Wordsworth.
The stupid arrogance of the German military caste has always made them ridiculous in the eyes of decent human creatures; it was surprising, amusing, and yet saddening, too, to see an intelligent people strutting and playing such war-paint-and-feathers tricks before high heaven, but it appears that the primitive impulses that survive in their character are stronger and go deeper than we had suspected. There are brave and chivalrous spirits among Germany’s officers and men; that goes without saying; but the savage and senseless barbarities that have marked her conduct of the present war will make her name a byword for infamy as long as it is remembered. There seems no doubt—the charges are too many and too widely spread—that her troops have murdered the wounded, have shot down women and children, have even used them as shields, driving them in front of their firing line; they have ruthlessly murdered unarmed civilians, and have blasted farmsteads and villages into ashes on the flimsiest provocation; sometimes, so far as one can learn, without waiting for any provocation whatever. Even if their hands were clean of that innocent blood, the wanton, insensate destruction of such a city as Louvain is sufficient of itself to put them outside the pale of civilised societies. No doubt they were smarting with humiliation that they had been so long delayed breaking through the stubborn opposition of the Belgians at Liège; but Louvain was an unfortified city and they were allowed to take peaceable possession of it. Nevertheless, on August 25th whilst the fighting round Mons was at its hottest and Russia was sweeping farther and farther over the frontiers of East Prussia, in some sort of burst of vengeful frenzy they laid one of the loveliest old cities of the world in ruins, burnt or shattered most of its priceless art treasures, and left its citizens homeless. Of course they have been busy ever since trying to cover up their shame with excuses, but such a wanton crime is too great and too glaringly obvious to be hidden or excused.
Four impressively realistic descriptions of what happened when the Germans thus went mad in Louvain have been published in the Daily Telegraph:
1. From a Daily Telegraph Folkestone Correspondent, Saturday, August 29th:
Among the refugees arriving here to-day were women and children from Louvain and soldiers from Liège, all narrating thrilling adventures. Some of the refugees had obviously hurriedly deserted their homes, wrapping a few of their belongings in sheets of newspaper.
One woman from Louvain tore down the curtains from her windows, wrapped them round some wearing apparel, and ran from her house with her two children. In the street she became involved in a stampede of men, women, and children tearing away from the burning town, whither she knew not. This woman’s story was so disjointed, so interspersed with hysterical sobs and exclamations, that it is impossible to make a full and coherent narrative of it. Periodically she clasped her children, gazed round upon the English faces, and thanked God and bemoaned her fate alternately.
Although suffering from extreme nervous excitement, another woman had intervals of comparative calmness during which she described her experiences as follows:
“Ah! m’sieu,” she exclaimed, “I will tell you, yes, of the burning of Louvain. We had pulled down some of the buildings so that the Germans should not mount guns on them when they came. I believe that was the reason. We were in a state of terror because we had heard of the cruelties of the Germans.”
Every time the poor woman referred to the Germans she paused to utter maledictions upon them.
“Well,” she proceeded, “they came, and all we had heard about them was not so bad as we experienced. In the streets people were cruelly butchered, and then on all sides flames began to rise. We were prepared for what we had regarded as the worst, but never had we anticipated that they would burn us in our homes.