The Soul Of Belgium

( Originally Published 1915 )

" WRITING, in a tragic hour, a solemn page of our history, we resolved that it should be sincere and glorious." So wrote Cardinal Mercier more than two years ago, and he added: " And we shall be able to give proof of endurance for so long as shall be needful."

More than two years ago! And the Belgian people, despite its incessant and unspeakable sufferings, remains unconquerably stoical. Without faltering, it continues to " give proof of endurance." And it will be so " for so long as shall be needful." I will convince you of this by asking you to read its soul, the soul of the Belgian people.

I will not speak now of those, whether soldiers or civilians, who—each in his own fashion, but each with all his might—are fighting on the front or outside the occupied territory. You are familiar with their valour and their tenacity. You have assuredly felt that this valour and this tenacity will remain such as they are to-day, such as they were yesterday, " for so long as shall be needful." And you- know, for you have plainly heard its echoes, that fine optimism which these Belgians derive from their determination to conquer, and the illimitable confidence with which those who are helping them have inspired them.

But what you are not sufficiently aware of, and what I wish I could make you understand more fully, is the noble stoicism, of those of my compatriots who are inside the " wall of blood "; the ardent patriotism and the serene confidence of those seven millions of Belgians who are subjected to all the severities of a mediaeval régime, and who, for more than two years, have been enduring the twofold and almost inconceivable moral torture of being at once deprived of encouraging news and overwhelmed by depressing reports.

Try, then, to imagine the environment in which these unhappy prisoners are vegetating; and then, but only then, read the following pages, in which their admirable frame of mind is revealed.

" For seven months," wrote in March, 1915, a certain Belgian, who, thanks to his peculiar circumstances and his perfect knowledge of the German tongue, had since the outbreak of the war been continually travelling through Belgium in every direction-" for seven months I have been travelling through our beautiful land of Belgium, from Gand to Arlon, from Liége to Mons; going on foot or by tram from town to town, from village to village. I have seen and spoken with hundreds of men of all classes and all parts of the country. And all these people, taken singly or united in groups, display a very definite frame of mind. To describe this new psychology we must record the incontestably closer union which has been formed between the different sections of the country; there are no longer any political parties; there are Belgians in Belgium, and that is all; Belgians better acquainted with their country, feeling for it an impulse of passionate tenderness such as a child might feel who saw his mother suffering for the first time and on his account. Walloons and Flemings, Catholics and Liberals or Socialists, all are more and more frankly united in all that concerns the national life and decisions for the future.

" By uniting the whole nation in its army, by shedding the blood of all our Belgians in every corner of the country, by forcing all hearts, all families to follow with anguish the movements of those soldiers who fought from Liege to Namur, from Wavre to Antwerp or the Yser, the war has suddenly imposed wider horizons upon all, has inspired all minds with noble and ardent passions, has compelled the good will of all to combine and act in concert in order to defend the common interests.

" Of these profoundly tried minds, of these wonderful energies, now employed for the first time, of these atrocious sufferings which have brought all hearts into closer contact, a new Belgium is born, a greater, more generous, more ideal Belgium.

I invite those who doubt this to take a walk through Brussels--supposing that they do not find it too inconvenient to do so. Not only will they see the street-urchins imitating the parade-step under the noses of the German officers; but they will find the whole population, admirable in its dignity, implacable in its contempt for the enemy who holds it under the threat of his regiments, as disdainful of advances as they are proud when threatened. They will see in our trams the young girl who pushes into a corner the German soldiers who incommode her, and displays under their eyes the portrait of the King, which, at the risk of getting into trouble, she wears always, faithfully, pinned upon her bosom. They will see men affecting to ignore, or slighting, or at least avoiding the German soldier or civilian.

" Go to Mons or into the Borinage, into the famine country, where, despite the admirable American organisation, people are still dying of starvation, of slow starvation, of an insufficient diet; anger and scorn are visible in the eyes of the young men, as in those of the women, and the Germans openly declare that they greatly fear the idea of retreating through these districts; so at the slightest disturbance they will make terrible examples there.2

" Go to Arlon, go to Namur, all along the great Belgian Calvary, through the martyred Ardennes; the inhabitants have resumed work there, and even when they are suffering they cherish an invincible hope, an unshaken confidence. . . .

" This union of all Belgians is centred upon a name which all pronounce with the sincerest feeling: that of the King. How passionately they love their King, the Belgians 0f these provinces ! With what idealism and affection they worship him ! How grateful they are to him for having revealed their own soul to them, and for making it live so nobly in himself !

" A few other names, too, are set above all others : that of the Queen, that of M. de Broqueville, of Cardinal Mercier, of Burgomaster Max.

" The Belgium of to-day is fair to see, and those who have remained there are indeed the brothers and sisters of the soldiers who are heroically fighting on the Yser. . . ."

Another testimony among so many to the marvellous moral strength of my country; I find it in a letter written from Liege:--

" For the moment, apart from the humiliation of feeling that we are under the enemy's heel, and the fear of an always uncertain to-morrow, what have we to put up with ? Disorganisation of the public services, railways, posts, telephones ; the lack of independent newspapers; the high cost of living. . . Must one be so courageous to bear this? Does it call for so much patriotism? Now the love of country is displayed everywhere; tricoloured cockades in the women's headgear, ribbons in button-holes or on blouses, uniform buttons mounted as brooches or pins that is what one sees everywhere in our streets and in our market-places. In the shop windows the portraits of the King and Queen are displayed, draped with tri-coloured ribbons." 1

And here is an extract from a letter written in Antwerp, which expresses the same ideas:

" It is cruelly melancholy here. No reliable news.

" Things are slow. Requisitions overwhelming. Factories in ruins. General unemployment. Savage resignation on the people's part, and unshakable courage. The workers, in whose ranks I am constantly moving about for purposes of relief, advice, and in order to organise a little work, are admirably quiet in their frightful poverty. They are waiting for the return of the King, and they say: ` We shall drag his carriage from the frontier to the capital!' "

Until that radiant day shall dawn for Belgium and her great King the minds of the oppressed commune in silence.

" No clamour, no outcry, not a word, nothing that could afford a pretext for reprisals, but a splendid surge of patriotism and love for the heroic and beloved King,' whose birthday it was yesterday," wrote a lady from Antwerp on the 9th of April, 1915.2

" All the offices were closed. In the street there was the crowd one used to see on the principal holidays in former days, the crowd of Shrove Tuesday or Easter Sunday or the 21st of July . . but a sober, silent crowd, deeply moved, conscious of the tragic grandeur of the moment.

" In button-holes, on women's bosoms, on sleeves, on hats, in the tresses of little girls, were tricoloured cockades, or flowers of three colours. Even on the beggar's rags a scrap of ribbon gleamed, in honour of the country so sorely bruised, and of him who is defending it, energetically and heroically, scrap by scrap, inch by inch. . .

" Who gave the order? No one. Who asked Antwerp for this striking proof of her loyalty? No one. The impulse rose from the very heart of the people, a people crushed by the weight of hostile oppression, but still admirably faithful to its country and its King.

" The Germans can do us much harm, but they were powerless to prevent this moving festival, impressive in its calm dignity, as they are powerless to change the soul of the people of Antwerp, a proud and independent soul, passionately attached to its country and its dynasty, and determined to remain unshakably faithful to them, spite of all..."

Speaking of " the principal holidays in former days," the author of this letter mentions the 21st of July. It was then that we used every year to commemorate the advent of the national dynasty, which took place on the 21st of July, 1831; it is our national festival.

It would be superfluous to inform you that in 1915 all free Belgians celebrated this patriotic festival with a quite special fervour. But let us see how those who are subject to the German yoke behaved.

As we have seen, von Bissing forbade them, three weeks beforehand, to wear, expose, or exhibit the Belgian colours in public.

A certain von Muller, calling himself " Provisional Governor of Brussels," had further caused the following notice to be posted on the walls of the capital:

I warn the public that on the 21st of July, 1915, demonstrations of all kinds are expressly and strictly prohibited.

Assemblies, processions, and the decoration with flags of public and private buildings also fall under the above prohibition.

Offenders will be liable to a penalty of not more than three months imprisonment and a fine which may attain a maximum of 10,000 marks, or one of these penalties to the exclusion of the other.

And it is probable that notices of the kind were placarded in other cities of Belgium.

Now this is what happened in the four great Belgian cities on the 21st of July of the accursed year 1915:

In Brussels the shops and cafes kept by Belgians remained closed as a sign of mourning; in the principal arteries of the city knots of crape were tied to the balconies. Even in the morning there were many people about in the central streets; and every-one wore, in his buttonhole or on her bosom, some flowers and a button with the initials A—E (Albert—Elizabeth). At 11o'clock precisely, as though an order had been given, a vast crowd proceeded to the Place des Martyrs; sheaves of flowers were hung upon the corners of the monument erected there in memory of the combatants of 183o; a simple demonstration, and wholly silent, but impressively majestic. . While this was happening German soldiers suddenly came up, in close-packed ranks, with loaded rifles, and drawing after them valiant fellows !—a machine-gun, which was quickly placed in position, they clumsily and brutally dispersed this absolutely in-offensive crowd, which had not made the slightest disturbance. . .

During this time a solemn service was celebrated in the Collegiate Church of Saint Gudule, the immense building being entirely filled.

Those present were quiet and meditative, but everyone had a sense as of something imminent. And sure enough, immediately after the Ite missa est, the organ struck up the Brabanconne, in muffled tones at first, and quite pianissimo; then, after a masterly crescendo, it burst into a thrilling hymn of glory. Then, irresistibly and with all their might, the enraptured crowd sang in chorus the last stanza of the national hymn-which might have been written for the occasion:

O Belgique, ô Mère chérie, A toi nos coeurs, à toi nos bras, A toi notre sang, ô Patrie! Nous le jurons tous, tu vivras! Tu vivras toujours grande et belle, Et ton invincible unité Aura pour devise immortelle Le Roi, la Loi, la Liberté!

"It was a scene of delirium," writes a witness of this thrilling incident; " the thunder of the organ mingled with thousands upon thousands of voices shouting, `Vive le Roi! Vive le Belgique!'

.The women waved their handkerchiefs, and the men their hats on the ends of their sticks. People were singing, shouting, weeping. . And when it was all over, and the church was slowly emptied and they were in the Place outside, they were still sobbing, bewildered, bruised, broken down by this violent emotion."

All day and all night the German patrols traversed the city; but there was not the slightest trace of disorder to be suppressed.

" The crowd was quiet and serious," stated the " General Superintendent," W. Kestrauck; " nevertheless it was drawing the violent breath of suppressed hatred, which was burning within. Men walked through the streets with their fists clenched in their pockets."

In Antwerp, as in Brussels, cafes and shops were closed. Early in the morning a great sheaf of flowers, bound with a ribbon of the national colours, was laid at the feet of the statue of Leopold I. A few of the principal streets were occupied by the military, and all traffic was forbidden. Everywhere else was a holiday crowd; but not a shout, not a cheer, lest the Germans should have a pretext for violence. . . .

On the following day, on account of the tricoloured ribbon which accompanied the flowers placed beneath the statue of King Leopold, the city was condemned to pay a fine of £10,000!

In Liége the statue of Charles Rogier, one of the founders of the kingdom, was abundantly decorated with flowers of the communal colours, red and yellow, which formed, with the black base of the monument, the national colours. These flowers were at once removed by the German authorities.

As for Gand, here is the edifying proclamation which one might have read there a few days later:

The manner in which the population conducted itself on the 21st of July, and the exaggerated fashion in which it wore the Belgian colours, force me to issue the following order:

I forbid, from this day onward, the wearing, exhibition, sale and purchase of the Belgian colours, portraits of the royal family, green leaves with or without inscription, or any other display of colours combined to indicate political tendencies.

I forbid all Belgians to wear emblems or decorations of any kind whatsoever.

For every contravention of these prohibitions a maximum fine of 5,000 marks will be inflicted, or a maximum imprisonment of five years, or both penalties at once.

This order will be affixed to the walls and will come into force immediately. Lieutenant-General Graf von WESTARP. Gand, 25th July, 1915.

Something finer still, something more profoundly affecting than the public demonstrations of which I have just given you a glimpse, is the proud determination of the Belgian workers to consent to do no work for the Germans, their unshakable resolution not to assist the enemy in any way or at any cost. Here truly we are touching on the sublime !

Not only have these worthy men, who are tortured by hunger, always proudly refused offers of the most tempting wages (rail-way engine-drivers have been offered as much as £2 a day), but they have often endured the harshest treatment rather than con-sent to work, even quite indirectly, for the enemies of their country.

A few examples will interest you:

At Luttre where there is an important State railway works thirty workmen were called up by the German authorities at the end of April, 1915; they were promised wages running up to £1 a day. All emphatically refused to resume work, which had been abandoned since the occupation. They were then imprisoned in cattle-trucks and informed that they would be re-leased only when they would consent to work. . . . After several days they were threatened with deportation to Germany,

where they would be jolly well forced to work, and without wages too! " Nothing could be done with them. . . . Then the threat was put into execution; and at the moment when the train which carried these heroes away began to move, they, and all their fellow-citizens, who had hastened in a body to the station, shouted with all their might, " Vive la Belgique ! " . . . The train, for what reason (or caprice) we know not, did not go further than Namur, and there the recalcitrant workers were liberated.

But a few days later a fresh attempt was made to recruit workers. An officer harangued the men, who had been forcibly conducted there were a hundred on this occasion to the refectory of the works : " You have nothing to fear in future," he told them; "the Kommandantur will give you a certificate stating that you have resumed work only because constrained and compelled. Let those who accept our conditions step two paces to the front! " All took a step to the rear, shouting: " Vive la Belgique ! Vivent nos soldats ! "

After this incident M. Kesseler, manager of the " Atelier central de Luttre," was arrested in Brussels. Having been con-fined for two days in a cell, he was taken to the works, whither the men had also been escorted. Invited t0 exhort his hands to resume work, M. Kesseler confined himself to repeating to his men the communication which had been made to him, adding that he left every man free to act according to his conscience. Not one gave way !

Epilogue : M. Kesseler was sent to prison at Charleroi and one hundred and ninety workmen were deported to Germany. A few weeks later sixty more were arrested and deported whither, no one knows.

At Malines similar scenes were enacted. The workers in the State railway works, and the whole population also, were subjected for eight or ten days to a perfect reign of terror. . . . The men remained inflexible in their decision not to serve Germany.

At Sweveghem in Flanders where there is a large wire-drawing mill, the Germans demanded that barbed wire should be manufactured for them. The 350 workers at once left the factory. The burgomaster, the communal secretary, and even a senator who was there were arrested. This was on the 8th of

June. Commanded to resume work, the men remained insensible to any sort of menace. The village was then surrounded by a cordon of troops, and all movement out of doors was prohibited. On the 11th the men were dragged to their benches by force; they persisted in refusing to manufacture the barbed wire which was to be used for the defences of the German trenches. Sixty-one were sent to prison at Courtrai; and shortly afterwards their wives too were thrown into prison. But still no barbed wire is made at Sweveghem !

It was the same at the " Etablissements metallurgiques de Seraing," where, from the general manager the eminent Grenier, dead today, perhaps of a broken heart down to the humblest labourer, all displayed the most admirable civic courage and a magnificent spirit of self-sacrifice : it was the same at the " Fabrique national d'armes," at Herstal; and the powder-works at Wetteren; it was the same everywhere, in the Walloon country as well as in Flanders. In all Belgium there is not, so far, one manufacturer or one artisan or labourer who has listened to the promises or given way before the threats of the Germans.

Is not this fine? And is it not also a fine and heroic feeling which impels so many young Belgians to risk the obscure, stupid death which keeps watch for them at the frontier, in order that they may go to swell the ranks of our legions may give their lives for their country?

Before dropping the curtain before the " inner life " of the Belgian nation, I will put before you an extract from a letter written in the fortress of Glatz by Adolphe Max, the great civilian who so magnificently set an example for his fellow-citizens to follow. This letter, written to a friend, is dated the 24th of May, 1915:

" I read your letter with emotion. What a time of mourning! And with how many sacrifices have we had to pay for the defence of our right and our honour! The death of Paul Renkin,1 of the exquisite and charming Mme. Depage, and of Courouble's son,2 and that of Pierre Pirenne,3 which I learn from another source, and of one of Levie's 4 sons, and of the eldest son of Dr. Thirias 5 . . . it is too much all at once. Must so many sorrows indeed be mingled with our hopes? Do not think me demoralised. The more painful the ordeal, the more I realise that one's duty is to harden oneself against grief and to keep one's eyes fixed always on the future."

To harden ourselves against grief, and to keep our eyes fixed always on the future : that is what we are all doing.

There is not at the present moment a single Belgian family which has not been horribly tried by this war, for which we were not prepared. All are mourning in silence and in the very depths of their hearts the death of those dear to them; all have suffered loss of property or the loss of a livelihood. Ask any Belgian, whether he be a minister or a modest clerk, a manufacturer or an artisan, a wholesale merchant or a small shopkeeper, a great stockbreeder or a poor tenant-farmer: ask the widow, or the orphan, or the parents who have lost one or several sons, ask any Belgian, no matter whom, be he Catholic, Liberal, or Socialist, if he does not feel to-day that it would have been better to have accepted the bargain which Germany pro-posed to us on the 2nd of August, 1914. There is not one who will not reply, without hesitation: "No, we could not have done otherwise than we did, and if it had to be done again we should do the same."

We have a clear conscience, all of us, and this is why, beyond the present, which we face boldly, we discern a future full of fair promise.

We know that we shall triumph, and that our beautiful country, already morally greater than it ever was before, will recover in its appointed time its old material prosperity. We shall triumph because, with the Allies at our side, we are fighting for Justice and Liberty. We shall triumph because our unfailing moral strength increases our material strength a hundred-fold, and because " we shall succeed, so long as it is needful, in giving proof of endurance."

Belgium is not dead; she will not die ; she will live toujours grande et belle, because in her soul those virtues are flowering which make nations great and beautiful: a sense of honour, the spirit of independence, courage, and patriotism!

Belgium will not die because she has been able to prove that she is a nation—" a nation which is defending itself," and which, according to the prediction of its great King, has compelled the respect of all.