of which we saw to-day. n.o.body on earth will ever know who fired the shot, probably, for the soldiers hate their officers and already German bullets have been found in German soldiers.

9 A. M. Over the frontier! Oh, the joy of it--the indescribable relief--the wet-eyed thankfulness! Shall I ever forget it? I did not know until then what depths Tyranny had furrowed into my consciousness.

Here were men and women laughing and talking in the streets and people daring to drive in their own carriages, and everybody reading newspapers--I felt as if I would spend my last sou for one.

The day was spent in wandering aimlessly over the old town. The wind was bitterly piercing and a fog hung over the ca.n.a.l but I was not altogether aware of bodily discomfort. My mind, trying to adjust itself to new conditions, was in a haze, staggering back and forth from the consciousness of regained freedom to servitude and from barbarism to freedom again.

At three P. M. the train left for Flus.h.i.+ng, where we were to take the boat for Folkestone, England. Just before it pulled out of the station, a friend of Comtesse de M. rushed up to the car window and said, "Madame, must you go? We have just received a dispatch saying that a big boat has been sunk today by a mine near Boulogne." But nothing on earth could have deterred us then.

All through the country of Holland, Dutch soldiers were "preparing"

everywhere. We arrived at Flus.h.i.+ng at two A. M. and went aboard at once, but not before being well looked over by English commissioners, who examined our foreheads and wrists for German measles. Shall I ever get away from that word?

_November 8th, Sunday._

A long day on the Channel and I was seasick--miserably, hopelessly, endlessly seasick, but when somebody shouted I managed to lift my head in time to see a floating mine--just a tiny, black buoy bobbing about, but I did not mind. I asked the stewardess if she were not afraid, making the journey every day, and her answer awed me by its conciseness and its confidence. "Oh, no," she said. "Our Admiralty has arranged a path for us between the mines." That was a sublime faith, but I should choose a more winsome path--bordered with marigolds, perhaps, or phlox.

About four P. M. the gaunt, chalk cliffs of Dover hove into sight, rising up in their grimness and seeming yet to shadow the awful tragedy of the previous day, when an auxiliary cruiser had struck a mine a quarter of a mile from sh.o.r.e and sunk in five minutes.

_November 9th, Monday._

Folkestone! The busiest town on earth, I should say, and soldiers everywhere. There were ruddy-looking troops, singing also, and apparently quite content to be "going over," for an Englishman is always game; and there were pale ones, just out of hospital, in every kind of uniform, and bands of refugees and exiles who had not a franc among them.

Comtesse de M. went with me to the English Emba.s.sy to see if they would give me a pa.s.sport to France with her, for in my haste in leaving Liege, it had not occurred to me that I would need a pa.s.sport ever again anywhere.

It seemed to me that there were millions of people at the door of the Emba.s.sy, but fortunately Madame de M. found an acquaintance who must have had considerable influence, for he took us around to a secret door and we were soon in the audience room. Well, of course, there was nothing to prove that I was an American but our honest word, which was not enough, so I offered to hand out my German pa.s.sport, which was certainly maladroit.