100 Years Ago
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/our-belgian-guests-lk27dnqjn
Our Belgian guests
December 12, 1914
It was our plain duty to send our armies to Belgium; and, since they have not yet availed to free her soil from the Germans who infest it, it is no less our plain duty to support her refugees upon our own soil.
Complaints have been made, and have even found their way into the Press, that Belgian refugees do not try to adapt themselves to English ways; and these complaints have caused some soreness, we believe, among the Belgians. We can assure them that they are not made by the great mass of Englishmen, but to those few who may be inclined to make them we would say this.
The Belgians are our guests, and more than our guests. While they are in England they are not living upon our charity, and it is not for us to feel virtuous or to expect gratitude from them because of what we do for them. They are grateful, no doubt, and express their gratitude often in very moving terms. But in what we do for each individual Belgian we are merely trying to repay the whole Belgian nation for what it has done and suffered on behalf of ourselves and Europe.
That is not charity or kindness; it is merely honesty. It is the repayment of a debt as much as if the Belgians had lent us money and we were giving it back to them. So it is our business, not to be proud that they have found a refuge in England, as if England were a kind of Lady Bountiful succouring the poor and needy out of her riches, but only glad that we are not as Belgium herself, and that she, our ally, can obtain from us some part at least of the help which it is our duty to give to her.
It was our plain duty to send our armies to Belgium; and, since they have not yet availed to free her soil from the Germans who infest it, it is no less our plain duty to support her refugees upon our own soil. If we clearly understand this we shall do that duty more thoroughly and gracefully than if we take pride in our kindness. No one likes to think of himself as dependent upon the charity of another, and the Belgians will be happiest here if we make it quite plain to them that they are not, in our opinion, dependent upon our charity, but are merely receiving the loast recompense we can give them for their own high services to us and to civilization.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/german-vengeance-in-dinant-0mqpfzsk8
German vengeance in Dinant
April 24, 1915
Fifty yards from us we saw immense braziers full of corpses. We were placed in a line, and the soldiers faced us with rifles ready. Heartbreaking scenes took place: parents and children embraced for the last time.
This account of the sack of Dinant was written by a Belgian lady who was living there when the Germans entered the town. Their entry was heralded by rain a of shells, which set fire to the buildings, and was accompanied by appalling scenes of pillage and outrage.
The lady took refuge with about 70 others - men, women, children, and babies in arms - in some caves on a hill overlooking Dinant. There they spent three dreadful nights. Forced out at last by hunger and despair, they fell into the hands of the Germans, who used them as a screen for their machine-guns, and at last lined them up in front of a file of soldiers to be shot.
At the last moment the refugees were spared and sent to Ciney, a Belgian town 15 miles south-east of Namur, where they were set free. The narrator managed to escape and reached England, where she eventually died in hospital.
August 21. For the past five days things have been pretty quiet, but at night a terrible cannonade began and we dared not go out. There was a fierce fight until 12.30am, then it stopped. We went to bed without undressing, and about 5 in the morning we heard unusual sounds in the street and hurried out to hear that the German soldiers had assaulted the Rue St Jaques; most of them were drunk, and they had shot the peaceable inhabitants, set about pillaging shamefully, then set fire to the houses with bombs, and destroyed everything.
That night the bombardment began again. We made up our minds to take refuge in the cellar. The bombardment went on at intervals all night and about 4 in the morning it became more dreadful than can be imagined. We prayed and commended our souls to God. We heard explosions all round us, they were bombs, and looking out we saw the whole street on fire.
We came upstairs as we saw we must try to escape while there was still a chance. When we got into the street we hardly knew what to do. We reached the end of the street leading to the quay and there we stopped, terrified. The sight was a moving one - women, children, wretchedly clothed, nuns holding up their hands to heaven, were standing all along the river side watching the town blazing - hundreds of people worn out with terror and fatigue, old men lying on mattresses, babies in cradles whose parents had gone - none knew where. Everyone was crying and sobbing - men, women, and children. They had all been driven out of their homes by the brutal soldiers, who smashed the doors and windows with the butts of their rifles, seized the unarmed men, and ill-treated the women and children, then ranged them in two rows and shot the men before the eyes of their wives and children. We saw among these unfortunates a woman who was soon to have a baby, with bare feet and clad only in her chemise and petticoat.
One idea possessed us - to escape from the town we loved so much. What could we do? There was no means of crossing the river. Suddenly someone remembered the grottos on thc hill. No more hesitation - we started on our way back through the burning streets. At last we got through - about 15 or 16 of us altogether - through the wood lighted up by the burning town - and arrived at the grotto of Montfat. The door was shut but an energetic blow opened it, and we entered this living tomb. We went through I don’t know how many dark passages. After wandering about in this way for a quarter of an hour we reached a hall where we found between 70 to 80 people, all in tears. We were dying with fatigue, our limbs were benumbed, bruised but we had to make up our minds to lie down on the damp earth, and so the night passed.
With the day all our terrors returned. Shouts rose from the town below; cannon thundered above us. In the afternoon I made a little reconnaissance at the entrance to the grotto, and looked down on the smoking ruins of what had been Dinant. An intense heat rose up from it. At last we prepared again for the night - but, what a night! Mon Dieu! Ten times I was on the point of leaving the grotto imagining I heard noises, but they were hallucinations produced by hunger and thirst. I thought day would never come; at last about 6 o’clock I risked going out. As I returned into the grotto a lady came up to me and begged me to bring a light, as she thought everyone had lost their wits. I found to my horror that many of them really had lost their reason. It is hard to stand such mental suffering. I went up to Mons. P. and asked him to reconnoitre outside, and see if the army was away. He soon returned saying that it would be more prudent to spend another night there, and try to escape in the morning.
It is impossible to conceive how terrible this third night was, and how we suffered. I thought it would never end. About 5 o’clock I looked out, and heard the sound of cannonading, the shouts of those brutes and miserable cries and wails of distress mingled with crashes as half-destroyed buildings fell in ruins. It was a pitiful sight.
However, whatever happened we must leave the grotto. Out of the 75 persons who had taken refuge there, only 17 had the courage to follow us. We prepared 12 white flags to be carried by the oldest and the children. We climbed the hill and arrived at the plateau at the top to find ourselves at the German camp. The moment we were seen officers and men came towards us, but we advanced towards them without hesitation, and Mons. M. spoke for us all, saying, We come from burning Dinant. We are ruined. We beg your protection. The soldiers searched us and our packages. Then, without saying what they intended to do with us they sent us with an armed escort into another camp. For 20 minutes we walked through fields, and came out on an immense plain where a battle was going on, and there we were placed near the mitrailleuses, in front of the army, and an officer said to us “Nothing of Dinant must be left. The French cannon will finish you.”
We remained in this position for about 20 minutes, momentarily expecting to die - an unforgettable torture. Whole families - mother, father, children - bade each other farewell, clinging to each other that they might die together.
But our hour had not come. The French cannon ceased firing. Then we were set off without further sign, and we wandered off through the devastated country. We ran, for we felt we were still in the field of battle, for about half an hour, when we came into a crowd of these savages, who pointed their revolvers at us. We were seized. Again we were examined. Then we were placed in a row, the mitrailleuses behind us. What were our fears! Again we marched for 20 minutes. Then a halt. Fifty yards from us we saw immense braziers full of corpses. We were placed in a line, and the soldiers faced us with rifles ready. Heartbreaking scenes took place: parents and children embraced for the last time - but they were so broken down that all resistance was useless, and they stood resigned to their fate. But I still wished to live, though some men called out to me, “Come, you prolong our agony, let it be ended!” I had noticed that the soldier in command of the platoon spoke French very well, and I turned to him and begged for our lives. I saw that he was not insensible, for he seemed to have tears in his eyes. When I had finished the officer said to me: “I have my orders. Nothing was to be left of Dinant. They fired on our soldiers.” “That is not true,” I replied. “Of that I am certain.”
The officer, however, was not unfeeling, and gave orders to the soldiers not to fire, while he sent a message to the camp. Presently another officer came on horseback and told us our lives were spared, but we were to be prisoners of war for six months. We could scarcely believe our lives were saved. We were again lined up and made to march, guarded by armed soldiers, through the burning village from which all the inhabitants had fled. It was nearly night when we reached the village of Achaine, and we were met by soldiers with revolvers in one hand and electric lamps in the other. We were again searched, and then the priest was sent for and asked to let us sleep in the church. We were not badly treated, and the priest’s servant was allowed to bring us water to wash with. Outside, the cannon thundered, the church shook.
What a night it was, however, the guard was kind to us, so much so that I wondered how they could commit such dreadful deeds. At break of day we were ordered to make ready to leave: the priest was allowed to give each a cup of hot coffee, which was a great comfort, and a soldier brought us a large jug of milk for the old people and the children. We were ready to start, not knowing our destination. We were drawn up in line and counted, then an officer said. kindly “Here is a large carriage for the old people.” Then I overheard one officer say to the other: “These are decent people take them to Ciney and set them free.” We set off, travelling through devastated country and constantly passing armies. We arrived at Ciney- the whole population came out to look at us, and they all wept when they saw us, for we were a lamentable sight. Members ot the Red Cross Society came to our aid, and hospitality was provided for the refugees.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/slavery-in-belgium-mjzrxrfrd
Slavery in Belgium
November 8, 1916
Workmen found in the streets were rounded up by the troops and sent under escort to a place where a trench was being dug. They refused to assist in this military work directed against their own country. They were shut up and left for days without food of any kind, until they were literally starved into submission.
We had fancied that the enormities perpetrated by the Germans on unhappy Belgium had reached the limit which even Prussian “militarism” would dare to inflict upon an unoffending nation. We were mistaken. Murder, arson, rape, and wholesale pillage - all the abominations recorded in Lord Bryce’s Report and in the voluminous publications of the Belgian Government - have been followed by one more crime. An article which appears elsewhere proves that the German military authorities are reintroducing slavery in Belgian Flanders. There can be no doubt about the general character of the facts. We care not by what euphemism German diplomacy and its servile hacks in the Press may seek to disguise them. They have reached us from sources which establish them beyond dispute, and their true name is branded upon them. They are quite simple. On October 3 a decree of the German Headquarters was published in the two Belgian provinces which include Bruges, Ghent, Courtrai, Alost, and Tournai. It empowered the military authorities to force all able-bodied persons who were dependent upon others for their living to undertake work away from their homes. As the Germans have long since seized all the raw materials in these districts, and have thereby thrown whole classes out of work, the number dependent for their food upon the municipalities is very large. They were summoned to present themselves at a given time and place, and their presence was checked by the relief lists violently taken from the municipal authorities. Workmen found in the streets were rounded up by the troops. Next day they were sent under escort to a place where a trench was being dug. They refused to assist in this military work directed against their own country. They were shut up and left for days without food of any kind, until they wero literally starved into submission. A second group were forced to do military labour near an aerodrome; a third were commanded to sign an undertaking that they would work in Germany. They were packed into trains for that country or for the north of France. The full number of the victims so far driven off is not accurately known, but it is estimated as at least 15,000, and it is doubtless being Increased. We need not waste words in denouncing the utter lawlessness of this action. Probably there is no explicit prohibition of the reduction into slavery of European populations in the text-books of international law or in the conventions made between civilized peoples. The deed was so inconceivable, so utterly opposed to the whole spirit of all Christian nations, that mankind would have deemed such a provision idle and superfluous. But the Germans have committed it, and presumably they mean to repeat it. We ask neutrals what they think of it; above all we ask the great neutral Republic who staked her all upon the vindication of human freedom for a race that was not her own, and that had been born and bred in servitude for generations, what she thinks of these slave raids made upon white men. The male population in the other provinces of Belgium will probably share the fate of their brethren in Flanders, unless the hand of the oppressor is stayed by the reprobation of the world. General von Bissing, it is true, has repeatedly declared that Belgians would not be called upon to perform any service forbidden by The Hague Conventions, and; these Conventions explicitly forbid the compulsion of the inhabitants of occupied territory to take part in military operations against their own country. But the German Vice-Chancellor, Herr von Helfferich has lately informed the Reichstag that the populations of such territory in German hands will be subject to compulsory labour. The example of Flanders shows what the nature of the labour is likely to be. The Germans are feeling acutely the wane of their native manpower. The slave raids are manifestly a device to supply the places of Germans now employed in munition works and other indispensable businesses at home, and thus to release them for service in the field. They confirm the view which we have expressed, and which is generally accepted by the Allies, as to the true meaning of Prussia-Germany’s anxiety to establish out of Russian territory a simulacrum of the Kingdom of Poland which Prussia betrayed and destroyed. A resolve to fill the depleted German ranks by any means is the explanation of both projects. But sham Constitutions and slave raids are not the only instruments of German Kultur in the territories she has seized. She seeks to poison the souls of their peoples as well, under the guise of promoting the higher education. She has already endowed Warsaw with a university, and she has just blessed Ghent with a similar institution. The news which we print this morning under the heading “Through German Eyes” throws instructive light upon the character of the foundation and the aims of the founders. General von Bissing blurted out their real purpose when he declared that it was meant to be a “Low German” institution. It is professedly to be a home of “Flemish patriotism,” but that is because the Germans are striving to split the brave little people whose “union makes their strength” into two hostile camps. Herr von Bethmann Hollweg ingenuously explained the whole precious scheme in the Reichstag months ago. Lovers of liberty and of learning in all lands will rejoice that it has conspicuously failed. The true leaders of the Flemish movement have resisted it with such patriotic determination that two of the most eminent scholars amongst them have been relegated to Jena - where perhaps they may reflect upon Hegel’s servility towards Napoleon. The teachers have been for the most part imported, because no self-respecting Flemings would stoop to take German pay, and, with provident minds, they have insisted on a promise of pensions when the restored Government of King Albert turns them out. Efforts, apparently unsuccessful, are being mado to recruit students amongst the Belgian prisoners in Germany, as the Flemings at home visit this pretended boon from their oppressors with a resolute “boycott”.
Professor Nyrot, of Copenhagen, has put his finger upon the fundamental German error which has condemned their anti-national university to barrenness from its birth. They have forgotten that, whatever domestic differences Flemings and Walloons have had, and may again have, amongst themselves, this war has welded them together as Belgians above all. It is a characteristic German blunder, the blunder which has vitiated and turned against them all their cunning schemes for sowing division in the ranks of the Allies. They cannot understand the character of their enemies. Their sham generosity turns against them even more than their open brutality. The university for the Flemings will no more shake their loyalty than the slave raids themselves.